And that name, Ice Princess.
I hate when he does that. It always reminds me of home and how my mother and father would treat me like the princess in front of their friends then freeze me out and act as if I were a whipping girl rather than a whipping boy for their pleasure. I’d have to pretend my entire life to be someone in front of those who my parents called friends. Behind closed doors it was an entirely different story.
My mother monitored my every movement. I was banned from going into the kitchen for anything not even water. I had to eat whatever she gave which was hardly anything at all. Plain salads, with the occasional small piece of chicken or fish for protein. That was my life, a life I escaped from with the knowledge I’d be marrying someone just as horrible as both my mother and father. Parker stated just that at the dinner we all had together the night I left.
I barely contain the shiver that courses through my body as I think of that night. I can still hear my mother calling out Parker’s name. Thankfully, I didn’t see the act at play. It’s bad enough I heard it. That’s the life I would have lived, not knowing who my husband would be fucking each night as he controls my every move. It would only be a marriage of convenience for everyone around me. Yet, I would be nothing but a prisoner, only to be let out when it was time to pretend we’re all one big happy family.
Now here Tracker is, standing in front of me, claiming he owns me.
Like hell he does.
I didn’t escape one hell to be a possession in another. Nope, not fucking happening.
“That’s not my name anymore,” I grind my teeth together as I divert my gaze away from him.
Why does he have to be so damn gorgeous?
God, I just need to get dressed, go home, grab my emergency go bag, and leave. Forget my feelings for this man. He’s already proven I’m nothing to him and never will be. Take what we just did for instance. Not even five minutes ago he was taking my virginity, and before that he’d been sitting in the main room making out with Dixie.
Asshole.
“Think what you want, babe, but it is your legal name. Unless you’ve changed it in the last twenty-four hours,” he says starkly as he grabs a hold of my arm, once again drawing me into his body.
“Leave me alone,” I mutter as I attempt to get out of his hold.
“Not a chance,” he chuckles.
Chuckles. That asshole has the nerve to act as if this whole mess is a joke. Well, maybe to him it is but to me it’s my life.
“Look, Tracker, you don’t like me so just let me go and leave me alone. By tomorrow, you won’t have to worry about me, I’ll be out of the way,” I say as I push against his chest. Which is pointless since he’s nothing but pure muscle and doesn’t budge.
“Already told you, princess, so don’t make me repeat myself. You should know by now I don’t like to repeat myself,” Tracker smirks while running one of his hands down to cup my bare ass.
“Can you please let me put my clothes on?” I murmur, feeling more naked than I already am.
“Yeah, you can get dressed,” he grins, letting go of me so I can do just that. Unfortunately, thanks to him, I need to throw these scraps of clothing away and find something else. Thank God I keep a spare change of clothes here. It’s something Raven always tells me— make sure you keep extra items with you, because you never know what could happen.
Turning away from Tracker, I move toward the bathroom, all too aware he’s following my every movement. Entering the bathroom, I kneel down to grab my clothes out from under the sink.
“Interesting spot to keep clothes, Ice Princess,” Tracker says. Glancing over my shoulder, I find him leaning against the doorframe staring at me.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to have to keep my things in the dressing room with the dancers since I’m not dancing anymore,” I shrug.
“If you’re not dancing anymore, why’d you do it tonight?” he asks.
Standing, I put the clothes on the counter and turn to stare at Tracker as I grab my panties and put them on. I notice his gaze shift down to watch as I pull them on. He continues to stare as I pull a tank top over my naked breasts. A pair of sweatpants follow.
“I danced tonight because I was down two dancers and had no one to fill in. I can’t exactly ask my other dancers who are already working their asses off to take on even more. And God forbid I ask Cherry Pie, Peaches, Dixie, Gia, or any of the other women around here who fuck you and the other guys. They think their shit don’t stink and they can get away with whatever the fuck they want,” I finally say before turning to face the mirror to put my hair up in a messy bun.
“You’re the damn manager around here. If you tell them bitches to jump, then they need to be asking how fuckin’ high. Grow a pair of balls and tell them to do their jobs,” Tracker says as he stands straight.
“It’s not always that easy when those bitches, as you call them, are more worried about a call from one of you guys. Now, get out of my way. I’m going home and you’re gonna leave me alone,” I mutter as I step toward him.
“Did you think this job was goin’ to be easy, Ice Princess? That you could snap your fingers and they’ll do what you want them to? Then you’re in the wrong line of work, babe,” he sneers as he steps forward. I back away from him as he keeps coming until my back hits the wall. “As for me leaving you alone, not gonna happen. I told you already, I own you, Victoria, and I intend to sink my dick back into that tight as fuck pussy over and over again until you get it in your head, princess. You’re mine, baby, and I play for keeps.”
Chapter Five
Victoria
I couldn’t be more pissed than I am right now. Tracker being who he is, a big fat jerk and pain in my ass, made sure to follow me home and has now parked himself in my bed with his arms stretched out behind his head.
Raven thankfully is working tonight and not here to witness what’s about to happen. Although I’m sure she’d probably take Tracker’s side on this and say let him have his way, at least for a little while. Let him fuck you and then tell his ass to kick rocks.
I’d love nothing more than to have Tracker in my bed, but not like this. Not with him claiming he owns me. No, I want him there because he loves me and wants no one else but me. I want him to look at me like I’m the only one in the world for him, the way Stoney looks at Rachel. They’d come by the club a few times together whenever he needed to speak to me. I found Rachel to be one of the nicest women I’ve ever met.
Shaking my head, I step into the shower as I try to block out any and all images of Tracker laying in my bed. I’d done my best to get him to leave but when he'd laid on my bed, I knew it was pointless. The jerk is as stubborn as they come. But what I don’t get is why all of a sudden he’s so interested in me. It’s not like he didn’t have plans to fuck another woman until he saw me on stage again.
Besides, I’m no one to him, but he calls me Ice Princess and a possession. Yeah, I’ll not allow him to believe he can think either of those things about me. I’m neither of those things. I don’t even know what it would take to get him to see me in any other light.
Lifting my head, I let the spray of the water pelt against my face as I run my hands through my hair. Washing my face, I can’t help but think of what’s so wrong with me that everyone in my life thinks I’m only worthy of being owned and not loved. That’s all I’ve ever wanted— someone to love me for who I am.