Claimed by the Playboy MC President

Open Road MC

Thea’s POV

The heavy bass of rock music vibrated through my ribs before we even crossed the threshold of the Open Road MC clubhouse.

When Clara pushed open the double doors, the smell of heat, sweat and cheap beer reached me instantly.

The place was absolutely crowded.

Bodies were crammed together under dim, flashing lights.

It was a completely different world from the quiet, grease-stained peace of Sam's garage.

"I see Mark!" Clara shouted over the roaring music, grabbing my arm and pulling me a few steps inside. She pointed toward a group of tattooed guys near a pool table. "I am going to go say hi! Go grab a seat at the bar. I will be right back!"

"Wait, Clara—"

But she was already gone, deep in the crowd of dancing bodies.

I let out a sigh, pulling down the hem of the tight black crop top Clara had forced me to borrow.

Then I wove my way through crowd, keeping my head down until I reached the long wooden bar at the back of the room.

I slid onto an empty stool.

The bartender, a burly guy with a thick gray beard and an eagle tattoo on his neck, wiped down the counter and raised an eyebrow at me.

"What can I get ya, sweetheart?" He yelled over the music. "First drink's on the house for the ladies tonight."

"Just a lemonade, please." I replied.

He paused, the rag stopping mid-wipe. He blinked at me, clearly thinking he had misheard. "A what? You want vodka in that?"

“No, just plain lemonade. Lots of ice if you have it.” I said, giving him a polite smile.

The bartender let out a booming laugh, shaking his head. "First time for everything, I guess."

A minute later, he slid a tall glass of lemonade across the bar.

I took a sip and let out a deep breath.

With Clara nowhere in sight, I leaned back against the counter and simply watched the chaos in front of me.

It was a wild scene.

Everywhere I looked, people were lost in the music and each other. A few feet away, a couple was dancing so closely there was zero space left between them. In the corner booth, a girl had her legs wrapped around a guy's waist, making out with him so passionately I felt like I shouldn't be watching.

A little further down the bar, a man had his hands boldly slipping under his girlfriend's shirt, entirely unbothered by the hundreds of people around them.

I chewed on my bottom lip, suddenly feeling incredibly bored and entirely out of place.

"Two shots of your best tequila, man."

A voice directly beside my ear made me jump.

I turned my head to find a guy leaning against the bar, invading my personal space. He had slicked-back dark hair and a smug smile.

The bartender poured the two shots and walked away.

The guy pushed one of the small glasses toward my lemonade.

"You look a little lost, gorgeous." He purred, leaning in closer. His eyes shamelessly dragged down my body. "And way too sober. Drink up. Let's loosen you up a bit and have some real fun."

I stared at the shot glass, then slowly moved my gaze up to his confident, smirking face. He really thought he was doing me a favor.

"I didn't ask for a drink." I said coldly.

His smile faltered for a second but he quickly recovered, leaning even closer. "Come on, don't be a tease. I just bought it for…"

"And I didn't ask you to do that, either.” I cut him off sharply.

I didn't wait for him to respond. I grabbed my lemonade, slid off the barstool and turned my back on him.

I just needed to find a quiet space. The loud music was starting to give me a headache.

I pushed my way toward a dark hallway near the back, hoping to find a restroom or at least an empty corner where I could catch my breath.

I turned a brass knob on a partially closed door and pushed it open.

"Oh, my God." I gasped, instantly freezing in my tracks.

The room was dimly lit by a single red bulb, revealing a battered leather sofa.

But, it was not what made me freeze.

On the cushions, a woman was on her back with her legs splayed wide open, knees bent and pulled back toward her shoulders. Her p***y was stretched tight around a man’s veiny c**k as he pounded into her.

Her full t**s bounced wildly with each slam. She was moaning like a w***e, her face flushed with raw pleasure, until she suddenly let out a sharp, startled yelp as her eyes flew open.

The man’s head snapped up, his c**k still buried deep inside her clenching cunt. He spotted me and immediately glared at me.

"I am so sorry!" I apologized and practically threw myself backward into the hallway, slamming the door shut.

My face was burning hot.

I stood there for a second, pressing my cool glass of lemonade against my burning cheek.

God, it was hell. I was done with this party.

I turned back toward the main room, rising on my tiptoes to scan the sea of heads for Clara so we could finally leave.

It didn't take long to spot her.

Over in a shadowed corner booth, Clara was sitting in the lap of a burly, bearded man. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, kissing him deeply.

I sighed, shaking my head. I hated to interrupt but I couldn't stay in this madhouse for another minute.

I began weaving my way through the crowd toward them. I was only a few feet away when a rough hand suddenly clamped down on my bicep.

The grip was painfully tight. I let out a sharp gasp and the lemonade fell over the rim of my glass.

"Let me go." I said, frowning deeply as I tried to yank my arm away.

Instead of letting go, the man yanked me backward.

I stumbled, crashing against a hard chest.

He was huge, his leather cut brushing roughly against my bare shoulder.

Before I could process what was happening, he grabbed my free hand and lifted my wrist right up to his nose.

He inhaled deeply with a disgusting, satisfied smirk spreading across his face. "Oh, yeah." He murmured. "You smell just like a virgin. I can always tell."

A wave of pure disgust washed over me. My stomach violently churned.

"Get off of me, you creep!" I snapped, twisting my body and thrashing against his iron grip.

"Come on, little bird.” he chuckled darkly, pulling me tighter against him. "Don't fight it."

"I said let me…"

Before I could even finish my sentence, a blinding pain shot through my scalp.

Someone grabbed a fistful of my hair from behind and yanked my head back viciously.

I cried out. The glass slipped from my fingers and shattered on the sticky floor.

Splash!!

A cold, sticky liquid of dark soda was thrown directly into my face, soaking the front of Clara’s borrowed crop top.

"Keep your filthy hands off my boyfriend!" A shrill voice screeched.

Through the stinging soda dripping into my eyes, I blinked wildly and saw a woman trembling with rage.

"You little tramp!" She screamed over the music, pointing a finger right between my eyes. "I saw you trying to throw yourself at him!"