Property of Drex #1 (Death Chasers MC, #1)

by C.M. Owens

The only boy to ever have had me in his bed is being forced to turn me over to his twisted father to do things that will destroy me.

He turns to let me see her, and my blood pumps faster the second my eyes find the innocent looking thing in front of me. Christ, she looks too damn sweet.

“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll beg for more.”

I want to punch him.

“I’m Drex Caine, baby. I’ll touch whoever I want, whenever I want.”

I want to punch him more. A lot, actually.

If I survive this, I’m going to need a lot of therapy.

He doesn’t want anyone talking to me? Great. I’ve apparently sold myself and turned into a sex-slave prisoner. I’m starting to realize there’s no amount of therapy in the world that will be able to save me after this is over.

There’s no sane reason for me to feel jealous right now. But I can’t help it. Maybe I have Stockholm’s Syndrome.

Axle is half the bulk of Jessie; however, he’s ten times as lethal. But Axle never fights unless he’s passed the point of pissed off or someone has touched him. What the hell?

“Let’s try this again,” Axle growls. “Admit you’re a slimy, raping motherfucker, and I might not continue to kick your ass like it’s my sole purpose in life.”

The second she hears my voice, her head pops up, and those watery green eyes meet mine with so much relief. A small piece of something inside my chest breaks free, and an ache instantly forms. Rarely ever does someone look relieved to see me, and those protective instincts are suddenly on high alert.

“You’ll sleep in my bed from now on,” I tell her softly, and she burrows closer against me, hugging me as though she has all the gratitude in the world for me.

“The answer is no, because he never fucking owned you the way I do.”

I don’t argue that first part, because I’m twisted and all,

Yes, yes, you are twisted, blah, blah, blah.....you can quit saying it.