by Romi Hart
“I didn’t know I was in a hurry. How fast was I going, officer? I kind of got lost in the road,” he said amicably.
“You got a license and some registration? What about proof of insurance?” the officer asked, avoiding his question. Harrison gave a curt nod.
“You mind if I reach into my saddlebag for the insurance and into my pocket for my wallet?” Harrison asked, keeping his hands glued to the handlebars, a gesture he knew most officers appreciated.
“Reach around for your driver’s license first, please,” Officer Giles stated firmly. Harrison gave another nod and slid his hand to his back pocket, grabbing his wallet and flipping it open to his ID so he could place it in the officer’s outstretched hand.
“Here you go,” he stated. The officer nodded and glanced down at the saddlebag.
“Which saddlebag is it in?” Officer Giles asked. Harrison nodded to the one closest to the officer, on the left.
“That one right there, sir,” he stated.
“Alright, get it.” Harrison reached into the bag and located the paper quickly, offering it without a word. “Looks like everything is checking out. Let me go run your license to make sure,” Giles stated.
Harrison nodded, placing both hands back on the handlebars.
“Sit tight there, son. I’ll be right back.” Harrison sighed as the cop walked back toward his patrol car and glanced in the rearview mirror.
Talk about a major disruption to my meditative state.
Several long minutes ticked by before Officer Giles returned and handed him his documents. “You check out. Is that regalia of yours legit?” the officer asked, nodding toward Harrison’s vest.
Harrison furrowed his brow. “Yes, I’m a patched member. We enjoy riding from time to time. Just a bunch of bike lovers, nothing more.” Harrison grimaced. What’s this guy trying to insinuate?
“I see. Well, you may want to tell your friends that doing 75 in a 55 is illegal. Here’s your ticket,” the officer announced handing it over and lifting his hat in a Texas salute. “Have a nice day.”
Harrison’s eyes narrowed, but he kept his mouth shut. The last thing he wanted was to piss the guy off any more than he already had. He sighed and fired up the ignition, rolling onto the road at a respectable speed. “Fucking cops,” he muttered in annoyance, aiming the bike for the strip club and the continuous flow of drinks he intended to pour down his throat, drowning his woes and stress.
* * *
The strip club back door flew open and banged against the wall loudly as Harrison walked in. He didn’t expect to see Eli, though the two had been working together closely on the effort to secure the strip joint for the MC.
He could understand why Eli was backing off, now that they’d signed the bottom line. Rory was a hot chick, and she seemed to have Eli’s back like a true old lady would, a ride or die kind of bitch. Admittedly, if Harrison had been interested in something like that, he could imagine Rory being the perfect fit for it. In all honesty, if Eli hadn’t snatched up Zeke’s old lady’s best friend, he probably would have worked some of his magic on her. So, it was no wonder he wanted to spend less time at this dive and more time with the woman he’d proposed to.
But as far as Harrison was concerned, with the club contract signed, he knew there would be plenty of hotties to choose from. And that was something he definitely wasn’t going to miss out on. Despite the ticket that waited in his saddlebag, he was intent on trying to enjoy himself and the excitement of all the big busted women that would be hanging on his arm and trying to hop on his dick.
Striding down the hall, he approached one of the prospects standing at the far end. “Are you all the security detail for this area?” he asked. The prospect gave a light nod. “That’s not going to work,” Harrison remarked. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
He continued through to the main floor and toward the bar, but not without casting a passing glance at the beautiful girl owning the stage.
Skye.
He sucked in a breath and pressed his lips in a tight line as he leaned over the bar. “Get me a rye whiskey double shot. And why the hell is there only one person on security detail at the back entrance?” he asked gruffly. Ever since Skye had been attacked and Rory had been shot, they’d bumped up security significantly here and anywhere the star of the show went. Though Harrison hated to admit it, he hadn’t been able to clear his mind of the incident, not being here when it went down, and he constantly worried about Skye ever since her old boyfriend had patched with the Vipers and led that whole insane shootup.
“I’m not sure. I think Eli’s coming in any time,” the bartender shouted over the music, pushing the drink in front of Harrison. “If it’s such a big deal, why don’t you guard it?” Harrison snorted slightly and knocked the drink back in one gulp.
“Because I want to enjoy the scenery for a minute before I go to work,” he retorted, gazing back at Skye as she finished up her routine.
“Yeah, I bet,” the bartender muttered, walking away. His job was to serve the drinks, not have a damn opinion on Harrison’s extracurriculars. It was a good thing he’d disappeared before Harrison listened to the part of him that liked a good rumble and said or did something he’d regret later.
“Hey, Harrison!” a pretty brunette called as she sauntered up to him. Scantily clad would have described her in a generous light because her clothes seemed more like tattered cloths, barely covering necessities and leaving damn near nothing to the imagination.
He grinned appreciatively, his eyes running down to the firm and ample swell of her exposed breasts. “Hey, June,” he greeted with a wink.
“How come you haven’t come by these last few days?” she asked as she slipped her body in closer to his barstool, her hands sliding atop his knees as she looked back at him.
“Oh, just been a little busy lately. Trust me, doll, I wouldn’t forget you for the world.” He chuckled. June grinned and leaned in closer, pressing her bare tits against his body.
“Fancy a lap dance to make you feel better? Free of charge,” June purred up at him, her hands crawling further up his thighs with an eagerness that brought a wicked chuckle from his lips.
“Back lounge?” Harrison asked. June grinned.
The tapping of high heels brought his head swiveling around toward the sound, and his eyes widened as Skye approached.
“Hey, Harrison,” she greeted with a polite nod.
He turned his gaze back toward June and nodded, ignoring Skye. “Go on, I’ll follow you,” he growled. Skye’s eyes followed as he moved past her abruptly, his eyes glued to June’s ass like a target on a deer’s back. Still, he heard every word of her conversation with the bartender as he walked away.
“Whatever, asshole. Go get yours.” There was a brief silence, and he saw her take his vacated barstool from the corner of his eye. “Geez, what’s with these assholes?”
“They’re full of shit?” the bartender joked.
“Funny,” Skye muttered, glancing back toward the center stage. “How long has that pole been up?”
“Long enough to have gotten more hot puss than an entire squadron of soldiers.” The bartender started laughing.
Just before they passed through the double doors, he heard Skye’s reply. “You’re a riot. Get me a drink, please? The usual.”
Harrison followed June through the side hall and down to the VIP rooms. By now, June had grasped his hand and was leading him toward the room of her choice, “I’m so glad to see you, Harrison! I’ve been scared shitless coming to work every night after all the crazy shit around here. You know, I’m pretty sure there’s been a few Ravens here, even since all that mess ended,” she rattled on, opening the door and pulling him inside.
Harrison sighed and followed, lowering himself to the couch quickly. “Doll, there’s nothing to worry about. Not while I’m around,” he added smugly. June grinned, slipping down to her knees, her eyes lifting to meet his as she slid her tongue out in a teasing arc over her lips. Wi
th a slight giggle, June began to crawl toward him.
“Is that so?” she asked, batting her eyelashes as she drew closer to him. Her fingers slid up between his legs, and she parted them as she popped up between them, just inches from his cock.
He leaned forward, his face inches above June’s as he drew out his index finger and lightly traced along her jaw, his voice low and husky as he whispered, “Sugar, that’s law.” He winked, leaning back until his spine pressed completely against the backside of the couch. Sinking into the cushions, he tilted his head as June began her routine, his eyes running over every finely sculpted curve of her luscious figure.
God, I lucked the fuck out with this job.
His lips spread out to reveal his teeth, a smile that reflected his lust and appreciation. June suddenly turned around, gyrating her hips slightly as she began to work her body to the rhythm of the music. She popped over to shake her round ass in front of him, and he slipped his hand to his pocket, pulling out a loose twenty. Stuffing it into her G-string, he gave her right ass check a firm slap.
June’s flesh vibrated just slightly from the smack, and she flipped her hair slightly, twisting her torso as she turned around to face him.
“It’s just with all this commotion lately,” June began, slipping her hands down her sides as she slid back down to her knees, “it’s hard to know what’s safe and what isn’t. Or when someone might show up and start popping shots again like some western.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “You worry too much, doll. I promise, all is well with these cowboys on your side,” Harrison said with a wink. And if he was a real good cowboy, he’d get this girl to ride tonight.
* * *
Harrison scowled. He and June had hooked up last night, but the last thing he wanted was for her to get the wrong idea. They weren’t an item, and as hot as June was, they never would be. He had a reputation for a reason, and he wasn’t going to settle down like his pansy ass club brothers any time soon.
But last night, he’d screwed up. Having passed out in the lounge, he awoke to find June curled up next to him like a kitten. “Fuck,” he said lowly, recalling how he barely got out of the club without her waking up. Better yet, he was glad to see that, when he left, Skye was nowhere in sight. Sure, he had been concerned for her, but he didn’t want her getting any further under his skin. He didn’t need added drama from the strippers, any of them for any reason. He just wanted to enjoy their company, nothing more.
Back on his bike, the wind bit at his skin. The morning air was cool, with pockets of hot air flaring up, warming his face as he cut through. He needed to take a few days’ breather from the club, but the lack of security was a perplexing issue he felt needed addressing. That was part of the reason they’d endeavored to take over the club. Instead of taking the measly pay for security, they would take the full profits and simply do what they wanted in terms of rules, design, and security. It was a lucrative investment in every way.
Even so, he didn’t want to go flocking back to the strip club any time soon, though on the other hand, he felt obligated to make sure the Devil’s Flames’ business wasn’t affected. He had, after all, been one of the three most outspoken members pushing the purchase. It left him literally between a rock and a hard place, and he wasn’t sure what might be the best solution.
He maneuvered the bike into the MC clubhouse parking lot and knocked his kickstand out as he turned off the ignition. Snorting slightly, he pulled his bandana from his face and made for the entrance.
Keep your distance. Get Eli to cover for a couple days.
Yes, it would be just fine, Harrison thought.
But, fuck, if something did happen to her...
He’d never live down the guilt of having been so selfish as to insist he needed a break.
She’s the star of the show, and she plays the tough bitch, but she’s vulnerable.
“Want to lose twenty bucks today?” Guy asked casually in his usual greeting.
Harrison shook his head. “Sorry, I already lost that to a stripper. June.”
“Fuck my luck. You sure you don’t have another you’d care to part with?” Guy joked.
“Not today, bro. Is Rafe or Corey around?”
“I think Corey’s in the office. Rafe might be out in the shop. Is something up?”
“No, I just think we need to tighten security at the strip joint. I walked right in the back door, and we have one prospect at the end of the hall. That shit isn’t good enough,” Harrison scowled.
Guy nodded. “Yeah, you’re damn right about that.”
Harrison waved him off and began walking toward the back. He needed to talk to the president or VP about his concerns. And, while it was true that he’d been there last night, he couldn’t be there every night. Either he or Eli needed to come up with a game plan to keep the business safe. Otherwise, what the hell was the point of buying it?
Tapping against the wooden door of the back office, he waited patiently until Corey’s voice filtered called out, “Yeah?”
“Hey, it’s Harrison. You got a minute?” he asked.
“Door’s open,” Corey replied. Harrison opened the door to step inside.
“Where’s Eli?” he asked.
“Probably with Rory,” Corey shrugged. “Why?”
“Everyone down at the strip club is still paranoid over Skye’s attack. The security detail fucking blows down there. We still don’t have enough men on it. I slammed right through the back entrance without any problem. What would have happened had I been a Raven?” he asked.
Corey’s eyes narrowed. He obviously wasn’t happy with the assessment, but what was Harrison supposed to do? He had every spare man he could trust not to be more interested in pawing the girls than doing their job onsite all the time. It just wasn’t enough. “We just closed on the deal, so it’s going to take time to get more guards in, especially with the vetting process. We don’t want to hire just anyone, right? At least it wasn’t totally left unguarded,” Corey pointed out.
“I get that, but we need to protect those girls. The whole point of taking over was to make sure we could beef up security without impacting our bottom line and to make money instead. Those women are living assets. Without them we don’t have much of a business,” Harrison said.
“I know, and I’m going to talk to Eli about it this afternoon. We’ll have some more guys down there by the time the weekend rolls around,” Corey promised.
“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear. I’m hitting the shop,” Harrison said, saluting Corey with a wave and walking back out the door. He wasn’t thrilled with having to wait, but at least they had reinforcements coming in for the weekend rush.
“Ya sure about that game, bro?” Guy called to him as he sauntered through the main room.
Harrison shook his head and offered a wave. “I need to keep every penny I’ve got. I landed a nice, fat ticket yesterday,” he stated, slipping out the door and moving toward his bike.
How the hell was he supposed to take care of that damn ticket, secure the girls and the strip club, and still keep his sanity? He needed to do a little maintenance on his ride real fast so he could get on the road and clear his head.
2
When a woman had a goal and a background that didn’t quite match, ambition was the only choice she could make. At least Skye viewed the world that way. Sure, there were those who had a different outlook, such as those who leaned on a man to make their way, but when it came down to brass tacks, Skye had learned from her mistakes. She’d grown up true Hard Knocks. And it seemed that a rare bravado had formed for her, the ability to keep on kicking through multiple TKOs. Lately, it seemed like the hits just kept on coming.
Being a stripper wasn’t exactly her career goal, but she made great money at it and had learned over the past few years she could put on a hell of a show. And that’s when the gears started turning and she started forming her own ideas for a new life, a new career in the making. Once it began, Skye conceived the
perfect blue print for an elegant and respectable exotic club. Not a strip joint or a dive like this place, but a gentlemen’s club, pricey and selective with the clientele.
And she’d be the owner, the boss, not the commodity.
After the shooting incident, Skye found it hard to go back to work and considered moving on, but that ass-kicking ambition hit her square in the ass, and she knew she couldn’t quit. Not if she wanted to succeed in earning enough to accomplish her mission. She had hoped that, since the Devil’s Flames MC bought the club, the security would improve, but after her routine ended and she glanced down the dressing room hallway, her hopes tanked. She wasn’t asking for instant miracles, just a feeling of safety.
Normally, she would have made a beeline straight for her room to change her clothes, but with the lack of men posted, she hesitated, glancing back and refusing to make that short but alarming trek. Slipping her arms into a silky black kimono-style robe, she wrapped it around her body and tied it off at her waist. She strode to the bar and spotted Harrison, one of the Devil’s Flames she didn’t know nearly as well as Eli. He’d been working alongside Eli, and she’d definitely taken notice of him. In fact, she and Rory had talked about Harrison a bit, and she felt he would be responsible for making sure the strip joint had guards in the right place, at all times. She felt strongly that, under his supervision, even with Eli dialing it back a little, nothing like the other night would happen again.
She wanted to talk to him, let him know she was still nervous and maybe ask if he’d walk her back. And if maybe, going forward, they could have at least two men on the hall for security, one at each end. So, she stepped forward, noting the skinny new brunette, June, glued to his side.
“Hi,” Skye hedged. Harrison’s eyes flickered over her with a look of annoyance as he pulled June closer to him.
“You ready for that dance?” he asked, looking at June as he avoided Skye with obvious intent. She blinked in confusion as June giggled and piped up,