by Susan Stoker
With that, Ransom peeled Angel’s hand off his arm and stalked back through the crowded room, leaving Angel standing in front of her friends, embarrassed as hell. She looked around, confused about what had just happened, then slid over to stand uncomfortably next to a tall Asian woman named Li.
“What’s he mean, Angel?” Li asked, brow crinkled in confusion. “We always have fun when we’re here. We love partying with him and his friends.”
As if they’d rehearsed it, Camel answered for Angel. “Coke, pretty lady.”
The other women looked at him in surprise. Camel continued as if he hadn’t just shocked the shit out of the country-club set. “And I’m not talking the fizzy-soda-pop kind. Those joints you’ve been smoking are fun, yeah, but they aren’t anything compared to the high you get from snorting some coke. It makes you feel fucking invincible. You think the weed makes you feel good, shit, you have to try this. If you’re scared to try it, no big deal, but I can personally guaran-damn-tee it makes orgasms stronger, longer, and for the ladies, makes you able to come all night long.”
Cruz knew Camel didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, but Angel’s friends didn’t know that. Cocaine did make the user feel euphoric and could make someone more energetic and talkative, but increasing their ability to orgasm? No. It could make the person using it have an increased reaction to touch, sight, and sound, which, Cruz figured, was where Camel was going with his orgasm comment.
Ransom didn’t allow his MC members to use cocaine. He knew how addictive it was, and that having drugged-out members around the merchandise wasn’t a good combination. Cruz had personally witnessed Bubba beating the shit out of a prospect when he’d first joined the club for stealing the cocaine he was supposed to be selling. That didn’t mean the guys hadn’t ever used before. Camel obviously knew what it felt like to be high on the drug.
There was silence around the table for a moment, then as Cruz could have predicted, Angel spoke up. “I’m in. Who else?”
When no one said anything, Angel sighed dramatically. “Fine. Y’all are pussies. I’ll get Ransom to bring some over here and you can watch me. I’ll show you I won’t drop dead from it and then you can do whatever you want. It’s not like using at parties is gonna make me into a drug addict.” And with those words, she stormed away.
The mood in the room had changed a bit, though slowly but surely, the MC members moved in and worked their magic. Camel dropped his hand to Cissy’s stomach and stroked her while talking into her ear. Donkey put his mouth to Kelly’s neck and sucked hard, while at the same time holding onto her thigh and caressing her. Tick picked Li up off her chair and sat down in her place, holding her across his lap and against his erection as he ran his hands up and down her back, soothing, placating, and arousing.
While the other men were doing the same things to the other women, Roach was the most aggressive. He’d turned Bridgette’s chair around so it was facing Vodka and Steel—and Dixie—on the couch. He stood behind her, whispering in her ear while running his hands over her chest, pausing every now and then to pinch her erect nipples. Bridgette’s eyes were locked on the scene across the room as she squirmed in Roach’s grip. It was obvious she was torn between embarrassment, and being turned on by what Roach was doing to her and what she was watching.
The men were using the women’s altered states against them. The marijuana coursing through their systems was making them mellow and receptive to the guys’ advances. They likely didn’t feel any danger because they’d been coming to the club for nights on end. They knew the men, even if they didn’t know them. Not to mention, Angel was encouraging the deviant behavior. It was a classic case of peer pressure. If Cruz didn’t hate Ransom so much, he’d be impressed with the man. He was a master manipulator. Mickie would have a field day analyzing him with her psychology degree.
Cruz stopped his thoughts in their tracks. No way was he thinking about Mickie while he was standing in this pit of hell.
Angel came stomping back across the room with Ransom in tow. Ever the drama queen, she cleared the table nearest to her with one sweep of her arm. The glasses and bottles that had been sitting there crashed and broke as they landed on the floor. The women giggled nervously at her actions, but they must’ve been used to her over-the-top performances because they simply sat up straighter to get a better view of the drama that was about to happen.
Ransom smirked and set up the lines of cocaine on the tabletop. He tamped them down and held his hand out to Angel.
“Give me a hundred.”
Angel reached into her purse and brought out a hundred dollar bill with no argument. They all watched as Ransom tightly rolled it up. He then handed it back to Angel and gestured toward the table. “Go for it. Show ’em how it’s fucking done.”
Cruz could see Angel was apprehensive, but Ransom didn’t give her a chance to back down. He moved behind her and put his hands on her waist. He leaned in. Cruz only heard him because he was standing nearby.
“Go on. Fucking do it already. Any bitch of mine wouldn’t be scared of this shit. You’ve done it before with the old ladies, what’s the difference now? You a part of my MC or what?”
Angel squared her shoulders and put the rolled-up bill to her nose and bent over. She stood up and coughed and ran her hand under her nose, wiping away any white powder that might be clinging there.
“That’s my good girl,” Ransom told her. “Again.” He put his hand on her back and pushed. Angel almost fell on the table, but caught herself at the last second. Ransom pulled her hips back and pushed his dick against her ass. His hands went to the bottom of her dress and he slowly ran them up her sides, pushing her dress up as he went.
As Angel leaned down to snort the second line Ransom had set out for her, he brought her dress all the way up and over her ass. Angel was wearing a black thong, her ass now visible to everyone in the room. Ransom ran his hands over her tan cheeks and then leaned into her.
When she was done, he pulled her up against him and gave her another joint to smoke. Ten minutes later, when Ransom knew the drug would most likely have taken effect, he addressed the women sitting around the table, who were now watching Angel and Ransom with fascination.
“Listen closely, ladies. Watch and fucking learn.” He turned his head and spoke in a normal voice to Angel. “How do you feel, Angel? Can you feel it coursing through your veins?”
“Uh-huh.” Angel vigorously nodded.
Ransom ran his hands down her sides and held Angel closer. One of his arms went around her chest, holding her against the front of him. His other hand went down and cupped her pussy. Her skirt was still rucked up around her waist. He was hiding her from her friends, but it was obvious what he was doing.
“And this? What does this feel like? Does it feel different?”
“God, Ransom!”
“Answer my fucking question. Now.”
“Yeah, it feels different.”
“How?”
Angel’s head rested back on Ransom’s shoulder and she rolled it back and forth. She grabbed his arm around her chest and the other hand went down to where he was now rubbing against her clit.
“Hands off, Angel. Don’t even think about fucking stopping me.”
Angel immediately retreated, putting her hand back on his arm.
“You want me to make you come? Right here in front of your friends?”
Angel simply moaned.
“I won’t say it again. Give me a fucking answer.”
“Oh God, Ransom, Please.”
“Please what, bitch?”
Angel’s hips were now thrusting against Ransom’s hand. Cruz couldn’t help but stare in morbid fascination as Ransom manipulated not only Angel, but her friends as well. Each rub over Angel’s clit was meant to show her friends how wonderful the cocaine high was…even though the two really had nothing to do with each other.
Every one of the other women sitting around the table was silent and still, watching intently. The oth
er MC members were not still. They were in various stages of caressing Angel’s friends. Some nonchalantly and others more blatantly, but none as overtly sexually as Ransom.
“Please, let me come.”
Ransom abruptly removed his hand from Angel’s crotch and brought it up to her mouth. “Suck it.”
Angel opened and Ransom shoved the three fingers he’d been fucking her with into her mouth roughly. Angel kept her eyes closed as she licked and sucked her juices off his fingers with no complaint as he worked them in and out.
“Now, finish the last line and then you’ll tell me how it fucking feels when I ask, without hesitating, and I’ll think about letting you come.”
Angel obediently leaned over the table and quickly snorted the last line of white powder. Ransom snagged the rolled-up bill from her hand and shoved it into his back pocket, not missing a beat and never missing a chance to pocket easy money.
“Please, Ransom. You promised, please.”
“You don’t call the shots here, whore. You know that.”
“I’m sorry. Please…”
Ransom brought her back against his chest again. “Put your hands up around my neck.”
Angel did as he asked, once again resting her head on Ransom’s shoulder.
Ransom inched one hand back down to her pussy and grabbed her throat with the other. He forced her head back farther as he squeezed her neck tightly. Angel coughed and gagged, but didn’t otherwise try to remove his hands; she just kept undulating against him and trying to get herself off.
“Now, tell me what I want to know, bitch. Describe how this feels. Tell all your friends how it’s different. How it’s better.”
Angel started slowly, but picked up speed as she described what she was feeling. Her voice was raspy and low, because her air was being restricted, but her friends could still hear her. “I’m wet. Really wet. I can feel every slide of your fingers inside me. Your fingernails scraping against my walls. It’s heightened, as if I can feel every molecule of your fingers. They feel big. Huge, almost like it’s your cock.”
Ransom smirked. “You see, ladies? There’s no better aphrodisiac than a bit of blow. It’s completely harmless. As your friend here will demonstrate, it can make you multi-orgasmic. You think she cares you’re all watching her? No. All she cares about is getting off. And I can guarantee it’ll be the best orgasm she’s ever had. Right, whore?”
His hand went to work between Angel’s thighs. He smacked her pussy three times, making Angel twitch in his grasp. She started to move her hands from behind his head and Ransom tightened his grip on her neck and growled, “Leave them there, cunt.”
Angel moaned and obeyed, squirming in Ransom’s grasp.
Ransom reached up and lowered Angel’s dress so that one breast was exposed to the group, who now stared as if hypnotized by the show before them.
He pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger until Angel was standing on her tiptoes groaning.
Ransom was smirking as he continued his demonstration. “The increased blood flow to her extremities is making everything I do to her feel twice as it good as it would without the coke. There’s no other feeling in the world like this.”
Ransom’s hand went back down to her crotch, holding Angel tightly against him as he delved under her thong once more. It didn’t take long, only ten or so seconds, and Angel was howling and everyone watched as she orgasmed in Ransom’s arms. Without letting her recover, he continued his assault on her clit.
“Now, she just came, but watch—I can make her come again and again, something she can’t do without the blow. I know, I’ve fucking tried.”
Angel screamed again and lost the battle to stand fully upright. Only Ransom’s arm around her neck kept her standing.
“One more, bitch. Give me one more.”
“I can’t, Ransom, please, stop, it hurts!”
“Shut the fuck up. I’m in control here. You will. Put your fucking foot up.”
When Angel didn’t move, Ransom nodded at Camel, who was standing next to them. Camel leaned over and grabbed Angel’s leg roughly and forcefully hooked the heel of her shoe on the bottom spindle of the nearest stool. The action opened her up to Ransom even more. He increased the speed of his thrusts inside her pussy and rolled her clit roughly with his thumb, her thong no barrier to his fingers.
He shifted and finally took his hand off her neck, only to snake it down to pinch her exposed nipple. They could all see the tip begin to slowly turn red from the pressure. He then pulled it away from her chest. Angel whimpered in his arms, but didn’t otherwise fight his rough handling of her body.
“See girls? She’s loving this. She doesn’t care where she is or what I do to her. This could be you. All it takes is a bit of blow.” He took Angel’s earlobe between his teeth. “Come again, bitch. Come now.” He let go of her nipple and as the blood rushed back into the nub, he grabbed her entire breast in his hand and squeezed hard enough that Angel would have bruises in the morning.
That was all it took. Angel came again with a screech, yelping Ransom’s name.
Cruz observed the display with disgust. It was obvious Ransom didn’t give a shit about Angel, he was just using her. Well, it was obvious to him. Hell, Cruz could tell the president wasn’t even hard. He wasn’t getting off on what he was doing. It was all a show, a ploy, and Angel and her friends were playing right into his hands.
When Angel had calmed somewhat, Ransom pulled her dress down and her bra up to re-cover her breast and removed his fingers from between her legs. He wiped his hand on her dress with what Cruz could see was barely concealed disgust.
“Now, who’s in?”
The women around the table didn’t immediately agree, but eventually the alcohol and weed they’d ingested made them lose enough of their inhibitions that they all decided to try it.
Ransom twisted with a smirk and slapped Angel on the ass. As he turned away, he said, “Thanks, bitch.”
Angel hadn’t recovered her equilibrium from the orgasms and didn’t respond. Her hands were on the table in front of her and she leaned over it, trying to catch her breath. Bubba pulled out several small baggies of coke from his pocket and started making the rounds to Angel’s friends, pocketing money, giving instructions, and handing them his business card so they could get in touch with him when they wanted more.
Cruz turned away. He didn’t want to hang around and watch all the club members get these naïve women off. They had no clue they’d been played by a master.
As Cruz walked to the other end of the warehouse to get away from the depravity, he thought about how he could stop Ransom and his club from getting the rest of the drugs onto the streets, and how he was going to explain to Mickie that he’d stood around and watched as her little sister had been so crudely put on display for Ransom and all his club buddies. It was one thing to know she was having sex with the man, but if Mickie had seen what had just happened, she’d be as horrified as he was. He knew it.
Chapter Ten
Good morning.
Good morning, Cruz.
All ok there? No more incidents? Cruz had started texting Mickie each morning to make sure none of the other club members had taken it upon themselves to send her another message. If that happened, he’d have to make a stand, but so far they’d all stayed away from her.
Nope. All was good this morning. How’d the job go last night?
Cruz had told her he had to work a private party at the Alamo the night before. He hated lying to her, but telling her he was hanging out at a party thrown by the same motorcycle club she was trying to convince her sister to ditch, obviously wasn’t going to work.
Good. No problems.
See any ghosts?
He laughed out loud at that. He recalled another conversation they’d had about how fascinated she was with the history of the Alamo and the downtown area, particularly regarding the spirits that had to still be around.
Not this time, only real people.
&
nbsp; Darn.
Have a good day at work. I’ll talk to you later?
Sounds good. Later Cruz.
Bye
An hour or so later, his personal phone rang.
“Cruz.”
“Hey, it’s Dax. How’re you holding up?” Daxton Chambers asked, sounding concerned even over the phone line.
“I’ve been better.”
“It’s been almost two months. You doing okay?”
Cruz ran his hand over the top of his head. “I’m getting there. I’ve been reporting what I’ve seen and heard back to the field office. They say another couple of weeks and I’m out.”
“A couple of weeks? Come on, man, you know they don’t need you in there while they’re doing the paperwork to shut them down.”
“I can’t leave right now.” When Dax didn’t say anything, Cruz reluctantly repeated, “It’s personal. I can’t leave now.”
“I don’t like it, man, but I understand. You know I’m here if you need me. Just say the word and I’m there.”
“I know, and I appreciate it.”
Changing the subject, Dax said, “So, Mack tells me she was your wingman when it came to a certain woman…” He let the sentence hang.
Cruz laughed. “Yeah, she was great. Thank her again for me.”
“That’s it? That’s all you’re giving me?”
Cruz chuckled at the disappointment he heard in his friend’s voice. “She’s amazing, Dax, but it’s not going to go anywhere.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because. I’m fucking undercover. There’s no way.”
“Don’t say that. I didn’t expect to find Mack, yet, here we are.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“For one, you weren’t pretending to be someone you aren’t with her.”
“When you’re with this woman, are you pretending?”