The Biker's Priestess

CHAPTER 3: GODFORSAKEN TOWN

INKA

The booth was tucked deep in the shadows at the back of the bar, and he didn’t sit across from me like a normal person. He instead slid in right beside me, his body crowding me against the wall with one strong arm draped along the back of the seat.

A waitress appeared instantly with two glasses of amber liquid, set them down, and vanished just as fast. Shadow didn’t even have to speak.

“Drink,” he ordered, sliding one glass toward me and I stared at it like it might bite me. “I don’t drink.”

His low chuckle sent a shiver down my spine. “Today you do.” He picked up his own glass, took a slow sip, then leaned in until his lips were inches from mine. “One drink won’t kill you, little runaway.”

My hand shook as I lifted the glass, the whiskey burning like fire down my throat before the warmth followed, so intense I gasped as it spread through my chest and lower, loosening something dangerous inside me.

I'd never drunk whiskey before or any kind of strong spirit for that matter. I was a church girl through and through. Born and raised in the church.

Shadow watched me closely, his fingers idly tracing circles on my shoulder. “So tell me… why’d you come into my bar today looking like you were about to die on the spot?”

Did he miss the part where I locked myself out? I reminded him, but apparently locking myself out wasn't enough to bring me to his bar. I wanted to argue, but it was true. I would have waited outside all day and night if it weren't for the interview.

I swallowed hard, gripping the glass tighter. “I have somewhere I need to be. So I needed to change.“

His eyes narrowed, searching my face. “And where might that be? What's so important that you’d walk into a place like this, shaking like a leaf?”

I hesitated, but the whiskey and his intense stare made it difficult to lie. “I have a job interview in a couple of hours. My first real one since I got here. So I needed to get home to prepare… iron my clothes, organize my notes, try to look… normal.”

Something possessive flickered across his face, and he hummed after a moment, clearly filing that information away.

“Normal,” he repeated, almost mockingly. “You’re too f*****g beautiful to ever blend in, Inka.”

My heart stumbled, and his hand slid down my arm, then boldly onto my thigh, fingers squeezing the soft flesh through my dress. My breath hitched.

“You’re not like the other women who come through here,” he continued, his voice dropping lower. “They come looking for trouble. You… you look like trouble found you.”

His fingers crept higher under the hem of my dress, brushing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. I gasped softly, my legs pressing together instinctively, but that only trapped his hand there, right where I was aching and wet.

“Shadow…” I breathed, unsure if I was begging him to stop or keep going.

“Kayde,” he corrected, his breath hot against my neck. “When my mouth is on your cunt, I want to hear you screaming, Kayde.”

A shuddering breath ripped through my chest, and I was mortified by how my body reacted to his filthy words. He noticed and a dark, satisfied smirk curved his lips as his fingers teased higher, barely brushing against my panties.

“You’re soaked,” he growled. “Just like I knew you’d be.”

I whimpered, my head falling back against the booth as his fingers stroked me through the thin fabric, slow and teasing. If there was a moment to act, to find whatever courage I had inside and get this man's hand away from me, this was it.

But instead, the bar noise faded into a distant hum, leaving only him, his scent, his heat and overwhelming presence.

“Please…” I didn’t even know what I was pleading for anymore.

He leaned in and bit my earlobe gently. “I could f**k you right here. Bend you over this table and claim this sweet p***y in front of everyone so they all know who you belong to now.”

My core clenched with another shudder at the image. But then he pulled his hand away. I blinked, disoriented, as he sat back, eyes still on me with the same intensity.

“You’re not ready for that yet,” he said, almost gently. “But you will be.”

Reaching into his cut, he pulled out a black business card, sliding it across the table toward me. It had his name, Kayde Skugge and the Devil's Wraith MC logo.

“I’m offering you a job,” he said, his voice casual but still commanding. “My private escort. You’d live with me. Travel with me and be available whenever I want you... day or night. I’ll pay you more than you could make in a year at whatever dead-end interview you’ve got lined up. And you’ll be protected and taken care of.”

The words hit me like a slap.

Private escort?

The filthy implication sank in immediately. He wasn’t offering me a waitress job or a cleaning position. He wanted me as his personal w***e. His kept woman—a warm body for him to use whenever the mood struck.

Reality crashed over me like ice water.

What the hell was I doing?

This town wasn't what I thought, and I had just let a ruthless biker finger me in a bar booth like some desperate slut.

I snatched the card and slammed it back on the table, my cheeks burning with humiliation and anger.

“No!” I said sharply, finally finding my spine. “I’m not a w***e. And I certainly won't be yours.”

Pushing against his chest, I tried to slide out of the booth, and for a second, he didn’t move. Then he let me go, but the dark, amused look in his eyes told me this wasn’t over, not even close.

“You will be,” he said softly as I stood on shaky legs. “Sooner than you think, Inka.”

I turned and fled toward the exit, heart pounding, thighs still slick with evidence of my shameful arousal, Shadow’s low, confident laughter following me out the door. I needed to get out of this godforsaken town.