Claimed By The Biker King

Chapter 7

Rhea

I should have left. The thought had repeated itself in my head at least ten times since Ryan dragged me through the doors of the expensive boutique.

What exactly did he think I was? A beggar?

Someone he could throw money at because he felt sorry for her? The nerve of that man.

I walked a few steps behind him, my irritation growing with every second.

The moment we got to the reception , a woman behind the counter immediately brightened.

"Welcome Mr. King."

Mr. King? Was that his nickname?

I watched as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and flashed him a smile that probably worked on ninety percent of the male population.

Ryan barely reacted. Meanwhile, I rolled my eyes. Seriously. I didn't understand the fascination.

Yes, he was attractive. Annoyingly attractive.

But the woman acted like the man personally invented oxygen.

The saleswoman's smile widened. "We have a new collection of leather jackets. I think you'll love them."

"I'm not here for myself," Ryan replied.

The woman blinked confused. "I'm here for women's clothes."

And that was when she noticed me standing there. And her smile disappeared.

I know that look. The one women gave when they assumed another woman had somehow caught the attention of a man they wanted.

The fake smile returned a second later. I nearly scoffed out loud.

"Of course, Sir. Please follow me."

Ryan glanced over his shoulder. I rolled my eyes so hard they almost hurt.

For a brief second, I considered turning around and leaving again. Then I remembered he still owed me a ride.

So unfortunately, I followed. And we followed the woman.

As we walked, I leaned slightly toward Ryan. "You should've saved your money for the club instead of spending it on me."

His gaze remained forward. "If you're going to coach my riders, you need to be presentable."

I stopped walking and my eyes slowly lowered to my outfit.

A tank top. Dark ripped jeans. Combat boots.

There was absolutely nothing wrong with it. Heat immediately climbed into my chest.

I looked back up at him. "How dare—"

The words died in my throat when a rack of beautiful outfit on display caught my attention.

My irritation faltered. Just a little.

Ryan noticed immediately. The smug bastard. And suddenly I hated that he looked entirely too pleased with himself.

The saleswoman seemed to notice Ryan's attention lingering on the display. A hopeful smile immediately returned to her face.

"What kind of outfit would you like, sir?"

Ryan's hand came up to his jaw as his gaze shifted toward me.

Like he was assessing a problem that needed solving.

I narrowed my eyes immediately. Don't you dare.

Then he looked back at the woman. "Bring the latest collections. Dresses. Casual wear. Formal wear." He paused. "And plenty of biker-themed outfits for women."

My jaw nearly hit the floor. I marched forward in anger.

"Are you crazy? Why do we need a lot?"

I didn't care that the saleswoman was standing right there. Ryan, however, looked completely unaffected.

"Try keeping your mouth shut for a minute."

I stared at him. My irritation instantly doubled. Then tripled.

A disbelieving chuckle escaped me. I dragged a hand through my hair in frustration.

The audacity. The absolute audacity.

Meanwhile, Ryan turned his attention back to the saleswoman. Who was still standing there awkwardly.

"Make it snappy, I don't have forever." He said glancing at his wristwatch.

The woman nodded immediately. "Right away, sir."

Then she shot me a look. If eye-rolling was an Olympic sport, she would've won gold.

I rolled mine right back. The moment she disappeared around the corner, I turned toward Ryan.

"I don't know if anyone has ever told you this, but you're annoying."

"That's unfortunate."

Was that seriously his response?

"What makes you think you can buy me clothes? Did I look like a poor woman to you?"

One brow lifted.

"No."

"Then why are we here?"

His gaze moved over my outfit again. I immediately regretted asking.

"Because, you dress like you're about to punch someone at any given moment."

My mouth fell open. "Excuse me? What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"I just gave the reason."

So help me God if I don't break this man's head before we leave the building. Because my mind was telling me to do just that.

"You know..." he continued cutting through my violent thoughts.

"We've known each other barely up to three days ago."

I frowned folding my arms across my chest. "So?"

"So far you've broken a car window, challenged people to races, argued with almost everyone you've met, and nearly started a fight with one of my riders."

I opened my mouth. Then closed it. "I don't like you," I confessed.

"I never said you should," we held each other gaze. Me fuming in anger while Ryan had a satisfied smirk on his face.

Right then, the saleswoman returned with what looked like half the boutique balanced in her arms.

She carefully placed the stack of clothes on an expensive cream-colored couch.

"Here are the selections, sir."

Ryan nodded. Then the infuriating man sat down.

One arm stretched across the back of the couch, while one legs was resting on the other like some king inspecting his kingdom.

I hated how good he looked. So naturally, I looked away.

The saleswoman immediately began adjusting her dress and smoothing her hair. Probably waiting for his reaction.

His attention never lingered on her.

"We'll call you if we need anything."

The disappointment on her face was almost funny. Some women and the audacity of throwing themselves on a man. Something I can never do. Shamelessly drool over a man.

"Of course, Sir."

"You can start trying them." Ryan said to me.

"I don't have to try them. "If they're my size, they'll fit."

His eyebrow lifted.

I pointed at the mountain of clothing. "And I'm not taking more than two outfits."

Ryan leaned back further into the couch. Then simply stared at me.

The look made me uncomfortable. It was intimidating.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I snapped lifting my head up.

His expression didn't change.

"Rhea, Go and try the clothes."

My irritation immediately returned. "I don't—"

"I don't have forever to keep going back and forth with you."

There it was. That commanding tone.

The one I hated. The one used by men who thought the entire world should move when they spoke.

I crossed my arms over my chest. A smile slowly spread across my face.

The dangerous kind.

"Oh? And what exactly are you going to do if I don't?"

Ryan didn't look impressed. For a split second, something flashed across his face.

Then he stood taking some of the dresses with him. Before I could process what was happening, he'd was in front of me grabbing my wrist and pulling me with him.

"What are you doing? Let go of me!"

Ryan kicked the door of the changing room with his foot.

The next thing I knew, I was inside. The dresses landed in my arms and then door slammed shut directly in my face.

I blinked and stared at the closed door.

The nerve. The absolute nerve.

"Ryan!" I yelled out trying to open the door but it won't open. Which meant he had locked it from outside.

"Five minutes!" He responded. "That's what I'm giving you."

My jaw dropped. I looked around the fitting room. Then looked at the dresses. Then looked at the door again.

Oh.

He wanted to play this game? Fine. Let's play.

I did absolutely nothing. One minute passed. Then two. Then three.

I was enjoying myself.

A lot. A knock sounded.

"Rhea."

I ignored him. Another knock.

"Rhea."

At this point, I was practically glowing with satisfaction. Then I decided to reward myself by trying on one dress.

Few seconds later, I was standing in front of the mirror wearing a fitted black dress.

And refusing to leave.Because if Ryan thought he could order me around—

I heard the doorknob turned. My eyes widened. What the hell! I'm not done playing his game.

I reached for the handle. "Oh, s**t—"

Ryan pushed it open. Our bodies collided. The force knocked me backward. A strong hand instantly landed on my waist. Another braced against the wall behind me. Preventing me from falling.

My breath caught. Ryan's chest was inches from mine. Close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him. Close enough to see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw.

His grip on my waist tightened briefly before stilling.

My pulse betrayed me first. One loud beat.

Ryan's gaze dropped for the briefest second. To my lips. Down to my dress. Before slowly lifting it again. I unknowingly bite my bottom lip. Just enough to make me suddenly aware of every inch separating us.

Or rather how little space there actually was.

And somehow that realization annoyed me more than anything else. Because the last thing I wanted was to notice how unfairly attractive Ryan was from this close.