Hero Force United Boxed Set 1

by Baron Sord

  Check your voicemail. It’s an emergency.

  Then I waited.

  After five minutes, nothing.

  This couldn’t wait. She needed to know now. My only option was to go inside Flashbacks and check. I had promised her repeatedly I wouldn’t. She would never forgive me if I did.

  Before going off half-cocked, maybe I needed to check the Flashbacks parking lot for a black SUV. The lot was hidden behind the building and surrounded by a tall chainlink-and-barbwire fence. If the SUV was not there, I didn’t need to go in the building. I could wait out here and watch for the SUV. Maybe it wouldn’t even show.

  Yeah, I’d start with the parking lot.

  Pulled my ninja mask down and opened the door.

  My Robot phone buzzed in my pocket.

  Kristy.

  Thank goodness she replied to my text.

  I pulled out my Robot to read it.

  Stazia Wilcox: Sorry for over-reacting the other day. What r u up to?

  No way.

  Stazia was texting me?

  No fricking way.

  After our texting disaster Wednesday, I had been 100% certain Stazia would never text me again. Now she was texting me and apologizing?

  It was a fricking miracle.

  The Stazia situation demanded my immediate attention. I had to craft the perfect text that opened the door to the next text, and the next. And perhaps a phone conversation. If I was lucky, that would lead to a face-to-face conversation and I could fix things between us.

  I grit my teeth.

  I didn’t have time to think of the perfect text. I had to go check the parking lot for a black SUV and possibly go inside to warn Kristy.

  What was I going to do?

  Then it occurred to me that Stazia was texting me on a Friday night. I would’ve assumed a beautiful woman like her would be out partying at bars with friends or out on a date with some other stud. Perhaps she was, but that didn’t prevent her from texting me. Whatever the case, she was clearly still interested.

  Yes!

  I would text Stazia as soon as I warned Kristy. That wouldn’t take more than a few minutes. Stazia could wait that long. Let her think I was out on a date with some other woman.

  Sometimes making women wait made them want you more, not that I knew from experience. Er, I mean, if you didn’t count Vanessa or Justine or Stazia, but they didn’t all count, did they? Wow, when I had I turned into a heartthrob?

  Smiling to myself, I slipped out of the Prius and skulked around the side of the Michaels building. Jumped onto the 25 foot roof. From there, I could see the entire parking lot behind Flashbacks.

  Several SUVs were parked there, but no black SUV.

  I waited.

  Two minutes later, Stazia texted again: Call me if u want. I’m home.

  There was your proof, and she’d only had to wait minutes before wanting me more.

  I couldn’t believe my luck. Then I groaned because I really wanted to call her. There was a good chance she might invite me over now. If she did that, I was certain we would pick up where we’d left off last Saturday. I could feel it in my boner. I meant my bones.

  Sadly, Stazia couldn’t have picked a worse time.

  Once again, someone else’s safety — Kristy’s — took precedence over my sex life with Stazia.

  Groaning to myself, I could already imagine where this was going. You probably can too. My soon-to-be ex-fiancée (whether it be Stazia or some other unlucky woman in the future) would say, “But, honey! It’s our wedding day! You can’t skip out on our wedding just to go save a bunch of babies from a burning building! You did that last night! And the night before! Do you plan on skipping out on our honeymoon too?”

  Like I said, soon to be ex-fiancée.

  I sighed.

  Stazia would have to wait a little while longer.

  Hopefully she would.

  —: Chapter 50 :—

  Over the next ten minutes, I watched as several cars drove up to the front doors of Flashbacks. Each time, a valet took the car to park it in back while the customers walked inside.

  Suddenly, a black SUV pulled up.

  Five men wearing black leather jackets slithered out and walked into the building. At this distance, I couldn’t see any FwCK neck tattoos or recognize any faces.

  Didn’t matter.

  I thought, KRISTY! THOSE GUYS FROM THE DRUG WAREHOUSE ARE HERE! GRAY EYES AND HIS FWCK THUGS! YOU HAVE TO GET OUT OF THERE! I didn’t know if it was them for sure, but it didn’t matter. It was someone bad and she needed to know.

  I waited for a telepathic response from her but didn’t get one.

  Now I had no choice. I jumped off the Michaels roof, pocketed my ninja mask, and jogged around to the front doors of Flashbacks.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, buddy.” The guy blocking my way was a big bouncer in a tuxedo vest, long-sleeve white dress shirt, black slacks, and dress shoes. “Where you goin so quick?”

  I gasped, “My friend… She works here… I…”

  He smirked, “You ain’t goin nowhere til I see your ID.”

  “What? Why?”

  “18 and over.”

  I couldn’t show him my ID. He’d know my real name.

  “Show me your ID, buddy. Or get the fuck outta here.”

  KRISTY?! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!

  No answer.

  Tuxedo Bouncer said, “Something wrong with you, buddy?”

  “What?”

  “You high?”

  I shook my head, “No. I was just… I’m really stressed out.”

  “Aren’t we all,” he chortled. “Show me your ID and you can go inside and get real relaxed. Know what I mean?”

  I didn’t have any choice. I pulled out my wallet and showed him my California Driver’s License.

  He nodded, “Mind if I pat you down?”

  “For what?”

  “For weapons. Big guy like you?” As big and muscular as he was, he wasn’t any bigger than I was.

  “Sure,” I said.

  He stepped behind me and briskly patted me down, running his hands down my arms, sides, and legs. Rather thoroughly, I might add. With all the nightclub shootings of late, I wasn’t surprised.

  When he finished, he said, “Okay, have fun.”

  I walked through the double doors. Pink velvet curtains lay ahead. That was symbolism by design. This was the entrance to a pleasure palace. From behind the curtains, music blared while men whistled and cheered. I walked straight toward the pink curtains.

  “Hey!” A woman hollered at me from behind a ticket window to my left. “You have to pay the cover!”

  I stopped short. “What?”

  “The cover!”

  I sighed, “How much is it?”

  “Twenty bucks!” she shouted over the loud music.

  Thankfully, my most recent paycheck from YouDoIt had deposited today and I had some extra cash on hand. I handed her one of my precious remaining twenties and turned toward the pink curtains.

  “Wait! You have to buy drink tickets!”

  “What?!”

  “Two drink minimum! Twenty bucks!”

  “For two drinks?!”

  “Twenty bucks!” she barked.

  I handed her another twenty.

  She slid two paper tickets under the window.

  I grumbled, “They better be good drinks.”

  She didn’t even look at me.

  Whatever.

  I pushed past the pink curtains and walked into a black-lit wonderland. Place was huge. Hundreds of male customers sat on gold-and-velvet chairs, watching three different stages. Not only could I hear them hooting and hollering, I could hear all their thoughts, a jumble of sexually charged nonsense, one thought trampling over the next:

  —those tits and—!

  —fucking pussy so hard it—!

  —by the nipples like—!

  —that ass? It is a perfect fucking—!

  —bang the SHIT outta that—!

  No wonder K
risty hadn’t heard me calling telepathically from outside. I could barely hear myself think over the thoughts of these men.

  On the stages, flattering amber spotlights lit up three different fully-naked women with incredible bodies who snaked around brass poles or crawled across their stages like sensuous sex kittens. Ones and fives fluttered onto the stages like offerings to the gods.

  Okay, I’ll admit, I was slightly disappointed Lady Liberty wasn’t dancing naked on one of the stages, but I was mostly relieved because the five men in black leather were already somewhere inside and looking for her. If she were dancing, it would be easy for them to target her and do who knows what.

  I scanned the club looking for the five men.

  Circulating throughout the floor, dozens of gorgeous women in neon bikinis flirted with the male customers, sitting in their laps, nuzzling against them, taking them by the hand and leading them down a long hallway lit with pink neon waves that led to what I could only guess was some kind of private paradise.

  I wasn’t entirely sure how these places worked. Clifton and Rene had told me so many crazy stories about their strip joint escapades over the years, I didn’t know what was truth, exaggeration, or outright lies. I did know about lap dances — Clifton and Rene paid for them all the time and told me as much — but could you really pay the strippers extra for hand-jobs or blow-jobs? Or even sex? Not legally. Prostitution was illegal in California. That didn’t mean every stripper or strip joint followed the laws to the letter.

  Whatever the women truly did to the men, I could only assume Kristy did it too. How far she went, I could only speculate. The very idea made me grimace. I tried not to think about her being with hundreds if not thousands of men over the years and her doing all manner of dirty deeds to them. If she had, hopefully she had never done them dirt cheap.

  I repressed a disgusted shiver and resumed scanning the crowd, trying to pick out the black-jacket goons from the rest of the zoo.

  Circulating with the strippers were several more big bouncers in tuxedo vests and white button-down dress shirts. All wore headset mics. They were well organized.

  I sent my thoughts again: KRISTY? ARE YOU IN HERE?

  She probably wouldn’t hear me. This place was louder than a rock concert. If Kristy had heard me and was trying to respond, I might miss it over the noise. Maybe I could ask the bouncers to turn the music down. Ha ha.

  “GIVE THE LADIES A HAND, GENTLEMAN!” A hidden DJ roared over the PA system as the current song — Down In A Hole by Alice In Chains — thumped to an end and transitioned into the next song — Super Freak by Rick James.

  The crowd cheered, catcalled, and whistled.

  “Want a private dance, sexy?” a woman whispered in my ear, her tender hand sliding up my chest.

  I looked down into the smokey eyes of a smoking hot blonde with a smoking hot body that would make any man weep. Her bikini glowed neon pink on her darkly tanned skin, which seemed darker under the black light. The tiny bikini was so small, she may as well have been naked. It barely covered her nipples, let alone her firm breasts, which weren’t as large as Stazia’s, but were quite perky and had an alluring shape.

  I could feel the heat coming off the blonde’s body.

  Damn, she was hot.

  “Look at you,” she purred.

  “What?” I chuckled.

  “You’re cute.” Oh my God, this guy is hot! I would totally fuck him right now. Her hand was stroking my chest like she planned on doing exactly that. “You sure are hard… Abs too.” She ran her hand down my stomach. “Wow.” Fuck I want to fuck this guy. I’ve been looking at trolls all night, but this guy is a god. Woo! “I’m Crystal. What’s your name, handsome?”

  “Uhhh… Chance.”

  “You want a private dance, Chance? Just me and you?”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “A dance. In the back.”

  Was “private dance” code for have sex? Sure seemed like it.

  I almost said yes right then and there.

  Crystal was that hot.

  She flashed me a sexual smile with half-hooded eyes and thought, I will totally come all over this guy if he lets me grind him.

  Yeah, Crystal could easily rock my world.

  There was no doubt in my mind every guy in here would gladly empty their wallets for this woman if she promised to rock their world. That said, I couldn’t tell if Crystal expected me to empty my wallet for her or not.

  I didn’t care one way or the other because Stazia Wilcox was waiting for me to call this very minute, she had not asked me for any money, and she was actually slightly hotter than Crystal. If you factored in Stazia’s breasts, she was substantially hotter.

  More importantly, I was here for a reason.

  “Sorry,” I said politely to Crystal. “I’m looking for somebody.”

  “I’m right here,” Crystal smiled, still stroking me.

  I almost fell into those easy eyes of hers, but they were a bit too easy, if you know what I mean.

  “No,” I chuckled, “Someone else. Sorry.”

  “Okay.” She let her hand slide down my chest and abs. Then it trailed slowly across my crotch. “Don’t be a stranger. I’ll be here all night.” And thinking of you while I grind the next guy. Walking away, her pink thong was a thin slit highlighting her firm and athletic ass.

  It was impossible not to stare.

  Now I knew why guys came to strip joints.

  Partially hard and trying not to think about Crystal, I went back to scanning the crowd.

  Word of my presence quickly spread to the other strippers. I lost count of all the gorgeous women coming over to flirt and press their immense breasts — most if not all of them obviously fake, not that I was complaining — against me anywhere they could. Their thoughts said they were all aching to show me the best time I’d ever had.

  One, a redhead who had huge boobs that appeared real and the tightest body I’d seen all night, came up and whispered in my ear, “Wanna fu-u-u-uck?” Yes, she said the word “fuck” like it had two or more syllables, drawing it out with exquisite slowness, lengthening it, and milking it for everything that one word had to offer.

  “Uhhh…” I chuckled nervously.

  “I had my eye on you since you came in here, cowboy,” she said in a sensual Southern drawl, her eyes afire. “I am so wet and ready for you, I just can’t stand it!” She added a girlish squeal for emphasis.

  “Sorry, I’m not—”

  “Hush.” She pressed one finger against my lips. “I hear tell you said no to all them other girls. That right?”

  “Oh, uh, see, I—”

  “Forget about them. I swear to you, sugah, I will give you the best blow job you ever done had, if you’ll let me.”

  “Where, here?” I blurted.

  “Not here, sugah. What say you be a good boy and wait for me to get off work tonight, then you and I can mosey on home to my place for a spell. Then I promise you, sugah, I will get you off somethin fierce.”

  “Oh?” I snickered in disbelief. There was forward, and there was coming right out and saying it. And then there was Wet & Ready the Sensual Cowgirl here delivering a sexual oratory fit for the history books. Yes, I was amused. I offered her a friendly smile and said, “How much?” Because no woman was this forward unless there were strings attached, and I didn’t mean the G-string she was wearing.

  She tittered, “I don’t want your money, honey pie. I just want you to promise me one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You eat my honey pie. Then I’ll let you ride me all night long like the stallion you are cowboy. All night. You up for it?”

  Oh, I was up.

  Unlike the other strippers, Wet & Ready wasn’t thinking anything other than the words she was saying, which led me to believe she was serious.

  I could barely believe my ears. I snorted, “Are you for real?”

  “Are you?” she smiled.

  If she only knew.

 
; More importantly, I had Stazia waiting for my call. And, I was here to warn Kristy. Once I knew she was safe, I was calling Stazia immediately. Yeah, I could honestly say, I didn’t need to take Wet & Ready up on her offer, no matter how charming she was about it.

  I told her no.

  “Your loss,” she grinned. “But if you change your mind, I’m here all night…”

  “Thanks.”

  Good thing Arnold wasn’t here. He’d be berating me for saying no to all these nasty ladies, especially Wet & Ready. She was Arnold’s type: willing. He would also accuse me of being clinically insane. I would be hard pressed to counter-argue. Very hard… pressed. Something told me that would not be a problem for Stazia.

  Time to find Kristy, take care of business here, then go take care of Stazia’s business at her place.

  Too bad I didn’t see Kristy anywhere.

  The club was quite large, so she might be in another room or in the back. I noticed a smaller pink-curtained archway near one of the stages. The strippers went in and out of it frequently, but never with any customers. A dressing room of some kind? Kristy could easily be in there, but I couldn’t go barging in. There was a big bouncer standing guard beside the curtained arch.

  What about the hallway with the waves of pink neon lights? There was a constant flow of strippers coming in and out of it. The ones coming out held the hands of bleary-eyed guys who looked like they’d been to the moon and back on a sex rocket. The archway likely led to the location of the lap dances because I didn’t see any happening out here.

  Had Kristy been back there giving lap dances this whole time?

  If she had, I didn’t want to picture it. Not after the way Wet & Ready had come on so strong. Kristy wasn’t like that, was she? I did not want to think about that either.

  But I did need to find Kristy and warn her.

  I turned slowly, scanning the club and bumped right into—

  “Doug?! What the fuck are you doing here?!” Kristy was suddenly right in my face, furious. Unlike every other stripper who had smiled and gushed and pawed me with a genuine desire for sex, Kristy was pissed.

  And I mean pissed.

  I was vaguely aware of Kristy’s bikini out the corner of my eye as I pleaded, “Kristy, I—!”