Page 15 of Her Biker Daddy

“That’s what I wanted too,” I sigh, resting my head on his chest until the sound of a chain reminds me of what else he’d taken from mine.

“My baby girl was being naughty without daddy, wasn’t she?” he teases as I pull back, seeing the clover nipple clamps I bought on a whim. “Do you like the way they feel on your nipples baby girl or were they a bit too hard?”

“They felt really good at the start but if I tugged on them too much, then it started to move from being a good hurt to a not so good hurt,” I admit, letting him toss the items into my bag before I go to get the rest of the things from the dresser I want to bring with me. The bottom two drawers don’t have clothes in them.

One just has some old school supplies I’d gotten from the free closet at school. My mom hadn’t cared about seeing I had notebooks and pencils, so I’d take one or two things from it every month and stash them here. I probably should give them back to the school now since I don’t need them anymore.

The second drawer is just a couple blankets I’d use during the winter when it got really cold. If I didn’t keep them hidden I know one of the boyfriends along the way would have ended up puking or peeing or bleeding on them, and then I wouldn’t have wanted to touch them again, let alone curl up in them when it was cold.

“We can play with them when we’re home. See if you like it more when it’s with daddy in charge, or if they’re just a little too much for you even with me. There are other kinds that have more of a clip type opening than the clamp type these are, which may feel better, even with a bit rougher play with them,” Tate suggests, and my entire body warms at the tone of his voice. It feels just as sweet as when he was telling me that he wants to be my daddy in everything we do, ensuring I knew what it meant, the safety that was in it with him.

I don’t think I realized just how desperately I needed that until then. Yes, I’ve been calling him daddy to myself, but that was thanks to a book I read at the library one afternoon. It was raining and I didn’t want to come home, drive in the rain because the wipers on the car suck. I slipped down to the library and browsed some books, found one that had a tame cover, but the description of it was far from it. I devoured the book in hours, sitting in a back corner so no one would bother me, and the whole way home, I just kept imaging Tate in the man’s role, taking care of my body in ways I needed in bed, and that night, when I touched myself with his imagine in my head, I orgasmed for the first time by calling him daddy. Silently of course. No way was I going to chance mom’s ex-boyfriend hearing me pleasing myself. He’d have done god only knows what to me if he knew I was interested in sex.

Being free to make noise with daddy though—that’s something I really liked. Along with the way he was taking care of me in ways outside of sex as well. Yes, there was always the money thing, but that’s wholly different from the way he just held me this morning.

“I’d like that. I think I’ll like anything with daddy,” I admit, bringing a grunt from his lips to my ears and he gives me another hot kiss, before putting me away from him.

“Pack, I want you out of here before they get back. Can’t guarantee they’ll be breathing if we’re not and they say one fucking thing out of line to you,” he grumbles, and I finish quickly with the dresser while he gets the rest of the items from the closet into those big bags.

I do a final check while he takes them out to the car, finding a couple little tidbits I missed. The room looks much the same as when we came into it. Other than the dresser drawers being open and empty and the closet doors still open at least.

“Ready?” Tate asks, letting me drop the little things into my purse as his eyes flow around the space.

“Yeah, the blankets in that drawer are old and not worth brining. There’re some unused school supplies in the other one we can drop off somewhere. I think there are some plastic bags in the kitchen under the sink.”

“I’ll grab them,” he says, and I open the drawer, taking out five notebooks, a couple folders, and some new pens and pencils as well. He holds open the bag he comes back with, then takes it so I don’t have to carry anything remotely heavy, making me smile more at the simple gesture. He puts the bag in the back with the rest of my stuff, then opens the passenger door and boosts me up into the seat, pulling a giggle from me that has his eyes darkening with desire. “It’s a big step up, don’t want my little girl to slip and hurt herself.”

“I like that daddy wants to take care of me, keep me safe even with the little things. It makes me happy.”

“Good, now, let’s get you buckled in, and we’ll run by the store on our way home,” he suggests, buckling my seat belt for me while dropping a kiss onto my forehead that makes me sigh with pleasure. That book daddy’s got nothing on mine.

He holds my hand as we head back towards town, taking the turnoff just after the Wilkens’ drive that leads right into it, and I shudder just a bit at the memory of what happened before Tate showed up rescuing me. “It’s okay, baby girl. They can’t ever hurt you again. Daddy will always come for you.”

“I know you will,” I muse, turning my gaze onto him rather than out the window as we get closer to town. I’d call it a small town, although some may argue that it’s not really that small. There’s about forty-thousand people that live around the area, but in the city limits, it’s likely more like thirty-thousand. Not that they don’t pretty much know everything that’s going on with everyone else. Which is why I call it a small town.

People are way too nosy, in everyone’s business, and there are very few secrets. My paternity being one of the only ones that’s been held close to the chest of just a select group. It’s also why most people know the Reapers run guns. Know that Hinton and some others disappeared and suspect foul play. But just like the cops are corrupt and no one really talks about it, the same thing goes for the Reapers. People know, or as least assume to know, but they don’t talk for fear of their safety.

Although I definitely feel safer with the Reapers, especially with Tate, than with any of the cops around this place. Even if some of them didn’t terrify the shit out of me by looks alone. Like Slice last night with the way he just looked at us from across the room, but this morning when he brought the food out, he didn’t seem nearly as scary. Although I’m curious about how he got the name Slice. He had some cuts on his hands that marred his smooth espresso hued skin, leaving darker marks on them, and I wonder where they came from and if they relate to his name—especially since Tate’s mentioned knives more than once.

The car slows and my brows lift curiously when we pull into the lot for our local shopping center rather than the grocery store. The old mall on the north side of town is now abandoned. The owners of it got greedy and started raising rent, so the little stores moved out and into the spots in the strip mall here. The last store in the mall closed two years ago and the place is just sitting there rotting now, while the stores down here in the shopping center seem to be thriving.

The trailer park where I lived is to the south of town, the Reapers’ clubhouse is to the east, and to the west is the major employer in the area, Jackson Distributing. If it closed, the town would likely die, which is why my ‘father’ is so desperate to keep it in his hands. If the town dies, he loses all of his power, and he’ll never let that happen.

“What are were doing here?” I ask after Tate’s parked and come around to get my door.

“I saw what you packed and what I packed. How much of it really fits your sexy little body right?” he questions, making me flush a bit because the truth is very little. “Exactly, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting my brothers see you walking around the place in those tiny little shorts that do fit. They’ll start wanting a taste of what’s mine and then I’d have to kill all of them, and then where will I be?”

“Alone in that big old place with just me—and a lot of dead, rotting bodies,” I tease lifting up to kiss him after pulling his head down my way. I love how tall he is, it makes me feel like a little girl—his little girl that he really can keep safe.

“I’d toss them out into the woods, but that might draw too many animals to come and get scraps. Which would then have us stuck in the middle of an island of wild beasts,” he returns, his arm around my waist, moving us up onto the sidewalk and towards one of the stores that does carry clothes in my size.

He steers me away from the darker color items that I usually get, and I grin when he pulls a pink dress off a rack and holds it up my way. “You like pink, but you never wear it out. Just those socks and shorts you wear around your room.”

“Everyone always said I look awful in pink. That I shouldn’t wear it because of my hair. My mom agreed with them and never would buy me the cute pink tops I wanted and if I tried to pick out something colorful, she’d snap about my weight and that I needed to wear black or blue, nothing else.”

“Which is why you only bought things she wouldn’t see you in that’s pink. What about what you’re wearing right now?” he asks, seeing a top similar to the one I’m wearing right now. It’s soft colors swirl with mixtures of baby blue and green and teal, and I nod when he holds up one my way in question.

“I bought it with daddy’s money, kept it in my bag and only wore it when I knew my mom wouldn’t see me in it,” I confess, not arguing in the least when he grabs more and more things from the racks for me. Not a single one of them is a dark shade, even if some of them are green and blue. He pulls me towards the back where the store has bralette style items with matching lace panties, and I shake my head when he takes a bralette down showing it to me. “It won’t fit. They’re too small in the cup.”

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