Angel Unseen: An Unseen MC Novel

by J Bree

  If he knows her from college he might have her fucking address too.

  Come to think of it, I need her fucking address.

  It’s already busy, every table full and the food and drinks are coming out at a decent clip. I grin and work my way through the room, greeting the regulars and the townspeople that I’ve spent my whole life around. Some people might find that a little claustrophobic but to me it’s just the way home is. I know everything and everyone so if someone steps outta line I know exactly how to deal with it.

  I take a seat in the Callaghan booth, always reserved for one of us, and one of the waitresses comes to my table straight away.

  She grins at me, all batting eyelashes and push up bra. “Hey Tomikas! It’s been a minute since you were last here! Something big going on in your world?”

  I don’t have it in me to flirt back with her. Fuck, I can’t even fake it. “I’m a busy man. I’ll have a couple beers and that’s it.”

  She deflates with a pout but doesn’t push me. “Coming right up.”

  She’s quick about bringing them to me, and when she turns to leave I spot the last fucking person I want at this bar tonight.

  Angel walks in in a pair of jeans and an old, washed out band tee. Her hair is already done and her make up so she’s not here for a fucking drink.

  I want to break something.

  She spots me and startles a little, then she pulls herself up and walks over to me with a straight back and a determined look on her face.

  The second she’s within earshot I snap, “What the hell are you doing here?”

  She clears her throat as she comes to a stop in front of the booth. “Diamond told me I had to work the party here tonight. She said it was do this or find a new job and I like The Boulevard.”

  Fucking Diamond.

  I should’ve killed the cunt last night, of course she changed her fucking tune. Axe probably fucked her until she caved, I need to go punch the asshole square in the jaw.

  Angel twists her shirt in her hands, chews on her lip a little more before clearing her throat. “I just wanted to say thanks… for coming to help me. I know you’re just… protecting property or whatever but, yeah, thanks.”

  Her eyes stay on the ground and my jaw locks up from all of the fucking clenching my teeth are doing. Does she even know what she sounds like right now?

  Thanking me for dehumanizing her.

  It’s the first of many signs to come that something isn’t fucking right.

  I don’t see it that way though. I see it as a girl who’s trying to piss me the fuck off, get a rise outta me to chase this patch of mine and fuck if that isn’t the biggest fucking kick in the guts.

  I want her.

  She’s playing fucking games.

  I’m going to end up losing fucking everything to a girl who’s named Angel, looks like just like one but has the fucking devil inside her.

  She moves to turn around right as Jameson and his party arrive.

  I lose my goddamn head for a second.

  “What are you wearing tonight?”

  She turns back to me and swallows. “I brought a few options. Speck… Speck said there’s different laws about dancing at this kind of bar so I’ve got a corset instead. Is that… okay?”

  I shrug and stand up. “Show me. I’ll take you out back, you can get changed and if it’s not right you can put something else on.”

  She bites her lip and jerks her head into a nod. “Thanks. It’s… been weighing on me. I don’t want to… risk the club or my job.”

  Another warning sign.

  Why the hell does she need the money this badly?

  But that thought doesn’t stick in my head like it should. Instead, I walk out to the back rooms and I let her into the staff bathroom. Coulson, the bartender here, sees me and gives me a respectful nod. He’s a good man, the type who knows his place, and when Angel shuts herself up to get ready I lean against the wall opposite like some kinda chump he doesn’t say a fucking word about it.

  “You want a drink, boss?”

  Good man. “Whiskey. Just bring the bottle and if Rue gets in let him know I need to see him.”

  Coulson nods and leaves without a word.

  Three minutes later Rue stalks out, the whiskey in his hand, and a pissed look on his face. So a regular Saturday night for him then.

  “Is there a reason you’re stalking the fucking bathroom, asshole?”

  I shrug. “Diamond changed her mind. Sent Angel to dance.”

  Rue groans and opens the bottle, taking a swig straight before handing it over to me. “And she’s in there? Getting ready to dance for all your fucking friends?”

  My jaw clenches. “Guess so.”

  The bathroom door unlocks and Rue curses, his eyes dropping down to the ground like he’d rather gouge them out than look at her. I know it’s not because he thinks he’ll want her. Nope, he’s so far fucking gone on Graves that he barely fucking notices tits on anyone else.

  Nah, he’s respecting me and my fucking rage at the sight of Angel.

  A fucking corset.

  I didn’t even know what one was but there’s no fucking way, no fucking way, any woman of mine is walking out in that. Fuck, it’s worse than the pasties. White lace clinging to every fucking inch of her, accentuating her every curve, and I want to kill everyone.

  “I just got here from the party and they changed their minds, Angel. You head on back to The Boulevard. I have Mel coming over,” Rue says, his eyes still on the ground, digging me out of the fucking murder that’s about to happen.

  I finally look up to meet Angel’s eyes.

  Her pupils are blown out, her lips are parted and, fuck me, she’s breathing in these little pants that make me wanna push her back into that bathroom and fuck her against the wall.

  I step forward and she snaps out of the trance, ducking her head and scurrying backwards.

  “No worries, I’ll just get dressed again.”

  She snaps the door shut and I start cursing up a storm.

  Rue huffs and pulls out his phone to call Diamond and arrange the swap. “You are fucked, brother. You are fucked.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Angel

  After being sent away from the bachelor party, I head over to The Boulevard to cover for Mel’s shift. It’s a long night of dealing with Diamond being pissed off at me and when it’s finally over the last thing I wanna hear is her fucking voice. I’m digging through my locker for my shampoo, ready to scrub myself completely before I head back to my Chevy to pass out, and I damn near hit my head when she speaks to me.

  “Tomi wants to see you in the back.”

  I glance over my shoulder at her but the only thing on her face is a smug grin.

  My stomach drops.

  I pull a shirt over my head and when I move to grab up some pants she snorts at me. “He’s an impatient man, you might wanna hurry your ass up. Besides, going in there fully clothed might just piss him off.”

  Fuck.

  I lock up my shit and then head to the office, my hands shaking a little at whatever it is he could possibly want from me. Fuck, I’ve been dancing my ass off, coming up with new shit so the crowds stay as big as ever around here, I’m always on time, I never gossip or start shit with the other girls… what could I have possibly done wrong?

  I take a deep breath before I knock in an attempt to calm my nerves but nothing prepares me for the low tones of Tomi’s voice when he calls out to invite me in.

  He doesn’t sound pissed off.

  My hands shake a little more as I open the door and step in, finding Tomi behind the desk with a bottle of Jack and two shot glasses.

  “Take a seat.”

  Why the hell do my legs get weak at the command?

  I stumble over and collapse into the chair, telling myself I’m just exhausted. I’ve been working harder than any of the other girls and my muscles are feeling it but I know I’m lying to myself.

  Tom is wearing a black shirt und
er his cut, the sleeves short and tight over his arms. The tattoos flex over his muscles and it’s clear there’s something about this man that draws me in because… I want him. I fucking want him enough that maybe I could touch him and have him touch me.

  He smirks at me, still not saying a thing, and slowly picks up the bottle to pour out the shots.

  I find my voice, rough and drenched in heady lust, “I don’t drink whiskey.”

  Tomi shrugs. “Do the shots with me. What’s it going to hurt?”

  Me.

  I’ve never had hard liquor before and he’s too intense for me to try it out for the first time. I mean, he’s never tried to touch me, not once, but every time he comes into the club he sits in the corner and watches me all night. I think half the reason the other girls hate me is because he doesn’t watch any of them anymore. I try to tell them I don’t want his attention, I really don’t, but that just makes them even more angry.

  Diamond keeps snapping at me, like I’m acting ‘too good’ for him. Fuck, that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m a runaway gutter rat flashing her tits to old men for money.

  I’m the lowest of the low.

  My own self-loathing pushes me into taking the shot, wincing when it burns the whole way down. Tomi takes his without so much as a flinch, refilling both glasses and pushing mine back in my direction.

  Bad idea be damned, I knock it back and this time it barely touches the sides.

  He leans back and looks at me through hooded eyes. “This is your performance evaluation, I just wanna go through a few things with you and whiskey might help us along.”

  I shrug, the warmth pooling in my belly and spreading down my arms from the whiskey an unsettling sensation. I’ve only really drunk beer before and it takes a bit before the alcohol really sets in.

  This was damn near instant.

  “You’re very popular.”

  I shrug. “I take my dancing seriously, no half-assing around here.”

  He pours another shot and I take it before he even slides in across to me, the smirk on his face getting a little wider. “And yet you’ll only work the stage. A lot more tips are made in private dances.”

  “I don’t want to do extra. I’ve been very clear about that,” I say, my words coming out in a croak but his eyes still burn as they trace down my bare legs.

  “You just wanna be a dancer, not a pro? Fine by me.”

  Except then he stands up and walks around the desk until he’s leaning back on it, the bulge in his pants telling me this isn’t the end of the conversation.

  I swallow and he chuckles under his breath. “I’m not offering you money, Angel, but I do want you to suck my dick. You got a boyfriend or something stopping you?”

  I shake my head, my eyes still glued to the bulge. Jesus. Has he hypnotized me with it or something? The low and sultry tones of his voice are like a balm over that jittery part of my soul, soothing all of my sharp edges until I’m sitting here staring at his dick like it’s fucking breakfast.

  What the hell was in the whiskey?

  “What are you going to do about it then, Angel? What are you going to do about me standing here, wanting you to suck my dick? Are you gonna be the frigid bitch or show me what that mouth can actually do?”

  I shouldn’t let him bait me into anything.

  I shouldn’t.

  But for once in my life, I’m not scared of touching someone. I could show him… not that I really know what the hell to do but looking at him is like injecting lust straight into my bloodstream.

  I want him.

  I don’t want to want him, but I do.

  I sink to my knees and for a second, I think I see him hesitate. Fuck, if he doesn’t want this then why bait me? If he walked away right now… fuck, it wouldn’t actually change anything. I’d still be here for work tomorrow, the only thing would be that for once the rumors about me would be true.

  I would be the girl ready to get down on her knees for some biker she doesn’t really know, in the back of a strip club ready to suck him off.

  Maybe I should’ve done this years ago?

  Maybe the way to get past the horrible things that were done to me is to just… own them. Do whatever it is I want to do just so long as I find the right guy to be doing it with?

  The only flaw in that plan is that Tomi has been the very first guy to interest me and I’m freaking positive that once he blows his load he’ll walk the hell outta here.

  I guess that’s a good thing.

  I can’t let anyone close to me right now anyway.

  “Fuck you’re sexy down there, Angel. Hands behind your back. Open up wide for me, gimme that tongue.”

  I do what he asks, clasping my hands together and sticking out my tongue. I’m sure I look fucking stupid but he grunts as he unzips his jeans and fists his cock.

  It’s bigger than I thought a dick could be.

  I manage to swallow, even with my mouth open and he grunts at me, squeezing his cock until the tip glistens with his pre-cum. “Fuck, sweetness. You want this? You want me to shove this down that pretty throat of yours so you can swallow me up.”

  I nod my head just a tiny bit and he growls at me, a low and rough sound that has my thighs clenching together.

  I didn’t even know my body could react that way.

  He touches the tip to my tongue, rubbing the pre-cum there so I can taste him, and his eyes are hot on mine as he watches my every move. Not that I can move, nope, he has me trapped with the intensity of this moment. The salty tang of him isn’t exactly unpleasant but it’s not something I’m used to tasting.

  One of his hands drops into my hair and clenches into a fist, loose enough that I’m not in pain, and then he moves me forward until his cock is in my mouth and down my throat just like he promised me.

  I swallow around him until he slides further down, cutting off my air completely and I feel like my throat is bulging with the heaviness of him.

  He grunts like he’s in pain, then he starts to move his hips.

  “Fucking perfect. Taking my cock like a fucking pro, barely fucking gagging. It’s enough to tempt a man to really fuck these pouty lips, see if I can make you cry so pretty.”

  The words are like a sexy drawl, all confidence and arrogance that comes from being a big shot in his world. He’s a biker, the son of a long line of outlaws, grown up in the life and a clear path to whatever the hell he wants.

  I bet he’s never slept in a car before.

  I don’t cry. Not even when his hips start to really move, the tip of his dick nudging at my freaking voice box, and his hands jerking me further down his length. I don’t feel dirty or used because the sounds that come out of him… they’re like nothing I’ve ever heard before.

  Doesn’t matter that he’s fucking my throat, I’m the one sending him over the edge. My mouth is the one sucking and swallowing and working him over even as my hands stay clasped tightly behind my back. I chose to be here on my knees and I’ve chosen to watch his every move, the hitch of his breath and the grunts he lets out, until I’m sure I’m giving him the blowjob of his life.

  He pulls back at the last second and comes all over my face and chest. It misses my eyes but my makeup is ruined and I know I must look like every porn video ever with the fake lashes and red lipstick smeared around my face.

  The hand in my hair tightens as he grunts and then he tips my head back to look over where he’s left his mark.

  “So fucking pretty like that, Angel. Do you enjoy being on your knees for me in a strip club like a good little whore?”

  The word whore cuts into me like he’s taken a knife to my skin, cutting away the last little threads of power I’d just felt, but I manage to keep it off of my face. I mean, he’s right. Here I am on my knees in the back room of some strip club, sucking off my boss, so yeah… I guess whore is the right word.

  I want to die.

  I want to go back to before I’d taken those shots and say no. Why had I let my guard down fo
r a second? Why does his face feel like the home I never got to have and his arms around me feels like the heaven I’ll never get to?

  He uses my hair to tug me to my feet, no caring touches or tenderness in him at all. This isn’t what I want.

  He reaches for my panties and I flinch. A full body flinch away from his touch. I can’t. I can’t have him touching me, not now. I feel so fucking worthless and the shame from him seeing just how broken I am… fuck, I’m about to lose my shit, right here and now, covered in his cum.

  He sees it on my face too.

  “Fuck, there’s the little frosty bitch. I wondered when you’d remember and snap back to your usual fucking ways. Don’t wanna get off, Angel? Fine by me, I’m good,” he snaps, and tugs his hand out of my hair, buckling his jeans up and turning to the door without another word.

  I stare at the ground and try not to fucking die.

  I stay in the office for another few minutes, trying to stop myself from crying. When I’m finally sure I won’t burst into tears I get to my feet and poke around until I can find a box of tissues, cleaning up enough of the mess he’s made of my face that I think I can make it to the showers without completely shaming myself.

  It’s too little, too late.

  The second I open the door to leave the office I find a group of giggling women, all of them fresh outta the bar and witnesses to Tomi’s speedy exit.

  “Fuck, girl, I’ve never seen that man look angry after he’s blown a load. You must be really fucking shit at sucking dick!” Diamond laughs and it nearly fucking kills me not to cry.

  If I can escape my stepfather’s house, I can get through tonight without crying or making a scene. I have a plan and I’m going to fucking make it through this. I’ll be back here dancing tomorrow night and it’ll be the best fucking dance any man has ever seen.

  It has to be.

  The other girls do everything they can to make me feel like shit.

  It’s so fucking stupid, I mean I’d bet every last one one of them has fucked Tomi or one of the other bikers for pay or for free, but with all the shit in my head it chips away at me pretty damn quick.