Beauty & The Biker (7 page)

Chapter 9

Isabella

I am on my hands and knees in the entryway scrubbing the stone flooring with nothing more than a rag and a bucket of soapy water. Even though it is summer in the world outside, in here it is cold, dark, and depressing. I’ve not seen Tristian for three days or anyone else for that matter. Not since he flipped out on me. We were having an amazing day. I thought I was getting somewhere with that darkness he carries around inside, but as usual, his ugly side reared its head. He is mentally exhausting.

I have spent plenty of time on my own, but at least I could still see what was going on in the outside world. Tristian doesn’t even have cable TV. He just has movies.

I have searched all over for a phone. If there is one, I am certain it is in his bedroom, where I am not permitted. I’ve tried his door, there is no getting in unless he wants me to. I want to call and check on my father. I need to know he is okay. I have never been away from home...away from my crazy sisters.  I would walk to town if I could get far enough for it to matter. I’m truly alone. But I have to make the best of a bad situation.

That doesn’t cease my worrying though.

What if Papi isn’t eating, what if he has suffered another heart attack? I pour more water from my bucket onto the floor and wipe as my tears fall. I know why I agreed to this but why didn’t I try to make a bargain? I really am a naive idiot.

I’m mentally and physically exhausted by the time I finish cleaning the floor. My knees are bruised and bloodied from the hard uneven floor.  My fingers ache and my knuckles are swollen.

My dress is soiled with who knows what. My hair even hurts but I did as I was told. I scrubbed the damn floors clean; it took me all three days. I started upstairs and worked my way down until I reached the front door. I’m hungry but too tired to eat. I don’t have the energy to make it up the stairs to my bed. I end up in the library on one of the many sofas.

**

I am dreaming of Tristian. We are back on his motorcycle, carefree and he is being sweet. The dream takes a heated turn when he leans back, with his head resting on my shoulder. He smiles lazily and I capture his mouth in a kiss. At first it isn’t passionate but it is a kiss that says we are familiar and comfortable. But then his tongue sweeps against mine and it feels erotic. I want more and move my tongue against his as he turns into me, but we are no longer on his bike, we are somewhere in the mansion. Candlelight glows against the stone walls as he plants more kisses down my neck.

“Tristian,” I call his name.

The feeling of swinging awakens me. My head is bobbing up and down as my arms and legs sway. Tristian is carrying me up the stairs, weightlessly.

“What are you doing?” I murmur.

He drops me on my bed roughly. “Never fall asleep downstairs. I told you my brothers will take first and ask later.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper an apology, my throat dry and thirsty.

He slams the door and as I am dozing off again he comes back, with a bowl of warm water and first aid to tend to my knees. This tender side of him seems to be rare but welcomed. I decide to stay quiet in fear of upsetting him, but I really want my phone. I could care less about the panties at this point.

Winning Tristian over won’t be easy. I don’t know why he hates me. In time, Tristian will see he doesn’t have to be the monster his tattoos portray him to be.  I know somewhere buried inside him has to be a decent guy instead of the beast he pretends to be. If there wasn’t he wouldn’t have taken the time to bandage my knees and give me a mild painkiller.

I stare dreamily at the tattoos traveling down his neck, wondering what they look like under his clothes. Do they continue in the same fashion, showing the muscles and organs of his body?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He asks his voice almost seeming friendly and unguarded.

“I was just wondering...” my cheeks flush with heat; I’ve never asked to see a man naked before. I can’t believe I am being so candid and that he is still sitting here waiting for me to continue. “Are you tattooed all over, everywhere? Can I see?”

His eyes grow darker and unreadable. He is closed off again. “No. Go to sleep.”  He gets up quickly taking the dirty water and kit with him. I hear the turning of a key; he has locked me in my room. Better than the dungeon.

The pain meds kick in and I drift off.

All night I keep dreaming of Tristian, seeing him in all his glory, reaching out and touching him, tracing his tattoos with my fingers.

There is a sadness behind his eyes. He hides under the ink covering his skin, but I see him. I see the man underneath it all and I want him like I have never wanted anything before.

I toss and turn as I imagine the things he could do to me. He awakens such desire inside me. I feel as though I am burning from the inside out. The softness of his lips and the roughness of his hands consume my dreams.

I picture him lying next to me in the nude as I trace my fingers and my tongue along his tattoos. He runs his hands down my sides and pulls me flush against him as we lay exploring one another’s bodies and sharing our most heated desires.

The closing of my bedroom door jars me from my sleep. I can hear Tristian yelling at someone in the hall, but I am too trapped in my dream to find out who he is talking to.

When I fully wake up I am sweating and warm all over, feeling feverish and having the urge to be near him.

He is my captor and I am his pet. I shouldn’t want to hold his attention, but something draws me to him.

Rolling over I have an ache between my legs. I trail my fingers down my body pretending it is Tristian whose touch is setting me ablaze.  Warmth washes over me and I don’t know what to do with myself. It’s like having an itch you can’t scratch. I make my way out of bed and get dressed for the day ahead, hoping like hell, Tristian makes up his damn mind and decides what it is he really wants from me.

Chapter 10

Tristian

Not allowing her to have underwear might be the worst decision I’ve ever made. I’ve watched her the past three days over my security camera, bending over, catching little glimpses of her cunt. I want her, all of her, but I need to bide my time. I enter her room when I know she’s fast asleep, and watch her. I’m itching to just strip naked and lay next to her body. I want to feel her naked body slapping against mine as she rides me.

I watch as she twists and turns in her sleep. She’s restless and mumbling but I can’t make out what she is saying. I imagine how it might feel to hold her naked body against mine. To bury my face between her thighs and devour her pussy, being the
FIRST
,
LAST
, and
ONLY
man to ever taste her essence. I want my lips coated with her taste. I want to sink inside her walls balls deep, and own every piece of her. I want her to tell me all the things she has never done and then I want to do them to her. I want her crying out my name as we become one mind, one body, one soul.

I want her more than I ever have. My restraint is wavering as I continue to watch her. I reach my hand out and stroke her cheek. My thumb brushes across her parted lips and she moans having no idea how hard I am for her. How I wish I could crawl into her bed and awaken her with my tongue as I lick and suck on her breasts, fingering her tight, little virgin cunt.

I’m interrupted from my dirty thoughts of the woman lying in the bed when Rain opens the bedroom door and glares at me.

I leave the room quickly, and grab Rain’s arm pulling her down the hall. “What the fuck are you doing peeking in that room?” I growl in her face.

“I was looking for you,” she smarts off.

I lean in, and she pales. “You never,
EVER
, go in that room. That’s Isabella’s room.
DON’T
look at her,
DON’T
touch her,
DON’T
speak to her.”

Rain jerks from my grip. “That’s Ariala’s sister isn’t it? What are you up to Tristian? What is it with this girl? What do you want with her? Do you have a thing for her?”

“Speaking of,” I grit in her face. “I warned you!” I grab her arm again dragging her downstairs. “You like that little pink pussy you been licking behind my back, I suggest you keep your mouth shut. You don’t tell Ariala shit about Isa and me, or so help me Rain I will end you and your bitch will never dance again.”

She sneers at me. “You don’t know shit Tristian. You got your head so far up your own ass.”

I grab her jaws and squeeze. “This conversation is finished. The boys will be here soon. Party tonight. Looks like you’ll be entertaining them since you want to keep using that mouth, tonight you can put it to use.”

Normally I’d have a few dancers come over to take care of my men after they have been on a long run, but Rain has pissed me off one too many times this past week. Time to put her in her place. She is getting too comfortable shooting off at the mouth.

“Whatever Tristian. You want to be a dick to me and use me like a whore on dollar night then so be it. I hope watching me with your boys makes your dick achingly hard and I hope that little cock tease denies you, because I sure as hell won’t get you off.”

“Don’t ever concern yourself with my dick, you ungrateful little bitch. How easily you forget who pulled you up from the gutter and got you away from the drugs.”

“You think I could ever forget and not like you’ll let me. You plan to hold it over my head forever. I swear one day Tris I won’t be here for you and you’ll be sorry.”

Pulling out my switchblade, I hold it to her throat. “You forget the fact that I don’t fucking need you. The only thing I need is sleeping in that room.”

“Too bad you’ll never have it. You think a girl like that will ever want you Tristian. You could have had me, but I wasn’t good enough for you and thank God for small favors.” She swats my blade away nicking her finger in the process.

“Why are you here Rain?”

“Just thought you’d like to know Ariala quit so what I do with her is no longer your business.” She jerks away and turns to leave. “I feel sorry for you Tristian. You are your own worst enemy.” She stomps going toward the game room.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I feel a tension headache coming on and I have blue balls from watching Isa sleep. Fucking Rain, I don’t know why I put up with her bullshit.

I head back upstairs and peek back in Isa’s room to find her getting dressed. My balls ache once more as she steps out of her pajama bottoms flashing me her pert ass. Next comes her tank top. She still hasn’t noticed me as she gives me a glimpse of her side boob as she pulls open the wardrobe and takes a new white dress from the hanger.

She yelps, startled, when she finally senses me watching her.

“Having a get together need you to get busy in the kitchen fixing finger food and shit,” I tell her ready to dart into my room, needing to get away from her. I just want to shake her and demand that she remembers all that she has forgotten, and then I want to push her up against the wall, and fuck her senseless until she forgets again, and repeat it all over again.

Instead, I smile grimly as she nods while chewing her bottom lip. I walk away while imagining how her teeth would feel grazing over my dick before she takes me in her mouth.

In the confines of my room, I am in heaven and hell. Laying on the bed with my knees spread apart, my pants around my ankles I grip my cock, hard, picturing Isa kneeling before me. She licks her lips and I stroke myself. Her lashes flutter as she leans forward. I pump harder. She smiles sweetly being shy as her nipples brush against my legs. Stroke. Pump. Harder. Faster. Squeeze. I see her before me in my mind, begging to suck me off.

Goddamn I am about to blow as I crave her sweet mouth wrapped around me. I stroke and pump furiously and her tongue caresses the head of my dick licking down my shaft before capping her mouth over me. My balls tighten and I cum all over my hand, gripping my sheets white-knuckled.

Letting out an exasperated breath, I clean my mess and head back downstairs to torture myself by watching Isa strut in barely nothing.

**

The guys are all here tonight for a get together. Tonight Isa will learn what it means to be in my world. I’ve kept my men away for the most part not wanting them around her. But tonight will be a good test for both of us. I want to know if she will open herself up as much as she does with me, when she meets them. I need to know that we still share a bond. I want to know if the growing attraction she feels for me is because of me, or if she thinks getting into bed with me will earn her freedom and her father’s debt paid in full.

I can’t shake my visions of her from earlier as I watch my brothers lust after her. Grabbing her ass. She laughs at something Briggs just said and it pisses me off. The longer I stare at her the angrier I become. I feel enraged all over again that she can’t remember what she shared with me.

Rain is putting on a show, being overly affectionate, trying to get under Isa’s skin. Apparently it’s working as I see she has disappeared. I excuse myself from the party and find Isa in the library.

Chapter 11

Isabella

The Depraved Sinners have been here all evening raising hell. I have been working my tail off serving them. Fetching them their beer, cleaning up their ashes, and fixing their snacks.  A few of them have been grabbing at my butt, but I keep brushing it off, not letting them see how much it bothers me that they think I am a plaything, more so that Tristian is treating me as his toy.

When he first called me in to their gathering, he told them to make me feel welcome and a part of their crew. I wasn’t aware that feeling welcome meant being felt up.

I know he doesn’t owe me anything. But in the rare moments he shows me the tender side he keeps buried, I know he likes me if even it is just a little. He pretends it doesn’t get under his skin when Cyrus pulls me into his lap and nuzzles his face in my hair. But I can see the way his fist is clenched tight at his side and the hard set of his jaw as he looks away. The dark shadows of his tattoos flex under the dim light, as he gets ready to take his shot.

Tristian is playing pool with that witch Rain, doing his best to avoid my gaze. She keeps laughing at things he says that aren’t funny and rubbing all over him. It makes me angry when it shouldn’t. He isn’t mine, but why do I feel as if he should be?

Music is blaring through the sound system speakers hurting my ears and smoke clouds my vision. This isn’t my scene. I excuse myself, with the pretext of needing the bathroom.

I make sure no one is following me as I dart down the hall quickly and into the library. This is more my pace. Taking a random book from the closest shelf, I relax on a chaise, hoping they are too drunk to notice I’m missing. Tristian was too busy ignoring my presence to notice when I slipped out.

Surprisingly it doesn’t take long for Tristian to seek me out.

“Did I give you permission to leave?” He appears mysterious and broody with a storm raging behind his eyes.

I shouldn’t push my luck with him but I can’t help it. Something deep inside me craves his attention, whether good or bad. I
WANT
it. I
NEED
it. “I wasn’t aware I needed it,” I answer flippantly.

He shoves my feet to the side but places them back in his lap once he is seated. His fingers caress the curve of my arch. “Weren’t you enjoying the party?” He presses a pressure point in the center of my foot. Feels so good.

“Yeah, because your buddies fondling me and sniffing my hair is my idea of a great time. If you don’t need anything else from me tonight, I’ll just go to bed.” I try to move away but he is holding me hostage with the soothing tone of his voice and the touch of his caress.

“I want you back at the party,” he tells me continuing to rub my foot tenderly. He is so confusing. His smile is more charming than that of the devil himself.

I roll my eyes and turn my head. “I want a lot of things. It’s good to want things Tristian, but it doesn’t mean we’ll always get them.”  I raise my brow daring him to challenge the truth of my words.

“I’m not asking,” he warns, as his touch becomes rougher moving up my calf. “Give me a reason why I should send you to bed.”

“I don’t like being manhandled and touched by strangers,” I confess knowing he will use the knowledge to his advantage, but I can’t stop myself from being honest with him. It’s as if he pulls the truth out of me with his eyes.

“You’ll do what I tell you, or I will punish you.” He drops my legs and jerks me from the lounger as he stands.

He takes my hand in his leading me back to the party,
great
.  He’s going to make me pay for my honesty.

We walk down the hall in silence. He squeezes my hand, his touch is so warm and inviting. I wonder if this how prey feels, mesmerized by the stripes of a snake before it strikes burying his fangs in deep and pumping you full of poison. He shoves me to the center of the room. “Take off your dress Isa,” he orders.

I swallow hard, afraid to obey but afraid not to do as he says. Tristian hasn’t hurt me, but that doesn’t mean he won’t either. When I hesitate, he pulls out a pocketknife and cuts the fabric from my body, stripping me bare for all of his friends to see. They whoop, whistle, and call out things I’d rather not repeat.

Tristian watches me and only me like he doesn’t even hear the vile things they are saying about doing to my body.

I wrap my arms around my body tightly attempting to cover my breasts and my pelvic area, failing miserably. I am on the verge of tears when he sticks the tip of the blade under my chin. “Drop your arms and do a full turn. Don’t be shy princess. Let me see you. Show me what’s mine.”

“Fine,” I grit as one lonely tear slides down my cheek. I have never been so humiliated. No one has ever seen me naked other than my sisters when we were changing clothes or something. And now my body is on display for a room full of mean bikers who want to defile me.

“Don’t cry, my Isabella.” He leans in closer and licks my tear.

I shudder from the intimacy of his tasting my tear.

The touch of his tongue on my cheek is like nothing I have experienced before. The rest of the room disappears as he pulls my arms away from my body. He steps into my space shielding the front of my torso. His lips linger on my cheek, only touching not kissing or tasting my skin.

Right now it’s as if we are slow dancing in an empty room as he cradles my body to his. His hands roam over my shoulders, rubbing across my back and down to my butt. His mouth is still on me, searing my skin, with the tingle of his breath.

“Good girl,” he whispers breaking our shared contact.

Stunned at the sensual desire pooling between my legs, my eyes widen not wanting him to pull away and expose me once more to the others in the room I am well aware of once more.

“Spin,” he demands and I do, feeling self-conscious of all the eyes that are on me.

I can feel the heat of their stares against my skin. I turn fully, slowly, once. When I meet Tristian’s eyes, he seems pleased. And slips his leather cut over my shoulders. “Now they have had a peek and can continue to look but won’t touch.”  He goes on whispering, explaining that they will see me as his because I am wearing his vest. The rules of his motorcycle club seem barbaric, but if it keeps their hands off me then I never want to take his vest off. 

I can smell his cologne all over it and I want to keep his scent with me forever. It makes me feel safe.

Tristian surprises me pulling my panties from his pocket, bending down, slipping them over my feet, and sliding them up my legs. The way he touches me is tender, as I imagine a lover would do. But then he smacks my rear painfully hard and tells me to get back to pleasing him and serving drinks.

If only he could see, I could serve him in other ways. He doesn’t have to be so harsh and cruel.

Rain rolls her eyes at me and takes up a seat alone in the corner.

With her out of the way, the party continues and I serve them their drinks without any more touching or groping.  I am fully aware of Tristian’s eyes following my every move. The weight of his cut feels lighter on my shoulders, the longer I wear it.

I continue around the room ignoring Rain and her daggered glare. She must be jealous I have on what Tris calls his
cut.
I feel her eyes piercing into my back with every beer I open.

I can’t help but follow the heat of her gaze and meet her stare.

She motions me over and I don’t want to go, but Tristian sees my hesitation, and tells me to take care of her.

When I reach Rain her wine, she pulls on my hair again and sneers at me. “It will never work between the two of you. He was born to raise hell and you were born to turn heads. You aren’t meant to be a part of his world. You’ll never fit in with Tris or us.”

Her words strike a chord with me. I wasn’t aware I was trying to fit into his world. I just want to make it through our arrangement and just maybe discover the memories Tristian thinks I have lost.

“I don’t want to fit in with you or them,” I tell her boldly, ripping her fingers from my hair. “I just want to pay off my father’s debt and leave.”

Her eyes narrow at me, confusion crossing her face.

“And if you ever touch me again, you’ll regret it,” I snap at her and walk away.

I am done serving these assholes when the atmosphere takes a heated turn.  Some dude, I think his name is Briggs, walks over to Rain, pulls his cock out, and demands she sucks it. She doesn’t seem to mind either. My cheeks flush as she goes down on her knees and licks his flesh.

I turn to leave and Tristian captures me in his arms. “What’s the matter princess? Never seen a man get pleasured before?  I want you to watch.” He holds my head refusing to allow me to look away. When I close my eyes, he pinches my nipple forcing it to go hard.  “Open your eyes Isa, do you like what you see?” His lips are at my ear teasing me with the tip of his tongue. He licks the shell seductively.

Since he is back to playing his mind games, I press my backside into him before speaking. “I’d like it better if it were us alone, and me doing that to you. I’ve never experienced the feeling of having my tongue tasting any man’s cock.”

He sucks in a deep breath. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest behind me.  A hiss escapes his throat. “Is that what you want Isabella, to be my whore.”

“I’ll never be any man’s whore Tristian.” I turn into him now that he has loosened his hold on me. Looking deep into his eyes I whisper, “I don’t like to play games. So if you start playing with me, you had better mean it.”

“I know,” he says back swallowing hard.

I slip his cut off my shoulders exposing my chest and let the leather slide down my arms freely. He grabs it before it hits the floor. His jaw is slack as he watches after me with a sexual hunger burning through his dark eyes.

I look back at him over my shoulder and bat my lashes, with my lips in a perfect puckered pout. “I’m going to bed
NOW
.
ALONE
. Enjoy your show.”  I throw my hand in Rain’s direction as another biker fondles her breasts. Doesn’t she have any self-respect or is this what they do? Does Tris share her with his buddies?

I leave him standing, holding his cut stunned by my forwardness. Tristian awakens a side to me I never knew I had.

The brave woman screaming to get out feels daring, and when I go to my room I leave the door to my room unlocked, something tells me Tristian will come in either way though. If he stays downstairs with them…with her, I’m done with all of this, whatever it is.