Never Kiss an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love)
Page 28
We pulled into the cracked parking lot. Sixty whistled, pulled off his helmet, and squinted at me, stroking his goatee.
“Fuck a duck. Am I the only one who expected this place to look like a carnival on the inside only?”
Crawl and I both snorted. He wasn't wrong.
The outside walls were flaking neon pink paint. The entrance was flanked with four big circus poles painted barber shop red-white-and-blue. Didn't notice they were round at the top like dicks 'til we got off our bikes and started heading for the door.
I pushed my way in first, hand at my hip. The entryway looked like a run down lobby, and I rang the bell, taking a careful look to make sure we hadn't missed any girls or Johns loitering out front.
When we did this housecleaning shit, we put everybody on lockdown. No stragglers.
“Hey, gents. You here as a group, or are you looking for some one-on-one action?”
A thin, wiry man came walking up. Skinny, ugly, and too damned young to be working in a shithole like this.
Didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. I reached for the nine millimeter on my hip and drew. All three of my brothers pulled their guns too, and I heard them click behind me, aiming all our firepower at the gawky-looking asshole who came up to the front desk.
“Hands in front of you where we can see 'em,” I growled, locking my eyes on his wrists.
“Whoa!” The snake looked like he was about to shit. He listened, though, and that was all that mattered. “Can I help you guys? I'm real sorry, I don't recognize your patches...you're not with the Deadhands, are you?”
“No.” Firefly stepped in front of me, lowering his gun and slapping the counter. “Get your boss, Ricky, out here right fucking now. We've got business.”
The man licked his pale lips. “Uh, mind if I ask what it's all about?”
“We're not asking you again!” I snarled. “If you don't get his ass out here in the next thirty seconds, we're gonna be talking to you. Oh, and make sure he comes out with his hands up. Wouldn't want any misunderstandings, you dig?”
We waited. Our guns went up the second Ricky came trotting in. Bastard was tall, pot-bellied, and weaselly as ever. I'd only seen the pimp a couple times, back when he'd come to our clubhouse, fishing for protection.
The club didn't owe him shit. He owed us for pushing pussy in our territory, and now he'd wound up on our bad side by hosting our fiercest enemies.
“Hold up, pimp.” I pointed my gun at his head, freezing him in his tracks. “Don't even think about reaching under your belt.”
“What? Not even for a condom?” The pimp gave us a crooked smile. “I'm happy to have you boys as customers or –“
“Shut the fuck up. We're not here for pleasure.” Firefly stepped up, pulled out his phone, and thumbed the camera lens on it.
Crawl cleared his throat. “Well, Prez didn't say anything about sampling the goods while we're taking inventory...”
Ricky laughed. My heart throbbed. Goddammit.
My horny, older brother was just as hard up as everybody else for pussy since our parties dried up and the girls stopped coming to the clubhouse. Only difference was he'd fuck anything that moved, and I'd always had high standards.
“My house is your house, boys. Anything you want. Neighborly discount. Just, come on, put the guns down, guys.” Ricky's voice trembled.
“We'll think about it once we've decided you're not storing shit for the Deads.” Firefly moved his gun down to Ricky's chest and spat at the floor, before he turned to me. “Skin, take this sorry sonofabitch in the back and make sure he doesn't get smart. The rest of us are gonna comb through these rooms and hit his office. We'll save the red meat on paper for you to dig through later.”
“You got it, Sarge.” I walked up and shoved the barrel of my gun into the pimp's skin. “Start walking, asshole. I wanna see your whores and make sure there's nobody else hiding out in those dirty rooms. You'd better be honest, starting right now. If I find anything I shouldn't, I fucking swear to God...”
I stopped, pushing the gun harder into his scrawny back, 'til the metal rubbed on bone. Ricky jerked forward, throwing his arms up in the air.
“Okay, okay! Christ, man. Cut me some fucking slack. It's not like I expected any of this shit today. If you'd given me some kinda heads-up, I'd have –“
“Bite your damned tongue and walk. I don't have time for these bullshit excuses.”
He led me forward. The place was big, but it wasn't half the size I'd expected. If this truly was the biggest trucker spa on this side of the state, it made me wonder what ugly little sewers the rest of them were.
The first two rooms we walked through were about what I expected. Girls in cheap, torn hose and ratty fishnets, slumped on even cheaper beds. They barely cracked their eyes when he opened their doors and smiled at them.
They gave their boss a look like he'd just told them the whorehouse was going clean. One of them moaned, something soft and incoherent about being a good girl for good ice. She looked at me and licked her pale lips.
“My, you're a mean-looking one. Why don't you come in here and let my tongue do the talking, sugar? Shit, I bet you pay in that nice, pure stuff too, don't ya? Listen, if you've got any of that on you, I don't even need cash. I'll do anything and everything for a few more hits of heaven.”
Fuck. If only I could've put a bag with holes over her head and pray my dick didn't fall out after I screwed her mouth. She had a sexy voice, but that body was thin, blotchy, clammy.
My sex deprived dick stopped right in its tracks. I'd had a long dry spell, but I wasn't that fucking desperate.
“Shut your whore mouth, Hazel,” Ricky snapped, turning to me with nervous shame in his eyes. “She's had a slow week. I'm sorry about that, you can take a lap around if you wanna make sure there's no guns and shit inside. I'm going across the hall, just for a second...next girl's a softie. Scares easy. She needs a little prepping before you barge in. She's the best I've got.”
I ignored the whore, Hazel, and did exactly that. Kept my eye on the pimp outside the door, wondering why the fuck he was bent on giving so much special attention to this new chick, when he'd shown all the others nothing but scorn.
Ricky's girls barely seemed to own anything. I looked for telltale signs of chains, handcuffs, anything that might tell me they were slaves. I had a serious urge to unchain any whores there being kept prisoner.
Not because I wanted to play hero. No, I wanted to spite the miserable piece of shit for prowling around underneath our noses, spite this whole fucking place for teasing me with sex when I hadn't gotten my cock soaked and sucked for at least a solid month.
But I didn't see any slave girls. I started to doubt the rumors were even true.
The sluts in the other rooms whined or buried their faces in their pillows. They were miserable, but only because I wasn't bringing them drugs. They wanted business – not freedom.
Soon as I saw there wasn't any contraband hidden for the Deads, I stepped out into the hallway, just as that greasy little prick came walking toward me again.
“If you're here for pussy, I'm down with that, but you've got to be careful with this girl.”
“Careful?” I cocked my head.
My gut told me this fuck was hiding something. I didn't come here looking for a hot, warm hole – especially after I'd seen the run down tramps this asshole had on market.
“Yeah,” Ricky clucked anxiously. “Just...don't be too hard on her. You can only have her mouth. Everything below the waist is off limits with this bitch. Her choice, not mine, and I respect it. Use a condom too.”
Bullshit, I thought, studying his face.
Okay, now I was totally convinced. The way that smirk disappeared when he talked about her told me something was up.
He was feeding me a steaming load of crap, and I decided there was no good reason I couldn't do the same.
“Outta my way,” I growled, shoving my hand into his chest so hard he flew back and slapped the wall.
“Wait, Skin! You can't go in there without me. Wait, wait, wait...”
I let him catch up before I looked him dead in the eyes. “You've got five seconds. Hearing you flapping your gums just makes me want to fuck her even harder. I'll have her, and I'll do it alone. You think I give a fuck about your roles, you're flat out wrong.”
He winced. The pimp's nervousness doubled, and he started giving me some shit about how he had to hang out and watch, for 'security' purposes, telling me again I could use her mouth, but not anything else.
I'd had enough.
I reached for his gun and slammed him into the wall so fucking hard his teeth rattled. Music to my ears, and I wanted more.
“Play nice. Go mop the toilets or some shit like a good little boy, and maybe you can have this back.”
I must've been speaking a different language. The fuck whined about us, pretended he didn't know this was a 'shakedown.'
He couldn't be that fucking stupid. Of course we weren't here for tea, we were here to bust his ass for info, guns, money, and to flush this viper's nest clean of any poison. I held on tight to his greasy gun and pistol whipped his ugly face so hard his head slammed into the wall.
One. Two. Three.
The third time, I almost busted out his teeth. I realized my cock was hard, and it wasn't just due to the power struggle here.
I was honestly starting to get my hopes up that maybe the girl in the other room wasn't just another piece of half-starved druggie meat.
Maybe she'd look halfway decent. Maybe I'd actually want to fuck her.
What then?
Ricky whined some shit I didn't pay attention to, wiping the blood off his lip. I stuffed his gun into my pants and turned, giving him one last push against the wall as I told him to get the fuck outside and out of my sight.
I'd do this alone, or I'd knock him out cold and pop half the teeth in his mouth like popcorn kernels.
The blows to the face must've knocked some sense into him. He didn't follow when I walked into the chick's dark room and slammed the door behind me.
She huddled in a corner, and I caught a flash of bright blue eyes in the darkness. Awesome blue eyes, the color of hot gas flames ready to ignite the world.
Shit. She was pretty.
No, fuck pretty. Compared to all the other bitches here, maybe even most chicks I'd seen in my life, this girl left them all in the stinking dust.
She had three times the curves on her slender body the other whores had. Her skin looked more pristine with every step I took closer. She looked healthy, sexy. She looked like the first thing in a long time that truly caused my cock to bolt up.
My dick begged me to slam her against the nearest wall. The fucking hair stood up on the back of my neck when I looked at her, imagining those blue eyes rippling like pools while I slammed myself into her, snarling like a devil and filling her cunt with my come.
The young brunette looked scared out of her wits, and she couldn't stop running her eyes up and down my cut, like she already wanted me. Or else she wanted to figure out what the fuck I was doing standing there.
What the hell? She had to have seen a biker bastard like me before. She'd probably taken about a dozen cocks from the Deads, not to mention a few hundred truckers, but damn if she didn't look like a virgin.
My cock hammered like mad in my pants by the time I was close enough to speak. Fire churned hot in my balls, sending pure hellfire into my blood. My brain still wanted me to talk like a sensible man, but everything below the waist decided then and there that I had to fuck this girl.
My boot scraped something on the ground – a scrap of leather and metal. I realized it was a chain, like something for a dog.
Fuck me. What kinda kinky shit did that twisted little shit have her doing?
Her eyes locked onto my name patch. I was about to reach for her sweet, sexy face and take what my cock commanded me to when her plump lips opened, too plush and healthy for any Tennessee whore I'd ever known.
“Skin? Seriously?”
Fuck, maybe she was actually half as innocent as she looked. I smiled, reached up, and pounded my fist on my chest.
“That's what they all call me, babe. Don't wear it out before I fuck you ragged.” My dick throbbed again, harder every time.
I hated fighting the unruly bastard. I seriously wanted to do everything I said, but I didn't come here to fuck whores. I just had to make her believe it.
Her cheeks flushed. Turned honest-to-God red, like some prom girl on a date letting a man see her panties for the first time.
“You got a name? Or at least a sexy nickname from your jackass pimp?”
“Fresh.” She paused. “You know...like fresh meat.”
I threw my head back and laughed. It was cruel, absurd, and downright fucking stupid. That couldn't be the name I'd call her by. Not a fuckin' chance.
I reached for her face, cupped her chin, and squeezed. Leave it to Ricky to give the most beautiful woman I'd seen in this place the stupidest goddamned name on the planet.
“Seriously, what the fuck's going on here?” I gestured to the limp leash with the chain on the floor. “You don't seem as whacked out as all the other girls. I know you get special treatment. The bastard was all nervous before I came in here, begged me not to see you alone. Why does he chain you up if he's so hell-bent on selling your mouth to strangers?”
My eyes fell to her lips. Fuck, they were moneymakers, if I ever saw any. Sweet, glossy and vibrant. Just the kinda lips I liked to imagine wrapped around every inch of me, pulling on my balls, stamping wet kisses up and down my body before I claimed the wet heat between her legs and shook her 'til she screamed.
“Because I'm Ricky's favorite. His prisoner.” The minute she said it, she spun around, refusing to face me.
I watched her little hand cover her mouth. Prisoner, huh?
Now, we were getting to some meat and bones. My arm went around her waist and I pulled her tight, slamming her into me, making me gasp 'til she met my eyes.
“Start talking. I knew he was sweeping something under the rug.”
“I can't,” she whispered, wiping the long, hot tear sliding down her cheek. “Please, just let me do my job. I shouldn't be telling you any of this. This is what you're here for, right?”
She jerked toward the nightstand, bending in my arms. A drawer popped open, revealing the biggest stash of condoms I'd ever seen.
Blood rushed to my dick. For a second, I seriously considered letting her gag on my cock if she didn't want to talk. Too bad I was born with a conscience, and all the violence and dirty deals in the MC hadn't beaten it outta me yet.
She turned gently, wearing a shaky smile, tearing at the foil with her teeth. My fingers darted out and I flicked the condom out of her grip. It hit the floor with a loud bounce.
Surprise shone in those perfect blue eyes. But it wasn't half of what I saw a second later, when I picked her up and moved her across the room, flattening her against the nearest wall. She gasped, so sharp and sudden I wanted to hear it a hundred more times, preferably naked and moaning.
“What do you want? I thought you'd rather have me on my knees,” she sputtered, shock crinkling her face.
“I want you to sing. I'm not here to fuck. My brothers and I hit this dump to see what Ricky's been up to, and you're the first interesting thing I've found. Who are you? Really?”
She cracked. I loosened my grip as more hot tears fell down her face. I ran my fingers through her chestnut hair, noticeably cleaner and softer than the other girls I'd seen. They couldn't compare.
“Megan Willow Wilder,” she hissed, soft and harsh in my ear.
“The fuck?” That was a fancy name for a place where the girls were supposed to have stupid names like Honey, Cherry Anne, or Fresh.
She shook her head, tightening her face like she couldn't believe I'd never heard the name.
“Spill it, babe,” I growled. “You're not supposed to be here, and I need to know why.”
I had to catch another laugh tearing at my throat. No fucking way.
Did she really expect me to believe this? A virgin in a trucker spa, sucking off guys and wearing a kink chain? For all I knew, she was Ricky's favorite, the pimp's personal slut that he used to unwind after a long day of work. Some of the bastards had them, after all.
“I'm Eric and Judy Wilder's daughter. Look them up, please.” She sounded desperate. Probably noticed the skepticism lining my smirk. “You have to believe me. We're rich, my dad owns three businesses all over the state, just do a search and you'll see. You have to get me out of here, Skin. Please. Get me out, before Ricky gets what he wants. I don't want to die a fucking slave!”
That did it. My fingers smoothed their way through her hair, and then I pulled it tight. I forced her to look at me through the tears.
I had an incredible ear for bullshit. Always had.
This chick's story sounded like a drugged out fairy tale, but damn if she didn't put up a good act. “It's not too late, Skin. Take me with you. I'll do anything to get out of here.”
Her tongue flicked across her lips. Her small, soft hands pushed against my chest. Those palms traveled downward, and I saw lightning in her eyes when she moved them over my abs.
My cock screamed, begging me to take her, to do the one crazy thing I couldn't. Not today, anyway.
Not after the shit she'd just told me. I wasn't gonna fuck an honest-to-God slave, no matter how hot she looked in that cheap getup. Not unless she surrendered willingly with nothing more than unbridled lust.
No bullshit. No quid pro quo. No bargaining.
Fuck. I grabbed both her wrists and pushed her away, putting some sorely needed space between us.
A man can't think rationally when he's been without a woman this long. Especially a man who's used to getting what he wants, fucking women with ease, feeling them fall all over him just because he's got the right patch and a hard, inked body underneath it.