by Aaron Riley
The room was pitch black until I flipped the switch. The lights flickered and buzzed, lighting the small space. Nobody was here yet. I was always the last to leave at night and the first to arrive in the morning. We used to have a whole floor in the office building above but the bosses cut the team by ninety percent and exiled what was left down here. I actually liked it more. Less people meant less annoyances.
I sat down in a rigid chair and let the coffee heat my hands. I blew on it before taking another sip. I glanced up at the giant bulletin board that hung on the wall. The Dark Steel Motorcycle Club had eluded us for a long time. They were pretty smart criminals—covering their tracks and never making a mistake.
The pictures of each member formed a sort of pyramid on the board. At the top was the leader, Hammer. Below him were his right-hand men, Maverick and Brendan. At the base of the pyramid were the rest of the members. These were the ones we focused on the most. The less important members were more likely to mess up or turn against the MC. We knew every detail of their lives: who they talked to, who they fucked, where they took their smoke breaks. Folders and folders of small details that were for the most part useless. I had spent years of my life on Dark Steel and I had nothing to show for it.
The beep at the door signaled someone was coming in. I checked my watch that said: 5:30 A.M.
“Good morning, Agent Malarkey,” I said, surprised that he showed up so early.
Malarkey walked in carrying a tray of four Starbucks coffees. He had been with me since the beginning. He was older and more experienced but didn't have the ambition to rise the ranks. He didn't let office politics influence his decisions which made him the perfect partner.
“Coffee, Agent Swift?” he asked.
I raised my own. “Already beat you.”
Malarkey sat down and sighed. He rubbed his eyes and scratched his head.
“Rough night, Malarkey?”
“I didn't get much sleep. I got some intel from my girl at the restaurant last night.”
I quickly grabbed the file on our sources and began flipping through it. “Remind me who that is.”
“Hailey Gutter. She works at The Burger Joint.”
I turned to a photo of her arrest. Her face was contorted in disgust as she held the black sign with her serial number on it. Hailey looked like the usual scum that frequented The Burger Joint—bleached blonde hair and eyes caked in dark makeup.
“I remember now. She's slept with a few of the members in the past. We turned her a year ago when her boyfriend was arrested.”
Malarkey laughed. “Funny thing is, she broke up with her boyfriend soon after that.”
“Yeah but she can't stop talking to us or we'll leak that she's one of our sources to the MC.”
Malarkey blew on his hot coffee. “She doesn't know that we're bluffing. We would never put anyone in danger.”
I skimmed through the rest of her file for anything interesting. “What did you find out from her last night.”
“The MC has a meeting with the Los Diablos set for tomorrow afternoon.” Malarkey grinned.
I leaned towards him, my eyes lighting up. “Do you know what about?”
“The source says that there are rumors buzzing around that Dark Steel is getting out of drugs.”
The synapses in my brain fired off, connecting all the dots. “They wouldn't give their supplier to the Mexicans so they must be telling them that the Blacks are getting it. Which means the Mexicans will be without drugs.”
“Exactly,” Malarkey said, resting his hands behind his head.
“They won't be happy to get that news.”
Malarkey shook his head. “No, not at all.”
I closed the file in front of me. “Okay I want us at the meeting. Get Agent Daniels to trail Los Diablos and you and I will follow Dark Steel. We'll need surveillance equipment and a couple cars. I want us armed and ready for action. This could get messy.”
Malarkey smiled. He lived for this.
And so did I.
Chapter Six
Shawn
My head was in a daze. I couldn't believe that Brendan was taking me out to dinner tonight. My shift at The Ballroom would be over in an hour and Brendan was supposed to pick me up soon. I was so excited that I could barely keep myself from shaking.
I danced on stage, gyrating, closing my eyes and focusing on the image of Brendan. His shirtless chest, strong arms, and open lips made me ooze inside. I wanted to kiss him so badly, to feel his mouth against mine. The crowd cheered at the sight of my oiled chest.
I got down on my knees and thrust my hips right in front of a customer's face. I turned around and crawled towards another customer, giving them all the perfect view of my ass.
The desire to touch myself was building. My face was flushed and my heart was racing. I continued dancing, picturing Brendan holding me tight and never letting me go. I snapped back to reality when the music stopped. The audience erupted with cheers and gave me a standing ovation. I didn't even know what I did up there. I was so distracted with the thought of Brendan.
I went backstage to find Gunner getting ready to go on.
“I just watched you, Shawn. What got into you on stage? I've never seen you like that before.”
I blushed and hid my face. “I don't even know what I was doing.”
“It looked like you were ready to come up there.” Gunner laughed.
My face turned a deeper shade of red. “I think I almost did.”
Gunner continued getting dressed in a waiter outfit. “Well give me whatever drug you're on because I want to feel that.”
Should I tell him about Brendan? There was something about this guy but I barely knew him. “Good luck out there,” I told Gunner as he went out on stage.
I sat down in my seat and realized that cock was still hard. I relaxed and closed my eyes. Brendan was so fucking hot. My body pulsed at just the thought of him.
Joe marched in through the door and interrupted my fantasy. “I don't know what you did out there but it was fantastic, Shawn.”
“Thanks, Joe. I guess I was just in the right mood.”
“Well whatever it was, do it again. You have a gentleman out there requesting a lap dance.”
Could it be Brendan? I checked the clock on the wall and it was almost ten. I smiled and got my game face on. I was going to give him the lap dance of lap dances.
I strutted out into main room and over to the private booths. My heart skipped a beat right before I opened the velvet curtain. And everything fell apart when I saw it was a stranger and not Brendan.
I put my smile back on. Got to focus on all those tips. “Hey sugar, you want a lap dance?”
“Get that hot ass of yours over here.” The customer was large and reeked of alcohol. His eyes were cast in shadow and his grin scared me a little.
“Buckle up then, this is going to be a wild ride,” I replied playfully.
I faced away and planted my butt right on his crotch. He was already hard which wasn't surprising. Most of my customers were before I even started. I rubbed against him, listening to him moan and groan.
He wrapped his hands around me and squeezed my arms I normally didn't care about men touching me or my ass but this felt different. It felt wrong. The man leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “You were so hot on stage. I couldn't stop thinking about that fine ass. I bet your cock is so hard right now.” His hand trailed down my stomach and I swatted him away.
I shook my finger at him. “No no, you're being a bad boy.”
The customer leaned back and smiled. He was really enjoying this. I spun around and straddled him. I buried his face in my abs, rubbing the oil all over his face. Suddenly, he flung me off him and stood up.
His smile turned devious as he looked down at me. “I bet you can't wait to feel my big cock inside you.” He began to unbuckle his belt.
I was calm and collected. I'd been in this situation many times before. Jerome, the bouncer, was only feet away—plus I cou
ld mess this guy up. The customer was drunk and there was no need to cause a scene. I tried reason with him. “Sir, you're drunk and you can't do this.”
The man kept grinning as he pulled down his pants. His prick was small and hard. Not enough meat for any man. I giggled a little and called out for Jerome.
The velvet curtain opened and it wasn't Jerome. It was Brendan. His eyes glanced from the customer's crotch to me sitting helpless in the booth. His eyes filled with fury and his fists clenched into wrecking balls.
I put my hands up to stop him but it was too late. He used the customer as a punching bag, hitting him in the stomach until the customer puked all over the floor. Brendan didn't stop there. He smashed his fist against the guy's face, dislocating his jaw.
Jerome hustled over within seconds and wrapped Brendan in a bear hug. But Brendan was in a blind rage. Nothing could stop him now.
He wrestled with Jerome and I screamed for them to stop. “Jerome, he's my friend!” I called out.
Jerome saw the customer on the floor and realized what happened. He released Brendan and held him at arm's length. “Are you okay, Shawn?”
“Yes, I'm fine,” I replied. “My friend, Brendan, came to my rescue just before things got out of hand. Jerome turned towards Brendan. “I'm sorry I grabbed you. I thought you were the one trying to hurt him.”
The red in Brendan's eyes faded as he breathed in deeply. He nodded to the bouncer who dragged the customer out of the booth. Brendan took my hand and lifted me up. “Are you really okay?” he asked.
I nodded, dusting myself off. “Thanks for protecting me.” My heart was beating more rapidly than before. He still held my hand as he led me out of the booth. His touch was electrifying. We came to the back door that said: Employees Only. “Let me change and I'll be right back.”
Brendan looked concerned and didn't let go of my hand.
I wanted him to hold it all night. “It's okay, Ill be all right.”
Brendan nodded and let go.
I caught his eyes staring into mine as I closed the door.
Steel came running up to me. “Are you okay, Shawn? What happened?”
“A customer got too close. Nothing out of the ordinary,” I told him.
“Thank god, with all the commotion out there, I thought it might have been worse.”
“Relax, I'm fine,” I said. But did I believe it myself?
Steel smiled and went back to fixing his outfit.
I took in a deep breath and found the button-up shirt I brought for the date tonight. I changed out of my skimpy strip-club thong. I slipped the black shirt on and buttoned it up.
Steel rushed over. “Damn Shawn, you look fucking hot.”
“Thanks.” I looked at myself in the mirror and realized that Steel was right—I did look hot. My tight shirt showed off every bulging muscle. I sat down and put on my long leather boots.
“Have a hot date?” Steel winked.
I nodded. I hadn't been on a date since high school. If you could even call that a date. Kyle trying to go down on me before we even started the car wasn't exactly what I thought a date should be.
“You're going to knock his socks off.”
I smiled and hoped that Brendan would feel the same. I brushed my hair and before going back out.
Brendan's smoldering look turned to shock when he saw me dressed. “Shawn, you look fucking amazing.”
A shiver ran through my entire body. How could his words make me feel so sexy and confident?
Brendan bent his elbow out and I took his arm. “Shall we go?”
I stared at him and nodded. I was speechless in his presence.
Jerome apologized to Brendan on the way out and he played it off like it was nothing. We walked through the parking lot, arm-in-arm, and came to his motorcycle. The bike was all black save for some large chrome pipes that ran along the sides.
“What's wrong?” Brendan asked, sensing my fear.
“I've never been on one of these before.”
“It will be a first for both of us. I've never let another guy ride with me before.”
I cocked my head to the side. “Why not?”
Brendan shrugged and kept silent. He was so mysterious which made him damn sexy. Brendan handed me a helmet that was big and bulky while he put on a little bucket that barely covered his skull. “Why do I have to wear the full helmet and you get to wear the small one,” I asked.
“We have to protect that beautiful face of yours.” He knew exactly how to make me melt. I stuffed my head into the tight helmet. It fit perfectly.
Brendan straddled the bike and jerked his head for me to come over. I lifted my leg over and sat down behind Brendan.
Brendan hit a red button and the bike groaned to life. The rumbling between my legs was a sensation I'd never felt before. It was rough and hard but I kind of liked it. I looked around for somewhere to put my hands. Where does the passenger hold on?
Brendan yelled over the roar of the engine. “Wrap your arms around me and hold tight.”
I did as I was told and slipped my hands under his arms, placing them on his chiseled chest. Oh my, this man is built.
Brendan twisted the handle and the bike lurched forward. I hung on tightly as the motorcycle sped away. I looked behind me at the neon Ballroom sign before Brendan banked around a corner. The wind soared through my hair as we cruised through the night. The vibrations between my thighs were exciting and unknown.
Chapter Seven
Brendan
Shawn held onto me for dear life as we weaved in and out of the cars. His hands on me felt so good. If he moved them down just a little lower he'd feel how hard my erection was. At a stoplight, I looked behind me to gauge him but the tinted visor hid his expression. He definitely wasn't trying to run away though.
I was tempted to speed right past the restaurant and ride with him for the rest of the night. I wanted to feel his arms around me forever. I held the brake as I revved the engine of my 2011 Harley-Davidson Forty-Eight, waiting for the light. When it hit green, I released the break and tugged at the throttle. The motorcycle burst forward and Shawn screamed as he dug his fingers into my chest. I chuckled to myself as Shawn shrieked for his life. He'd be moaning my name soon enough.
We arrived at the restaurant that faced a busy street. I parked around the back at the valet. I helped Shawn. I unsnapped the chin strap and set my helmet in front of the bike. Shawn peeled the helmet from his head and he couldn't stop laughing.
“What is it?” I asked. Not the reaction I was expecting after riding a motorcycle for the first time.
Shawn laughed harder and his hair was a mess from the helmet. “That was the most fun I've had in my entire life.” Shawn had a an innocence that hadn't been tainted yet. My innocence was stolen from me when my brother died.
“I'm glad you liked it.” I handed the keys to the valet who looked just as excited as Shawn to ride a motorcycle.
Shawn looked up at the restaurant's sign. “San Giovanni's? Isn't this where all the celebrities go to eat?”
I nodded and led him inside. The restaurant was empty except for the maitre d' and a lone waiter. The place was exceptionally tiny for a restaurant. The entire place only sat around sixteen people. San Giovanni's specialized in ultra-expensive dining so they only needed to fill a few tables a night.
“Good evening, sir,” the maitre d' announced. I smiled and escorted Shawn as we followed him to our table. I pulled the chair out for Shawn and winked. His face lit up as he took his seat. The maitre d' bowed and left us.
“Where is everyone?” Shawn whispered across the table.
I unwrapped my white napkin, set the silverware down, and placed it across my lap. “They're closed.” Shawn looked confused so I elaborated. “We helped the owner out a while back with some fuckers that kept breaking their front window.”
He nodded with his mouth open. I didn't want to tell him too much—we killed the three guys and buried them out in the middle of the desert. Those det
ails could be left secret.
The waiter arrived wearing a black and white outfit with a bow-tie. He handed us two long menus. “The chef is prepared to cook anything you desire.”
I left my menu closed on the table as I stared at Shawn. His eyes were big as he scanned all the items. Most of the menu was in Italian and he tried to mouth the difficult words. “Anything look good?” I asked.
Shawn looked back at me with a look of terror. “Well, I'm having a hard time figuring out what they serve here.”
I laughed and snatched the menu from him. “Do you like chicken?”
Shawn nodded and blushed. What I wouldn't do to make him blush like that all night.
I waved the waiter over and shot a wink to Shawn. “We'll both be getting the Chicken Vesuvio tonight.”
“Excellent choice, sir. Anything to drink?”
I'd kill to have a pint of beer but this place wasn't the type. “Surprise me with a nice bottle of red.”
“Of course.” The waiter bowed and left us.
“What's Vesuvio?” Shawn asked.
“It's a meat cooked in white wine served with potatoes and peas.”
“Sounds delicious. I don't think I've had a really authentic dish from Italy.”
I chuckled. “You'll have to try something else because this meal originated in Chicago.”
Shawn looked fascinated. “How do you know all this stuff? Are you Italian?”
“No, actually my parents are Scottish and Irish. I've just eaten here so much that I've picked up on a few things.”
Shawn fiddled around with the silverware on the table when the waiter came over. He placed two wine glasses in front of us and popped the cork. I stared into Shawn's eyes as he watched with wonder as the waiter expertly poured the wine.
I took a sip of wine and let the alcohol calm my nerves. Why was my body reacting this way to Shawn? He was just another man. Just another guy to bed and forget. But I'd never taken a guy on a “date” before. I didn't want to tell him that this was another first for me.