by Colbie Kay
Demon grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks my head back. "Eyes on the mirror. You're so fuckin' tight, Dancer. See how perfect we are? You love it, don't you?"
"Yes!" I moan.
"You're a dirty little whore, aren't you? My perfect little slut," He groans as he thrusts in and out.
Any other time, I would curse someone for talking to me like that, but there is something about Demon...I like the words spewing from his lips.
"Yes, I'm a dirty whore," I yell out as I watch the way he fucks me. Our eyes are locked together in the mirror. His teeth are bared as he delivers each pulsing drive into me.
"Fuck, yes!" He roars like a wild beast.
My pussy aches with soreness, but my core is tightening with another wave of euphoria. "I'm gonna come!" I scream out, and that causes Demon to pound into me harder, rubbing against my g-spot.
My eyes widen as the sudden urge to urinate comes over me. "Demon, I think I'm going to pee."
"No, you're not. Let it fuckin' go."
He continues, not bothered by my confession. The pressure of his cock against my g-spot escalates until the overwhelming feeling of urinating is released. Fluid gushes down my shaking legs as I ride the wave of my orgasm in loud, crying pleasure. If I just pissed on myself, at this moment, I don’t care. Every feeling in my body is heightened as I continue to ride the wave of my climax. His name falls from my lips repeatedly in hushed whispers.
Demon bites down on the crook of my neck as he releases into the condom. His body trembles against mine, his hold on me tightening. He doesn’t pull away like I figured he would, but his lips tenderly kiss where he bit me.
"Holy shit what was that?" I ask breathlessly.
He spins me around to face him. "That was you squirting." He grins as if he's proud. Proud of himself, proud of me…I’m not quite sure which, but the way his eyes are staring at me so gently and lovingly, I’d say he’s proud of me. The change in him could give me whiplash.
"Jesus, that was intense." I blow out a breath in amazement. “I’ve never had that happen.” I laugh. “Well, I’ve experienced a lot tonight that’s never happened before.”
"Damn straight.” He chuckles. “I've wanted inside that little cunt of yours for years. I had to make it worthwhile." He winks as he let’s go of me and strolls off the stage, leaving me standing on stage not knowing what to do or where to go from here.
I decide to start putting my clothes back on, but when I grab my shirt, Demon’s voice startles me, “What’re you doing?”
My brows knit in confusion. “I’m getting dressed.”
He stalks toward me. “Put the shirt down, Dancer. I’m not done with you yet.”
I feel my cheeks flushing and my body igniting with a fiery blaze of desire. “I thought—”
My words are halted when he bends and grabs my thighs. He lifts me, and my legs wrap around his waist, our eyes meeting. “Stop thinking shit.” His lips press against mine. In a moment, his rough side is back as he walks us to the mirrors and pushes his tongue inside my mouth.
He breaks our kiss. “Stand against the mirror.” I drop from his body and do as he instructs. He steps back. “Take your bra off,” He orders. Reaching behind me I unclasp it and let the lacy material fall to the stage. His gaze travels over my entire body. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, Dancer. You’re the prettiest bitch I’ve ever laid eyes on.” I bite my lip to keep from laughing or saying something smart.
I finally really look at his body as he steps back momentarily. Demon has tattoos galore, muscles and abs, and thick thighs. His long hair is ruffled, and I wonder if mine is too. “You’re stunning, Demon,” I tell him, swallowing hard. My throat suddenly feels dry at the sight of his cock. I knew he was huge, but to see it is something else. It’s long and heavy with thickness, protruding veins pop from his shaft, and I’m thirsty for more. No matter how sore I’m feeling right now, I desire more. “I want you,” I whisper loud enough for him to hear.
His gaze becomes hungry as he steps toward me. His hands press against my stomach before traveling up to my breasts. Demon takes one in his hand, massaging me before his mouth descends. I drown in the sensation of his teeth biting into my flesh numerous times and the touch of his tongue’s caresses. One of his hands finds mine and intertwines our fingers. He raises our hands up the mirror and stares down at me. “I want you too. I’ve wanted you for far too long.” His mouth finds mine while I’m lifted into the air, and once again, he’s inside me.
I wake the next morning with a burning beam of sun hitting my face. Glancing over at my clock, it's late morning already. Shit! I didn’t even get in until daylight. I’m going to need a lot of coffee to get through this day and night with so little sleep. I start to sit up, wincing at how sore I am—probably a mixture of dancing and sex with Demon. It’s been a long time, years since I’ve done either activity. My fingers slowly lift to cover the grin forming on my face. I mean, did that really happen? Did I really have sex with Demon? Not just sex, but rough, hard sex at my job and more than once. My head falls onto my pillow, and I start giggling like a teenage girl, not a thirty-year-old woman. I’ve never done anything like that, and what the hell, we don’t even talk. The two men I had previously been with were my boyfriends. What’s it going to be like now when Demon and I see each other? My eyes drift to my closet, and my giggling stops as my smile slowly fades away and tears spring forth. I bite down on my lip and stare up at the ceiling as I try to blink away the threatening wetness. What have I done?
I can’t think about this anymore, so I stand on wobbly legs and stagger into my bathroom. Turning the shower on, I begin to remove my clothes and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My mouth gapes open as I step closer. What the hell did I let him do to me? My breasts and neck are riddled with bruises and bite marks, and I have small cuts where blood has dried.
I quickly jump into the shower, which immediately eases some of the discomfort I’m feeling. I pour some body wash onto the pouf and begin scrubbing my skin. As I’m washing my legs, I remember the tickling of his beard brushing against the flesh of my thighs, the touch of his tongue against my most private place. I close my eyes as an aching desire heats deep in my core. I came more times than I could count last night, how in the hell am I getting turned on now? My pouf drops to the shower floor.
My shiny silver showerhead is beaming at me. Normally, I would use my vibrating boyfriend that's hidden in the drawer with my panties, but at this moment, my bedroom seems so far away. I've heard things about showerheads. Why not give it a try? I unhook the nozzle and switch the setting so that it sprays in a hard stream. I lower it until I have it situated between my thighs, and when I get that first hit of water, my eyes widen. "Oh, that feels nice," I gasp. Thoughts of Demon drift into my mind: the dirty words he spoke to me, his roughness, his tenderness, his kisses, how downright sexy he is, the things we did last night. It all plays through my memory as the hot water sprays in exactly the right spot.
It doesn't take but a few seconds for that nice feeling to upgrade to exceptionally good. I spread my thighs a little wider to allow the hot water to really hit my spot. My legs begin to shake, and before I know it, my free hand slams against the shower wall and my eyes roll into the back of my head.
I let go of the showerhead as if it's possessed. My vibrating boyfriend might have been replaced!
My phone begins to ring as I’m pulling up my shorts for work. Glancing at the screen, I immediately recognize the number.
"Hello."
"I'm in town. Meet me at Bellow's Bridge in thirty minutes."
I sigh heavily, and the war within surfaces. "I'll be there." I hang up and plop down on my bed. What am I going to do?
I walk into Stilettos a few hours before we open so I can get everything stocked and ready for another busy night. Turning on the lights, my gaze travels around the big open, empty space. It always seems like two completely different clubs between the time I get here and the night’s end.
&n
bsp; I begin my daily routine except I have more work to do since I didn’t finish last night. Normally, I come in two hours early, but the extra hour will definitely help, and I won’t have to rush through my work. I start by scooting all the chairs out from the tables and vacuuming then moving them back into place. That adds an extra thirty minutes before I can get to the dressing room, checking the lockers to make sure no drugs or items have been left. We’ve had problems in the past with that shit, and Hacker doesn’t hesitate to fire the girls if contraband is found. Even though he does what he does with the Satan’s Sinners, he does his best to run this club as a legit business.
I move out onto the stage with clean towels and disinfectant spray. As I’m wiping down the pole, thoughts of what Demon did to me right here in this very spot drift into my mind. A small smirk plays on my lips; no one will ever know. Spinning around, I scamper back into the dressing room and leave a stack of fresh towels for the girls.
Finally, I begin stocking the bar and getting my station ready. An hour has already passed by in a blur, and before I know it, the girls begin strolling through the door with duffle bags in hand. “Hey, Dancer,” Each of them greets me as they swagger by.
“Hey, ladies,” I reply as I’m situating my glasses and putting bottles of beer into the coolers underneath the bar counter. It usually takes the girls about an hour or so to get ready with their makeup, hair, and in their first outfits of the night. Once they’re done, they join me at the bar. I set up a line of shot glasses and pour a stream of tequila down the line, filling each glass. They take their shot glasses, holding them up to mine. “Let’s have a good night and let that money roll in.” We tip the liquid back, and I grimace at the taste. Over the years, it’s become a tradition to have one shot before the night begins. New dancers tend to be extremely nervous, so it relaxes them, and for the rest of us, it’s a little bonding moment. I care about each of them, and we’re kind of like a big dysfunctional family, in a way. With an hour left before we open, Hacker, our DJ, and a few of the other Sinners come trekking through the door. All are greeted with smiles and nods.
The door opens once more, and the most terrifyingly sexy, sinful, dark, and dangerous of them all steps over that threshold. Demon. The man I had sex with last night. He’s never here two nights in a row, so why is he here tonight? My breathing stops as he moves closer to the bar. I always knew there was this crazy weird sex appeal to Demon, but as my eyes are glued to him, I see just how brooding and scary he can be.
I do my best at holding my own around these men, but Demon…the way I’m seeing him now, given what happened last night, is terrifying. He’s the one who could destroy me. Simply seeing him has my heart palpitating and my pulse beating in my ears. My stomach twists in knots and butterflies are swarming in my belly. It’s like one of those scary movies where you scream at the person to stay away, but they’re dumb and go looking for the killer. That’s me. I’m the dumb one who is going to get killed.
“Dancer,” He says my name with his rugged voice. He may not be a man of many words, but my name alone sends sparks of electricity rushing through me all the way to between my thighs. His tongue skims across his lips as his ice-blue gaze is transfixed on me.
“Demon,” I reply, trying to act normal, but what I really want to do is grab that beard of his and smash my lips against his. I want to fist his long hair and push his face between my thighs and feel everything he made me feel last night. Holy shit, I need to stop. I’m sure I was only a one-time fuck for him and here I am craving it again like a desperate woman.
He disappears into Hacker’s office. How am I going to get through this night with him here? Focus, Dancer.
At five, Stilettos is officially open. Men begin walking through the door and taking seats at either the tables or the bar. The DJ announces Hannah as the first girl of the night, and her first song starts trickling through the speakers. She sashays out onto the stage to perform her routine.
As I’m mixing drink after drink and opening bottle after bottle, one of our regulars calls my name, “Dancer?”
“What, Sam?” He’s younger than most of our customers. I’d say early twenties, clean-cut, and cute in that boy next door type of way. I’ve often wondered why he comes here instead of a regular bar since he’s not really interested in the entertainment. He watches from the bar, but never leaves his seat to tip them. He tips me great though.
“Why aren’t you a dancer here? You have a great body, and I would be your biggest fan.”
I fill a tray the waitress was waiting for with drinks. I miss the days when Jorga worked here, but I understand why she never returned after what happened. “Because I don’t dance.” I lightly laugh, trying to play it off. It was my dream for so long, and I always tell people I don’t dance. The only one who knows the truth is Demon. Last night was the first time I’ve danced in years, and it hurts whenever I deny what I love to do.
“It’s a shame.” He leans over the bar. “You would look great up there.”
“You just wanna see what’s under these tiny shorts and tank.” I pass him another bottle of beer. “Some things are better left to the imagination.”
I feel a tight grip on my hip, and it startles me. “You don’t dance, huh?” Demon whispers in my ear, sounding gravelly, I shake my head. “Better fuckin’ not for anyone except me. Understood?” The scent of smoke, leather, and oil makes me heady.
I swallow hard, and my breaths quicken.
Demon pushes me into the coolers with his front pressed against my back as he leans closer to Sam. “I’ll cut your fuckin’ eyes out and eat ‘em for a goddamn snack if you look at her like that again.”
Sam’s eyes grow, his shock and fear are evident. “I…I…I’m sorry.” He stammers and sits down in his seat. He quickly grabs some money out of his wallet and throws it on the counter before running for the door.
“Demon!” I screech and whip around to face him. With our bodies pressed against each other, I barely come to his chest. Looking up, I glare at him. “He’s one of my best customers. It wasn’t that serious.”
He reaches up with his hand, his thumb caressing my cheek, and I close my eyes at the gentle touch. He runs his hand through my hair and roughly grabs a fistful. I feel his breath on my ear. “I don’t fuckin’ play games. When I want something, I fuckin’ take it. I didn’t fuck you last night over and over just to pass you on to the next asshole. I won’t ask if you want more ‘cause I know you do, and when I want it, I’m coming for that greedy little cunt of yours again, and no motherfucker will ever take what’s fuckin’ mine.” He releases my hair, and my eyes flutter open to find he’s already gone.
Good God, what the hell just happened? I spin around and try to compose myself while everyone at the bar is staring at me with saucer-sized eyes. Those were the most words I’ve ever heard him speak at once, and it’s going to be a long night with the now soaked panties I have on. I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand and ask, “Anybody need a drink?” I blow out a deep breath of air and try to focus on my job as I pour myself a shot of tequila, downing it like water.
“Hey, brother.” Chayser sits next to me at the table before church is in session.
His eyes a deeper shade of blue than mine, glinting with what looks to be curiosity. “Brother.” His brow arches, and his lips draw up into a smirk. “Why the fuck are you looking at me like that for?” I ask with my own brows dipping, perplexed.
“You wanna tell me what that was with Dancer last night?” He takes one of his sandy blond dreads and twists it around his finger as if he’s a schoolgirl waiting for the juiciest gossip.
I answer nonchalantly, “Nothing to tell.”
“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me. I’m your blood.” He chuckles. “I know you, Demon, and you’re hardcore, but over a woman? That was a first.”
I lean closer. “I fucked the pretty bitch, okay? More than once.”
His head tilts up as if in understanding. “And now?”
I
run my hand over my long beard. “And now, I’m feeling some type of way.”
Church begins as Hanger shouts, “Brothers!” The whole room grows quiet as our attention focuses solely on our president. “We have a few things to discuss today. First, Demon and Chayser, I’m going to send you to Kansas City to meet with Ranger, the President of the Blood Makers MC, to up our supply for the Cobras and load a shipment of our guns and ammo. We have more customers coming to us and willing to pay top dollar.”
I jump in, “When do you want us gone?”
“I’ll let you know once Ranger says everything is in order. I want you and Chayser in the van. I’m sending Bear, Romeo, Pretty Boy, and a couple prospects to ride on their bikes. Demon, how are we lookin’ with money? The rebuild of our clubhouse last year took a good chunk of change from us, and we’ve been trying to get ahead since.”
I clear my throat and light up a smoke. After a long drag, I speak, “It’s looking good for us, Pres. Between the various businesses, what we’re making from deals with the guns, and our profit from the Cobras for their supply, we’re back to where we were before the explosion. I predict, from crunching the numbers, in another year or so, all of us and your Ol’ Ladies and kids will be sitting pretty and not have fuckin’ shit to worry about.”
Hanger grins and nods. “That’s what I like to hear. We fuckin’ push it, brothers, keep our contacts on our side happy and have them beggin’ for more like fuckin’ fiends.”
Bam Bam interjects, “My Ol’ Lady is wanting to go see Belle, so we’ll be gone for a few days.”
Hanger sits back in his chair. “I’m good with that. I don’t see needing you for anything right now, but if you want anyone going along, let me know. Speaking of Bam’s Ol’ Lady, Haven and Chapel are speaking more, so Snake is getting a little more information.”
