Reaper's Property

Grabbing her arm, he dragged her out of the trailer and into the orchard, pushing her back against one of the trees. She was breathing hard, making her boobs rise and fall, taunting him. He was pissed at Jeff, pissed at Ruger and pissed at Marie for being so damned perfect that she’d pushed him to this after he should have cut her loose. He’d offered her everything and she’d thrown it back in his face, yet she was perfectly willing to pimp herself out for that f**kface of a brother.

“I don’t want to sleep with you,” he told her grimly. “I want to f**k you. Sleeping, cuddling, all that other shit is for girlfriends and old ladies, and you’ve made it pretty f**king clear you aren’t interested in any of that,” he said, thinking about the leathers he’d gotten for her. What a joke. “I’m threatening your brother because he stole from the club, which had nothing to do with you. You steal from the club, you pay in blood. You’re his blood. We take you, he pays. Fucking you is just a bonus.”

“So you’re taking me to show that people shouldn’t steal from the club?” she asked, and he thought he saw a glint of understanding in her eyes. Finally.

“It’s a f**kin’ miracle, she gets it,” he muttered to no one, throwing up his hands. “Your brother’s lucky, because I wanna stick my dick in you more than I wanna kill him. Otherwise this wouldn’t be worth the trouble. If Jeff-hole gets his shit together and pays back the club I might let you go—when I’m done with you. If he doesn’t, then I’ll find some other use for you. Got it?”

Let her go? Not likely. Still, he had to play out the game. At some point she’d talk to her brother again, and when she did, dickwad needed to hear the right message.

“No games, no bullshit,” he said. He stepped away, trying to calm down, then turned back toward her. She looked terrified, clutching her hands together, tears streaming down her face. Suddenly he felt like an ass**le. “You do this, it’s your choice. I’m not raping you. You’re making a decision to pay for your brother’s mistake on your back. You get me?”

She stared at him, eyes full of condemnation. That shamed him, and he didn’t like the feeling. Anger felt better.

“I’m serious,” Horse said, glaring at her, daring her to defy him. Fighting would be better than just watching her silently sucking it up for her brother. Hell, he liked fighting with her. Made his dick stand up and take notice. “You call it off any time you want. I’m not gonna lock you up and watch you every minute. You make this deal, it’s up to you to keep it. And you don’t have to make the f**king deal. Your brother’s an idiot and he knew what he was getting into. This isn’t your mess and it’s not your job to bail him out.”

“You trying to talk me out of it?” she asked with quiet dignity. “Well, you can’t. I meant what I said. I’d do anything for Jeff. Anything.”

Horse clenched his jaw and spun away from her, needing some kind of outlet for his anger and frustration before he did something really stupid. He kicked one of the trees and the throbbing pain in his foot helped him focus.

What exactly did he want from her, anyway? He needed her in his bed, in his house. She’d made it clear she wouldn’t end up there on her own. Was it his fault her brother was the biggest idiot on earth? Horse was offering them a lifeline, yet she judged him for it. Again. Just like she’d judged him for offering her a place as his old lady.

Stupid woman didn’t have the first clue what she needed but he’d give it to her anyway.

Hopefully ten times a day.

Horse watched as Marie dug through her closet. The room felt too small, he couldn’t breathe. It didn’t help that every time she leaned over, her shirt rode up and her pants pulled down, exposing the black line of a thong he wanted to rip off her body with his teeth.

His c**k had gone from hard to painfully swollen. He adjusted it, trying to find a comfortable position, but the only place it wanted to be was pumping between her legs. Determined to drive him crazy, her ass wiggled at him every few seconds until he started to seriously wonder if he’d come in his pants. Marie pulled out a shoebox and tossed it on the bed. It spilled open and he sat down and flipped through the photos, desperate for a distraction. He saw shots of her when she was a teen, her and Jeff decked out in swimsuits as kids, arms around each other. There was a picture of her at a school dance… And there was her wedding picture.

Shit.

He pulled it out, noting the streaks of dried blood staining it. So this was Gary. The guy looked like every played-out, high school jock-turned-bully on earth. Big and meaty, he probably ran to fat now that he didn’t have a coach to kick his butt. He looked like an ass**le, holding the sweet and delicate Marie in his hands like some kind of county fair prize. Marie was gorgeous, but way the f**k too young. She wore a simple white dress and held a bouquet of daffodils. Douchebag wasn’t even wearing a suit. Everything screamed cheap-wedding-between-kids-way-too-young, but Horse still felt a powerful wave of jealousy.

Gary had taken that pretty girl in the picture home, pulled off her dress and f**ked her.

Should’ve killed the man when he had the chance.

Horse glanced over at Marie, who was still digging through the closet. Her thong teased him and he realized that she’d probably bought the damned thing for Gary—and she still had the picture of them together. The wave of jealousy turned tsunami, and Horse had a sudden vision of her meeting up with Gary, of him trying to change her mind about leaving. Women got back together with losers all the time.

“You wear that shit for him?” he asked, holding up the wedding picture. She looked blank.

“That butt floss,” he snapped. “Why the f**k are you wearing a thong to work at a daycare? Are you seeing him again?”

“No!” she said, eyes wide. “I haven’t seen him since that last time, you should know that. He hasn’t called me, nothing. When I get all the papers ready, Denise’s husband said he’d serve them for me.”

Horse grunted, trying not to lose it. Of course she hadn’t seen him again, the man beat the shit out of her. Marie wasn’t stupid. And what about the ass**le who’s kidnapping her? Horse wondered. What does she think of me? He pushed the thought away, focusing on the thong again—once they got home, he’d take her to Victoria’s Secret, get her all new shit. None of Gary’s sloppy seconds in his house.