I nod my agreement. “He’s never asked much about his mom, and I didn’t exactly want to tell him the details. I thought I’d gotten away with it, to be honest. When he first did, I just told him she’d died. But he’s obviously been curious, as evidenced bythat DNA fuckin’ debacle. I obviously hadn’t handled it as well as I thought.”
“Boy’s of an age to question where he’s from,” Saint says, rubbing his finger against his cheek. “And especially a kid like Ace.”
“Yeah,” Prez states innocently. “With a father like Freak, he’s probably wondering where his intelligence came from.”
After showing him my middle finger, I take my beer with a raise of my chin toward Saint. Then I turn my back on them and survey the room.
Sweetie is sucking Words off in the corner, and Star is sitting on Rattler’s lap. Heaven, though, she’s sitting by herself reading a book. It’s the latter I head over to. Trixie’s nowhere in sight. Thank fuck. Even if we hadn’t had that argument earlier, she’s not my normal go-to when I want a club girl. Been there, done that. Wasn’t very impressed.Yeah, I’m a fucking liar.Nevertheless, I’d tapped her ass just the once, and I hadn’t been back.
I approach Heaven. “Can I offer you something better than that crap you’re reading?” Grinning, she shows me the cover of her book, and hell if it’s not got a suggestive picture of a biker and a scantily clad woman on it. I snort. “You reading fuckin’ motorcycle club romance?” When she smirks, I continue, “Why fantasise when you can have the real thing?” I palm my cock so there’s no mistaking my meaning.
She replaces my hand with her own. “You think you can live up to my fictional boyfriend?”
“Hell, darlin’, I can leave him in the dust, as well you know.” It won’t be the first time Heaven’s graced my bed, for a couple of hours, never the whole night. Always kick the girls out after I’ve finished with them. I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding and certainly don’t want them to be catchingfeelings. I use them for what they’re there for when, like tonight, I’ve got an itch.
She gives my cock a gentle squeeze. “Well, no one’s ever done the things this biker has.” Her free hand lifts up the book to emphasise her meaning.
“Then come with me, and I’ll show you. And bring the book with you. Maybe there’s a scene we can act out.”
Her tongue licks her lips, and she needs no further encouragement to get moving. Carrying the novel, she skips up the stairs in front of me. I follow more slowly, enjoying the sight of her ass cheeks bouncing as she mounts each step.
An hour later, I’m exhausted and convinced I’ve put my back out. She’s laughing hysterically, but certainly can’t complain she’s not satisfied. I’m not sure where the author of that book she brought to my bed got her ideas from. But I’m certain I needed another hand, or even another dick, to get into some of the sexual positions. But we’d had fun, even I would be the first to admit that.
What I don’t want to own up to is when I closed my eyes, I saw Toni beneath me, and it was her voice I heard gasping my name. I’d come hardest when I’d mentally replaced Heaven for Ace’s aunt. Yeah, that’s something I’ll keep to myself. Ace would be horrified if he had any notion of the improprieties swirling around my brain.
After Heaven leaves, I take a quick shower, then lie on my bed, which still smells of sex, mentally noting to get the prospects to change my sheets tomorrow. Wondering whether I’m getting old, instead of returning to the clubroom, I admit defeat and let my body’s exhaustion take over, switch off the light, close my eyes, and without even knowing it, I fall asleep.
I awake to an, as expected, sunny Arizona morning. It’s Monday, so Ace has got school, and while we’ve madearrangements to meet Toni for dinner later, there’s nothing to interrupt my normal day.
While, as a senior officer, I’m technically the manager of Royals, our strip joint. But as I’m the enforcer and have other demands from the club, Stalker, our treasurer, acts in that capacity when I’m not around. I do check in regularly to make sure everything’s running smoothly. After a breakfast served by a, to me anyway, sullen Trixie, I take my bike and head that way.
A strip club by day is a sorry sight. Harsh overhead lighting brings, what, at nighttime, is a sultry atmosphere, into sharp, not very flattering relief. The colours, which under subtle lighting are alluring, look tired and jaded under the harsh light of day. In the centre of the area are tables and chairs, and around the sides are booths with padded seating, which I don’t want to inspect too closely.
The stench of disinfectant, mixed with lingering perfume, stale beer, and sex, hangs in the air, and around me, cleaners are busy cleaning. The stage, though, isn’t empty. Some of the strippers are practising their routines. And the man I’ve come to see, Stalker, is in the middle of them, demonstrating moves on the pole that I’d never have believed, had I not been previously subjected to his antics around the one installed in the clubhouse.
Are a man’s legs really designed to stretch that wide?I wince when his twirl finishes, and he ends up on the ground doing the splits. I resist the urge to cover my crotch in sympathy. But he just gets up grinning.
I approach. When he sees me, he lifts his hand.
“We should think about a ladies’ night with you as the main attraction,” I tease him. “I can picture it now, you, latex tights, and only wearing your cut. The women would flood in.”
“Fuck off. It’s a good workout. You’re just jealous of my muscles.”
“Ain’t jealous of anything.” I take a moment to flex mine. They’re more impressive than his any day. “You ready to talk me through the books now?”
Sliding his boots onto his feet, he stands and gestures the way toward the office. “After you.”
Once there, one of the staff brings us both coffees, then we get down to business. Stalker, as the money man, will produce the headlines when we meet for our weekly church, but here we often brainstorm the details.
The strip club, it seems, is doing okay, not spectacularly, but holding its head above water. Profit isn’t a major concern. It’s a front for our money laundering. But I always like knowing we’re making the most of any of our assets.
Stalker chews the end of a pencil. Fuck knows why, we use a tablet to keep track. “You know, you made a good point. A ladies’ night would go down well. But I’d have to find some male dancers who don’t mind getting naked.”
“Will you be putting yourself out there?” I grin.
“Fuck off.” His face tightens, then relaxes again as he adds, “But there might be a troop willing to come here. I’ll start asking around.”
“Same deal we currently offer?”
