Claimed by the Playboy MC President

Empty distraction

Thea’s POV

My patience snapped almost immediately.

God, the audacity!!!

This woman was literally screaming in my face over a creep who had assaulted me.

Rage rushed into my blood, hot and fast.

Working in Sam's garage had taught me a lot about how things worked. It taught me that no matter how big or loud something is, you just have to know exactly where to apply pressure.

It was all about leverage.

I didn't waste time.

I reached out and snatched a water glass off the high-top table right next to us.

Before the blonde could even draw a breath to scream again, I swung my arm in a tight, fast arc and smashed the glass against the side of her head.

The glass connected with her head, splashing ice water everywhere.

She let out a piercing shriek, dropping her hands from my hair to clutch at her own perfectly styled head.

While she was entirely off-balance, I drove the toe of my work boot straight into the back of her right knee.

Her knee buckled instantly under the force.

With a loud, breathless gasp, she crashed down onto the sticky floor, forced to kneel directly at my feet.

Before she could even attempt to recover, I grabbed her right wrist.

I pulled it sharply and twisted her arm up high behind her back, locking her shoulder at a painful angle.

She let out a cry, her entire body freezing up to keep her shoulder from popping out of its place.

The creep who had grabbed me moments before just stood there, his mouth hung open in shock.

He clearly hadn't expected the "little bird" to fight back.

I leaned down, pulling the blonde backward slightly so I could speak right next to her ear.

"This disgusting man…" I whispered. "is a perfect match for a woman like you." I shoved her forward, letting go of her arm.

She sprawled onto the floor, scrambling onto all fours as she looked up at me with wide, terrified, teary eyes.

I took a deep breath, wiping a drop of dark soda from the bridge of my nose.

Looking down, I noticed the ruined, sticky black fabric clinging to my chest.

It was Clara's favorite crop top.

This was going to require some professional dry cleaning.

And after the past twenty-four hours I had had, I was absolutely not paying for it.

I crossed my arms, staring down at the woman still trembling on the floor.

The music was still roaring but a small circle of onlookers had started to form around us, enjoying the drama.

"This shirt isn't mine and it needs to be dry-cleaned." I stated cleanly as I held out my hand. "You owe me forty bucks for the damage. Cash. Right now."

>>Miles’ POV<<

The bass from the party downstairs did nothing to shake the dark mood settling over me.

I swirled the amber whiskey in my glass, staring blankly at the wall.

The door swung open and Reed strolled in.

As the President of Open Road, he walked like he owned the place, even though I held the deed.

He took one look at me and smirked. "Let me guess.” Reed said, leaning against the doorframe. "Charles gave you another lecture about the family business and your 'hooligan' lifestyle?"

I took a slow sip of the burning liquid and stayed silent, not giving him the satisfaction of an answer.

My father’s constant disapproval was an exhaustion I didn't want to talk about.

"Come on, man…" Reed said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "You are bringing down the victory vibe. Let's go downstairs. I will find you a couple of girls to keep you company. Take your mind off the old man."

I let out a harsh, bitter laugh and brushed his hand away. "Do you think everyone is like you, unable to go a day without women?" I snapped, waving my glass toward the door. "Get out of here and find your own girls, Reed. Leave me alone."

Reed held his hands up in mock surrender. "Suit yourself, boss.” He laughed, backing out and shutting the door behind him.

The quiet lasted exactly two minutes.

Before I could even pour another drink, a pair of soft hands slid over my shoulders.

The sweet scent of expensive perfume hit my nose as a warm, nearly naked body pressed against my back.

Painted fingers traced lightly down my chest, slipping under the unbuttoned collar of my shirt.

"Miles." A breathless, seductive voice purred against my ear. "Your abs are amazing."

Ivy.

I closed my eyes as irritation crawled inside my body.

I wasn't in the mood. I was tired of the empty connections, tired of women who only looked at my wallet, my status or my body.

But I turned around anyway, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her against me.

I caught her chin between my fingers, tilting her face up to meet my gaze. "Ivy.” I murmured, pasting on the playboy smirk that everyone expected from me. "This isn't the first time you have touched them. Did you just realize it today?"

She giggled, and leaned in to kiss me.

I pushed her back onto the battered leather sofa in the corner of the office, letting the dim red light wash over us.

I started f*****g her from behind. It was fast and heated but it felt entirely empty. I felt absolutely nothing.

Suddenly, the brass doorknob turned.

The door swung open, bringing a life of light into the dark room.

I snapped my head up.

Standing in the doorway was a girl.

She was striking. Even in the brief second the light hit her, I saw a cascade of messy, wavy hair and wide, incredibly beautiful eyes.

She stared at us, completely frozen as a look of pure shock painted across her delicate face.

"Oh, my God…" She gasped. Her cheeks flushed a deep, violent red. "I am so sorry!"

Before I could even process who she was or tell her to lock the damn door, she threw herself backward and slammed the door shut, fleeing like a frightened rabbit.

The office was pulled back into the dim red gloom.

"Miles?" Ivy whined, squirming against me. "Ignore her. Come back here."

I stared at the closed door. My breathing was heavy. But the interruption had shattered whatever fake desire I had managed to compile.

The image of those wide, startled eyes lingered in the dark, burning brighter than anything else in the room.

There was an innocence to her. And it was the exact opposite of the suffocating reality I was currently in.

I looked down at Ivy and pure disinterest hit me like a wall of ice.

"Get up." I muttered, pushing myself off of her and straightening my shirt.

"What? Miles, wait…"

“I said get up, Ivy." I walked over to my desk and grabbed my glass of whiskey, my eyes still locked on the wooden door.

I didn't know who that girl was, but suddenly, the empty distraction on my couch was the last thing I wanted.