I wake up and the first things my senses get are his smell and his touch. We have found the sweet spot of sleeping together and it was the same as that night, the first night he brought me back. His head rests so close to my neck and his breath caresses me all night, making me feel safe. His arms are around me, sheltering me, holding on me but not too tight.
And then it’s that clean smell of his, all soap and toothpaste and something so deeply masculine, no amount of cleaning products can mask. I take a deep breath to enjoy having him around me and I close my eyes in satisfaction.
Images from last night come into mind and I involuntarily squeeze my legs together. Sex with Wood was good to begin with, even that drunk, angry night we spent. But after I opened that secret drawer, everything has changed for both of us. The sensations he brings to me and my body...
I close my eyes and I get the images from last night. Blindfolded and bound, all I could do was to feel him and his touch. When he knelt before me and took me with his mouth and hand, I thought I was going to die and fly to Heaven. I don’t even know how I kept standing up.
And then he threw me on the bed, my arms bound somewhere on the head of the bed and he continued that sweet torture, tasting me slowly, ordering me to stay still and silent and that intensified everything. When he entered me, he was rough but it was what my body was humming for. His thrusts deep and hard, his grunts low and gruff, his skin on mine soft and his muscles tight. When he allowed me to come, I am sure everyone heard me.
I stir in his arms, thinking about waking him and demanding release from the throbbing want these thoughts brought upon my body but I hold back. I am going to return the favor by making him breakfast. So far, he hasn’t given me the opportunity to feed him so I slowly try to wiggle out of his arms.
He stiffens but I caress him till he settles and finally I am out of the bed. For a few seconds, I just stand there to look at that perfect man, naked on the bed and I feast on his body, his face, his messy hair. Once more the temptation to have him for breakfast is great but I have set my mind to it so pancakes for him it is.
I sneak out to the kitchen and I am glad it is empty. I open the pantry to find what I need and then I start making pancakes. Honoring Wood’s tradition, I will make more for everyone to enjoy. I am humming and smiling when I hear commotion behind me.
“Well, well, well,” I hear a woman’s voice.
I look over my shoulder and I see three rotters come in the kitchen. One opens the fridge and takes out a bottle of beer, the other at least goes for orange juice. But it’s the third one I am focused on the same way she is focused on me. Riley.
I look away and concentrate on making the last of the pancakes and get out of there. I don’t want to be near that woman. It still stings to think that Wood...
“If it isn’t the replacement girl,” Riley comes closer.
I bite down my jaw and I serve more pancakes on the plate I am preparing for Wood.
“Ha,” Riley looks at what I am doing. “You think they care for shit like that? They only care if we suck dick, go on all fours or take it up the ass. You don’t have to cook for them.”
That stupid woman thinks that I am like her, a rotter. I am not. I know that well. I am Wood’s woman, his Valkyrie and he is my man. At the thought, a smile blooms on my face.
“What the fuck are you smiling about, bitch?” Riley thinks I am sparing any irony on her. “You are nothing but a substitute.”
I look up to her and then trail my look all over her body. She has fake boobs and artificial lips, she is bleached blonde and in the morning light she looks so used, her heavy make-up smudged to make her look like a racoon, her hair ruffled by whomever took her the night before.
“Me?” She smiles wickedly. “No, bitch, you could never replace me,” she flaunts her hair. “But it seems that you are a good substitute for your sister.”
I frown. My sister?
“Oh, you didn’t know. Hey, girls, that stupid bitch here doesn’t know who her man was going to claim.”
I look at all of them and they stare back with a wicked grin. What does my sister have to do with anything? Who was Wood going to claim? He said he never had a Valkyrie. That I was the only one. My chest takes deep breaths as Riley leans to me, her eyes filled with spite and hatred down to her evil smile.
“Wood claimed Iris as soon as he got the patch. But that stupid bitch of your sister turned him down for that psycho,” Riley is in my face. “I guess it all worked out. Wood found you and you are now his plaything. I am wondering,” her eyes squint, “does he call you Iris when he fucks you?”
No, no, no. It’s a lie, it can’t be. He can’t... He couldn’t... Not my sister. But deep down I know. The way Rage acted around him, the way he was overly possessive with Iris whenever Wood was around, the innuendos.
I steady myself on the counter to keep from falling. Riley chuckles and takes one of the pancakes in a plate with a fork, quite pleased with herself.
“That’s why you don’t cook for them,” she sits on the counter. “All we are to them are sex dolls and nothing more.”
Sex dolls. And I am the best doll there is. Trained and broken in, thirsty for an inkling of affection, starving for love. And I damn sure look a lot like Iris. That’s the way he found me. Wood was the one that noticed that footage. Why? Because he is still obsessing over my little sister. It’s her he wants not me. I am a doll, a good doll. The perfect doll.
I leave the kitchen with shaking legs accompanied by the laughter and taunts by the rotters. I take it. I am no better than them. I am a Rider’s sex toy and I can easily be tossed to someone else.
With every step I take to Wood’s room, my bleeding heart turns to stone. If I am a doll, then I am an empty shell, no heart no feelings. I have lived like that before, focused only on survival and I can do it again.
I pause to keep my tears from falling before I open the door. He is not in the bed. I hear him move in the bathroom and my heart clenches. A wave of pain and washes over me. No! I order myself.
I go for my duffel bag and I open the drawers. First thing I put in is the documents Stig made for me. Then I toss a few clothes in there not caring at all what I take and what I leave behind. When I am done, I rush to the door.
“Tamie?” I hear his voice behind me.
I still. That voice. That voice I am going to miss. He said so many lies to me but with that voice of his that still holds me captive.
“Tamie?” He pulls closer.
I don’t move, I can’t move and I can’t stop the tears that run down my face. I should have known. I should have never trusted him. He was the last one, the one to finish me off, to kill my heart. He is worst that Daultrey and Freddie and all these men that came for me. They never pretended to care about me, they didn’t make me love them so deeply. His betrayal is the worst and I was a fool to let go and trust him.
“What’s wrong, Tamie? Where are you going?”
He is right behind me and puts both his hands on my shoulders. Instant disgust takes over me and I shake away from him.
“Get your hands off me!”
I turn to face him. He has a towel around his waist and he is still wet from his shower. He always has a shower in the morning and I loved looking at him emerge from the bathroom, beautiful like a dark god. Now I hate myself. And him. I hate him.
“Get the fuck away from me,” I push his arms that try to hold me.
“What happened?” He asks softly and a guilty look clouds his face. “Did I hurt you last night? We should have a safe word. I never stopped to think that you may want to-”
“Did you claim my sister?”
That does it. He takes one step back and looks at me with a shocked expression. Not shocked because it’s a lie. But because it’s the truth. I see it in his dark eyes.
“Did you?” I demand.
“Tamie, it was not like that. I-”
“But she chose, Rage,” I laugh bitterly. “Poor Wood, turned down.”
He scowls and he makes an effort to come to me, his face a mask of pain. It’s nothing compared to the pain I am feeling inside. He doesn’t want me for me, he never did. If I didn’t look like my sister so much, he would have never come to rescue me. What a devious plan, what a plot. To save me so he could have his Iris doll.
“No, Tamie, you have to listen to me,” he is begging now.
“Listen to you?” I push him away. “You used me! You lied to me! You never wanted me! You only wanted my sister and here I was, her almost spitting image. Did you close your eyes and think of her? Were you sorry I was a bit taller and fuller than her? Or you knew she would never accommodate your kink? Not like a professional whore would.”
“Tamie, please, please stop talking like that. I love you. You. I love you.”
Bastard! Liar! I raise my hand and I slap him across his face and I spit on him. I have never hated anyone like I hate him. All these men they broke my body but I kept my spirit intact, I was in control, I kept my freedom and my sanity, my mind on the goal of getting out of their filthy grasp.
But he? He is the worst. He made me believe I was worth something more than being a whore, a fuck hole. But he used me in the most disgusting way ever, making me love him utterly, promising that we would have a future together, a real life.
I open the door, not standing to be with him a second longer and I rush down the hall. I hear him behind me and I run out the bar that is empty.
“Tamie!” He grabs my hand.
“Let me go!”
“I can’t,” he begs once more. “Please, listen to me. Let me explain. Don’t go.”
“You promised,” I spit on his face. “You promised you’d never hurt me. And I trusted you. I trusted a man for the first time. And you lied to me. This is all your fault, Kyle,” I say his name laced with venom.
His arms slack and his jaw drops. I could have taken a shot at him and he wouldn’t look so hurt. For a fleeting second, my heart aches for him but I come to quickly. I go to the door, find my car and drive away, seeing him in my rearview mirror.