“I’m going out of town tomorrow night after my shift. But we could talk right before I punch in and my manager won’t care. Can you come back tomorrow?” she asked, as she turned around and shook her ass in my face.
It was hard to look anywhere else, let alone reply to her question.
She reached back and slapped her ass loudly.
I jumped.
“Sorry,” she said, looking over her shoulder, shrugging, half-smiling. “Habit.”
***
Sapphire and I agreed to meet at 9 p.m. the next night - Saturday.
I walked out of the protection of the Kit Kat Klub and smack dab into the middle of the craziness of Portland’s nightclub scene. The streets were filled with tourists, club kids, street kids, drugged out zombies and homeless people.
It never ceased to amaze me that Portland’s so-called ‘tourist’ district was in the same location as all the homeless shelters and missions. I zigzagged through the crowd as I made my way down the few blocks to where I had parked my car.
Right away, I realized I was being followed. I had noticed him sitting at the bar, his eyes following me as I had gotten up to talk to Sapphire. And they had still been on me when I had walked out of the booth with her, watching even more intently as she gave me another naked bear hug before I left.
As I passed by a closed vintage clothing shop, I saw him a few steps behind me in the reflection of the shop window. I picked up my pace and crossed the street, dodging passing cars as I jaywalked. I turned to look behind me and didn’t see a car turning into the road until the driver honked loudly and slammed on the brakes, his car coming to a stop mere inches from my shins.
My heart leapt into my throat and I ran to the curb, panting and terrified. I looked into the crowd across the street and the man had disappeared.
I sighed with relief and turned back towards my car. I began walking down the sidewalk again, thankful for the safety of the side of the road. I tried to shake it off, wiping my sweaty palms on my slacks.
Maybe I had been wrong, maybe he hadn’t been following me after all. I was just paranoid, because of Evie, because of the other two missing girls. This whole city was on edge because of it.
I looked across the street one more time and saw the man emerge from the crowd again. I gasped as he began to cross the street and head towards me. My car was a block away and I reached in my bag for my keys as I walked as fast as I could.
It wasn’t fast enough. He was on me before I knew it, his meaty hand pushing me against the brick wall of a closed bank.
I pushed against him, screaming and trying to untangle myself from his grasp. His eyes flashed in the street light and I realized he was drunk and angry, all at once.
Angry was dangerous. But drunk, I could work with.
My knee slammed up between his legs and he crumbled to the ground.
I ran. Fast. And I didn’t look back.
I was in my car and squealing out of my parking space within seconds, my hands trembling, my entire body on fire with adrenaline.
I made it home in record time, my car carrying me to the safety of my condo building’s underground parking garage. I don’t think I took a breath until I heard the loud clanging bang of the huge gate closing behind me.
After I had regained some semblance of control, I searched through my purse and found my phone.
I punched in the number I knew by heart but had never dialed before.
Slade answered on the second ring, his sleepy, sexy voice transporting me to that long ago night.
“Slade, it’s Diana,” I said, the tremble still lingering in my voice. “I need you. I mean, I need your…services.”
His laughter traveled through the phone and into my brain, echoing through my body like a shock wave.
“Baby, I’m a lot of things,” he replied, as he finally stopped laughing, “but I’m no gigolo!”
☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼
“Those aren’t the services I’m referring to.”
The sound of Diana’s voice shot right to my cock, the blood rushing to it, giving me an instant hard-on that throbbed and pulsed hotly in my jeans. She had been a wild filly in bed, her body responding to every thing I did like a quivering virgin. I had been a little disappointed she hadn’t ever called me again for a second round but I got it.
Women like her didn’t stick around men like me for long. They quickly realized I was trouble and the age-old endeavor of changing a man to fit a pre-conceived mold was never going to work with me.
I wasn’t about to change. And so, I didn’t pretend I could. If I had to pick, I’d say that’s what drew women to me in the first place. The fact that you got what you saw with me. No bullshit. No pretense. That, and my debonair smile and huge cock, of course.
But it never took them long to figure out that they should run away if they knew what was good for them. And fast.
So, of course she hadn’t called, even if the fireworks between us was off the charts. If I was a different man, leading a different life, fuck, I might have pursued her myself.
But why torture her?
She seemed like a nice enough girl. And, to be honest, I had initially propositioned her to protect the club, to make sure she didn’t say anything during her broadcast that could put the club at risk. Or Solid Ground.
That was always my priority.
And, well, if I got some sweet tail in the process, then it was a delicious bonus. No sense in breaking any more hearts than I needed to.
And that petite little blonde reporter had indeed been delicious. Remembering her now, I could almost taste her peachy cream again. I licked my lips as I imagined her naked beneath me, writhing under my tongue.
Damn.
“So, what services are you referring to then, beauty?” I asked, my cock painfully throbbing at the memories.
“Something’s happened. Have you heard about the three missing women?”
“Yeah, I saw it on the news.”
“One of them is my sister. Evie Reynolds. My long-lost sister, actually. It’s a long story.”
“What does that have to do with me, darling?”
“I need to do some investigating. And well…tonight, shit, someone followed me out of the strip club, and it scared me. I need to go back tomorrow and I was wondering if you could come with me, perhaps?” Her voice was shaking.
“Someone followed you? From a strip club? What the fuck, Diana?” None of this made sense, why was she at a strip club alone? I shook my head as she began explaining.
“Look, I know. It sounds crazy. Evie worked there. I’m just trying to find out what happened to her. Like I said, it’s a long story. Can you just come to Portland, and we can talk about it? Please? I’ll - I’ll pay you.”
“You don’t have to pay me, for fuck’s sake, Diana, I’ve had my tongue in your ass.”
I heard her gasp and smiled. I remembered that sound fondly. I looked around at the empty clubhouse.
The Gods of Chaos clubhouse had become a Gods of Couples clubhouse lately. Ryder and Grace, Riot and Lacey, hell, even the fucking owl had found a girlfriend. Most nights they were all behind closed doors and I was out at the bar looking for some strange to tide me over till morning.
Far as I could see, I wasn’t really needed so much around here right now.
“Yeah, beauty, I’ll come,” I murmured. The amber whiskey in my glass sparkled in the low light of the clubhouse bar. I stood up, downed it, and decided to leave tonight. Why not? “Don’t you worry, beauty. You sit tight. I’m on my way.”
I hung up the phone, a smile on my face when I heard her sigh with relief. I packed a bag and didn’t leave a note. I’d call Ryder tomorrow and explain. He could do without me for a few days.
I walked out onto the porch of the rundown clubhouse that I called home. Surrounded by towering pines, the beauty was all found outside the walls of the clubhouse. Which is where most of us spent our time. Riot was constantly out punching his bag by the river down the ro
ad and I liked to entice him to fight me barefoot on the grassy meadow out back as often as I could. He seemed to be less and less interested in that now that Lacey was here, though.
It would be good to get a break.
As if I needed further convincing, the fluttering swoosh of wings caught my eye as I walked down the stairs. Oliver and Olivia. I don’t even know who fucking named the two owls those ridiculous names, but it had stuck. They came around all the time, cooing and whooing at all hours of the night. It was impossible to get angry at them, they were so damned cute, sitting there blinking at you all the time like they could read your mind or some horseshit.
Yeah, a break, a good long break with a hot little filly that tasted like peaches. Sounded real fucking good. In fact, I couldn’t think of anything better if I tried.
As I jumped on my bike and roared off down the five miles of winding dirt road that led away from the clubhouse, my cock throbbed relentlessly, my constant companion. We were both hoping this trip turned out to have a little bit of pleasure mixed in with the business.
I pulled up to the turn off to the main road, adjusting my aching cock in my jeans before speeding off into the darkness of the forest, a smirk on my face as I thundered past the tall, swaying trees.
The sound of Diana’s sweet voice echoed in my ears for the next hour.
☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼
I stared at the phone in my hand as the line cut off.
Fuck!
What had I done?
I had dialed the number I had avoided for months. In a moment of desperation, I caved. Like a fucking avalanche.
And now he was on his way. Did he mean…like, now? For fuck’s sake it was midnight on a Friday night and he was just going to drive all that way? I never expected him to do that. Hell, I never expected him to say yes in the first place.
But he did. With enthusiasm.
Shit. What the hell was I thinking? He’s a fucking outlaw biker, for god’s sake!
I could hear my mother’s voice echoing in my ears, warning me about the dangers of anything and everything, especially men, especially men like Slade.
Slade whatever-his-last-name-is.
It was probably something insanely intense. Something hot and sultry to go with those eyes of his. Something hard, edgy and in your face like that body of his.
God!
That body. Was that even real? I mean, it’d been six months. And it was just the one night, it was dark, that was for sure. But my hands sliding over those taught muscles didn’t lie, and I had only had one beer, so I knew it wasn’t the liquor talking. Hell, I didn’t need booze. He was intoxicating enough on his own.
And now he was on his way. Or, was he? He didn’t really say. He wasn’t the most…communicative…of men. Unless you considered someone who reminded you of the most intimate thing he had done to your body in casual conversation communicative.
Fuck!
Fuck. Maybe he wasn’t coming till tomorrow. Maybe I should call him back.
Holy hell. Maybe I should go shower and shave and…as I looked around my apartment…clean up? I was used to being alone, and my apartment reflected that. Big time.
I would have to prioritize. My mind went into overdrive as I began making a colossal list in my head.
Shave first.
Everything else could wait.
And well, the shaving might take a while.
☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼
“Hooooly, shit,” I whistled under my breath. Standing in front of the address Diana had given me, I stared up at the shimmering monstrosity of a towering condo building smack dab in the middle of The Pearl, a warehouse district that had been taken over by the richest of the rich. The black sky above it only made me miss the darkness of the clubhouse. Only a few stars were visible here in the city, and it was a stark contrast to the millions that I was used to seeing every night.
Not to mention the fact that it was the middle of the night, one thirty-six a.m., actually, and the sidewalks were still bustling with a steady stream of people.
The lack of quiet was disconcerting and I took a moment to take it all in.
It wasn’t what I expected but considering I had only ‘known’ Diana for a few hours, I didn’t have much to go on anyway. A doorman guarded the door. He wasn’t kidding around in the doorman department. He stood tall and proud, looking absolutely ridiculous in his maroon feathered hat, and a red and gold uniform that actually had tassels hanging from his shoulders. Fucking tassels! A self-important furrow wrinkled his brow and I resisted the urge to laugh as I sauntered up to the shiny, gold-trimmed revolving door.
He looked like a character out of the fucking Nutcracker.
I nodded to him as I approached, heading for the doors, figuring I didn’t need his services since Diana had already given me her condo number. He had different plans. He quickly moved to stand between the doors and me.
“Good evening,” I said, figuring that was how one was supposed to greet a doorman. I didn’t have much experience with that, if you can believe it.
I guess it wasn’t the right thing to say. Or, he didn’t like it. Or, most likely, he didn’t like the looks of me, because that fucking ugly wrinkle in his brow deepened to a big scary crater as he attempted to out-alpha me right away.
I hated this fucking game. The subtle exchange between two men, strangers or not, that occurred. The lightening flash of a second where dominance was established. Or at least an attempt at it. It was when there was a struggle, when one of the two refused to back down, that caused the friction.
And with this guy, well, the friction was instant. I could tell by the way he dismissed me right away that he wasn’t going to make this easy.
“I’m sure you’re in the wrong place, sir.”
And, well, fuck. That kind of shit just irks my hide so badly. I don’t back down to anyone and yet I know how to be polite. It’s the people who aren’t polite to me, the ones who judge me by the cut across my shoulders, that I don’t have any patience for.
Like this guy. If I wasn’t here to see Diana, and my dick wasn’t still half-hard from the goddamned porno movie that wouldn’t quit playing in my head on the way here, then I’d have punched the motherfucker, got back on my bike, and gone back home. But damned if my dick didn’t seem to be pushing me on, leading me around like a fucking puppet.
I tried one last time at civility.
“I’m here to see Diana Trudeau. She’s expecting me.”
He scoffed at me. He fucking scoffed.
I shook my head, taking a step back and slowly taking him in. He was a little taller than me, but I could take him if I had to.
“I said, she’s expecting me,” I repeated. “I can find my own way.”
I moved to the side to step around him and he put his hand on my arm.
I froze, looked at his hand briefly, and then pulled my eyes up to meet his.
“Really?” I asked.
“You need to leave,” he said, pulling on my arm and attempting to pull me away from the door. I didn’t budge.
“Don’t fucking touch me, motherfucker!” I jerked my arm away. Again, my first instinct was to punch him. Miraculously, Diana’s face flashed in my head, and I pushed him away instead.
“Call her, asshole. My name is Slade. She’s fucking expecting me, you fucking douchebag.” I was pissed. But fuck that guy.
He began dialing and for a moment, I thought I had gotten through to him. Until he stopped punching after three numbers.
“You fuck. You’re calling the cops?” I yelled. People on the street started staring, and the fucking nutcracker looking motherfucker at the door decided he would turn away while he spoke to the cops.
Like a fucking idiot. What kind of guard turns his back like that?
I sprinted past him, entering and pushing on the revolving doors to make my way inside the building. He noticed after two seconds and ran in behind me. I turned around and waited till my section had opened to the lobby, then stopped
the door from moving with my foot, trapping him inside the revolving door. As if it was waiting for me, a heavy potted plant was right outside of the door. I held the door closed with my foot, and slid the potted plant in front of it to wedge it into place.
The nutcracker dude banged against the glass, yelling like a little girl, his face turning red with anger. It was fucking hilarious.
I left him there and ran to the elevators chuckling. The doors closed just as I heard the sound of sirens approach. I pressed the button for the seventh floor and looked around.
All I saw was me. Lots of me. The mirrored elevator created that funhouse effect of creating endless reflections and I entertained myself as the elevator began moving, jumping around and waving my arms.
I was having way too much fun.
The doors opened to a quiet, lushly carpeted hallway and I walked all the way to the end of it, until I found the number Diana had told me over the phone. 715.
BROKEN WINGS: GODS OF CHAOS MC (BOOK THREE) Page 4