Willa turned her head so she couldn’t see his reaction. “Pirates.”
“Pirates?”
She nodded. “You know, they wear leather pants and vests, have tattoos—”
“I know what they wear.” Lucky’s gentle voice had her chancing a glance at him. “You never stood a chance, did you?”
She shook her head, understanding what he meant. Lucky resembled a modern-day pirate with his sharp features and tattoo-covered body.
“I’ll be right back.” Abruptly, he left the bedroom door, closing it behind him.
Willa stared at the floor in consternation. He could have just told her he wanted to laugh in her face; he didn’t need to leave the room to do it.
She was about to turn to go back into the bathroom when the bedroom door was flung open and Lucky came in carrying a plain, leather vest.
“Mine has patches. I took one that Viper bought for a new recruit. I’ll buy him another one. Don’t you dare tell me you’ll find one on sale, or I’ll smack that ass of yours.”
“Don’t forget to shut the door.” Willa usually checked to make sure the door was locked when Lucky wasn’t looking. She was paranoid a gust of wind would blow the door open and she would look up when Lucky was making love to her and find a couple of The Last Riders watching.
“In a minute, I’m waiting for—”
Willa nearly ran to the bathroom, but Lucky caught her. “Trust, siren. Remember that, okay?”
“Okaaaay.”
Lucky turned her back to the doorway where Rider was standing, wearing black leather pants and no shirt. He was also holding a gleaming sword, that was held confidently in his hand.
“Why did I have to put these on? I almost couldn’t fit in them anymore. I have to quit eating so many cookies or start working out more.” He gave Willa a wink, grinning.
“You have a sword?”
“I like to collect different objects. I had it hanging on my bedroom wall.”
“It’s scary-looking.” Willa stared at the long, thin sword.
“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” Rider appeared happy at what he thought was a compliment. It wasn’t.
“I’ll be right back.”
Willa watched as her husband went to the dresser where he kept his clothes, opening the bottom drawer and pulling out a pair of black leather pants. Without saying a word, he went into the bathroom to get changed.
Willa spun back to face Rider.
“Dinner was good tonight,” he said casually.
“Th-Thank you.”
“Next time, could you fry more chicken breasts? Razer ate three of them, Shade two, and I only got one. Stingy bastards.”
“I saw you get three chicken legs,” Willa reminded him.
“I like more meat. There isn’t enough on a leg.”
Willa took a step back. “I’ll remember that.”
“All right, let’s get started,” Lucky announced, coming out of the bathroom in the leather pants. “Shut the door, Rider.”
Willa expected Rider to go out the door and close it behind him; instead, he closed the door and turned to face them expectantly.
“Willa, go stand by the bed for a minute while I talk to Rider.”
She was about to argue, but then she remembered she had her safe word if she began to feel uncomfortable. Of course, she had no problem screaming it at the top of her lungs, either.
Warily, she watched the men as they talked. She looked down, rubbing her toes through the thick carpet, trying to overhear what they were saying.
“Ready?”
Willa was proud of herself; she only hesitated for a second or two before she answered, “Yes, I’m ready.”
Lucky’s expression changed in an instant, becoming the man she had always sensed was hidden behind his sophisticated appearance. More surprising and frightening was the change in Rider.
His expression became cold and aloof, as if she was only there to please him. The look really suited the spoiled biker. Willa didn’t know which man to look at first, as both were compelling.
Rider’s easygoing nature was gone as he walked a circle around her, stopping once again by Lucky’s side.
“Your ship is now my property, just as you are.”
“No, I’m not,” Willa muttered.
“What did you say?” Lucky’s voice dropped to a lethal level that literally had goose bumps going up her arms, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he had a decidedly French accent. “My name is Captain Francois Le Danc. This is my quarter master, John Donnelly.”
Willa couldn’t resist another quick glance at Rider. She had never really paid much attention to the man’s body before. He was only slighter shorter than her husband, but he was heavier. There was no sign of the easygoing friend she was used to cutting up with.
“Did you hear me?”
“Um, yes. I said, no, I’m not your property.”
“Do. Not. Move.”
Lucky took the sword from Rider, easily cutting through the belt of Willa’s robe. As her robe parted, exposing her pajamas, Lucky lowered the sword, going behind her back. He slid the robe off, first one shoulder then the other, and the loosened robe fell to the floor.
Willa felt Rider’s eyes drop to her red satin pajama shorts and her red cami. Neither showed any more skin than if she were wearing a tank top and shorts. Regardless, Willa was self-conscious of her plump curves in front of Rider. She forced herself to look at him, seeing him give her a wink, and Willa relaxed.
Rider was her friend, and his casual attitude made her feel comfortable in a strange way.
“What’s your name, lass?” Rider’s voice was gruff as his molten silver eyes glided over her body.
“Willa.”
Lucky raised a brow.
Willa shrugged. What fun was a fantasy if she couldn’t be herself, albeit more sultry and trampy? She firmly kicked her mother’s voice out of her head.
“Are you denying you’re my property?”
“Yes.”
“You leave me no choice but to show you I am your master.”
Before Willa could blink, she was tossed over Lucky’s shoulder and carried across the bedroom floor, placing her against the wall. He grabbed one of her hands, raising it above her head where two paintings had hung. Now there were two hooks that looked like they had been drilled in the wall.
Lucky went to the cabinet and opened a drawer, pulling out two chains with cuffs on one end. He handed one to Rider, and then both men cuffed a wrist and raised it above her head, chaining her against the wall.
Lucky and Rider took a step back, surveying their handiwork.
“Who is your master?” Lucky asked again.
This time, Willa remained stubbornly silent. No good would come out of it if she answered him the way she was tempted to.
Lucky read the stubborn determination in her eyes.
“She’s a fiery lass, isn’t she?”
“Break her, Captain,” Rider said, turning on his heel and going to the nightstand to pick up two scarves and a wicked-looking knife that looked sharper than anything she would have in her kitchen.
Rider strode back, handing Lucky one of the scarves and taking the sword from him before handing him the knife.
Willa watched as Lucky, with a flick of his wrist, used the knife to cut the scarf in two pieces that floated softly to the floor.
Rider then handed Lucky the other scarf that looked thicker and was black. He tied it around her eyes, blocking them from her sight.
“I have her under control now. Go swab the deck,” she heard him order Rider.