The Biker's Plaything (Straight to Hell MC Book 1) by Sam Crescent (best selling autobiographies .TXT) 📕

“Do not mistake thiskindness I’m offering you as any weakness. You belong to me, Beth.”

She nodded, feelingthe smile fall from her. Of course. There was no chance of her ever beinghappy. She was surrounded by men determined to hurt her. Who only wanted to useher for their own gains.

Her father had madesure she wasn’t near any men growing up, believing her virgin state would helphis cause. He’d been right. Look at where she was now. In the middle ofnowhere, surrounded by an MC club she didn’t know, with instructions to keephim happy.

The first time shesaw a naked man was on a television screen with her father right beside her andhis men. It had been so embarrassing. She was sure if there had been more time,he’d have even forced her to practice. The humiliation washed over her.

“Now, are you hungry?”

She nodded her head.It was easier not to talk. To just nod her head. Be the quaint little submissiveeveryone wanted her to be. Not to put up a fight or to pretend she wanted her ownlife.

Forge took herhand and she tried to ignore the heat coming from him. Even as he’d brought herswiftly down to the real world, he still felt safe and warm.

They left thebedroom, walking down the long corridor, going toward the stairs. There wereseveral rooms on the floor, and they were on the third floor. Forge had toldher on the way up. They went to the main clubhouse floor. Men and women weresinging, dancing, laughing, drinking, having a good old time of it.

Forge didn’t linger.He pulled her toward the kitchen where the counters were laden with food.

Her mouth watered.

He let go of her handbut didn’t walk away. He handed her a plate and she took it, staring at the food.

She had always beenon a diet at Peterson’s house. The family cook had to prepare her meals and shenever felt full. Of course she never went hungry butshe’d never been satisfied and if Peterson’s wife felt like it, her rationswere often cut in half.

Just another reminderof the whore’s daughter she was.

Pushing thosefeelings aside, she walked with Forge and put food on her plate.

“You can havewhatever you want.” Forge turned toward the women in the kitchen. “She belongsto me. You give her any trouble, you answer to me. I won’t have you fucking with her. Understand?” His voice filled the space ofthe kitchen. He was so loud and commanding.

The women noddedand within seconds, they were gone. They’d rather clear out of the kitchen thanrisk being near her.

Nice.

No, she feltmiserable. No one would ever take the risk to be her friend.

Once her plate wasfull, she took a seat beside Forge, but her appetite had disappeared. Shegrabbed her fork and began to work through her food. Her hand shook and shetried to stop it. She didn’t want to draw attention or anger him.

“Those women, they’reclub pussy. You don’t need to get mixed up with them. They’ll never be yourfriends.”

“I didn’t … whydid they leave?” she asked. Could he read her mind?

“Because they knownot to be around me unless I want them. Don’t ever be alone with club pussy. I’llintroduce you to some of the old ladies. They will more than likely be yourfriend.”

Did she even wanta friend right now?

End of sample chapter

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