Ruin Me, Biker Alphas

I Watch Her Walk Away

~Ronan~

I watch her walk away, and my hands are f*****g shaking. I keep them under the table so Evander can’t see, but my knuckles are white as I grip my own thighs.

Her ass is bouncing with every step she takes in those tiny denim shorts. Every time she moves, the fabric rides up, showing the soft, pale gold skin of her legs. I want to stand up, grab her by the waist, and bend her right over the nearest table. I want to rip those shorts off her and show her exactly what a real Alpha is. I want to hear her scream my name while I’m balls deep in her, marking her so everyone in this shithole knows she belongs to me.

But I can’t.

She’s too young. She’s the daughter of a man I called a brother, a man who died because a mess I got myself in. I’ve spent years paying for her schools, her clothes, her quiet little life, all to keep her away from the sin I live in every day. There’s a secret buried in that pampered life of hers, a truth that keeps her untouchable. If I touch her, I break everything.

"Valerie Rowe," Evander says, his voice cutting through my head like a knife.

I snap my head toward him. I hadn't even realized I was leaning forward, my eyes glued to the corner of the bar room, where she’s attending to some customers.

Evander is leaning back, watching me with that wicked, knowing look on his face. He points a finger toward the bar. "What the f**k were you thinking, Ronan? Letting her work here? Bringing her into the club?"

"Stay the f**k away from her, Evander," I snap. My voice is a low growl that makes the glass on the table rattle. "I brought her here because she wouldn't stop poking her nose into the club. Better she’s where I can see her."

"See her?" Evander chuckles. It’s a dry, nasty sound. He leans in, his amber eyes bright with mockery. "Is that what you’re doing? Because your senses were glued to her ass the second she walked in. You’re tracking those curves like a starving dog. You wish you were balls deep in her right now, don't you? You want to feel that tight little cunt gripping your cock."

"She’s off-limits," I spit out. My d**k is a hard, throbbing rod against my jeans, and the lie makes me want to punch something.

"She isn't off-limits to me," Evander says. He says it so calmly it makes my blood boil. He picks up his whiskey, looking over the rim of the glass with a smirk. "I don't owe her father a thing. And if she keeps walking around looking like that... I might just take what she’s offering."

I growl, a deep, animal sound that comes from the bottom of my chest. "Focus on your own pack, Creed. You’ve been on a club run for weeks. Why don't you go check on your people? Find a way to deal with the families of the rogue victims instead of lusting after a girl who’s the same age as your daughter."

Evander goes quiet. The smirk vanishes. He looks serious all at once, his amber eyes turning cold. He sets his glass down with a heavy thud.

"The families are being taken care of," he says, his voice flat. He shifts, leaning over the table to lower his voice. "But the run was a mess, Ronan. Every lead we had on the rogues went dead. They’re moving fast, and they aren't leaving a scent behind. It’s like they know exactly where we’re going to be."

I exhale, trying to force the image of Valerie out of my head. I need to be a President right now, not a man with a hard-on. "Calm down. You’re not in this alone. Whatever is hitting your pack is going to hit mine soon enough. We’ll catch the rogues, Evander. We’ll find them and we’ll kill them. I promise you that."

Evander nods, but he doesn't look happy. We both sit there for a minute, drinking in silence. But I can't help it. My eyes keep drifting back to the floor.

I see her. She’s at the bar, talking to the bartender. She looks so f*****g good it hurts to look at her. I can see the way her t**s are pushed up, the way she’s leaning against the counter. And then I notice Evander’s eyes are on her too. He’s watching her with the same hunger I feel, his jaw tight.

I really want to kill the bartender guy so bad. I want to rip off his face, the way he keeps laughing with her.

I can’t sit here anymore. If I stay here, I’m going to do something I can't take back.

"Sergeant!" I bark.

A biker steps into the VIP room immediately. "Yeah, boss?"

"Go find Gunnar. Tell him to send an omega to my office in ten minutes," I command. My voice is harsh. I don't care who hears. "One of the professionals. Tell her to be ready."

The sergeant nods and leaves.

Evander lets out a short, mocking laugh. He smirks at me, but he doesn't say a word. He knows exactly what I’m doing. He knows I’m trying to f**k the thought of Valerie out of my system.

I don't say anything back. I just snort, stand up, and push past the curtain. I head straight for the back door, the one that leads to the private stairs. I don't look at Valerie. I don't even look in her direction. I keep my head down and my eyes on the floor, my boots heavy as I walk.

I climb the stairs, one after the other. My head is a mess. All I can see is blue eyes and pale gold skin. I see the way she looked at me in the storeroom, the way she looked at Evander. She might be a little girl, but her body screams something else entirely. She’s a woman built for a man to take, and it’s killing me that I can’t be the one.

I reach the top of the stairs and throw open the office door.

The room is dark. I don't turn on the light. I don't need it.

There’s a woman already there. She’s one of the club whores, someone I’ve used before. She’s completely naked, bent over my desk just the way I like it. Her legs are spread, her ass pushed back toward me, waiting.

I don't look at her face. I don't care what she looks like. I don't want to know her name. I won't be seeing her anyway.

I walk up behind her, my hands going straight for my belt. I look down at her back, at her skin in the shadows, but the only image in my head is Valerie.

I see Valerie’s blue eyes. I see Valerie’s curves. I see her bent over this desk, crying out my name.

I pull the woman's hair back, forcing her head down, my c**k in my hand, getting harder and harder and I push into her. I don’t bother to be nice or slow. I go in rough, fast, and mean. I’m trying to bury the hunger, trying to erase the girl downstairs with every thrust. But it’s no use.

Every time I close my eyes, it’s her.

It’s only her.