THE DEVIL’S BABY_The Smoking Vipers MC

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THE DEVIL’S BABY_The Smoking Vipers MC Page 22

by Naomi West


  I slipped my fingers underneath the straps of my dress, working them over my shoulders. Slowly, I pulled it down. Unfortunately, my grace and skill wasn’t quite where I’d have liked them to be, and I wobbled a bit as I brought down the dress over my breasts. I saw Tank smirk as he took a sip of his whiskey. Despite my enthusiasm being higher than it had been when I started, I still felt self-conscious and awkward, and I’m sure it showed in my performance. Still, I kept at it.

  The top of the dress was now below my breasts, my bra exposed. I moved the dress down more and more, swaying my hips as I did. I had a hard time keeping up to the beat of the music, so I decided to just pull the dress of in a quick motion, nearly falling over when I brought it down to my feet. My shoes were caught on the dress as I kicked it off; I still wasn’t quite used to heels.

  Regardless, Tank seemed to be enjoying my performance. I hoped so, since I was now in nothing but my underwear and heels. Well, and the collar. The song continued on, and I moved my hands up along my back to my bra, my fingers slowly working open the hooks. With a quick motion, I undid the bra and removed it, the air of the room cool against my now bare breasts. I moved my hands along my hips once again, bringing them up to my breasts and squeezing my cleavage together, a sly smile on my face as I did.

  I guess now’s the time for the rest, I thought.

  But just as I slid my fingers underneath the waistband of my panties, Tank held up a hand.

  “Stop.”

  I froze in place. Was I doing that badly? Was he bored with me already?

  He turned the music down and rose from his seat.

  Is he going to … sleep with me now? I thought.

  I was feeling better about … all that, but I didn’t think I was ready for things moving that quickly. After all, I was a virgin.

  He walked over to me slowly, his eyes moving up and down my body. Then, like before at the auction house, he grabbed onto my breasts, squeezing them firmly. But this time, he leaned in close, taking my nipple into his mouth. I shivered as he lashed my now-hard nipple with his tongue, the feeling coursing through my body like hot electricity. I took in a sharp breath as he moved from one nipple to the other, his hands kneading my breasts all the while. I felt a tight tension form … down below. Something like an insistent heat. An animalistic part of me was beginning to take over, urging me to surrender to him.

  But instead, he moved his head away from my breasts and stepped back. He took one last look at me and finished his drink.

  “That’s enough for tonight,” he said, setting his drink down on a nearby table. “I want to savor my newest possession.”

  He started off towards the hallway, but stopped in his tracks when he realized that he’d left me standing there half naked.

  “Take one of the extra bedrooms on the third floor. Up the stairs, third door on the right.”

  And just like that, he was gone.

  I stood there for a few minutes, the strangeness of the situation covering me like a heavy blanket. Once I realized that Tank was gone, I made my upstairs to the bedroom he’d told me to go to. It was a huge room, the bed a four-point, comfy-looking thing, the window looking out over the long stretch of the front yard. And right as I stepped over the threshold, the events of the day caught up with me and I found myself with barely the energy to stumble over to the bed before collapsing down on top of it and falling into a deep sleep.

  Chapter Seven

  Tank

  The next morning, I got up early, the sun barely up when my eyes opened. I had a busy fucking day ahead of me and needed to get on it. I took a quick shower and threw on some clothes. On my way down from the third floor, I peeked into the bedroom of my newest purchase to see how she was getting used to things. She was sprawled out on top of the bed, still wearing her dress. I took a quick look over her and saw that she was out like a goddamn light.

  She’d had a wild day yesterday, probably the wildest of her life, so I decided to let her sleep. But as I looked her over, my eyes moving along the curves of her hips and ass, part of me wanted to jostle her awake and give it to her right then and there. But I used some restraint, keeping in mind I could only fuck her for the first time once.

  I made a cup of coffee, not feeling like a real breakfast. Looking over my fancy-ass kitchen, I couldn’t get over the fact that this place was all mine. It was a little ritzy; I could tell that Star was pretty surprised to see that a rough motherfucker like me would have such fancy digs. But I liked it. Maybe a little of the museum-type shit could go, but I liked the rest. It sent a clear message that I was loaded as fuck, and anyone who walked through those doors would know right away that I wasn’t a guy to take lightly.

  Draining the last dregs of my coffee, I headed out the door. An hour on my bike later and I was with the rest of the boys at Razor’s, the dive near Gainesville where the boys and I met up every now and then. Cruiser and the rest of the boys were already there, girls from last night on their arms. The guys looked loaded as shit, most of them probably keeping the partying from last night going. Normally, I would’ve joined them. But I had another deal with Dakin to work out today, and I needed to have a clear head for that. Dakin wasn’t a dude to mess with, and part of me was regretting swiping Star out from under him.

  “There’s the fuckin’ man!” shouted Cruiser, giving the girl he was with a hard squeeze on the ass before coming over to greet me with a slap on the shoulder.

  “You boys have fun last night?” I asked.

  “Sure did, boss,” said Cruiser. “Got these girls good and broken in.”

  “That’s what I like to fuckin’ hear,” I said.

  Cruiser shoved a drink in my hands and I set it down before taking a sip.

  “Come on, man,” said Cruiser. “Let’s keep this party goin’!”

  “The rest of these dudes can party and fuck all day if they want,” I said. “But us bosses don’t get that luxury. You and I gotta meet with Dakin.”

  “Oh, shit,” said Cruiser, slapping himself on the forehead. “I forgot that was today.”

  I swear, sometimes running this crew felt like keeping a kid’s clubhouse in line. Sometimes I wondered what would happen to the Warhawks if I decided to fuck off with all my money someday and just get fat in my new mansion. I loved these guys down to the last man, but they wouldn’t know what the fuck to do with themselves. I’d made Cruiser VP for a reason, but I found myself wishing he’d get his act together and step up to the plate. I wasn’t gonna be around forever, and I’d need someone trustworthy to step into my shoes if I decided to retire. Or if I happened to catch a stray bullet.

  “Get a fuckin’ day planner—I can’t have you missing this shit.”

  “Sorry, sorry,” he said, draining the last of his beer.

  He turned to the rest of the crew.

  “All right, you motherfuckers! Boss and I are gonna go take care of some shit. Keep this party going ‘till we get back!”

  The crew roared in agreement. Cruiser gave his girl one last ass squeeze before we were out.

  Checking my watch as we headed to our bikes, I saw that we were making good time. Dakin was a smart motherfucker and pretty reliable. But he had a temper as wild as his mind was sharp and had a real stick up his ass for punctuality. The Warhawks were too powerful for him to do anything too crazy if I rolled up late, but I didn’t feel like seeing him flip out.

  Cruiser and I hit the road, and about a half hour later we were at the designated meeting place, which was some abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere between Orlando and Gainesville. Dakin some other boys in his crew were there waiting for us. A van nearby held the merchandise and I was in a buying mood. The Warhawks had been making money hand over fist doing these gun-running operations for Dakin, and I was ready to make some more hard cash.

  “There’s the man of the fuckin’ hour,” said Dakin, his hair wild around a pair of eyes that were locked onto me from the moment I rode up.

  “What’s new, my man?” I as
ked, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.

  His grip was firm—maybe too firm. I wondered if something was up. Was he sore about me buying Star out from under him?

  “How’s that piece of yours?” he asked.

  “Good, man,” I said. “Expensive as shit, but good.”

  “Can’t put a price on premium pussy like that,” he said, his tone hard-edged.

  “I sure as shit can; my account’s a half-mil lighter.”

  “You know, I really had my eye on that bitch,” said Dakin.

  “Sorry, my man,” I said. “Maybe I’ll let you take a crack at her some time.”

  Imagining letting Dakin fuck a girl of mine was enough to make my stomach a little queasy. But I needed to say something to calm his ass down; he seemed a little more peeved than I was anticipating. A moment hung in the air, and I wondered if Dakin was going to have one of his trademark flip-outs. He was ice-cold ninety-nine percent of the time, and a murderous wild man the other one percent. I hadn’t seen him go nuts in person, but I’d heard some pretty gnarly stories.

  “Fuckin’ funny seeing that chick again,” said Dakin.

  “What?”

  I had no idea what he meant by that, and my tone reflected it.

  “You know that house I bought? The one I got on the cheap? It was her fuckin’ place.”

  “No shit?” I said.

  What a goddamn coincidence.

  “Yep. I was about ready to claim her with the rest of the shit in that place, but she got out right from under my nose.”

  “Small world,” I said, not sure of what to do with this new information; did this mean that Dakin thought she was already his or something?

  The air was tense, and I wondered if Dakin really wasn’t going to let this go. He stared at me hard, and I looked at him right back. I got the sense he was trying to see if I was gonna back down. Not a chance of that. We held eyes for another long series of minutes, and right at the moment I was sure he was gonna pull out his piece and light me up, he broke out into wild laughter.

  “That’s right!” he said, a big smile on his face. “Small fuckin’ world.”

  He turned towards the van, now ready to show off the goods.

  “Have fun with that one,” he said, putting his hands on the door handles. “She looks like the type you can get trained real nice. Have her workin’ your pole at the snap of your fingers.”

  To make his point, he snapped his fingers in the air, the sound a sharp pop. He seemed to have moved on, but I got the sense that this particular subject wasn’t put to bed just yet.

  “Got some good, good shit for you, my man.”

  He pulled the doors open, revealing a van packed full of all kinds of guns. Cruiser whistled as he looked the merchandise over.

  “Hot damn!” he shouted, slapping his hands on his thighs. “Enough guns here to take over the goddamn state!”

  I stepped to his side. He wasn’t lying—there were a shitload of guns there. Assault rifles, handguns, explosives—you name it, it was there. All unregistered. Probably a couple mil worth of weapons, and all goods that could be easily sold throughout the state.

  “Same deal as before?” I asked.

  “Yup,” said Dakin. “You buy ’em from me and do with ’em whatever the fuck you want.”

  I stepped into the van and picked up one of the assault rifles. It was good stuff—military hardware that Dakin had probably gotten from some ex-Soviet bloc countries. I had no idea how he’d managed to get this shit into the country, but I was glad for it. And it was a good racket: once he got it in, his job was done. I’d just buy the goods and get my boys to distribute it. The arms merchants overseas got paid, Dakin got paid, and my boys and I got paid—money all around.

  I was already adding up how much money I’d make from this cache; it’d likely be more than enough to sock away and ensure that I’d have a real comfy retirement to look forward to whenever I decided to get out of the game. And with my properties all sorted out, I could filter the cash through them.

  “Done,” I said.

  “But not yet,” said Dakin.

  “Huh?” I asked.

  This was strange—before, Dakin had been all too eager to get the goods off his hands.

  “I still haven’t figured out just how much I’m gonna charge you. Still thinkin’ that one over.”

  “Then why’d you have me come all the way out here? Just to say ‘hi’?”

  A little smirk formed on Dakin’s lips.

  “Just wanted to, you know, gauge your interest. Don’t worry—once I get this shit all appraised by my guy I’ll have you right on the line.”

  I didn’t like this shit one bit. Dakin should’ve had this all sorted out beforehand. Something was up.

  “‘Till then,” said Dakin, turning and heading back to his bike.

  He snapped his fingers in the air and the rest of his crew hopped on their rides and peeled out. Less than a minute later, all that remained of Dakin and his crew was the dust that the bikes and the van had kicked up into the air.

  “I got a bad feeling about this,” said Cruiser, swatting the dust away.

  I didn’t say so, but the feeling was more than mutual.

  Chapter Eight

  Star

  I screamed a little when I woke up. I couldn’t help it; as soon as my eyes opened and I saw that I was in some strange bedroom in some even stranger man’s home, fear gripped me. I looked around, seeing that I was alone. Once I realized that I wasn’t in any danger, I allowed myself to calm. Slowly, my heartrate slowed, and as I took in deep breath after deep breath, I took stock of my situation.

  So, I thought, looking around, I’m in the extremely fancy home of some biker dude. He paid a half million for me, and I now belong to him.

  The words felt strange, even as I thought them.

  At least I’m not sleeping in some cheap motel, I thought, noting that the bed I was in was extremely comfortable.

  I rolled out of bed and walked to the windows. Pulling back the curtains, bright light streaming into the room, I looked out as far as I could. Sure enough, there wasn’t another house in sight. The road from the house disappeared off into the distance, and thick Everglades woods surrounded the rest of the property. I half expected the windows to have bars on them, but if the house was as isolated as Tank had said it was, there was really no need for them. Walking out into the Everglades was an easy way to get chewed up by a gator, and God knew how long it’d take to get out of here just walking down the road.

  I reached up, my fingers wrapping around the collar that Tank had put on me. Part of me wanted to undo the thing and toss it into the corner, sending a clear message to Tank just what I thought of his “ownership” of me. But another part, a part that was unfamiliar to me, the part that enjoyed the little show I’d put on him, said something different. This odd part of me wanted me to keep it on, to not fight, to just settle into my new role as Tank’s property.

  I shook my head, dismissing the voice. I decided to leave the collar on—after all, I did have a place to stay for now, and though the circumstances were less than ideal, this was a mansion where every need I had would be taken care of. For now, it’d do. I looked at a nearby clock and saw that it was a little after ten.

  The bedroom had an attached bathroom, and upon entering it I saw that it was just as luxurious as the rest of the place. The floors were cool marble, and gold ornamentation adorned the walls. And best of all, there was a massive tub right in the center of the room. Looking around, I realized that this bathroom was probably about a fifth of the size of the house where I’d lived.

  I knew that I should’ve been plotting my escape, but a bath sounded so damn nice. And after last night, I figured that I was in need of some relaxation. So I turned on the faucet and let the tub fill up with hot, steaming water. Once it was full, I slid into the water, the tension flowing from my muscles with each passing second. A large mirror covered one of the walls of the bathroom, and out of th
e corner of my eye, I spotted my reflection, noting that I still had the collar on.

  Now I really need to take it off, I thought, reaching up to grab it.

  But again, I stopped. I held it tight, feeling the smooth leather against my fingers. I wanted to leave it on, but I realized that getting the collar soaked with water probably wasn’t the best idea. I took it off quickly, dunking my head under the water as fast as possible. Once I was back up, I washed my hair, dried my neck, and put the collar back on as soon as I could. I was again surprised at my own behavior; it was like I felt guilty for having the thing off.

  After a time, I got out of the tub and dried off using the unbelievably soft towels that were in the bathroom. Once I stepped into the bedroom, however, I realized that I didn’t have a thing to wear. The teddy from last night was draped over the back of a nearby chair, but I really didn’t want to put that on again.

 

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