Page 17 of Hot Wife Summer

We chat for a while. About anything and everything, enjoying the tacos coming our way. She’s a nice girl, and I’m happy to make a friend on top of everything else. We’re not too sure what became of the other girls at the event, but they’re in good hands if the Wildfire MC has anything to do with it.

Soon enough though, I’m left sitting at the bar, all alone. It’s the afternoon, no one’s in for the evening yet, and Tara went to take a nap. Said she wants to be nice and energetic for when Edge comes back home.

I sip some water and contemplate taking a nap myself, but remember that feeling of dread that I said I was happy to be without?

There is a reason I had it for so long. I was usually right to feel that way.

“Baylee. There you are. How fucking dare you run off like this?”

Uncle Jericho’s voice. I turn in my seat to face the source. My scumbag of an uncle is there, flanked by my drunk-out-of-his mind father and some guy in a suit. He looks clean-cut, his hair slicked back, giving me real American Psycho vibes and looking woefully out of place inside this biker bar.

I freeze at the sight of Uncle Jericho. He stomps right up to me. “What are you doing here? You don’t belong here, Baylee.”

“Go away, Uncle Jericho. I’m not going with you ever again,” I say, working up the courage to cross my arms defiantly.

“No, you’re not going with me. You’re going with him, Baylee.” He gestures back at the suit behind him.

I glare with disgust toward the suit. “What? Why would I do that?”

“Because I paid a pretty penny for you,” the suit says, “and I intend to collect what I paid for.”

“The auction was cancelled, I never went onstage,” I snap back.

“Yeah, but this man saw you waiting in the wings and he wants you,” Jericho says. “He came right to us and offered to buy you outright, and your father agreed.”

“Go with the man, Baylee,” my dad slurs, barely able to stand on his own two feet.

“I like the cute, innocent types. They’re the most fun to break,” the suit says, adjusting his tie in a way that suggests he thinks it’s cool and sexy to do that.

“No!” I yell. Some of the Wildfire bikers in the back of the bar finally pick up on what’s happening and suddenly they’re surrounding us. Back-up. Thank god. “I’m not going anywhere, Uncle Jericho. Not with you, and not with this creep.”

“That’s funny,” the suit says. “Because I’ve heard of this club and its... less than savory practices.”

“Less than savory?” I glare. “They rescued us. From guys like you.”

“Vigilantism is against the law, little girl. You can’t just do stuff like that without police authority. And that’s only the first of the charges I could get brought against this place. I have friends in very high places. Up to the Governor's mansion. I could have this whole building condemned from any slight code violation, and every person who calls this place home behind bars, waiting for a trial, no bail, for the countless charges that will be brought against them.”

“Fuckin’ lawyers,” one of the bikers mutters.

“Victor Gabriel, District Attorney, nice to meet you all.”

“Go fuck yourself!” another biker snarls.

“I’ll fuck her instead, thank you very much.” He clears his throat. “If one of your ‘friends’ here lays a finger on me, I’ll destroy them with something far more powerful than muscles, little girl.”

He’s smugness incarnate. I hate him with all my heart, even more than I hate Uncle Jericho.

“So you’re going to come with me. Quietly. I paid for you, and you’re mine now.”

I bite my lip as fear winds through me. The bikers are on edge. They don’t care about his legal threats. They’re about to act on pride and honor, as these types of men always do. They’ll destroy themselves before they let me leave with him. And I can’t let that happen to people who’ve been so nice to me, a complete stranger until yesterday. The only way to stop it is to cooperate with these assholes, as awful as that sounds to me.

I shake in place. I wonder if there’s anything I can do beyond just going with this man. I wonder what Blaze would do, and I realize he’d have already throttled this Victor. And then I remember, last night changed one thing about me that has to be important to him.

“I’m not a virgin anymore.” That’s what this sick fuck is after, right? Some pure, untouched maiden he can claim as his own and deny the opportunity to experience another man?

What he says in response, though, surprises me. “I don’t care.”

“You... you don’t care?” I cock an eyebrow.

“You think a shady operation like yesterday checks hymens or whatever? No. Whether you slept with a man or not has no bearing on anything to me. What I want is your innocence, little girl. I want to break you. I want you to cry for me. To scream for me. Oh, the things we’ll experience together. They’ll be so wonderful.” He grabs me by the hair. “Now come along. My payment to your uncle only clears once you’re in my car.”


Tags: Frankie Love Erotic