I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. “Why are you telling me this… that you own a sex club? It has nothing to do with me.”
“It does,” he says as his eyes cut downward to his lap briefly. It’s an action I recognize… shame. “It’s how I know Zeke.”
“What?” I gasp.
His eyes snap back up to mine, and they’re filled with resolution. “I was introduced to Zeke by a mutual acquaintance, and I was subsequently invited to some parties out at the compound. I went a few times… met Kyle and got to know some of the other guys as well. I performed some services… for Zeke and Kayla.”
“Services?” I ask, my throat tightening up with apprehension.
“BDSM,” he says. “Zeke had me do things to Kayla while he watched.”
“What kind of things?” I rasp out, not wanting to know but needing to desperately. He’s talking about things of a sexual nature and while he’s maintained to me all along he’s not friends with Zeke, I’m sorry… but sex is personal and I’m starting to feel my spider senses tingle with fear.
Bridger’s eyes hold mine captive. “Kayla gets off on pain. So I give it to her. Usually with a whip, sometimes with a cane. I’d hurt her until she came, and then Zeke would fuck her.”
“Did you—” I start to say, but my voice cracks. I clear my throat, start again. “Did you fuck her?”
“Never,” he says forcefully. “Not once.”
“Zeke?”
“No, Maggie.” Bridger growls with frustration and launches off the couch. He steps past the coffee table, heading toward the door where he peels the blinds back and peeks outside. I’m not sure what he expects to see, but he quickly turns back to me. “You don’t understand… I don’t get off on handing out the pain. Not in a sexual way. They pay me money to deliver it, and I accept it. It’s what I do, that’s all.”
“It’s what you do?” I inquire stupidly, because I’m more confused than ever now.
“I have to do it,” Bridger says quietly. “It’s who I am.”
I shake my head, look down briefly at my hands clasped in my lap, and then back up to him. “I don’t understand.”
“Join the club,” he mutters as he walks back toward me. Rather than taking the couch, he sits down on the coffee table and reaches out. His hands cover and engulf mine, holding them protectively. “I owe Zeke a favor. He’s summoned me out to the club tomorrow night.”
“To service Kayla?” I ask with quiet dejection as my eyes fall down to his hands covering mine.
“I don’t think so,” he says softly. That makes me look back up, because I hear relief in his voice. “He gave up one of his club members a while back who attacked a friend of mine. Turned him over to the police. That’s the favor I owe him. In the past, he told me he wants me to come out and put on a show for the other members with some of the club girls.”
I nod, but I still don’t understand. I mean… I get what Bridger is saying and I’m clear on what he’s done in the past. I guess what I don’t understand is if he still intends to protect me or not. So I ask the question I’m dreading the answer to. “So… are you going to turn me over to him?”
“For fuck’s sake, Maggie,” Bridger practically barks at me, his hands tightening on mine almost painfully. “Didn’t I tell you I’d protect you?”
His eyes flash with fury, and there’s no doubt he’s pissed over my lack of faith in him.
“I’m sorry… I just… you threw me for a loop, Bridger. And what am I supposed to think? Doing sexual… um… things to someone… for someone… well, that’s sort of a personal relationship. You also owe Zeke a favor. Why not turn me over to him and collect on your favor?”
“Because I’m telling you I wouldn’t ever do that,” he growls at me. “I will protect you.”
God, can I believe him?
I want to believe him so much because I don’t want to give up this safety I’ve been feeling. I don’t want to lose the hope I’ve started to foster that I’ll get Belle back as soon as Kyle takes Zeke down.
I’m not ready to give up… Bridger?
I mean, damn it… he caught me masturbating to fantasies of him, advised me he wasn’t gay, which seem to make the fantasies okay now, and then proceeded to tell me he whips Kayla while Zeke watches. I’m appalled and turned on all at the same time.
I’m so fucking confused. “I’m sorry. I’m just a bit stressed over everything.”
Some of the heat dies down in his eyes, but he still looks at me with chastisement. “I’ve got to go tomorrow night so I don’t arouse suspicion, but I’m hoping I can use it as an opportunity to talk to Kyle… see what’s happening. I’m hoping to get some information at the very least that will clue us in on what we need to do next.”
I look at him directly in the eye, and I see determination to help me. I can see it sitting there with stubborn refusal to accept anything less than my absolute protection, and God help me… it makes me want to kiss him.
“Tomorrow night…when I go to the compound,” Bridger says, his thumb now stroking the back of my hand. “I’m going to have a friend come stay with you.”
“Do you think that’s necessary?” I ask with worry.
“Probably not,” he assures me. “But in the very off chance Zeke knows you’re here and he’s doing this to lead me away, I want someone looking over you and willing to protect you in my absence.”
I nod, because what else can I do but accept this? I don’t want to die, and I sure as hell don’t want to go back to the compound with Zeke.
Then Bridger surprises the shit out of me when he leans forward and gives me a quick kiss on my forehead. His lips are warm and dry… soft and gentle. It’s a sweet move on his part, but it’s sexy to me.
Bridger pulls away and stands up, refusing to look at me as he turns toward the hallway. “I’m headed to bed.”
I don’t want him to go. I want him to stay and continue to talk to me. I want him to kiss me again, this time on my mouth, maybe my breasts, and then on my—
“Bridger?” I call out to him, wincing internally at the desperate tone in my voice. It reeks of a pitiful need I have but that I really have no business asking him to fill.
He stops but doesn’t turn back to me, his head bowed downward. “Don’t.”
“But—”
“We can’t,” he says firmly, still refusing to look me in the eye while he denies me.
And without another word, he disappears from sight.
Chapter 7
Bridger
I enter the front door of the main building of the compound, assaulted by loud music, smoke, and the cacophony of drunk bikers partying. It’s the last place on this earth I want to be, but it has to be done.
Woolf came over to stay with Maggie at my house tonight while I do my thing. I told him about her when I was at his ranch the day before, not because I thought I’d need his help to watch over her, but because I didn’t keep many secrets from Woolf and I trusted his wisdom. I thought I had a good handle on the situation, but I wanted to know if he would see things different than I was.
Not surprisingly, he felt I was doing the right thing and volunteered to help in any way he could. One way he suggested was going to Kyle’s sister, Andrea. I’d met her briefly when Woolf’s brother, Tenn, got married on the ranch. Tenn knows Kyle, probably better than I do as he had Kyle do some work on his bike. They once rode cross-country together as Kyle wanted to visit Andrea, who lived in the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Andrea used to be an FBI agent. Woolf surmised that maybe Andrea knew about Kyle’s undercover operation and could help us get word to the ATF about Maggie and Belle. Maybe they could even put Maggie in protective custody until Kyle could finish his bust, but I really didn’t like that idea because I didn’t want Maggie to leave.
Which is fucking stupid because I owe her nothing. I shouldn’t be overly concerned with her protection if it can be gotten from a better source.
Still, I declined Woolf’s offer by reaso
ning there was a chance Andrea didn’t know about Kyle’s undercover work and that it was something he should tell her and not us. He seemed to buy it and agreed. Turning down his offer certainly had nothing to do with the fact I liked Maggie in my house more and more every day.
The main building of the compound houses a large room on the first floor that has a built-in bar, several pool tables, and various pieces of furniture for members to sit on. The second floor houses bedrooms for club members to sleep or fuck in, and I know this because that’s where Zeke had me perform with Kayla before.
Hitching the strap of my tool bag higher over my shoulder, I wind my way in and out of the partiers. Big, burly men with sweat-stained shirts, worn leather cuts, and reeking of booze and pot. Trashy-looking women in miniscule clothing and garish makeup holding on to said sweaty men in an effort to perhaps elevate from club whore to old lady. Other women, slightly less trashy looking, stand in small pockets talking to each other, without the need to command the bikers’ attention. Those are the old ladies who’ve already captured the interests they wanted.
I nod at a few of the members I recognize, pushing my way to the bar. I surreptitiously sweep my gaze around, looking mainly for Kyle but also keeping a lookout for Zeke. I’m handed a beer from a woman behind the bar whose face is pockmarked and teeth rotted from meth, and take a sip before turning around to peruse the situation.
My gaze first lands on Kayla, standing with a few other old ladies near one of the pool tables with a cue stick in her hand. Even across the room, I can see the vicious bruise she’s sporting around her right eye and cheekbone, and there’s no doubt in my mind Zeke handed that out to her. If I had to put money on it, I’d bet he was not happy to have returned and found Maggie missing. He probably took it out on her. Not the first time I’d seen bruises on her. Hell, I’d put bruises on her at his direction.
Sweeping my eyes past her, I see Kyle walking in from the door that leads out back where I know the party will be raging around a huge bonfire. He looks at me, our eyes connecting for just a moment, and then he looks right past me. I watch as he walks over to a woman sitting on a low-slung couch that is probably stained heavy from beer and cum. He reaches down to grab her hand and then leads her up the staircase to the second floor. His message is clear. To everyone else in the room who may have watched, he’s going to fuck this woman. To me, his immediate brush-off said he didn’t want to talk to me. I have to assume he doesn’t want to risk anything at this time.
A hand claps me on the shoulder, and I turn to see Zeke standing there. He’s an average-built man standing at about five-ten or so, which has me looking down at him as I top him by several inches. Not too muscular but not skinny either. I’d guess he’s in his late forties, early fifties, but it’s hard to tell. His face is haggard and his dark, braided ponytail is streaked with silver, as is his beard. I’ve always thought his eyes were ice cold despite being a warm brown, and the thing that makes him somewhat intimidating is that they are filled with intelligence. He doesn’t rule just with brute force, but he does so using his brain, which makes him a formidable opponent even though I could probably whip his ass with one arm tied behind my back.
“Right on time,” he says gruffly, and then turns from me as he puts his forefinger and thumb in his mouth, giving a shrill whistle that’s heard by everyone above the music. They all turn to the sound, but Zeke’s eyes are pinned to a woman across the room who is sitting on a biker’s lap. His hand is massaging her breast. She makes eye contact with Zeke, and he jerks his head for her to come to him.
Everyone else goes back to partying. When the woman comes to stand before Zeke, I feel the salaciousness vibrating off her. Her eyes are filled with a pathetic need to be recognized by Zeke.
“What’s up, baby?” she purrs, stepping into Zeke and putting her hand on his crotch to rub him.
Zeke tilts his head to me. “This is Bridger. I want you to do whatever he tells you to do.”
My skin tightens with unease. “Need her full consent,” I tell Zeke pointedly, and we engage in a bit of a staring war. He wants to prove his dick is big enough to order a woman to let me whip her and that she’ll do it with a smile on her face. But I don’t back down, refusing to break eye contact or move until I have her full consent.
Zeke finally turns to the woman and says, “Bridger is going to put on a show with you for the boys. It will probably involve a whip. Most definitely is going to hurt. He might fuck you or have one of the boys fuck you. Could be in any hole you got. Could be multiple guys. Now do me a fucking favor… tell him you consent.”
The woman turns to me. I note with a measure of relief that her eyes are clear and she appears lucid. She smiles at me. I’m surprised that it’s a pretty smile with straight, even teeth that tells me she had braces in the past. “Darlin’… I’ll take anything you throw at me. Make it hurt good.”
“I’ll give you a safe word—” I start to say, but she shakes her head in denial.
“I don’t need a safe word,” she says, sliding a brave look toward Zeke, who she’s clearly trying to impress.
“You’ll have one or I walk out of here,” I growl at them both, and Zeke laughs.
“Fine,” she huffs, looking extremely disappointed I won’t let her shine in front of Zeke. “What’s my word?”
“Let’s go with ‘stop’,” I tell her with an incline of my head. “It works universally.”
“But that’s so ordinary,” she huffs.
“And yet, it works just fine,” I point out and take her by the elbow. “Just don’t say it unless you mean it.”
*
I never did find out her name, but the woman Zeke thrust upon me to do a show is a true champ in every sense of the word. Even now, she continues to take it even though my part is long done. I didn’t do anything all that unusual. Well, at least not unusual for me, but by the hormones and lust permeating this place right now, I’m guessing most here have never seen the likes.
I used a cue stick as a spreader bar, tying her ankles securely toward the ends so she was splayed open. I then bent her over the end of one of the pool tables, tied her wrists together with rope, and secured them to the legs at the opposite end. She couldn’t move and she couldn’t escape, the only thing saving her from my flogger was the word ‘stop’.
She used many words as I landed blows against her tan skin, but ‘stop’ was never one of them. We drew a crowd all tightly packed in a circle around the pool table three men deep, the women all seeming to melt away who either didn’t want to watch or were too jealous over the attention the girl was getting. I especially noticed that Kayla walked outside as I was tying the woman up. Not five minutes into my performance, one guy crawled onto the pool table and made her suck his dick. It was comical watching him trying to get his pants down enough, while figuring out how to get his dick within reach of her mouth since she was stretched flat against the felted surface with no wiggle room. Even funnier was watching his head knocking against the pool table light as he contorted his body into a painful-looking position.
But apparently not too painful as she made him come in like a nanosecond.
Then it was a free-for-all, and she was getting fucked in every hole just like Zeke promised her. Guy after guy came up behind her, most not even worrying about condoms, and pounded her pussy or ass. The truly adventurous tried to get their dicks sucked while battling with the pool table light.
The woman moaned the entire time. When her mouth was free for a few moments, she would encourage other guys to step forward. She clearly liked being gang banged, and while normally that thing is a turn on to me in the right circumstances, it just wasn’t tonight. I suspect in part because I kept thinking about Maggie and all she’d endured from this hellhole, and also in part because these assholes are nasty. It isn’t about eroticism or sexual freedom to them. It’s about busting a quick, raunchy nut while your buddies egg you on in between belches of cheap beer. Thank God Zeke didn’t demand I partake in the se
x because I’m not sure I could have gotten it up.
Zeke was the first guy to fuck her, and I wasn’t surprised he used a condom. Kayla’s his old lady, and I’m sure he’s not about to bring some crotch crud home to her. He started with the woman’s pussy, which I have to say was glistening so she was clearly turned on. Like a true gentlemen, he managed to spit on the end of his dick before he fucked her ass. Next guy gallantly came in her ass sans condom, so the lube situation there was taken care of.
Yeah… the woman is enjoying it, but there’s no doubt she’s going to be walking funny tomorrow. I don’t feel compelled to stick around now that my part is over, and because I saw Zeke walk outside after he was done, I look around the room for Kyle. A jolt of surprise runs through me when I lock eyes on him. He jerks his head toward the front door of the compound.
Without hesitation, I grab my tool bag and walk that way, sensing Kyle on my heels. When we clear the door and step out into the crisp air, Kyle immediately addresses the two bikers who are standing guard. They’re young recruits and probably have to do all the shit work.
“You guys want to go inside and jump in on a little gang-bang action, there’s a juicy cunt all tied up and spread over a pool table for you,” he says to the men. I wince over his crudity, making me wonder if this is the true Kyle talking or undercover Kyle. He pulls out a joint from the breast pocket of his leather cut and lights it. “I’ll watch the door for you.”
Both men’s eyes simmer with lust, and they give nods of appreciation as they push past us to head inside. When the door closes, Kyle steps in closer to me so he can talk in a low voice. “That will give us a few minutes of privacy. How’s Maggie?”
“She’s fine,” I tell him. “Healing nicely.”
“Good,” he says on a genuine exhale of relief. Any doubt I might have had that Kyle is truly batting for the good guys is dispelled.
“How long before you bring Zeke down?”
He shrugs, not in a careless way, but in a clueless way. “Waiting for confirmation from my handler with the ATF, but I can’t communicate with him regularly. I’ve got a meet set up with him later this week, but we were just waiting for this last run. They’re going to tell me when so I can be ready to assist.”
The Wicked Horse Boxed Set (The Wicked Horse Series) Page 98