Home > Royally Targeted (Royal Sons MC #8)

Royally Targeted (Royal Sons MC #8)
Author: Elle Boon

 

Prologue

 


Tiana froze, her body aching in places she’d never hurt before. She heard several male voices, too close to where she lay as bits of memory came back to her. The sheet beneath her felt scratchy, or maybe it was her body that was more sensitive. Oh god, what had she done?

“I think our plaything is awake, Rico.”

Another man laughed as the bed jostled her.

“Are you playing possum, mi juguete?” Rico asked, brushing her hair back from her face as he ripped the sheet from her body.

“Please,” she whimpered.

“Ah, you did please us. If we weren’t out of time, we’d let you do so again. Don’t fret though. I’ve decided you were so good I’m going to keep you.”

She blinked, the horrors of what he’d done to her, what they’d done came to her as she looked around the room, noticing several men were lounging around naked. They all wore expressions of satisfaction, as if what they’d done was no big deal.

“I want to go home,” she whispered. Tiana needed to climb into the shower and wash away the feeling of being used. God, she couldn’t remember what had happened after she walked into the suite except feeling something sharp stabbing into the side of her neck. Her feet had moved toward Rico, and then...nothing.

Rico’s hot breath brought her back into the moment, and then she was crying out as his fingers clamped down on her jaw, forcing her to look up at him. “Open your eyes.”

Tiana was too scared to do anything except obey.

“You will go home and say nothing about what happened this weekend. Are we clear?” he growled close to her face.

Fear had her nodding. He said weekend, but she’d only just arrived. She’d told her sister she was spending the night with her friend, not the weekend. Surely Ayesha would’ve called the police and was searching for her even now.

“Do not worry, mi juguete. Your sister thinks you are off at cheer camp. Now get up and shower. We leave in thirty minutes and can’t have you returning home looking as though you’ve been fucked six ways to Sunday, although that’s close to the truth.” Rico got up from the bed.

The motion jarred her, making her wince in pain.

“Ah, I like that sound. Maybe we should have one more bit of fun before sending you back, hmm?”

“Leave her be, Gregor, we don’t have time, and if you hurt her anymore, her sister will notice. The doctor said she’ll need at least a week to recover.” Rico flicked a towel toward Tiana. “Go shower before they decide the doctor is wrong.”

She moved to the side of the bed, holding the towel in front of her, every step she took toward the bathroom was filled with fear and pain and shame. She’d been stupid.

 

 

Chapter One

 


Mick rolled over, cracking his neck, and wished it was that easy to relieve the memories that plagued him.

“Where are you going, baby? It’s still early, come back to bed.”

He looked over his shoulder at the woman lying in the bed. He should probably remember her name, but the truth is he couldn’t recall shit from the night before. He scraped a hand down his face, feeling more than a few days’ worth of beard abrading his palm.

“Sweets, I’d love nothing more than to do that, but I got shit to do, and that ain’t you. You’re welcome to kick it here until checkout at eleven.” He got up, uncaring of the fact he was totally naked. Hell, he was comfortable in his own skin. He’d grown up where it wasn’t uncommon, since the bastard who was lord of all, or so he pretended to be, used clothes or lack thereof, as a form of punishment. He slammed the memories of his past away, hating everything about where he’d come from. He’d run far and hard to get away from the bastard and his beliefs.

“Are you sure I can’t coax you back to bed?”

Mick knew what he’d see if he turned around. What the woman behind him didn’t understand was that he had already seen more sex being had by monsters by the time he’d been sixteen than she’d probably had in all of her twenty plus years. Shit, he’d been accused of fucking women who were pseudo mothers by his own bastard father, before he’d truly understood what it was to have sex. He’d mastered his body’s reactions, even when the fucking had been done right in front of him, he’d refrained from giving in to his baser urges. He’d been accused of screwing women he hadn’t, and then he’d been made to do so.

Tugging his jeans up his legs, he didn’t answer or look at the woman again. The disgusted huff let him know she wasn’t happy with him, which was good. He’d rather her be pissed off than try to seduce him, or whatever the fuck she was trying to do. An image of a girl who was too young, too innocent, and too off limits for him popped into his head. King would have his head on a pike and his dick removed from his body if he knew the thoughts that he’d harbored for his wife’s baby sister. For years, dammit, he’d wanted a girl he couldn’t, shouldn’t want.

After he had his T-shirt shrugged on, and his leather cut with the word PROSPECT in the bottom rocker, he shoved his feet into his black shitkickers. “You need anything before I leave, sweets?”

“Do you even know my name, Frog?” she asked.

He stared over at the woman, thinking back to the previous evening. She was sitting up with her back against the cheap headboard, the sheet lying across her lap, while the tits he’d done some dirty deeds to were easy to see from the light streaming in from the bathroom. She didn’t know his real name he was sure, but he wasn’t hurt by that fact. He didn’t like causing pain to women and made sure he chose ones who knew the way shit was before taking them to bed.

Mick made it a point to never lie since he’d been lied to his entire motherfucking life. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, he saw a hint of vulnerability, quickly wiped away with the hardness he recognized. “I could lie and say something that you and I both know ain’t the truth. You didn’t come up here with me thinking we were gonna be anything other than a good time, did you? Hell, you know me as Frog. What’s my real name, sweets?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for her to answer. Sure, she knew him as Frog, but did she know him? Fuck no. Silence stretched for another long second. Mick crossed the room, the chain connected to his belt loop and his wallet the only sound other than the air conditioner that kicked on.

Her breathing hitched, her shoulders tensed. He didn’t know if she thought he was gonna smack her or what. Fuck, he wasn’t a damn monster. “I had a good time, and I know you did if the scratches on my back and the number of condoms we went through were anything to go by. That’s what this was about. What your name and mine is, has no bearing on what went down between us. That’s all that’s gonna happen. Feel me?” He gripped the back of her hair in a loose grip and kissed her forehead.

“You’re not mad?”

Up close, he could see the smudged makeup under her eyes, and the reality that she was a lot younger than she probably acted. He hoped like hell she was at least old enough to drink, because he knew for a fact, they’d drank a hell of a lot of tequila the night before. “Nah, sweets, I ain’t mad in the least. Go ahead and sleep a few more hours. I’ll tell the front desk we want a late checkout if you’d like?”

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