Page 3 of Prez's Property

“Elijah, please,” I whimpered. “Too much.”

He lowered his lips to mine, taking my mouth in a hot, possessive kiss that sent my mind reeling. Chills danced through my body as he brought me to yet another orgasm, this time coming with me.

4

He slowly pulled out of me, his cum spilling out onto the bed. I was too tired and worn out to care. My temples were pounding, and I felt weak – completely spent and drained.

“Stay,” he ordered as he rose off the bed. I watched through slitted eyes as he walked to the bathroom. He came back a minute later with a warm cloth, and he used it to clean me up.

That was more than could be said for the other men I’d fucked. They had left me to clean myself up. It wasn’t their job, and once they nutted, they were ordering me out. I knew they didn’t mean it to be harsh; they just didn’t want us forming attachments where we had no business to.

I yawned, my muscles feeling weak. I’d never had so many orgasms in one night in my life, and we’d barely been fucking for an entire hour. I didn’t know how I hadn’t died from overstimulation, to be honest.

“Need some rest?” Elijah asked me as he pulled on his jeans.

I rubbed my eyes, getting ready to shake my head, but he had already tugged the comforter from beneath me and draped it over me. “Get some sleep. I’ll get one of the girls to cover your place at the bar. I’m pretty sure I fucked you into exhaustion,” he said, his lips tilting up at the corners.

I didn’t say anything in response, my eyes already sliding closed. This wasn’t normal behavior for the men in this club, but I sure as fuck wasn’t about to complain.

I was almost completely asleep when his phone suddenly rang on the nightstand. With a low growl, he answered it.

“What?!” he barked into the phone, jerking me completely out of my sleep. I snapped my eyes open, looking up at him in alarm.

His eyes flickered to me, rage and something else flickering in their depths. It was gone before I could pinpoint what the other emotion was. “Whatever, Whitney. Don’t fucking start shit, you hear me?”

The sound of his wife’s name washed over me like ice-cold water. I was already sliding out of bed when he hung up. I made quick work of grabbing my clothes. “You’ve got to go,” he told me. I thought I saw regret flash in his eyes, but it was gone before I could be one hundred percent sure. “Don’t fucking breathe a word of what happened here to anyone, you hear me?” He stepped closer to me. I swallowed thickly. “If you do, it’s your fucking ass, we clear?”

I gritted my teeth. “Crystal,” I muttered.

Not even embarrassed about my nudity, I strode out of his room, barely refraining from slamming the door shut behind me. Doing that would definitely get me a fucking lashing that I didn’t want.

I stormed further up the hall to my room and that time, I did slam the door behind me.

“What a fucking dick,” I seethed.

5

I looked up from the table I was cleaning when Whitney barged into the clubhouse, the door slamming roughly against the wall, announcing her presence. I heard one of the other club girls mutter a profanity as she disappeared into the kitchen.

I didn’t blame her. Whitney was a bitch, but I had tables to clean.

The club didn’t pay me to sit on my ass.

“Elijah!” she yelled, making me cringe. God, her voice was loud and screechy.

I watched as the chapel doors swung open. Elijah stormed out. I winced for her. One, you didn’t barge into the clubhouse if you weren’t a patched member. You walked in with respect, and you kept your fucking head down, even if you were married to one of the members. Two, you sure as fuck didn’t shout for one of the members like you’d lost your goddamn mind.

The only time you did was if it was a fucking emergency.

“Someone better be dead,” Elijah growled at her as he stormed in her direction.

She threw a bag at his feet. His clothes from yesterday spilled out of it. “Why do your clothes smell like some bitch’s cheap perfume?!”

Excuse me? My perfume was not cheap.

He gripped her arm so tightly I saw tears spring to her eyes. He yanked her close to him, making her trip over the clothes at his feet. I cast my eyes to the table, not wanting to be caught staring and receive the same kind of lashing. Staring at an altercation between Elijah and Whitney was almost just as bad as being in her position.

“My patience with you has disappeared,” he snarled down at her. “Your mom raised you to be a fucking good old lady, and that’s what the fuck you need to be, you hear me? You keep your fucking nose where it goddamn belongs. You wash my clothes without fucking complaint. And you sure as fuck don’t barge into my goddamn clubhouse like you run shit around here, you hear me?”

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