I’m so pissed right now that I can’t see straight and I most certainly can’t think straight. I need a hard workout. I haven’t really been keeping up on going to the gym and this is all the motivation I need. I grab Alexis with my mind set on getting gym clothes and working out but her chatter never ends.
“Roxanne… I told you that you would have these feelings but you don’t know Tony like I do. The man could care less about those women other than it being business.”
“Fuck him! I’m leaving. This isn’t working for me.”
“Roxanne, he is the boss of a strip joint; he runs a stable. If you’re looking for happily ever after, then you are married to the wrong man.”
“Alexis, you make it sound like we were high school sweethearts who got married after we graduated. Are you forgetting that he made me marry him?!?”
“Are you forgetting that you stole $100,000 from him?”
“You heard me, Alexis. I’m leaving!”
I don’t care how many pep talks everyone gives me; nothing could have prepared me for the feelings these women evoke in me. I have no intentions of getting my heart broken. I feel needy and insecure and I don’t like it one bit. These women are beautiful and it is turning me into an insecure wife. It is time to leave. The way I see it, it’s now or never.
“Come on, Alexis.” I grab her arm and pull her down into a gym that any cage fighter would die to have in their home. That is one thing I can say for my husband, everything is top of the line with him. His home, clothing, cars, women—it’s all top of the line.
I give Alexis a serious look as I speak when she goes to hold the punching bag in place. “If you don’t hang onto that punching bag, you’re going to get hit in the face.”
“I don’t want to hold it,” she whines. Where I’m a total tomboy, she is a total Miss Priss.
“I’m not going to hit you. You do need to stop talking though. When I work out, I’m intense so you need to pay attention and let the drama go for now.” There’ll be plenty of time for it later.
I hit the bag so hard that she almost loses her footing. She holds it tight after that. Visions of that woman have me hitting and dropkicking the bag like it’s her face. It feels good to use muscles that have been neglected and I promise myself to make time for a workout every day. I finish up after an hour of intense training and Alexis trots off decreeing that she is dirty and needs a shower. She didn’t even work out. How can she be dirty? That is just Alexis though. She’s a prissy girl.
I take a moment to enjoy the solitude and quiet of the gym as I use the towel around my neck to wipe the workout sweat from my face. If anyone needs a shower, it’s me. I make my way to exit the gym and Tony steps from around a corner. His walk is more of a stalk as he pins me to the wall with his hands on either side of my body.
“I’m dirty, Tony. Go away.”
“My dick is hard. Watching you hit that bag was so erotic.”
I cock a sardonic brow up in a silent challenge and I don’t mean in a sexual way.
“I said my cock is hard. What are you going to do about it?”
I look at him directly in the eye as I speak, “I don’t care if you stick it in a fucking hole in the wall.”
I push off the wall to try and leave but he clamps a hand around my throat so quickly I never see it coming.
“It’s real cute, and sometimes even funny, how cocky you can be when we’re alone. Let’s get one thing straight right fucking now. If you ever talk to me like that in front of any my women, or anyone else as far as that goes, I’ll discipline you in ways you can’t even imagine. When are you going to get it, little girl? You. Are. The. Property. Of. A. Very. Sadistic. Man.
We stand there glaring at one another for a full thirty seconds before he moves. I wait until I’m at the door before I speak, “bastard!”
All I hear is his laughter ring out as I make my way down the hallway. The sound is not one of joy, but a sinister promise that I’m in a battle I can’t win. Regardless, I’m not the kind of girl to back down from a fight.
Chapter Eighteen
Roxanne
By the time night rolls around and I’m in the club, I’m not in a good mood. I’m grateful Tony at least has the sense to put Alexis in charge of training these new girls. The only problem is that I have to be here to translate. Honestly, I would have her back anyway but the attitude of this woman and the fact that I’m already pissed isn’t making for a pleasant evening.
I brace myself, holding my breath as Sabrina sashays her way through the dancer’s dressing room with her robe open. It’s flowing behind her to reveal the corset, G-string, hose, and garter that Antonio bought her. He is very good to all the women and it’s common practice for him to gift the women with things. It really doesn’t bother me because I know how he thinks. In his mind, these are his women and his responsibility. Where the buck stops with me, is in the bedroom. As long as he keeps his cock in his pants, I’m fine with anything else. If he fucks around, I’ll divorce his ass, plain and simple.
I have to force back a laugh as Sabrina gets started on one of her rolls. I have to admit that the girl is hilarious with some of the stuff she says. In her mind, she is one of the head bitches in charge and, really, it’s probably true. In this dressing room and out on that floor, the girl lets everybody know that she is the alpha female. She doesn’t hesitate to rub everybody’s face in it.
“Too bad Antonio Wayne had to bring these bitches in and let them live at the castle is all I’ve got to say. I mean, I understand they needed to be rescued and I feel bad for y’all and everything. I just hope you girls are smart enough to understand he will kill one of you bitches if you ever betray him. Maybe if he does, then we can all move on and get back to life as we know it.”
What she does next shocks me. She makes her way up to the girl who has been giving me problems and looks her dead in the eye as she speaks. “What you girls don’t realize is that Roxanne is like a junkyard dog, you know, the kind that will rip your fucking throat out if you trespass. Let’s just say, due to the fact that your boss is her husband…” She wags her finger back and forth in the girl’s face for emphasis, “that means no trespassing.”
I look at Sabrina and chuckle, “She doesn’t understand a word you’re saying. She doesn’t speak English.”
“Then translate it,” she demands, never removing her eyes from the stunned woman’s face. Normally I’m not one to cave to anyone’s demands, but this is just too good to pass up so I translate it. We both stand there staring at her as she numbly nods her head up and down in a state of shock. I’m certain, up until this point, the woman assumed she would only have me to deal with. I’m not one to be a bully but she started it and if the pecking order doesn’t get established early on in the games, it can mean years of problems for me in the future.
Sabrina moves in even closer and pokes the girl in the chest. “You had better watch your mouth and you damn sure better stay away from Antonio Wayne Ramirez because if you don’t, you’re going to have a cage fighting guard dog ripping your fucking throat out. I can tell by looking at you that you can’t fight worth a shit and we both know it, so shut up, mind your own fucking business, stay away from the boss, and we’ll be cool!”
I’m translating this shit. There is no way I’m letting an opportunity like this pass me up. In my world, it’s kill or be killed and I am not going down.
As soon as I finish interpreting, Sabrina and I both look up to see Antonio Wayne leaning against the doorframe. Oh fuck, how long has he been standing there?
Alexis sits down and starts refreshing her make-up to make sure she stays out of the line of fire. It’s a smart move and, really, I wish I could do the same. He grabs my arm, leading me out the door and commanding Alexis and Sabrina to continue training the girls for club work.
I think I would feel a whole lot more secure if we weren’t headed back to the castle because going home early can mean only one thing. We’re headed to the dungeon…
Chapter Nineteen
Roxanne
“Roxanne, Roxanne, Roxanne, I’m very disappointed in you!”
“Are you telling me I’m in trouble for confronting that bitch when she started it?” I question as I eye him through the bars of the cell that he has locked me in.
He chuckles as he eyes me, jerks a folding chair to the front of the cell, and relaxes his long frame into it. I’m certainly glad this is entertaining for him because I’m not happy about being in this fucking cage.
He stretches his legs out and leisurely crosses them at the ankle. He then interlocks his fingers behind his head like he has all night to interrogate me. A feeling of Déjà vu overcomes me as I’m reminded of the first night I spent as his captive.
I immediately note when his expression changes and I can feel a chilling fear run up the back of my spine. It suddenly hits me that this is about more than what he witnessed in the dressing room. Though his voice and his demeanor are cool, I know my husband well enough to know that he is pissed.
“Roxanne,” his black eyes coldly cut through me as he speaks, “I feel betrayed.”
Oh shit, I have to go and piss off a man who tortures people for a living. Why do I always suddenly remember his professional torturing abilities when I’m in trouble?
“Antonio, what is going on?” I don’t get half off the sentence out before his voice cuts through me once again, “Callate, Shut up!”
By now, I have crouched down in the corner and I’m eyeing him with trepidation. This is one of the times that he is really scaring me. The only time he gets this mad is when I talk about leaving. Suddenly it hits me. He must have heard me talking to Alexis on surveillance. Damn it! It’s so easy to forget that he keeps track of everything. If I thought that I was scared the day that I had been delivered to him, it is nothing compared to this. I didn’t know what to except from the stranger who would become my husband then, but now, I know how ruthless he can be.
He stands and holds on to the bars of the cage as he coldly states, “Perhaps I should stop treating you as my wife. Maybe I should treat you as a slave!” He slowly crooks his finger in my direction and I shake my head no. He kicks the bottom of the bars and I jump. My heart starts to race as I begin to feel the fight or flight instinct overcome me. When he opens the cage door, I’m in no position to do either and all I can do is cower against the back bars.
“Please don’t hurt me.” Tears pour down my face as I plead with a man whose heart holds no mercy for me whenever I threaten to leave him.
“Oh, it is a little late for that. Your fun is just beginning,” he chuckles. Once again, it is a sinister laugh and there is an emptiness in his coal black eyes that frightens me.
He brutally grabs me by a handful of hair and pulls me from the cage. I grab the bars, hanging on, screaming, and trying to avoid the inevitable.
He latches down on a pressure point between my neck and shoulder. “You better let go, girl!”
It hurts like hell and I can’t help but let go of the bars. He slams me against the cage, grasping the bars and pinning me in with a hand on each side of my head.
He gets right in my face and pulls my bottom lip down with his thumb. “Roxanne, don’t fuck with me. You already know that pain is how I make my living.”
I’m trembling now as I plead, “Tony, please don’t hurt me.”
He grabs my face and squeezes so hard that I’m sure I’ll have bruises in the morning.
“I’m not Tony to you anymore! I’m not Antonio, I’m not Tony, I’m not Antonio Wayne, and I’m damn sure not your little Colombian thug! Your terms of endearment mean nothing to me!” He hisses so hard that a spray of spit mists through the air as if there is venom in his words.
“Right now, you would do well to call me Sir!” He sadistically smiles. “Your biggest worry right now is whether or not you’re going to make good on your threat to leave me.” He coldly eyes me. “Let’s just say that your life depends on what decision you make!”
He drags me up the steps and into the master bedroom bath and commands me to strip. I strip down and he places me in the shower, commanding me not to move.
I wait as he removes his clothes and then starts the water. The bastard takes the shower sprayer in his hand and purposely sprays it in my face, watching as I shake my head back and forth choking.
“I can’t breathe. Please, Tony, I’m sorry. I never should have said I was leaving. I’m sorry.”
“Your lies mean nothing to me and my fucking name is… Sir!”
He roughly washes my hair and retrieves a loofah. After soaping it up, he begins to scratch up and down my body, brutally cleaning me. Tears are flowing down my face as I cry from the stinging pain. He tosses the loofah down and eyes me, slamming his hands against the wall on either side of my head and causing me to jump.
I watch him as he shakes his head and water droplets sail through the air. There is no doubt that he has me captivated. His coal black hair and eyes have always mesmerized me. I’m intrigued with a fucked up man who has abandonment issues and God only knows what else going on inside him. I’m just as fucked up as he is. This love we share is dysfunctional at best and yet we’re addicted to not only it, but also each other.
I can feel his hard cock pressing against me. My body has a mind of its own and responds to him instantly. The moisture freely gathers between my legs. As fucked up as my husband is, he is in love with me and any thoughts of me leaving make him crazy. He is exactly what society warns women to stay away from and I’m as fucked up as he is because I feed off of the obsession and pain he provides me. Whether we want to admit it or not, we’re in love. It is a dark, tormented love and yet, it is love nonetheless.
He is all I have ever known. I’ve never known another man and I’ll remain true to him. I was a virgin when I was forced to marry him and I have no intentions of ever breaking the sacred vow that we share. Regardless of the dark nature of our obsession with one another, it is sacred.
His cold scoffing cuts through my thoughts as I see him cock his head to the side and squint his eyes. I’m almost embarrassed that he knows I’m turned on.
“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”
I hang my head as a wave of shame washes over me because he can read me so well.
He dips one of his long fingers in me and I melt against the wall. “Ahh, ahh, ahh,” I groan. He sadistically smiles. “They don’t call me the Magic Man for nothing, my little runaway.”
“You arrogant bastard.”
“Yes Ma’am, I am.”
He leans in and whispers in my ear, knowing that it will send me right over the edge. “You better not come or I’m going to fuck you raw when we get out. I’m going to hurt you with my cock.”
“Aaaaahhhh,” I scream out as my body convulses against the wet shower wall.
He keeps plunging his finger in and out of me, stimulating my clit. He watches with interest as I turn to putty in his hands.
He loves to play with me and nothing will ever change that.
He pulls me from the shower and grabs a towel as he makes his way out of the bathroom, pulling me behind him.
He tosses me on the bed and stands next to it while eyeing me with a cold, angry look. Whether he wants to come to grips with it or not, he was hurt when he heard me say that I was leaving. I should know by now that it only serves to stir up old, buried emotions and feelings of abandonment for him.
“You had better not move, Roxanne.”
I know the mental strategy all too well. He is daring me to move in order to make a point. I can live life with him easy or I can live life with him hard and demanding, being no more than a woman available to service him. The choice is mine but the choice to leave is not an option. It never has been and it never will be. In my world, it is the one thing that remains true—living without Antonio Wayne is not an option. To put it simply, he will never let me go.
“You bitch, you beautiful fucking bitch,” he hisses as he nuzzles
in my wet hair and slides himself into me. With one smooth move, he plunges into my depths. My body clamps around him, welcoming the intrusion. He fills me in every crack and crevice of my being. He touches the very core of my essence, making his way effortlessly past all the walls I try to construct against him.
If there is a place on earth that can be described as paradise, it must pale in comparison to what I experience in my husband’s bed.
“Antonio, please, please, please don’t hurt me.”
Suddenly, a streak of mischief passes over his visage and he begins work his way in and out of me with expertise. He rotates with all the right moves as he watches my body with intrigue. Orgasm after orgasm flows through my body. He looks at me like he will never tire of me as he has other women. I know my husband is in love with me and like it or not, I’m in love with my husband.
Once again, we will fall asleep in one another’s arms, connected in so many more ways than one. We can run, we can hide, and we can deny it, but regardless of how an outsider would view our relationship as being unhealthy, we are in love.
It’s the crazy kind of love. It’s the dark, passionate, and dysfunctional love that makes you feel so deeply that your insides coil and spring to life. I would rather love like this than to go through the rest of my life in a day-to-day, regimented funk. I need to feel or I’m not alive. With my husband, I am alive…
I manage to spend the next day away from everyone. I have a tendency to retreat inward when things get too crazy. I keep my nose out of trouble and stuck in a book for the day, giving Tony time to cool off.
When I know it is time to get ready, I begrudgingly drag my ass through the shower and make my way over to Alexis. She grabs a couple of pain pills and hands them to me and I gladly take them. My head feels like it’s in a vice grip.
Alexis pilfers through Antonio’s office and steals pain pills all the time. I think it’s funny that she actually believes he isn’t watching her on camera.
The Club Page 11