Page 56 of Biker's Collar: Property of Scrap

“Why did you follow him to Vegas?”

Vickie looks up at me with wide, sad eyes.

“I can’t…”

“Tell me…”

It’s so hard not to shove my dick in her mouth right now. But I want to know the truth. I want to know it so fucking badly. Vickie glances at my cock like she’s weighing the options. I don’t know what she’s going to do, and waiting for an answer from her hurts.

My dick is too hard for me to think straight. I need answers. I need to cum. I need this woman to just… let me in.

Twenty-Five

Vickie

Ican either spread my lips and take Owen’s dick in my mouth, or tell him the truth about my past. The truth of how I ended up in Vegas. It’s humiliating — and not a humiliation that I want to face again. It feels like my throat is clogged with wet toilet paper.

He asked a simple question. I should be able to answer. Instead, I spit on Owen’s big white dick like that will make him or his question go away. He makes a low, lust-filled groan, but spitting on his dick doesn’t give me as much control over him as I hoped.

Owen’s dark brows get all scrunched up and his jawline makes him look like a stern Greek statue.

“I want to know the truth.”

Veins bulge out of his dick and his thick, muscular forearms. He doesn’t care how hard I’m making his dick this time. He’s too fiercely determined to get answers from me. The thought of any type of vulnerability scares me. I would rather spit on his dick. Take it deep down my throat. Do anything to hide from raw emotions. Not like it’s easy to hide from emotions when I’m naked with Owen.

He makes it impossible because he’s a fucking demon.

“Tell me,” he demands before I can protest again. “I’ll make it much worse if you don’t start talking.”

“I hate you.”

“Good,” he says. And he acts like he really means it. Freaky ass man. “Get wherever you need to tell me the truth.”

“I was a naive idiot. My cousin’s boyfriend’s brother started writing me letters and… I thought he was in love with me. I believed he was in love with me.”

“When did that start?”

“When I was around a sophomore in high school.”

“So when you were a kid.”

“You don’t need to be eighteen to know that’s wrong.”

Owen steps back. His dick doesn’t seem as hard as it was before. He looks angry. I told him that he didn’t want to know. Now he looks like all the rage rushed out of his dick to his brain. Ironically, I would rather not deal with Owen’s evil fucked up brain right now.

“I told you that you didn’t want to know,” I snap at him. I wish I had something I could crush up and feed him. Something that would knock him out long enough for me to disappear somewhere far away. Like Nova Scotia. Bet his ass wouldn’t find me in Nova Scotia — collar or no collar.

“You have no understanding of how fucked up that situation is,” he says. “What did those letters say?”

Owen keeps pushing and pushing me. Naked. Unbothered by his nakedness. Meanwhile, my vulnerability feels like it’s killing me. And it’s not enough for him. He wants more. Isn’t it bad enough that I was stupid enough to believe that my cousin’s boyfriend’s brother was in love with me? He knows I ran away with Hakeem. He knows how that bullshit hurt me and twisted me up inside. I don’t need to talk about it. Owen clearly disagrees.

“Don’t you know enough?”

“I need to know everything about you,” he says with that infuriatingly hot voice he has. I swear, his voice could push me over the edge on its own. I wish he was saying something that I wanted to hear.

My voice emerges weakly, “You’re so stupid.”

Insulting him is all I have left. Vulnerability feels too threatening and I revert specifically to some animalistic version of myself that just screams at me to protect my heart. Do anything to protect my heart.

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