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“Oh my god.” I laugh, quickly covering my mouth with my hand. I turn back around to face Beast. “How? I mean, just how?” I ask confused, yet amused by the sight before me.
Beast shrugs as he walks back into the kitchen. He opens the fridge and takes out a carton of orange juice and drinks straight from it. The light from the fridge casts a glow over his broad body. “No idea.” He sighs between gulps. “It’s just, things get wild.” He shrugs.
“So, you didn’t dare him to do that while drunk?” I ask, watching as Beast still continues to drink from the carton. “And will you just get a glass? I mean, I’m guessing that is for everyone, and you’re drinking out of it like an animal,” I say while scrunching up my nose in disgust.
Beast smiles while placing the carton back into the fridge. “You sound like Queenie. How old are you?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “24. Why?”
“Because darlin’, sometimes you speak like you are a lot older, and to answer your previous question, no, I didn’t dare him. I didn’t join in tonight’s festivities. I was preoccupied,” he states.
The door to the kitchen opens and a woman peeks around it. “Beast, what’s taking you so long?” she whispers.
His gaze doesn’t leave mine. “Nothing. Get back to bed. I will be there in a minute,” he orders.
She nods and leaves, and not once did she look in my direction or argue back with him. I walk to the tub of pasta and grab it before walking to the door. His eyes are watching my every move, making me feel uncomfortable and awkward.
“Well, it’s been interesting, but I don’t want to keep you a moment longer,” I say as I go to step past him, but he moves his body in front of mine, forcing me to stop. I gasp, nearly spilling pasta all over his bare torso. “Careful,” I hiss.
He leans in close, so close I wonder if he’s about to kiss me. His hand cups one side of my face. I try to control my breathing, but I fail terribly as my heart races inside my chest. I want to stop him, ask him what does he think he’s doing, but the connection from brain to mouth has ceased working. His mouth hovers over mine before moving to the side, where he slowly and seductively licks along my cheek. He lets out a deep throaty moan before dropping his hand from my face and moving back. In my aroused state, I suddenly feel like someone has just thrown a bucket of cold water over me. I straighten my back and clear my throat as Beast stands there with a smirk on his face.
“You had some sauce on your face, and Queenie’s pasta salad is too good to waste.” He winks.
My cheeks heat with embarrassment and anger. I push past him, not saying a word. I hear his deep chuckle echoing behind me. Storming back to my room, I walk in and slam my door. I then proceed to flip it off, like Beast is the door. I place down the tub of pasta and pace angrily.
“That mother fucker,” I mutter to myself. “He was just playing a game with me,” I fume. I’m not one to ever be played, ever. Not once has a guy got me that wound up. I look down at the pasta salad. “Stupid pasta salad!” I screech.
CHAPTER THREE
BELLE
It took me forever to fall back asleep last night. My mind kept questioning what Beast’s game was, and I was left aroused but too angry to sort myself out, as I’m sure that’s what he wanted. Also, I never do as I’m told. Even with what happened when I was tied up, that was because I told him to. I wanted to try it.
Washing my hair under the hot spray, I start to think of ways I can get my own back on Beast. He wants to tease me? Well then, he must like me in some way to want to do that, right? I look at the small towel on the side next to the large bath towel. I smile, and after switching the shower off, I reach for it and hold it up against my body. It covers the front of me, while leaving my behind completely exposed.
I grab the large bath towel and throw it in the corner behind the door before I open my bedroom door. I look up and down the hall to make sure no one is there before I tip-toe over to Beast’s door. I knock loudly and wait for what feels like forever, until the door opens and Beast is stood there bare chested, his jeans undone and hanging low on his hips.
His eyes sweep down my body and I clear my throat. “Er, I don’t suppose you have a spare towel? This one is erm, a little small,” I say while turning slightly to the side to show him that I’m completely exposed at the back.
He leans against the door and crosses his arms over his chest. “No,” is all he says.
“No?” I question.
“No, I don’t have a spare one. You’ll have to make do with that one,” he elaborates.
“Oh,” I answer, not expecting that response. I think quickly and decide I can play this to my advantage. I was hoping that he would get me a towel and I would drop this one while briefly wrapping the new larger one around me, giving him a few seconds to take in my wet body. Now I will have to be braver. I’m not ashamed of my body, at all. I’m curvier than most girls; I have large hips, bigger than average breasts, a bit of a tummy, and a round ass. I embrace my body, and I’m not embarrassed by it. “Well, that’s annoying, but I guess I will have to try and make do.” I sigh as I move the towel further down, slowly moving my hand in a circular motion as if I’m drying my body. His eyes are watching my every move. I pause, just as my breasts were about to be fully exposed. “Thanks anyway,” I say in a chirpy tone before turning around and sauntering back to my room with a wide smile on my face. I turn slightly as I go to shut my door, looking back at Beast. His eyes are burning with desire, and I blow him a kiss before shutting the door. Pausing, I listen, waiting for the sound of his door closing before I do a little victory dance. Oh, how it feels to be the one with all the power. Who knew being forced to stay overnight at a bikers’ club would be so much fun?
Once I’m dressed, wearing the same clothes as yesterday—as no one had any clothes my size—I head down to the kitchen. The smell of breakfast wafting down the hall makes my stomach rumble. Carrying the tub of pasta salad, I push open the kitchen door, and Queenie’s head looks up from where she’s cooking.
I hold up the tub. “Sorry. I got peckish last night,” I apologise.
She smiles and takes the tub. “No need. I thought you might. It’s why I left you some in the fridge. You honestly think there are normally any leftovers in this place?” she asks, rolling her eyes. “Now, go and sit. Breakfast is nearly ready.” She points.
I walk out of the other door, and next to the bar is a long table, all laid up. The brothers of the Black Hearts and their ol’ ladies and kids are all sat around, talking and laughing. Feeling like I’m imposing, I’m about to walk to the chair on the far side, but I’m stopped as Beast pulls the chair out next to him.
“Sit your ass down, darlin’,” he orders quietly. I look around the table to see if anyone heard his demand. No one has, as they are all still too busy chatting amongst themselves. I sit down next to Beast, and he keeps his large arm slung on the back of my chair, like he’s keeping me caged in. He reaches for the jug of juice and pours me a glass, along with pouring me a coffee.
“Thanks,” I mutter, reaching for the coffee. I peer at him over my mug, and he looks at me like he’s assessing me. “What?” I ask.
