The Biker's Plaything (Straight to Hell MC 1)

“I’m having some clothes sent up for you. You’ll need to be comfortable while you’re here.”

She turned to his voice and saw him set the radio down. “How long will that be?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“What does that mean? Do I get to leave once to take my virginity? Or am I your prisoner forever?”

“You’re talkative for a girl who should be dead. I’ve never gone soft when dealing with rats. And that’s exactly what’s happening here. I’m not sure what to make of it.”

He sounded disappointed with himself for keeping her alive, like being human was a weakness. With his reputation, she was a bit surprised herself.

“My father was a rat, not me.”

“And what are you, Ally Prixman?”

Her body immediately tensed. There was this sliver of hope that he felt the same odd pull between them. Maybe his conflict was proof that she was more than an average woman to him. Or she was dreaming and her fantasies would come crashing down in a hurry.

“I’m … I’m just a girl trying to survive in life. Trying to find happiness even when it’s constantly being stripped away from me.”

“So you’re a glass-half-full kind of girl.” He winked.

He didn’t pity her. It was refreshing.

His calm, deep baritone soothed her. He never made eye contact, just continued doing what he’d been doing despite the fact she’d just left herself vulnerable. It was rare for her to share her deep-seated feelings.

Lord tugged off his t-shirt. His shoulders were huge and corded with muscle, his skin covered in intricate ink. She couldn’t stop staring. He was a beast of a man.

He rooted in his drawer, then pulled on a white wife-beater. When he turned, she quickly looked to the floor. The shirt hugged his muscles, highlighting those six-pack abs. Her cheeks felt as hot as a cooktop. Did he realize she’d been staring? Maybe drooling?

He chuckled. “Your age is showing.”

She cocked her head to the side. “What does that mean?”

“You haven’t lost your innocence.” Someone knocked on his door, capturing her attention. “I like that.” He went to answer it.

She could smell the food almost immediately. Her stomach rumbled in response. The last time she’d eaten was over twenty-four hours ago, and it hadn’t been much. Just some leftovers she’d managed at the bar.

“Sweetheart, give me a hand.”

It took her a few seconds to realize he was talking to her. She wasn’t used to terms of endearment, even if it was normal for him.

Ally walked closer to the door. Three scantily clad women stood in the hall holding trays of food. Lord handed one to her and told her to put it on the bed.

After the door closed tight, she couldn’t help but comment, “This looks a lot better than the sandwich they gave me.”

“I’m their prez. They make sure to give me the best.”

He set his tray next to hers on the bed. It was a feast, a smorgasbord of food she wasn’t used to. Everything looked mouthwatering, like a meal fit for a king—or the president of a motorcycle club. Lord flicked on the large screen television.

“Here are some clothes.” He tossed a few women’s clothes on the mattress near her. “Why don’t you get changed, then we can enjoy this food and watch a movie.”

Ally was genuinely confused but was too scared to complain and ruin a good thing. Her curiosity got the better of her and she couldn’t keep her big mouth shut.

“Why are you being nice to me?”

He froze, obviously taken aback. Time seemed to stand still as he stared at her, his shoulders back and eyes cold. What had she done?

“Don’t mistake kindness for weakness, little girl. Trust me, when the time comes, you won’t be able to say the same thing.”

She swallowed hard but kept pushing. “Why?”

He growled, his jaw twitching. “Just eat the fucking food.”

This time, she kept her thoughts to herself. Honestly, she didn’t want things to change between them. Right now, she felt calm and safe—even if she was technically his prisoner. It was a big change from her usually hectic and unpredictable life. She had a roof over her head, clothes, food, and a man she was undeniably falling for.

She knew it wasn’t healthy. She knew she had issues. And it still didn’t change a thing.

But a man like Lord would never be satisfied with a nineteen-year-old nobody. He was surrounded by drop-dead gorgeous women. Women with experience. Women who knew how to please a man. Like he said, she was just a little girl to him.

She had nothing to offer.

Lord settled on the opposite side of the bed, the mattress dipping and jostling the platters. He leaned on one elbow and popped some fresh grapes into his mouth, glancing over at her as she took a bite of her lasagna. It tasted so good that she couldn’t help but let out a little moan.