Chapter 2: Fight Me, Daddy: Chapter 2

Logan placed his hand over her mouth. “You need to knock that shit off, or I’ll shut your mouth up another way.”

He was almost disappointed when she complied. He would have liked to have an easy excuse to press his cock past those pink, lip-glossed lips of hers. From the stubborn glint in her eyes, Logan was sure she would give him another reason soon.

After all, she had information he needed, and he was prepared to get it…by any means necessary.

“Good girl,” he said as he removed his hand. “Now, are you going to continue to be a nice, obedient little girl for me and tell me everything I want to know?”

She looked downward, hiding her soft gray eyes from him, before nodding yes.

“That’s strike one.” He warned.

Startled eyes rose again as her sweet mouth opened on a gasp.

“Let’s try this again. Perhaps I wasn’t being direct enough. Where the fuck is Chad?”

Her head jerked when he said the name. From his position, pressed along her body, he could feel her short, rapid breaths as her chest rose and fell.

“I…I…don’t know anyone named Chad.” Her voice was low and hoarse.

“That’s strike two.”

She paused as her eyes once again flicked downward. Licking her lips, she repeated her previous lie. “Please. I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know anyone named Chad.”

“And that’s three.”

Logan leaned back and grabbed her thin t-shirt in both hands. Wrenching the garment upwards, he forced her arms up high. Keeping the damp, pink fabric around her wrists, he ruthlessly twisted it tight, effectively securing them.

“No! No! Stop!” she screamed as she twisted her hips and helplessly pulled against his impromptu bind about her wrists.

Fisting the fabric between her bound wrists, Logan shifted his weight. Raising his knee, he pressed it high between her legs. The moment his knee made contact with her jean-clad cunt, she stilled, like a rabbit caught in a predator’s snare.

With his free hand, Logan reached inside his black biker boot to withdraw the bowie knife he always kept handy.

“Oh god! Please don’t kill me,” she pleaded.

“Shhhh…” he soothed.

He pressed the blade against her soft skin, slipping it under the left bra strap. Carefully twisting the blade, the knife easily cut through the thin elastic band.

His captive whimpered but stayed still.

Logan sucked air sharply through his clenched teeth. Jesus, he liked the sound of her frightened mews as her body nervously shifted against his own. He could just imagine the vibrations of that same whimper against his cock as he forced it deep down her throat. Or how she would sound pleading with him to stop as he strapped that plump, curved ass of hers with his belt. She was a pretty little package. Large gray eyes were framed with thick black lashes. High cheekbones were tinted a bright pink. Her dark brown hair was the color of leather, just long enough for a man to grab and wrap around his fist.

Logan flicked his wrist and quickly cut the other strap on her bra.

The thin lace material immediately sagged under the soft weight of her breasts, clinging only to the tips, denying him a look at her nipples. Would they be pink like her lips or darker, he wondered?

He placed the end of the knife between her breasts, pressing the metal tip into her skin, although careful not to draw blood. Slowly, he sliced through the cartoon kitten in the center. The elastic band gave with a snap. The lace cups fell away, exposing her generous curves to his gaze.

She turned her head towards the wall, squeezing her eyes shut as tiny white teeth bit down on her plump lower lip.

Momentarily releasing his hold on the t-shirt that secured her wrists, Logan pierced the wet fabric with his knife, driving the blade deeply into the wall. Once again, she was immobile. Bound. Vulnerable.

Her skin felt cool to his touch as he placed both hands on her breasts, cupping each underside curve.

Her head swung violently back. Her beautiful eyes narrowed in a defiant glare. He watched as she tested the binds on her wrists. The wet, twisted t-shirt held tight. He could feel the muscles of her right thigh tense. Sensing her next move, he swiftly placed his knee back between her legs.

“Can’t have you kneeing the jewels, babygirl. I would be no good to you later,” he quipped. “Let’s try this again.” Logan lightly pinched her left nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “Where is Chad?”

Her voice faltered as she murmured. “I don’t know where he is.”

“Progress. You at least admit you know him. The problem, baby,” Logan leaned in close as he whispered against her open lips, “is I can tell you’re still lying to me.” He gave her pert nipple a quick twist.

Chloe cried out, though he figured it was more from surprise than pain as he knew he wasn’t twisting that hard.

“People have all sorts of tells. A lowered gaze, a long pause before responding.” Logan caressed the pulse point at the base of her throat with the side of his thumb. “Rapid breath.”

The delicate skin of her throat fluttered under the slight pressure of his thumb. Her breath quick and short.

“I have already given you more than three strikes. Trust me. You don’t want to know what happens if you lie to me one more time.”

Logan ran the back of his knuckles down the slope of her breast. They were just to his taste. More than a handful but not too big. He liked when they were big enough to bounce when he had a woman on top riding his cock but were still high and perky. He rolled her nipple between his fingers. A subtle threat of more pain.

“That piece of shit you call an ex-boyfriend was headed here, Chloe. Now, if you are hiding him…”

“He can rot in hell. I’m not hiding that bastard.” Chloe ground out her response through clenched teeth.

“But you are still lying to me. Now, you either tell me where he is…or things are going to get very pleasurable for me…but rough for you.”

Another threat. This one not the least bit subtle.

The little minx stubbornly turned her head away. Her pink lips pressed into a straight line.

Logan’s brow lowered as he ran the tip of his tongue over the sharp edge of his teeth, the slight scrape of pain keeping him grounded. She may not be innocent in this mess, but he still needed to be careful. She had information he needed. Information he would do anything to learn. Anything.

His hand lowered to his jeans.

Pulling his thick leather belt through the clasp of the heavy belt buckle, Logan’s eyes pierced his unwilling captive’s. “It’s time you learned what happens to little girls who lie.”