Page 6 of Ruthless Obsession (Royal Bastards MC Chicago, IL Chapter)

“I can’t wait to surprise that piece of shit,” I growl.

“Anything else?” Prez asks.

“I’m also having Psycho infiltrate one of those auctions.”

They exchange dark, satisfied glances.

“Nice work, Ruthless,” Prez says.

“I met two women from Flare, Toby’s North Side club. I want to destroy every business he owns. Those two ladies are going to help destroy the clubs.”

Prez and Viper lift their whiskey glasses. Brillo and I raise our beers.

“To ripping that motherfucker apart. Royal Bastards style,” Prez says.

We clink drinks.

Prez’s eyes drop to my arm. “You’re bleeding.”

I turn over my arm and stare at it. “Shit.” The napkins are soaked. “I better get this taken care of.”

I stand, gaze hard. “Sophie gets the club’s protection. Doesn’t matter that her brother’s Prez of the Chi Hellraisers MC.”

Brillo rises to his feet. “You can’t be serious.”

I can feel Viper’s blue-eyed gaze burning a hole in my back. He’s not happy to hear this either. Noted.

Brillo’s blue eyes darken. “I fucking hate those assholes.”

He runs a hand over his dark brown hair. “They aren’t welcome on this property.”

A few MC clubs hang out at Lowes Bar. It’s a neutral location. Meaning no fights are to happen at the bar. If a fight breaks out each club is fined.

Brillo, Greaser, and Flex got into a bar brawl with a few of the Chi Hellraisers there.

I look at my cousin for help.

“We can’t have a Chi Hellraiser at our club,” Prez growls.

“Agreed,” Viper spits.

So much for him being on my side.

“I’ll find out how close she and her brother are,” I say.

Prez gets up in my face. “I can’t have any surprises. Like her feeding them information about our business.”

“I’ll find out where she stands with her brother.”

“No club business outside of church,” Prez snaps.

“Understood.”

I storm out, jaw clenched, blood still dripping. Beer ain’t cutting it—I need something stronger.

As I near the bar, I glance down at the red soaking through the napkins on my arm. Before I can order, a familiar voice pipes up.

“Vodka on the rocks.”

Sophie’s perched on a stool like she belongs here, legs crossed, tank top hugging those perfect tits, a smug little smile on her lips.

“What the fuck?” I growl.

“What?” she shrugs . “I was starving. Thirsty. You know that’s no way to treat a prisoner.”

“How the fuck did you get out of the cuffs?”

She winks, leans forward, and grabs my bleeding arm. “ You’re dripping. I’ll get the kit.”

“I’ve got it,” I mutter.

I place the empty beer bottle on the bar. “Squid, a whiskey neat.”

“Coming right up.”

I storm toward the bathroom.

When I return with the first aid kit, she’s still planted at the bar like she owns the place.

My eyes move over her tank top and shorts . “After you patch me up, you’re putting on my shirt,” I growl, setting the kit down. “Told you already—I don’t want my brothers eye-fucking what’s mine.”

She rolls her eyes. “Okay, Mavis.”

Sophie takes her time treating the wound. “Why is that woman staring at us?”

I glance across the room at the woman’s sad eyes.

“Because she asked to patch me up earlier.”

“Oh, so now all your women are going to hate me.” Sophie lifts a brow at me before meeting Jennifer’s gaze.

“You have nothing to worry about. I’m just his captive. He’s using me as a bargaining chip to get back at my boyfriend. I mean ex-boyfriend.”

Jennifer smiles like she has a chance with me.

“Don’t do that,” I order.

Sophie wraps the bandage around my arm.

“You shouldn’t have given the woman false hope. I told you, you’re mine now.”

My eyes move over her outfit again.

“And why do you have on this skimpy outfit?”

“It’s summer, Mavis.”

I shrug off my cut, then tug my shirt over my head. Sophie’s eyes roam the tattoos covering my chest, abs, and arms. I shove the t-shirt over her head.

“This is unnecessary, Mavis.” She shoves her arms through the sleeves.

I slam my palm on the bar before I shrug on my cut. “No one stares at Sophie. She’s fucking mine. ”

“Stop telling them that!” she snaps.

The prospects around us chuckle and turn back to their drinks.

“Ruthless, drink your whiskey,” Squid says trying to calm me down.

I gulp half the whiskey.

“Did you order food?” I ask her.

“Yes, don’t worry I told them to charge it to my kidnapper.”

I palm my face briefly then stare at her like the creeper she called me earlier.

She’s the kind of woman who has no idea how beautiful she is. I’ve told these assholes not to look at her, but they can’t stop staring at her. When they least expect it they’ll pay for looking at her.

Sophie’s long hair is thrown over one shoulder resting on her breast. It’s impossible not to stare into her beautiful brown eyes. Those lips. Fuck those pouty lips. I need to taste them now. I rein in my desire for this woman because after all she’s a virgin.

I turn away because all I want to do is take her back to my room and jack off in front of her.

To get my mind off her I carry on a random conversation with Squid. I smile inside because she can’t stop staring at me either.

“Ruthless,” I hear my name shouted behind me.

Shit. The twins.

Sophie brings her burger to her lips just as she peeks at the women.

“Of course they have fake boobs,” Sophie mumbles with a smirk.

“Hello, Krisa. Melissa.” I grin tightly.

They stare up with their baby blues under their long lashes twirling their long blonde curls.

They tug on my arm like I’m a carnival prize. “Let’s play pool!”

Sophie removes their hands off me. “ He’s injured. Can’t you see that?”

My dick hardens at her protectiveness.

“Chill, we won’t hurt him,” Krisa says.

“Ladies,” I say. “I’m not on the market anymore.”

Their smiles drop. “Stop joking, Ruthless,” Melissa pouts, reaching again.

“Touch him again and I’ll break your fingers,” Sophie says sweetly.

I’ve had enough.

“Time for alone time. Grab our drinks.”

“What?” she blinks.

I wrap an arm around her waist, pull her back against me. She snatches our drinks, and I grab her basket of food.

“Goodnight, everyone,” I call over my shoulder.

“Put me down, Mavis!” she hisses.

“Don’t squirm,” I whisper against her ear, then bite her neck gently.

“What the hell, Ruthless?” the twins screech.

“I’m not your chew toy,” Sophie growls.

“The fuck you’re not,” I chuckle, carrying her down the hall

The second I set her down and close the door, Sophie snatches her burger and fries out of my grip and flips on the light. “Remember you’re sleeping on the floor.”

“No,” I say, voice low. “We sleep together.”

She flops onto the bed, defiant.

“You can get up to pee in the middle of the night,” I tell her. “Try anything else and you’ll be pissing in a bucket.”

She rolls her eyes. “You should really let me go.”

“Not happening.” I growl, already losing patience.

Fifteen-minutes later, Sophie’s wearing another tiny t-shirt, bed shorts, and a red bonnet.

“I usually sleep naked but to keep you from touching my dick I think it’s best I wear boxers.”

Arms crossed, Sophie stares at the ceiling. “I don’t care if you sleep nude. As long as you do it on the floor.”

“You’re my captive. You sleep with me.”

“I’m used to sleeping alone,” she mutters.

Then it clicks. She wasn’t really his girlfriend. I’d bet anything he fed her a dream, kept her caged, bought her silence with comfort and control. I’m sure he told her they were a couple.

“How often did he stay at the house?” I ask.

Silence.

“At first, all the time. Then… less. Sometimes I’d wake up and he’d just be watching me.”

I climb into the full-size bed, wrap my arm around her, and breathe in the coconut oil scent clinging to her bonnet.

“I don’t need your sympathy.”

“I’m not offering it,” I mutter. “Go to sleep.”

It wasn’t the best sleep I’ve had, but it was enjoyable. My hard cock nestled against her ass half the night while she squirmed in protest. By three a.m., she used the bathroom, came back without a word, and passed out in my arms.

Good I wore her beautiful ass down.

She was right—I’d fucked a lot of women. But none of them stayed the night. None of them ever got to wake up next to me. Sophie was the first.

I release Sophie and rake a hand through my hair.

The disappointed look on Jennifer’s face from earlier flashes through my mind.

I remember when she begged to lie under me just to look into my eyes.

I didn’t give her that. Just pinned her against my dresser and took what I needed.

She kept reaching for my face, trying to kiss me. I never let her.

I don’t do intimacy.

After losing my parents, I struggled to let women into my life. Not many received my affection—they got what I gave. But Sophie? Sophie punched me in the nose and told me she wanted nothing to do with me… and somehow, she’s mine.

I curl my arm around her again and drift off.

Sometime later, I stretch and open my eyes. “Sophie. Time to wake up.”

“No,” she groans, her ass grinding into my morning wood.

Fuck. I love the way her ass looks and feels.

“Where the fuck am I?” Sophie jumps out of bed like her hair is on fire.

I peer at her and my cock stands tall waiting for her attention. “At the Royal Bastards MC clubhouse.”

She grips her bonnet. “You kidnapped me.”

“Sophie, we’ve established that. Go to the bathroom and do your thing. We leave in forty-five minutes.”

“I don’t want to be with you… at all,” she huffs.

“Is that so?” I ask as I stalk toward her slow and deliberate. Palming her ass, I press my nose to the crook of her neck, inhaling. She smells like lavender.

“I’m staying here,” she grits out.

“My pretty little captive you don’t have a choice. Get it together or you’ll ride in the trunk.”

She shoves my chest. “Asshole.”

∞

At seven a.m., I yank her out the side door.

“Why do I need to bring my bag? Aren’t we coming back here?” she asks.

I stop beside my bike and pull the spare helmet over her head.

“I thought we were riding in the car.”

“Nope. We’re taking my Harley.” I slide on my green aviators.

Her gaze drifts over the black and burgundy bike. “It’s beautiful.”

The smile on her face rises, then falters.

“What’s wrong?”

She chokes back the tears. “I miss riding my Ducati. She’s candy apple red.”

I tug my helmet on. “Where’s your bike?”

“At my parents’. I haven’t ridden it since...” She shakes her head.

“I won’t let you keep hiding shit from me. You’ve got one week to spill your guts, or I’ll rip your past to shreds.”

Her eyes narrow and her fists ball at her sides. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would, Sophie.” I swing a leg over the bike. “Get on.”

Once she’s behind me, I tug her arms around my waist. “I drive crazy, so hold on tight.”

I rev the engine and peel out of the lot.

“Fuck!” she yells behind me.

I laugh. Maybe the ride will shake some of the sadness out of her.

Twenty minutes later, I tap a button on my bike, and the black wrought-iron gates open.

“Who lives here?” she asks.

I don’t answer. Instead, I press another button, and one of the six garage doors rolls up.

“Does a shady rich guy live here?” she pushes.

We coast into the garage, and I kill the engine. “The guy who lives here isn’t shady.”

“Sure,” she mutters as she pulls off her helmet, eyes sweeping over the luxury cars lining the space.

I hold open the door to the mudroom. “We won’t be here long. I’ve got a meeting. My assistant who doubles as my stylist will bring a rack of clothes. Pick a dress that says you belong at a business meeting.”

She doesn’t ask questions Just nods.

I take her hand and lead her down the hall to my office. Her eyes linger on the abstract paintings lining the walls.

When I open the office door, her jaw drops. “What the hell is this?”

I glance at the bulletin board full of pinned surveillance photos and intel.

“My target,” I say. “Your ex-boyfriend.”