Addison Jane
Harmony
The Club Girl Diaries
The Brothers by Blood MC
Addison Jane
Copyright 2015 Addison Jane
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organisations or places is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the Author. All songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
Editing by Swish Design & Editing
Formatting by Swish Design & Editing
Cover design by Kari at Cover to Cover Designs
Cover image Copyright 2015
All rights reserved
To my baby girl, Addison.
I love you so much.
There are so many people I need to thank who have helped me through my journey. It’s honestly been a collective effort that I couldn’t have done without the support of my friends from far and wide.
My Betas – Caroline, Andrea and Angel
Without you girls, I would be so lost. Not only do I have the honor of having your feedback about my crazy writing, but I have found three beautiful, strong and amazing friends. You girls know just how to get my ass moving when I don’t have the motivation to do anything. You’ve been honest, caring and so amazingly supportive through everything.
Needa Warrant
We’ve only known each other for a short time, but in that time, you have blown me away with just how big your heart is. Thank you for answering my weird questions and delivering me honest answers.
Carian Cole
Lady, you have no idea how much your friendship means to me. Thank you for putting up with me. I have no doubt I probably drive you cray-cray sometimes, but you still stick with me.
Francessca from Francessca’s Romance Reviews
Oh my goodness. There aren’t even words to explain. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You have given me so much. Having you at my back has helped me through crazy.
Kaylene from Swish Design & Editing
Thank you for taking a chance on an unknown author and helping me. You’ve been so patient and so great with answering my probably ridiculous questions and really caring about my work.
Mary Orr
Nobody can pimp like you. I’m so grateful to have you on my team!
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Play List
Connect with me Online
About the Author
I was a club girl. A club whore. A club slut.
There were many words for what I was, and the reality is, that most of them were true. I’d stopped taking offense to them a long time ago.
A club girl was someone who hung around with an MC – a motorcycle club and was there for the mere purpose of being a hole to fuck. Rules and regulations differed between MC’s. Some required club girls to only have sex with members of the club because the members didn’t like to share their pussy with outsiders. Some MC’s required their girls to only be on the premises during parties – club parties, not family events, where there were old ladies present.
Every club was different.
The Brothers by Blood MC had strict rules about club girls and in order to keep safe, following the rules was vital. If we didn’t follow rules, two things could happen. You were either chucked out on your ass or you were killed. These were your options. If you couldn’t live with those options, then you left.
Some club girls joined simply because they wanted to be an Old Lady – a term members don’t throw around lightly. These girls never lasted very long. Other girls joined for a good time; they loved to party, they loved sex, and they loved the club.
Club Girl Rule Number One: Love the club.
“Harmony?”
“In here!” I called over the shower as I leaned my head back and washed the soap away from my long golden hair.
I heard the bathroom door click open and wiped the fog that clouded the glass door to see who it was. Slider stood, arms folded and hip propped against the sink, a wide grin spread across his face. “You nearly done in there or should I start stripping?”
I laughed and continued to soap away the sweat from my run – it had been one of those rare days I had chosen to actually do some much needed exercise. “Depends. How dirty are you going to get me?”
“That’s entirely up to you, babe. I’ve gotta be out in ten, just need something quick before I spend all night on the door at X-Rated. You know how much it hurts watching those girls strip and not being allowed to touch them,” he groaned. Grabbing his crotch and squeezing, like the mere thought of it was causing him pain. X-rated was a strip club the Brothers owned. Two members were expected to do door duty every night along with others who watched the girls and kept them away from men that got a little too handsy. It cut back on having to pay a security firm and the boys from the MC were a lot scarier than any security guard I’d ever seen.
I giggled and washed the soap from my body. “Aw, you poor, poor thing. Life is just so hard for you isn’t it,” I said sarcastically. I opened the shower door and stepped out. I left the shower running, knowing I’d probably want to jump back in when Slider was done. I walked toward him and immediately dropped to my knees, my hands already working his belt undone.
“Damn, Harmz. You’re literally like a man’s fucking wet dream right now.”
I smiled, pulling his cock through the peephole of his boxers. My tongue flicked out and tickled his head, just a small taste. Slider groaned and weaved his fingers through my hair. He pulled my mouth closer with a sharp tug, my scalp burning a little from his tight grip. Water dripped down my body causing me to shiver, but only adding to the other sensations I was feeling.
Slider was one of the more endowed members of the club. Giving him head was something I was always pleased to do. Sort of as a thank you, for having a cock large enough to hit all the right places when he fucked me. Some of the other me
mbers weren’t so lucky, and that was when I needed to get a little more creative in order to have a good time.
I gagged, saliva dripping from my mouth as Slider rammed himself down my throat.
“Nipples, baby,” he commanded, his voice gruff and tense. He was right about only needing a quickie that was for sure.
He controlled my head, holding it still as he continued to thrust at changing paces into my open mouth - stopping occasionally to tease my lips with the head and squeeze pre-come onto my tongue. I squeezed and pinched my nipples with one hand while I assaulted my clit with the other, knowing Slider had an excellent view of the show.
My moans purred against his cock as he thrust one last time into my mouth and let out a deep growl that echoed in the small bathroom. Cum shot straight down the back of my throat and I struggled to swallow it all with his dick still shoved all the way into my mouth. He pulled my hair, lifting me off him, but stopping to wipe the last drop of cum from my now plump lips.
My body ached. I hadn’t quite reached my release and I needed it desperately. Suddenly, Slider’s hands were tucked under my arms and he lifted me onto the edge of the small vanity. He pushed my body back against the large mirror on the wall and spread my legs before ducking his head between them.
His tongue flicked against my clit and I cried out in ecstasy. With two of his large fingers thrusting inside me and his tongue attacking my sensitive bud, it didn’t take long for me to scream out a release. Squeezing his head between my thighs and gripping the edge of the counter like I was holding on for dear life.
Slider slowly released his hands from the death grip he had on my thighs, and a grin spread wide across his face while licking his lips. I tried to smile back but was focusing more on an attempt to stand with legs that now felt like jelly.
After tucking his now receding, but still very large penis inside his pants, he zips them up.
“You know I always got you, Harm.” He winked before walking out the bathroom door, calling over his shoulder. “Catch you later, babe!”
“Have a good night,” I called back. My voice was still shaking right along with my legs. I took a few deep breaths and waddled my way back to the shower which surely was now almost cold.
Damn it.
I washed off under the lukewarm water and went about finding an outfit for the night. I pulled on a tight leather mini, a cute pair of red heels and an Iron Maiden T-shirt that had been torn down the center for a little bit of cleavage. Some of the girls opted for very little clothing. Personally I preferred sexy over slutty.
Friday night was club night. This meant lots of loud music, lots of booze and lots of horny Brothers of Blood. Party nights could sometimes get a little crazy depending upon who was around and how much alcohol they’d consumed. Hang arounds were allowed to come to club night. These were people associated with the club, but that weren’t members. More often than not they would end up prospecting. Some girls were also allowed to come along, but only if they were invited by a member or a hang around. Other than that, the club girls and a few girls who worked at X-Rated were there for the men.
We waitressed, we drank, we danced and we did whatever else was asked of us – within reason. Sure, some looked at us and saw whores, sluts, girls who are nothing more than a hole to fill. I’d given up caring what people thought about me a long time ago. I had my reasons for being where I was and doing what I did. I didn’t particularly care what other people had to say about it.
The bass of the music shook the floor of the clubhouse as I wandered down the hall toward the main room. With heavy metal and rock being the favorite choices for this group of bikers. It was normal for there to be some type of Judas Priest or Black Sabbath blaring through the club’s obnoxiously loud stereo system at all hours of the day.
The main room was large and designed perfectly for the club’s parties and gatherings. A bar ran along one side with a large slab of treated wood acting as the counter. Harley inspired barstools lined the entire length of the bar. On the opposite wall, two large sliding doors opened onto a concrete patio, which was used for barbecuing during family gatherings. There were also numerous sofas, chairs, tables, a couple of pool tables and even a stage.
The clubhouse had originally been a hotel and the main room had been the restaurant. The boys worked hard years ago, turning it into the clubhouse of many motorcycle club’s dreams.
I walked up to the bar and called out to the Prospect manning it. I’d gotten to know Caleb quite well. He was funny and super sweet. The prospects were not allowed to touch the club girls. The rules said they had to find their own pussy if they wanted it. So instead, Caleb and I had formed a strange friendship.
“Hey Caleb, can I have a beer?”
He threw me a smile before reaching under the bar to the small fridge. He popped the cap off the beer and slid it toward me.
“Thanks, hun!”
“Harmony,” I heard my best friend Chelsea screech from across the room. I smiled and shook my head as she stood on the stage waving at me, a smile beaming across her beautiful face. “Harmony, come on!”
I climbed the stairs laughing as I watched Lucy, one of the X-Rated girls trying to instruct Chelsea on how to use the pole. It was pointless really. The girl was super fit and could run circles around anyone but she had no sense of rhythm what-so-ever. I watched as she moved around the pole, hooking one leg over it and lifting the other off the ground. What could’ve been a sexy move resulted in her stopping suddenly and slipping straight down, her ass landing with a dull thud on the ground.
I stifled a giggle, hiding my mouth behind my beer. Unfortunately, the men who occupied the couches facing the stage weren’t so discreet and laughter rang out through the room followed by applause. Chelsea blushed and scampered to her feet, taking a small bow before grabbing my hand and dragging me from the brightly lit stage.
“Wow! That was your best move yet,” I told her as she pulled me toward the bar and ordered a drink.
Beer in hand, she turned with her tongue poking out at me like a child. “Someday, I’ll get it.”
Unlike me, Chelsea wasn’t completely content being a club girl. She was kind-hearted and had dreams of love. She wanted a man to sweep her off her feet and treat her like a queen. I admired that because it was something I’d ruled out a long time ago. I think she was in the wrong place if that’s what she was looking for. The money, free partying and male attention were the main draws for her. She’d had it rough growing up, with no one who particularly gave a damn about her. We were both in school working toward a Bachelor’s Degree. Not only did we get a place to live – rent free, but food was provided as long as we cooked for the men too. In return, they gave us enough money to pay monthly tuition at the college with a little left over for spending. It seemed like a lot, but it ensured that we didn’t need to get another job to live, and we could be at the clubhouse for whenever we were needed. Most of the men were even respectful by giving us time to study when we needed it too.
And they got sex, among other things.
To me, it was a win-win.
I patted her shoulder, unable to wipe the smile off my face. “Yup, you’ll get it someday.”
Chelsea and I found a table and sat down to chat. It was still early and some of the Brothers were making their way back from a run. That’s when things would really start to get crazy.
“You ready for your test on Monday?”
We both went to the local college. I was studying music and Chelsea was studying sports and health. Lord knows her body showed that she practiced what she preached. She was stunning. Long brown hair hung in waves down her back and her body was that of a runner – strong athletic legs and a perfectly flat, toned stomach.
I sighed. “I think so. Music history is really not my strong point. I’m not into Mozart and Beethoven. I like new music, preferably from this century.”
Chelsea nodded like she understood what I was saying, but then quickly screwed up her nose. “What�
�s a Mozart?”
I palmed my forehead and squeezed my eyes shut, praying for patience. “Oh, dear God.”
When I opened my eyes, she was frowning at me across the table. “What? I don’t understand this musical mumbo jumbo you speak,” she said, waving her hand around.
“Mozart is a pianist. He’s a famous composer.”
“Oh. Is he any good?”
“Famous. Composer…famous,” I said slowly.
She took a large sip of her beer. “You say famous, like that automatically means they are amazing at what they do. Miley Cyrus is famous, Britney Spears is famous. Hello, Kim Kardashian – famous.”
I laughed. “Okay, okay. Touché.”
We chatted for a while before the rumble of motorcycles interrupted us. I smiled at Chelsea, the gesture mirrored in her face. Some of the guys had been away for over a week and we were excited to have them back. I had been with the Brothers by Blood for around three years since I was nineteen. It started with attending parties, hooking up with a few of the guys, and then before I knew it I was moved in and living at the clubhouse.
I loved the men of my MC. They were hard, violent and scary. But underneath it all, they had firm beliefs about respect. Respect went a long way within the club.
Club Girl Rule Number Two: Respect the Brothers and the Brothers will respect you.
Optimus, the President of the MC, strolled through the door first. Optimus was a strong leader. He was firm and heavy handed and the boys all looked up to him. He wasn’t the oldest of the pack at only thirty, but his father had been killed five or so years back during a turf war and therefore he had inherited the gavel. He took his position seriously, sometimes a little too much as finding him with a smile on his face was very rare.
“Beer,” he ordered, banging his massive fist down on the bar and causing Caleb to jump. Grabbing a hold of the long neck of the bottle he stomped off toward his office. He stopped just before he reached the entrance to the hallway and turned to scan the room. His eyes fell on the table where we were seated, but they weren’t on me. “Chelsea. Here. Now.”
Harmony (The Club Girl Diaries Book 1) Page 1