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©The Club
Copyright © 2013 Suzanne Steele
Published by Suzanne Steele
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of Fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. This book, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced. It may not be used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the Author.
Cover photo © Dollar Photo Club
Cover Copyright © Suzanne Steele
Edited by Corey Amador
Cover Design by Mayhem Cover Creations
Formatting by Suzanne Steele
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All content herein is protected under copyright law.
This e-book is Rated 17+
To the Reader
The men I write about are Alpha males in every sense of the word. They are the men society warns us about. They are dominant males with controlling tendencies. They are the men you know you should stay away from but yet
you are drawn like a moth to a flame. If you are looking for a sweet romance, you won't find it here. What you will find is dark passion. Many times my heroes carry what would be
considered an obsession for the women they love. Each and every character I write about has demanded their voice be heard. I have been true to that calling and I have stayed true to their personalities, which at times the reader may not always agree with. They are dark, they are gritty, and many times their love is dysfunctional but, nonetheless, it is real.
Stalk Me…
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Table of Contents
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Prologue: Rubia
Prologue
Antonio Wayne
I pull on my brother’s arm, screaming, as he forces me to board the plane to America.
“I’ll be good. I swear I will.”
“It isn’t about you being good; it’s about you staying alive, hermano. You are all that I have. I can’t afford to lose you to the drug cartel. I’ll send for you.”
It all caught up to us that day. We were paying for my mother’s sins. Her life of debauchery forced my older brother to work for the Colombian drug cartel and he fears me getting caught up in it.
My heart broke the day my brother put me on that plane, but it was the day that I became a man. I vowed that day to never love again and it has served me well. I am now one of the most deadly and highest ranking mobsters in New York City. I run the most elite gentlemen’s club in the country. Men fly from all over the world to spend time with my women. Lives are bought and sold in my world.
Growing up in the back streets and jungles of Colombia has desensitized me. I clawed my way up through the gutters to become the man that I am today.
I am brutal, I am ruthless, I am vicious, I am cruel, I am savage, and I am a man who will stop at nothing to not only gain, but also maintain, control.
If pleasure works, then so be it. If stronger measures of pain need to be taken, then so be it.
This is NOT a love story. It is a dark, erotic tale of a man who is severely damaged. It is about a man who becomes very dangerous when it comes to matters of the club. I control every aspect of my world—my club, my women, and now, my captive.
Roxanne
I traveled the world as a cage fighter. Hey… no girl wants her face messed up, so my friend and I came up with an idea. We would only fight each other and then throw the fights so that the upsets would cause us to make more money.
We were doing fine until we stole from the Ramirez brothers. My best friend is now the property of Ricardo Ramirez who resides in Guatemala City. Their story is in the book, Rubia. I am now the property of Antonio Wayne Ramirez, one of the most deadly and feared men in New York City. My husband is obsessed with me and will stop at nothing to keep me in his possession. To put it simply, the guy is crazy. He’s all about control and pain and I’m all about surviving it.
I’m a cage fighter… so believe me when I tell you that I was never expecting daffodils and daisies for my life. I’m not the kind of girl who looks for the happily ever after. I knew there would be no knight in shining armor for me. Still, nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to encounter when I stole from the Ramirez brothers. I fucked up! No, I mean I really fucked up!
The only way to say it is just to say it. Because I stole from the wrong person, I am now the property of a Colombian gangster—a Colombian gangster who owns the most elite gentlemen’s club in New York City. He has access to the most beautiful women in the world and, yet, the only thing Antonio Wayne Ramirez will take for payment, is me…
This is my story. It is not for the faint of heart. Believe me when I tell you that I am no Cinder-fucking-rella. It remains to be seen if I get my happily ever after.
Chapter One
Antonio Wayne
I leisurely stretch my long legs out and intertwine my manicured fingers behind my neck as I eye the latest present my brother has sent me. Seriously? What the fuck is Ricardo thinking? A wife? The last thing I need is a wife. I run a fucking strip club and fuck a different woman every night; I don’t want a wife.
He had been smiling on our video conference call when I confirmed her arrival in New York. He looked so happy, like he was witnessing some monumental moment in history that should be locked in a time capsule. I just stared at him the whole time, trying to figure out how to tell him I didn’t want her.
You have to know my brother to understand what I’m saying when I tell you that he isn’t the kind of guy you can tell no. How can I say I don’t want her when he feels like he has done me some favor by giving her to me?
My cock stiffens as I watch the girl stir and the bottom of one of her ass cheeks peeks out below the nylon shorts she is wearing. She is dressed in a white muscle tee and a pair of those hot pants like the chicks wear in those sports bars where they serve barbecue wings. You know, those places where every girl has huge tits, fake or not? I wonder if hers are real. I have a penchant for redheads and this girl definitely fits the bill. She’s feisty, hotheaded, in a cage, and at my mercy. It just doesn’t get any better than this. I don’t want a woman in my bed. I want her hanging from a chain in the ceiling of my dungeon, or spread eagle and strapped to the wall like she is being served up as a delicacy for my consumption. I’m all about control and that definitely goes for in the bedroom.
Her voice cuts through my depraved thoughts. “You can’t keep me here.”
“The fuck I can’t
. You fucked up when you tried to hustle the Ramirez brothers.” Resistance…I like it.
She sits up, looking at me like she hates me. “You said it correctly—tried to. I don’t have your money so let me go and we never have to go through with this sham of a marriage you’re planning. We can act like all of this never happened.”
She backs up into the corner of the cage when I stand and I can smell the fear she tries to hide behind her defiance. “I don’t think you’re in a situation to tell me what to do. I do, however, believe you’re in a situation to be under my control. I don’t make a habit of explaining myself to anyone and I definitely don’t make a practice of doing it with any of my women. I have a hard time believing you didn’t know who my brother was when you tried to throw that fight. You fucked up when you stole from the Ramirez brothers so woman up and do your fucking time.”
“How long? How much time?”
“You just don’t get it, do you? You. Are. Property.”
“I’m nobody’s fucking property.”
She jumps when I lunge towards her. “You’re making my cock hard resisting me. There is nothing more enjoyable than breaking a woman down. Welcome to my world, Sweetie…”
Chapter Two
Roxanne
I’m cowering in the corner, sitting in a locked cage, and looking through the bars at one of the men responsible for my captivity. I skeptically eye him and though his appearance is striking, right now, all I can think about is my freedom and how to get it back.
“Roxanne, Roxanne, Roxanne, I’m very disappointed in your feigned ignorance! You’re a smart girl. Surely you get it. You have no choices; you stole from my brother.”
I watch as he sits his large 6’3” frame in the chair in front of the cell and I wonder if it is going to hold him. He is fucking huge and it’s evident not one ounce of it is fat. He stretches his long legs out, crossing them at the ankle, and then interlocks his fingers behind his head like he’s about to discuss a business deal with one his colleagues. Though his voice and his demeanor are cool, instinct tells me he is pissed.
“Roxanne,” his black eyes bore through me as he speaks, “I have a hard time believing that you didn’t know who my brother was when you ripped him off. Our reputation, well… let’s just say that it precedes us.”
Oh shit, you had to go and piss off a man that tortures people for a living.
“Antonio, I’m sorry,” I didn’t get half of the sentence out before his voice silences me.
“Shut up!”
I’m now crouched down in the corner and eyeing him warily. This is the first time that I can ever remember being this terrified.
He stands and, in a matter of fact tone, states, “You will be treated as a captive. Don’t underestimate my ability to keep you under surveillance!” He then sharply turns on the toe of his designer shoe and makes his way up the stairs from the dungeon. He is dressed as if he is an important businessman in a suit. Looking at him now as he walks away, I would never know he was anything more if it wasn’t for the holstered gun he carries. I am in so much trouble. I fear I have well and truly sold my soul to the devil taking the form of a Colombian gangster.
I slump down, feeling utterly defeated. Why, why, why did I steal from these guys? Our plan had been foolproof. I never noticed that Ricardo was in the rafters watching intently as Juanita and I threw the fight. It is evident that this man, Antonio, is crazy enough to make me marry him and he has no intentions of setting me free. I’ll just have to find a way to escape…
Antonio Wayne
I make my way into my office to issue orders to my security team.
“I want that stand up cage that’s in storage brought out and placed in my master bedroom. That bitch is not to be out of your sight unless she is with me! If you fail in this matter, I’ll cut your fucking fingers off and mail half of them to your mothers and the other half to your wives.”
The guards know I’ll do it. I’m nothing shy of ruthless. I have a sadistic streak that none of my men care to be subjected to. Even my women steer clear of me when I’m in this mood. I have unfettered access to any woman I want and those who do play with me, can only withstand my torment if they have a deep masochistic streak. I enjoy inflicting pain; it’s why my brother uses me to torture prisoners. I’m fucked up in the worst kind of way and this captive of mine is getting ready to find out she fell into the hands of a very depraved man.
I watch as one of my bodyguards, Diego, shakes his head. Actually, he is Ricardo’s bodyguard but my brother sent him to accompany my captive. I’m sure he feels very sorry for the woman he has dubbed Missy. He is hoping I don’t kill her.
Whether I will or not remains to be seen…
I’m not in a real good mood lately. I’ve got a ton of shit I’ve been dealing with and nowhere in the mix did I anticipate taking on the responsibility of a wife.
Why my brother would gift me with a wife when he knows I’m dealing with one of my ships being pirated by the Haitians is beyond me. I know those fuckers are working with the Dominicans, trying to steal my women for themselves. I’m dealing with a fucking mess right now but, like most men, my brother thinks a good fuck and a strong shot of liquor are the answers for whatever ails a man. This is one time I will have to go with the flow and not exercise the control I pride myself in taking over each and every one of life’s problems. Being in control is never an option when dealing with my older brother, Ricardo…
Chapter Three
Roxanne
After he leaves me in the dungeon, I am taken to be cleaned up and prepared to be wed to a man who is a complete stranger to me. He is really going to do this. I look up to view the Reverend make his way in. The white clerical collar he dons immediately gives away his identity, along with his intent and purpose for being here.
I look at the man who is forcing me to marry him and I begin to beg, “Please don’t do this. I will pay you the money back if you just, please, put a stop to this. You can’t force marriage; it is illegal. Please, just let me go.” I can’t help but notice that my distressed state seems to be pleasing him.
The only reaction I get from him in response to all my begging and pleading is that the growing bulge in his pants now seems even more pronounced. The tears, which are now freely streaming down my face, are only adding to his excitement. I am very quickly becoming aware of the fact that he is a twisted, damaged man who is probably incapable of love and most definitely incapable of sympathy. I’m in distress and it obviously arouses him because he put me in this position—out of control and at his mercy.
The ceremony happened so quickly, I almost feel dizzy. Before I even can register what has happened, vows have been exchanged, a kiss has been shared, and a pen was shoved in my hand for a signature that I was strongly encouraged to give. Now, it’s suddenly over and I’m being ushered down a long corridor and up the spiral staircase in what can only be described as a castle. The man I have been given to is a very rich and powerful man and if I had any doubts before, the opulence surrounding me now assures me that he is no ordinary individual. I know enough to know that men with money have power and this man has enough of both to follow through with all of his threats.
I enter his extravagant bedroom to view a four-poster bed that is absolutely huge. The room is adorned with antiques and there is a fireplace that crackles with a wood burning fire in the corner. Everything about this room screams dominant male; there is no woman’s touch to the décor. My hands tremble as the stranger, who is now my husband, makes his way over to me.
He stands at least 6’3” in stature and is massive in size, none of which is fat. The shirt he is wearing emphasizes his chest, making it comparable to a wall of muscle. While most men would be swallowed by a high dollar designer suit like the one he dons, on him it only accentuates his size and gives him an air of authority. His coal black hair is so shiny and dark that it appears to have blue hues in it. It is his eyes, though, that draw my attention the most. They are onyx black and they a
re holding me in a dangerous, piercing, and unforgiving gaze. The way he looks at me is so intense that I am finding it hard to maintain eye contact. I have never been around a man who literally permeates danger. One word comes to mind for the energy that surrounds my husband—Sinister!
He eyes me as if I am prey, stalking his way towards me to execute his potential kill. He clenches a fistful of my hair in his hand and pulls my head back, studying my face as he runs the pad of his thumb along my jaw line.
“You are my property, little one; I own you now. I will not tolerate disobedience and God help you if you ever try to escape me.”
He unties my robe and views the beautiful, emerald bra and G-string ensemble I have been dressed in. I’m wearing black thigh high hose and sequined, emerald green shoes. He appears to be pleased with the way Alexis dressed me. All I can do is tremble as I eye the man who stands before me.
I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he means every word he has uttered to me. I am now his property, his to do with whatever he wills. He tugs at my long, red locks as if solidifying the words that he speaks.
“You are mine now and the sooner that you resign yourself to that fact, the better things will go for you. Come, little one, for tonight, you become a woman—my woman.”
He leads me to the large bed and commands me to lie down. I turn away in embarrassment as he undresses. He leans in and removes my bra and G-string as he speaks, “You will remain in the hosiery for now.”
Every word, every sentence, is more like a command. I note that this stranger, my husband, is very precise and in control of even the smallest of details. He wastes no time as he begins his erotic assault on my body. He nibbles and licks up my inner thigh as he reaches up and rolls a nipple between two of his long, manicured fingers. As if on cue, my body begins to writhe, seemingly dancing to music only he can play.
His hands begin to explore the folds of my sex as he speaks to me. “I’m going to make you experience pleasure such as you have never known, little one.”
The Club Page 1