by J Bree
Except he doesn't.
No, he keeps going. He lays there on his childhood bed and pushes me over the edge three, four, five times until I'm gushing all over the sheets and his face is dripping with my arousal.
My brain is broken.
He sits up and I'm expecting him to get up and leave, or tell me something fucking awful about myself that'll ruin this whole thing, but he doesn't.
He sticks his fingers inside me.
The last ripples of pleasure evaporate and panic drenches my entire body, the sweat turning cold and my body clenches up for an entirely different reason.
His eyes are hot on mine as he freezes, his fingers slowly slipping out of me but the damage is done. My heart is beating so hard it feels like it’s trying to pound right out of my chest.
“I can’t,” I croak, and his brows draw down low.
“Why?”
I don’t have an answer for that. Not without breaking open my ribcage and exposing all of the damage that’s been done to my soul. He’s gorgeous and he’s strong and he’s loyal to his family.
And I’m a piece of trash, gutter-rat stripper with trauma by the bucket load.
“Could… could I have a shirt? Just to get down to my car?” I whisper, and the frown on his face gets darker, more malevolent. Tears fill my eyes but I blink them away.
He pushes up off of the bed and strips off his own shirt, throwing it at me. “Get the fuck out. Just get out and quit wasting my fucking time, Angel.”
Chapter Sixteen
Tomi
I swear I can taste the sweet honey of Angel’s cum in the back of my tongue for days after I ate her out on my childhood bed.
Every morning I wake up, hard as stone and leaking on my sheets. The image of Angel’s lips wrapped around my cock as I fuck her mouth is the only thing I see when I shut my eyes. Fuck, this ‘struck shit is hardcore. I can’t stop thinking about her and I just get angrier and angrier the more I think about it.
She’s a fucking stripper.
She flinched away from me, but only after she’d given me the blowjob of my life. No way the girl hasn’t gone pro before, that was too skilled to be an amateur.
Twice she’s fucking flinched.
It doesn't matter how hard I try to cut the fucking ties, I still find myself pulled back to The Boulevard. With Speck busy dealing with rat business I lose my set of eyes on Angel and I’ll be fucked if I’m leaving her without someone tailing her.
My time there is justified because the books are a fucking mess.
No matter how much I try to clean them up, nothing ever adds up and I fucking curse myself out for letting people who barely know how to count touch them.
So no matter how much I want to sit out in my booth and stab any fucker that looks at Angel, I stick to the office and sift through the accounts and the piles of invoices with only a bottle of whiskey and a bad mood to keep me company.
It’s a little after two when there's a quiet knock at the door and a pause.
No one knocks like that around here.
I call out and when the door opens Angel scurries inside, stripper heels and nothing much else on.
She doesn't walk around here in her getups. Not ever, she always puts clothes on between dances. The other girls give her shit for it but she always does it. We also haven’t spoken since the pool incident, she hasn’t once so much as tried to look at me and now she’s scrambling into my office like the hounds of hell are on her ass?
Alarms bells start sounding.
"What's happened?"
She walks right over to me behind the desk, bypassing the chair entirely, and if she wasn't shaking so hard her teeth are chattering I'd think she was coming here to ride my dick.
"Angel, what the fuck happened?"
A weird noise starts up outta her throat, like a high-pitch keening, and my patience snaps. I stand and tug her into my arms, getting my shit covered in Mel's goddamn glitter, and I push her into my chest, banding my arms around her and squeeze a little.
The keening stops but her words come out in a series of little gasps. “Are— I mean, do those other bikers belong to the Unseen? I haven't... seen them here before."
Fuck's sake.
The Shreveport charter are in town and I know who the hell she's talking about without another word which is good because she’s being so damn hesitant. "What did he do? Angel, what the fuck did he do?”
She looks up at me, her eyes all electrified with terror, and fury sweeps over me.
I don't fucking care if I'm cuntstruck, no fucking way am I letting someone scare her like this. She’s mine. Whether that’s the biggest fucking tragedy of my life, that changes nothing. She’s mine and no asshole is going to fucking touch what’s mine.
“It was the big one, I don't know what his name is, he came up to me when I was trying to leave the stage. Told me he'd see me back at the clubhouse tonight. I told him I don't do extra and he said I belong to the club so he'd fuck me if he wanted to. Tomi, I'm not—"
"No, you're fucking not. Go get your clothes on, take a shower, whatever you do between sets. I'll sort this out, don't even think about it anymore. Stop fucking shaking, Angel, I'll take care of him."
She takes this deep gulping breath that damn near takes my knees out but after another one she pulls away from me, her hands on my chest as she pulls away. They linger there like she doesn’t want to let go of me.
Two things set like stone in my head.
I’m fucked over this girl.
And Diego is fucking dead for scaring her like this.
I walk her out of my office, all the way over to the locker room and I wait until she’s locked in the bathroom there before I stalk back out to the bar.
I will kill that cunt.
I take a seat at the bar where I can watch Diego and what he’s doing at the front of the stage. There’s enough of the Shreveport charter here that I need to cool my fucking jets. I’m a good fighter but probably not good enough to take on sixteen men in public.
I need to call Rue down here now.
Two against sixteen is doable.
The minute she gets an eyeful of me Diamond huffs and shakes her head. "I told you having her here is a problem. You should tell your cousin to stop thinking with his dick and inviting trouble in all our lives.”
I give the jealous bitch a look and I watch as she gulps and scurries away. Just because I'm the friendlier Callaghan doesn't mean she can tell me what the fuck to do and from the moment Angel ‘struck me I’ve been on edge.
Diego is laughing and doing shots with a couple of the other Shreveport brothers. Luis is too busy talking business with Hell to give a shit about the girls or what his asshole son is getting up to.
Too bad.
Mighta saved Diego from getting his asshole torn open because I'm about to fucking ream him. If my threats aren't enough I'll actually gut him. I'm not in the mood for his bullshit and the only thing stopping me from walking over there and slamming his face onto the table until his nose shatters is knowing just how fucking persistant the cunt can be.
His obsession with Poe has everything to do with Rue and nothing to do with the kid herself.
So I can't show my hand here or I'll be dealing with a bigger problem. Fuck, his constant stalking of Posey when he's in town is beyond annoying, it's enough to know that someday I'll be helping Rue bury his body somewhere because Diego can't help himself. One day he'll strike and on that day, he'll be fucking dead.
The curse is a fucking powerful thing.
And my lovestruck cousin isn't going to fucking stop until Poe is safe, happy, and his. The kid just has to grow the fuck up first.
"Jesus. She came to you?" Speck says as he slides onto the barstool next to mine.
I nod and he grunts at me, "You might actually be winning her over."
I side-eye him as I take a sip. "Why would you think that?"
"Well, she came to you and not me. That's a first. She also didn't run screaming ou
tta here and after what he said, that's what I thought would happen."
I set the glass down. "He touch her? Did he do anything except talk to her?"
He shakes his head. "One of the guys stopped him from following her onto the stage. Shoulda fucking known he'd be obsessed with her, it's like he knows when a woman belongs to a Callaghan."
It's the first time he's said that and my hackles haven't gone up.
She does belong to me. One way or another.
"I want to see what he does when she comes back out. I'll talk to him once I see it with my own two eyes."
Speck groans. "Should I call Rue and let him know we're starting a war here tonight? Just to warn him? Because you'll kill him. Fuck, I nearly killed him and she ain't even mine."
The rage in my system starts pumping until I'm sure it's replaced all of the blood in my system and now I'm fucking itching to beat the life outta that piece of trash. Nothing but a fucking clown, talks himself up but doesn't actually pull his fucking weight. He knows he's on the path for being president when Luis steps down but only because of his blood.
Fuck, I'm going to be on the Council someday because of my blood but I have done everything for my club. I went to fucking college and dealt with dumbass frat boys and bimbo sorority girls who wanted a taste of the dirty biker life before they married some fucking suit. I've always thought long-term and not about how shit makes me look. I couldn't give a fuck about looking like some dangerous biker... I'm too busy being one.
The song changes and my attention shifts back to the stage as Angel walks out and the nerves are right there in every fucking line of that body of hers. She's practically vibrating with it and there goes my fucking control.
I stalk forward ready to reach down Diego's fucking throat and yank his spine out, but when Angel sees me coming something calms in her and the shaking stops.
Fuck if that doesn’t change something.
Hell, she might have flinched at me twice now but she’s still coming back for more. That has to count for something.
I decide right then and there that I want it to count for something.
Diego starts calling out at her and I wave Speck off when he starts cussing him out under his breath. I’m calm now, I’m thinking clearly and I know what I need to do.
“Don’t call him. I’ve got this under control.”
I motion at Mike to get him to bring Diego over to me. I’m not walking over to the cunt, he’s in my fucking bar.
Diego frowns and tries to snarl at Mike, only stopping himself from taking a swing at the bouncer when he looks up and sees me. He stalks over to me with a snarl on his ugly fucking mug.
“The fuck do you want, Callaghan? I’m trying to enjoy the show.”
I take a sip of my drink, all fucking casual, and say, “You’re welcome to enjoy the show but if you try to put your hands on one of my girls again you’ll be answering to me. You’re not going to enjoy that shit either.”
His lip curls up even more at me. “Who the fuck do you think you are, telling me what to do? She’s club property. I’ll fuck her if I want to.”
Over my dead body will this cunt touch her. “This is your last warning about my girls. That one dancing up there, you hurt her or scare her off? That's the income of this place cut in half. Means the extra cash we put through starts looking suspicious and it affects the club. You stay the fuck away from her or I'll be fucking dealing with you."
His face shifts, the disdain for me and my club clear, because he doesn't fucking deal with being told no. Not ever, he throws the spoiled fucking biker version of a tantrum.
Shedding blood and fucking with business.
"If she's dancing here she belongs to the club."
My jaw tightens and I take a step in towards him, ready to just fucking kill him and be done with it. Fuck, Luis would never forgive the club and it'd be war but fuck would it be worth it. Speak of the devil, he's heading towards us with a frown at the murder on my face.
"She belongs to the Coldstone charter. You touch her and you answer to us. Nothing your daddy can do to save you."
Luis stops at Diego's side and tips his head to me. "He'll leave her alone. Plenty of pussy for him to chase that isn't your money maker."
I nod at him and jerk my head towards Diamond at the bar. "All the other girls do extra, for fee or free, for the club. I'm not forcing our money maker and fucking with my business."
Reiterating to cover my ass because Diego is still eyeballing Angel and I'm going to rip his throat out with my bare fucking teeth like a savage if he doesn't quit it.
Luis nods and claps Diego on the back, "Plenty of hot pussy around for you to have, son. If she ain't playing then leave her be."
Diego's lip curls at me but I walk away from them both and find a seat in the front fucking row to watch the rest of Angel's dance.
Her eyes meet mine and her body goes from that smooth and fluid way she dances to languid and liquid, like molten fire trapped in the most fucking sexy body that’s ever existed.
The men around us quieten down a little and I know if I break her eye contact I’ll see them all taking notice of the change in her from hot piece of ass to a fucking siren, a fucking nymph out here trying to put every man in here under her spell.
It’s working too.
A slow blush starts on her cheeks as her hips ride that fucking pole, the bump and grind of it has my cock leaking in my jeans.
I’ve sold my soul to a stripper.
I’m not even angry about it anymore.
Chapter Seventeen
Angel
My college classes really start kicking my ass.
It’s a hard pill to swallow because I’ve always been so damn good with my classes, I got my GED at sixteen and never found this stuff hard, but I guess with the small amount of sleep I keep finding myself existing on my brain just doesn’t have enough time to recover and function properly.
If that isn’t bad enough the noise the Chevy keeps making just gets worse and worse until I have to face the facts. If I don’t get it looked at soon the damage might end up irreparable. It’s an old classic but, more than that, it’s a piece of my dad and not something I could ever bear to lose.
I count some money out from the stash in my bag. I haven’t counted it in so long that it’s kind of a shock to see how much is really sitting in there, I really should get around to counting it and making a plan on how the fuck I can deposit it into a bank.
I need to do that to be able to buy a house.
I pull one of my dad’s old sweaters on to cover up a little before I drive over to the garage in town. There’s technically two, but the other one is across the street from the clubhouse and I don’t want to get in Tomi’s way by being on that side of town. He told me to stop wasting his time so… I guess that’s what I’m trying to do.
Half an hour later and I know I’m kind of screwed.
The guys there had been so freaking rude to me. They’ve all obviously seen me dance at The Boulevard and when I stumble over my words, explaining a sound to guys in an enclosed space when you’re touch-phobic and generally cautious around men is fucking hard. They all crack jokes about my ass and tits, and how my boyfriend should be able to fix this shit for me.
I nod along like their words don’t piss me off because there’s nothing I can do about it.
Except that when they give me a price it’s a week’s worth of tips for me. My eyebrows shoot to my hairline but the guy just shrugs at me.
“We both know you can afford it. Don’t walk in here being a cheap little hussy.”
My stomach drops and I walk out to the sound of them all laughing. It’s not like I can’t afford it but… fuck, I don’t want to be put a week behind in my plans. I already feel like the walls are closing in on me, every other day I’m getting catcalled leaving the club or having some guy trying to climb on stage after me.
I need to get out of there.
I arrive to work with my head in the fucking cl
ouds, freaking the hell out about what I’m gonna do about my car, and I make it through my first dance in a fucking daze.
There’s a two-hour break between my sets so I throw clothes back on and sit in the locker room, chewing my lip and staring off into space while I try to figure out if I can make it work.
If I don’t get my truck fixed now and it blows up, I’m fucked.
I could buy a new car to get me through… but where would I leave the old Chevy until I got my house? Are there any costs I could cut to cover the mechanic bill without losing a week’s tips?
I want to throw up by the time Poe and Law find me sitting there.
“Oh shit, did someone try to touch you again? You’d think the dumbasses would learn.”
I glance up and smile at her, quirking an eyebrow at them both. “What are you two doing wandering around here? Rue’ll be pissed if he finds you out here, Poe.”
She shrugs and slings herself down on the bench next to me. Law sits down on the other side of her, huffing a little. “Law’s on babysitting duty tonight. I tried to go out to a movie with a guy from school, didn’t end well.”
I glance over at her. “Really? What happened?”
Law scoffs at her and makes an oof noise when she elbows him in the gut. “He stood me up. I think I’m turning into a fucking leper. No one wants to be within a fucking mile of me and it’s making me fucking cranky. Maybe I’ll move to the Bay with my sister. She has better luck with guys over there.”
Law winces and I give him a look. So he’s in on this little secret of Rue’s. I wonder if the biker is the real reason guys give Poe a wide berth. I don’t blame them, he’s kind of… terrifying.
That shit runs in the family.
“Anyway, I called Law to come get me because Rue yelled at me for going in the first place and Trink is still… pissed off or whatever. Then I sweet talked him into bringing me here to see you! I feel like you’re a fucking ghost half the time. Impossible to fucking find unless you’re working.”
I shrug. “Sorry, I’ve been busy. My car’s still fucking up so I took it to the garage in town and now I’m freaking the hell out about paying for the fucking thing.”