He tossed a pebble from the roof onto the pavement below. “We seriously need more kinky sweetbutts.”
“Fuck yeah. Any idea how to go about getting some?”
“No, but I’m up for a plan to train the ones we have to enjoy that shit.”
“Chattanooga has contests for the one who can take the most strikes of a belt, and the winner gets to choose between a few guys, so she gets her favorite. Or sometimes the winner gets eaten out by Dawg in front of everyone, but I’m not sure we have anyone who’ll volunteer to deliver that prize.”
“Fuck, if it gets the girls to bend over for a belting, I’ll volunteer.”
“And if no one wants to compete?”
He rubbed his chin. “We start out with a hand spanking, move up to a paddle. Get to the belt eventually. Chattanooga has the loser having to go downstairs to run a train. We probably shouldn’t start out with that, but we can implement it later.”
“Might just work.”
Dementor
Six weeks later, I considered showing up for one of Ember’s matches, but I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t going to make a fool of myself. She either still needed space or was done with me. Either way, I needed to move on.
I missed her, but I got involved with our little project to train the sweetbutts to enjoy pain. Banshee, Daffodil, and Crystal usually joined in whatever competition we invented, but it was slow going and I wasn’t sure they were going to learn to love the rough stuff. I was fully on board with the experiment, though.
Nearly two months later I was working Blaze’s door, and I froze when I scented her, certain I was imagining it. I looked around and saw one of her derby teammates, and looked down to see Ember with her. It only took a second for me to realize the team had come here for their afterparty, and I wondered if this was Ember’s idea or her teammates’.
I pressed my earpiece. “Bobcat. Got a roller derby team of women in line. My guess is they’re celebrating a win. Is it okay if I let them in gratis? Do we have any party areas open?”
“Ember?”
“Yes, with her team.”
“Go ahead. I’ll send someone to relieve you so you can bring them in and seat them. Some of them are gay and bi, right?”
“Yes.”
“Party area B, then. It’s the closest available one to the stage.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
I let people through and watched for my relief. When he arrived, I turned it over to him, and stood with him to wait for Ember and her friends to make it to us.
“Ladies, we have a party area for you. I’m hoping ya’ll won tonight and this is a celebration?”
“Damned straight it is,” one of the tallest women told me. “Kicked their asses all the way back to Atlanta. How you doin’, Big D?”
She talked to me all the way through the club, and Alondra walked up as I showed them their seats. “Hi, I’m Alondra and I’ll be takin’ care of ya’ll tonight. You want to pay as you go or run a tab?”
Bobcat joined us and told Alondra, “This is most of the Birmingham Hellcats, and they’re here to celebrate their victory.” He turned to the team. “Food’s on the house, but you’ll have to pay for anything alcoholic. Don’t want to get in trouble with the liquor board. If you need us to break your large bills into smaller ones we can do that. If you want a lapdance with someone and can’t get her attention, let Alondra know and she’ll set you up. Most of the new girls charge twenty bucks for fifteen minutes, but the more experienced dancers have their own prices, so find out what they charge before you go back. Any questions, ask me or Alondra.” He looked at me and then back to them before adding, “Or The D. I’ll check in with ya’ll again in a little bit. Have fun!”
Bobcat walked away, and a female voice asked, “What are the rules?”
I looked at the group and didn’t know who asked, but I answered them as a group. “No touching the dancers. If you want to put money in their g-string, hold it up. They’ll show you where you can put it. Don’t try to put it somewhere else. They won’t know you’re interested in flirting unless you give them money. If you step out of line, they’ll let you know and ya’ll can keep having fun. If you step out of line again, it’ll be me or another bouncer explaining the rule, but I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem with ya’ll. I’m here to protect the dancers and the patrons. If you need help, say my name. If one of you needs to leave before everyone else, let one of us walk you to your car. We don’t have problems often, but I’m not a fan of women wandering around alone outside. I know ya’ll can take care of yourselves, but humor me in this. The group of ya’ll together will be fine. I’d be more worried about the men giving ya’ll grief.”
I smiled and started my rounds. As a bouncer, you identify the potential problems so you’re ready for them when they step out of line. I have a set path I take winding through the club so I can listen in on conversations and get everyone’s scent. On this night, I listened to the derby girls chatting from across the bar while I watched everyone else.
I soon found out Ember hadn’t known where they were going until they were almost here. She’d ridden with someone and couldn’t leave. For the first thirty minutes, I wasn’t clear on whether they came because they wanted to party here, or because they wanted to force Ember to see me again. Finally, one of the women told her, “He’s right over there. Go talk to him. See if he wants to have dinner. Girl, I’m tired of you doing dangerous shit, chasing the high he gave you. He’s right, fucking, there.”
Ember met my gaze and realized I’d heard her friend from across the room. I pointed to Bobcat’s office, and she nodded.
I touched my earpiece on the way. “Bobcat. I’m gonna use your office. Can you pretend you’re a bouncer for five or ten minutes?”
“I’ll do it the rest of the night if it’ll get ya’ll back together.”
I didn’t respond. I’d buy him a case of beer later.
I stepped in with her and closed the door behind us. The speakers piped the music in, but we couldn’t hear the people.
“I’m glad you’re safe, but worried that you’ve been doing dangerous shit.”
“It isn’t dangerous. I went to a club in Atlanta and one of my teammates has a girlfriend who does stage shows there. She saw me and told them, and they freaked that I’d gone alone. I went with a referral from the club in Montgomery, and they assigned a dungeon master to keep an eye on me since I went without someone to watch out for me and I didn’t know anyone. No one was going to take advantage of me. The DM set me up with an experienced Dom who found buttons even I didn’t know I had.”
I sat, stretched my feet out in front of me, and crossed them at the ankles. I wasn’t going to push myself on her. “I’d love to hear about it. I miss talking to you.”
She sat in another chair and sighed. “I’ve missed you, too, but I don’t think I’m ready for you.”
“You enjoyed everything I did to you. Are you looking for someone who isn’t as extreme?”
“No, that isn’t it. You were perfect, but I’m still figuring out who I am when no one owns me. When I’m myself. I’m not ready for a relationship. Plus, I feel like I need other experiences, and once we’re together, it’s just gonna be us.”
“So you want to be wild and get it out of your system before you settle down?”
“I don’t know. Maybe, but that’s simplifying it too much. I just know that I can’t do the easy thing, and letting you take care of me would be the easy thing. I need to do the hard things. I need to figure my shit out and fix my baggage.”
“Look, I think we’re perfect for each other, and that doesn’t come along very often, but I’m not going to beg you. I’d like you to consider the possibility that I can help you figure your shit out, and I can be a support system while you fix your baggage. I was falling in love with you, and sitting across the room right now, I can’t deny the chemistry’s there, but if you don’t feel it, you should tell me to take a hike
and forget about you.”
She sighed. “I feel it. It’s there. I don’t know, maybe we can start talking and texting, keep each other updated on what’s going on in our lives. How have you been?”
“I’m good. I work long hours and party hard when I’m not working.”
“I know it isn’t fair, and I’m not mad at you, but the idea of you screwing or spanking someone else makes my heart hurt.”
“You’re right, it isn’t fair.”
“Is there anyone in your life you care about?”
“There are lots of people in my life I care about. My brothers are my family.”
“Women.”
I shrugged. “Not in the way I care about you, but I care about them as people. The ones I’d rather not be around, I avoid. There’s no one I want to spend much time with outside of sex, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“And if I wanted to do stuff with you — have dinner and maybe go for a walk or a run, but there wouldn’t be sex, would you want to?”
“In a heartbeat.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t text or call. That was rude.”
“It was.”
She gave me a deadpan look. “Damn, you don’t pull any punches, do you?”
“With you? I’m sitting on my hands so I don’t punch at all. You’re upset with me for agreeing with you?”
“Most people would say they understood, or it was okay.”
“But it wasn’t okay. Whether I understand or not doesn’t make it okay. You were right. It was rude. I’m willing to forgive you, but that doesn’t change the fact it wasn’t nice.”
She looked down, took a few seconds to regroup, and met my gaze again. “So what else is new with you? I know ya’ll needed more members, have you brought more people in?”
We had a few new prospects, actually, but I wasn’t going to talk to her about the club. “The only way to meet our members is to be at the clubhouse. I can’t talk to you about that.”
“You did before. You told me a little about people I’d meet. I knew a little about your brothers before I met them.”
“In the course of telling stories about myself and having normal conversation, I’m sure I did, but that was different. Plus, we were an item.” I didn’t want to sound combative, so I tried to give her something. “Gears helped me rebuild the engine on one of my bikes. It gave me a nice little side project, and now it’s a dream to ride.”
“I thought I’d be moving to Chattanooga when I went to work for Drake, but it turns out, Aaron’s planning to keep me here. He has bodyguards living in most major cities, and I knew that, but I wasn’t expecting to get to stay. He can use more analysts in Chattanooga, but he doesn’t need more bodyguards there.”
“Was that one of the reasons you didn’t think we could work?” I asked.
“Yeah. I mean, I knew you could transfer to another club, but I didn’t figure you would. Your brothers need you.”
“So, one obstacle’s down. Want to tell me the other ones?”
“My baggage. It wouldn’t be fair to you for me to dive into an ‘us’ when I don’t have ‘me’ straightened out.”
“Can I take you to dinner Sunday evening? Or lunch that afternoon?”
She pulled her phone from her pocket and looked. “I can do dinner. Six, maybe?”
“Perfect. I’ll pick you up. No sex. Just food and conversation.”
I scented both relief and disappointment. Perhaps she was right and she really did need to work through her shit.
Chapter Fourteen
Ember
I called Sophia on Sunday afternoon and had a total meltdown. I cared about Dementor and wanted him in my life, but I wasn’t ready to settle down. Plus, bears aren’t monogamous and no way could I expect him to never fuck anyone but me for the rest of his life, but if I was going to settle down, I needed to know my partner was mine.
She pulled Kirsten into our video chat, and then bowed out so it was just me and Kirsten. I’d talked to her a few times before and she’d helped, so I appreciated her taking the time to talk to me again. Kirsten isn’t currently practicing, but she’s a therapist who understands BDSM and the long term after-effects of being a sex-slave. I don’t consider myself an ex-sex-slave, but Kirsten had told me in the past that I have all the hallmarks of one.
When Sophia was gone, Kirsten said, “Tell me your biggest fear.”
“That I’m putting myself into the same relationship dynamics I had with Able. The MC passes women around like chattel — they aren’t even at the level of a treasured toy. Dementor gives me screaming orgasms, and I think I risk getting addicted to him, like I was to Able. I could only focus on pleasing Able, but he wouldn’t put me first in his life. Why did I spend years hoping he would? Looking at it now, I see that he’d have never made me his wife or queen or whatever. I was his toy. Nothing more. No chance of more.”
“I’ve been around the Chattanooga RTMC chapter, and the women they pass around are called sweetbutts. The ol’ladies aren’t shared. You’d be like Velvet is to Mad Dog. If anyone so much as looked at you like they were thinking of you sexually, they’d probably be beaten to a pulp. As a general rule, the bikers don’t share their ol’ladies. I know of two exceptions, and they’re, well, exceptional.”
“Dementor said ol’ladies are different than sweetbutts, but I’ve learned to watch what people do and not listen to what they say.”
“A good practice, but you’d need to watch how the ol’ladies are treated, not the sweetbutts. Maybe you can come to a Chattanooga party? There are a lot more ol’ladies up here and it’s easier to see how it works. You were only seeing one ol’lady and probably a shitload of sweetbutts. Your assumptions are understandable.”
“I don’t think I need to see. I’ll take your word for it.”
“What else? We’re still on your biggest fears.”
I sighed. “I was worried that I only liked him because he could give me some of what Able did. The dominance and pain. You helped me understand how wanting that isn’t bad so long as I don’t let it spill into the rest of my life, but I still worried I only wanted him because of the sex stuff.” I sighed. “D said today will just be food and conversation. No sex. I’m good with that, but I’m also scared of whatever conversation he’s planning because I have no clue what I want out of this.” Another sigh. “And yet, I’ve missed him, and I’m looking forward to spending time with him.” I released my ponytail and put the holder on my wrist. “I have no idea what to wear. Something sexy? Something sporty? Casual? Or do I go full-on biker chick?”
She laughed. “Consider the message you’ll send if you wear something sexy, but otherwise, I’m not sure it matters. Sport or casual might be the best message, but if you want to send a strong signal that you think you might want to live in his lifestyle, the biker-chick look might be a good choice.”
“I’m not actually sure how I feel about the whole biker thing. I mean, I’m attracted to him, and he’s a biker, so I have to accept it and I get that, but parts of it make me uncomfortable.”
“What parts?”
“I don’t think I’m supposed to talk to outsiders about it.”
“You’re probably right, so I’ll bring up the possibilities. The fact he likely participates in illegal activities. Also, we already know you aren’t entirely comfortable with the way the sweetbutts are treated.” She paused. “Let’s talk about that, because I’ve had to do some soul searching on it as well. Do you wish someone had removed you from Able’s household?”
“It wouldn’t have done any good. I thought it was what I wanted. I was like a drug addict. Like it or not, I needed to go through it and come out the other side to see why that isn’t the lifestyle I want for myself going forward.” I rolled my eyes. “Okay, and the sweetbutts are there because they want to be. No one’s forcing them, so who am I to say it’s wrong?”
“Yes. Okay, back to what you aren’t comfortable with in Dementor’s lifestyle.”
“You’re
right about the possibility he does illegal stuff. I’m pretty sure he does bad stuff for good reasons, and I know law enforcement can’t properly police the populace anymore, which means vigilante justice is sometimes the only justice we can hope for, but it still worries me.”
“With good reason.”
Right, but I didn’t want to talk about that with anyone besides Dementor. It didn’t feel right, so I told her, “I appreciate you talking to me. I know you aren’t working as therapist anymore.”
“I’ll always be a therapist at heart, whether I’m officially taking patients or not. It’s been good talking to you, and I hope I’ve helped you sort through a few things.”
We talked a little longer, and then I went to my closet to figure out what the fuck to wear.
The temptation was there to wear a slinky, sexy, clingy dress and heels. Could I get him to come back to my place and ravage me if I tried hard enough?
Something told me I couldn’t, which made me want to try, but the rational part of me won out and I grabbed tight jeans and a Birmingham Hellcats shirt. I tucked the shirt in and paired it with a kickass grommeted black canvas belt, but then had second thoughts. What if he took me somewhere nice? I pulled it all off, hung it back up, and looked through the dressier section of my closet.
Fuck.
Dementor (Rolling Thunder MC Birmingham Book 1) Page 11