He wet his thick lips, turning her on even more. “And I won’t. Not until these bruises have faded and your hand’s healed.”
She didn’t want to wait that long. But the fact he’d hold off for her benefit made her feel special.
“And then what will you do to me?”
“I plan to fuck you raw, little girl. I’ll have you begging me for cock. I may be an ugly motherfucker, but when I’m done with you, I promise you won’t care.”
Chapter Seven
Lord had hoped Ally would finally believe him and allow herself time to relax around the club. Two weeks later, though, he knew she wasn’t going to give him the chance to prove anything.
They’d all decided on a barbeque for dinner tonight. A couple of the club pussy had gone with some of the guys to the store, grabbing meat and vegetables to throw onto the grill. A buffet table was set up, and music filled the air but not too loud that conversation couldn’t be heard.
He watched Ally. She didn’t try to make any kind of run for it. Not for the last two weeks. And not today. Whenever he got to his room, she was always sound asleep, curled up in the corner of the bed.
The bruises had mostly faded away. He didn’t like the way she kept a wall up between them. How long was he expected to wait?
The night she’d been attacked, he’d called church and made sure everyone knew what it meant if they messed with Ally. He forced them all to realize she was important to him, and not to fucking mess with her. There was no way in hell he’d entertain a replay of what happened two weeks ago, and everyone knew it.
With the fact he’d already killed one of the whores and buried her, the women had fallen in line. None of the old ladies were present tonight. They hadn’t hung around the club much. From what he could see, Ally tended to help with cleaning up after parties, and then she’d take her seat outside and watch the sun set.
Like now, she had a plate in front of her filled with food, but he’d yet to see her eat anything. Maybe taking a civilian as his woman would never work.
She ran her fork across everything, without pronging it. Would she ever accept life in the club?
“You okay?” Brick asked.
He’d been asking that question an awful lot lately, and Lord was tired of it.
“Why the fuck wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re staring at that chick real hard. She’s your property, man. Go over there and tell her what it’s all about.”
Lord looked at Brick. He trusted the man more than anyone else. It was why he’d made him VP, why he was willing to listen to him.
“What have the boys been saying?” he asked, taking a bite of his burger.
“About what?”
“About anything.” He didn’t care what they thought of his leadership skills. All he cared about was what they thought of Ally.
“They think you’re pussy whipped. They’re curious about her, that’s about it. None of them have anything else to say otherwise.” Brick shrugged. “It’s hard for them to understand. Pussy is pussy, Lord. What makes her so different?”
He watched Ally. She put her fork down to tuck some hair behind her ear. She stared across the yard, not making eye contact with anyone, forever in a daze. He’d already gotten a full background check on her and there was nothing about her life that she would miss. No one waiting for her. She had a couple of friends, but from what he’d read, they were so hung up on their own lives they didn’t give a shit about the friend who never called back.
Gripping the back of his neck, he frowned as he watched her.
She was really something.
Beautiful.
Sweet.
Kind.
That was what he’d gotten from the information, and it seemed hard to believe she was Richard’s daughter. The pain he’d heard in her voice after she’d been attacked, he’d wanted to take it all away. To protect her. He’d never wanted to help anyone.
Ally was different. No doubt about that.
He swallowed the last of his beer, tossed the bottle into the trashcan, and made his way over to her.
“That food isn’t going to yell at you if you eat it,” he said.
Her brow rose. “I’m not very hungry.”
“You haven’t been very hungry for two weeks.”
“I guess this place is the best diet I’ve been on.” She pressed her lips together. He wanted to force-feed her, but instead, he held his hand out.
She frowned at his hand.
“Come on,” he said.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“I’m not asking permission, princess. I can make you, and you will follow my orders.”
She looked like she wanted to throw her food at him, but instead, she put her plate on her chair and stood. She wore a pair of sweatpants and the ugliest shirt he’d ever seen. None of it highlighted her feminine curves. It was like she was trying to hide from him, but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of doing that.