Carbon (Blackwings MC Book 4)

by Teagan Brooks

  We sat there in the same position, her in my lap, one hand on her hip, one hand still on her tit, while we caught our breath and came back to reality. She slowly climbed off my lap and took a step back. She smiled sweetly and brushed her lips against my cheek in the barest of touches. Before I could say a word or even respond in any way, she was gone. I wasn’t worried about that though. I knew I would be back.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Harper

  When I saw him in the club the next weekend, tingles of nervous anticipation shot through me. I tried to school my expression and continue with my performance as if I hadn’t seen him. I didn’t want him to know how much he affected me, how my body was aching to be pressed against his again. Keeping my eyes vaguely unfocused on the audience, I managed to make it through my performance without incident.

  Walking to the edge of the stage to collect my tips, I dropped to my knees and started working my way from one end to the other. I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to be there waiting for me or not. It dawned on me at that moment how foolish I was being. Just because he came back, didn’t mean he came back to see me. He could be looking for another girl to satisfy his needs.

  That thought was crushing. I was ashamed to say that I thought about him almost constantly the entire week. And it wasn’t just about the way he looked, though he had been the star of every late-night fantasy since I first laid eyes on him. I was going to have to replace my vibrator in the very near future if I kept going at the same pace. There was just something about him that I was drawn to. Something in the way his pale green eyes tracked my every movement. The way his fingers dug into my skin while he rocked my hips over him. The way he expertly brought my body to climax with only the barest of touches. I even started calling him Boe—Best Orgasm Ever—in my mind.

  I was suddenly embarrassed by my behavior, both during his private dance and the entire week after. Never had I fantasized about a client, let alone fooled around with one during a dance. Hell, as a rule, I didn’t even do private dances. I was overcome with the need to bolt from the stage and hide in the dressing room until he left, but I couldn’t, not just yet anyway.

  Continuing to move down the stage, I collected my tips faster than usual. Typically, I tried to spend a few seconds with each man in hopes to lure them back to another performance. I had been working at The Booby Trap for a couple of years and had quite a few regulars. Even though I worked as a dancer for an entirely different reason, I made decent money from the tips alone, and I truly did enjoy my job, so I hoped I didn’t offend any of my regulars, but I had to get off the stage before I had a panic attack in front of everyone.

  My pace increased the closer I got to the end of the stage. When I finally reached the end, I looked up to find piercing green eyes staring back at me.

  I gasped.

  He smirked.

  Then, he slid a bill into the very front of my G-string and, just like before, he dipped his fingers a little lower than he should to brush them against my bare skin. Tingles shot straight to my core and a shiver went up my spine. He winked and walked away, while I tried to remember how to stand.

  Once I was on my feet, I left the stage and all but sprinted to the dressing room, which was nothing more than a large room with vanities and racks of costumes. Collapsing into my chair, I dropped my face into my hands and shook my head. I couldn’t have a panic attack, not at work. No one at the club knew about my past. No one had ever seen me have a meltdown and I desperately wanted to keep it that way.

  I had been doing so well. I hadn’t had a panic attack or flashback in months, maybe even a year, and I had long since stopped going to therapy. I desperately tried to recall some of the exercises I learned in school to work through an attack, but my mind was a jumbled mess of frantic thoughts, which caused even more feelings of panic to consume me.

  A hand landed on my shoulder causing me to yelp and flinch away. “Pherra! Are you okay, honey?” another dancer named Ginger asked. Ginger was also dancing her way through college. I saw her on campus from time to time, but we didn’t have any classes together. I didn’t even know what her major was. It might seem wrong to some, but I tried very hard to keep my dancing life completely separate from the rest of my life. Ginger was a nice girl and someone I probably would have been friends with if she wasn’t a part of my dancing life.

  Taking in a large breath, I raised my head and answered, “I’m fine, Ginger. You just startled me is all.”

  She placed a hand on her cocked hip and appraised me. “Yeah, but were you okay before that?”

  I nodded. “I’m good. Just tired. I had a tough week at school and I put in a lot of hours studying. I didn’t get as much sleep as I should have.”

  “I bet Scott would let you go home early if you asked.”

  “I can’t yet. I’ve got to be on stage two more times tonight because Cinnamon and Cherry both called in,” I explained.

  “Well, try to get some rest until you’re up. I’ll come get you a few minutes before if you want to try to take a power nap,” she offered.

  “Thanks, but I’ll be all right. Only a few more hours left anyway.”

  I planned to stay backstage and out of sight until it was time for me to dance again. Rinse and repeat. After my last performance, I was going to hightail it out of there at warp speed. Then, I was going to go home and sleep. I was not going to think about the man from last week, who was currently in the main part of the club, and I was in no way, shape, or form going to touch on why his presence almost sent me spiraling into a panic attack.

  “Pherra! You back here?” I heard Scott call from the front of the room.

  My eyes darted wildly around the room, looking for some form of help or escape. Ginger answered him, “Don’t see her. She might be in the bathroom. You need her?”

  “Just remind her that she’s up again in 10.”

  I exhaled with relief. I thought for sure he was going to tell me Boe wanted another private dance. Ginger strolled over. “You heard that, right?”

  “Yeah, I did. Thanks for that.”

  She nodded and looked me over again. Hesitantly, she said, “You know you can talk to me if you need to. I know we’re not exactly friends, but I’m a good listener if you ever need an ear.” She extended her hand and patted my shoulder before strolling away. I would love to talk to her about my current issues, as soon as I figured out exactly what those issues were.

  Several hours later, my two stage performances were done and I was ready to get the hell out of there. Despite my valiant efforts, my eyes landed on Boe multiple times throughout each performance. Part of me was hoping that he would leave and another part of me was thrilled that he was still there. However, all of me wanted out of the club before he had the chance to ask for another private session.

  Pushing through the back door, I ran full speed ahead to my car and sped out of the parking lot with squealing wheels. I successfully avoided Boe and made it safely to my house, just as I wanted. So why did I feel like I missed out on something?

  CHAPTER THREE

  Carbon

  She left the club before I could set up another dance with her. I could tell my presence unnerved her when she was on stage, but I had no idea why. I hadn’t been able to get her out of my head all week. I craved more of her, which is why I drove a ridiculous distance to a strip club in a little college town instead of staying in Croftridge where there was a party at the clubhouse and guaranteed pussy.

  I left The Booby Trap frustrated and pissed as hell. When I got back to the clubhouse, I was still pissed. Not in the mood for company or anyone’s shit, I grabbed a bottle of whiskey and went straight to my room, alone. At some point before the bottom of the bottle, I decided that I would go back to see her, but I would have a plan so she couldn’t get away before I’d had my time with her.

  When I entered The Booby Trap, the first thing I did was find the manager. Lucky for me, he remembered me. I told him I wanted another private dance with Pherra and was will
ing to pay the same price as before. He informed me that she had another performance on stage before she would be free, if she agreed to the private dance. I knew she would. I had a feeling she enjoyed our time together as much as I did, which is why she did everything she could to avoid me the night before. Still, it would be foolish of her to turn down two grand for 30 minutes of her time.

  I was almost giddy when the manager, I now knew as Scott, led me to the back hallway. “You remember the rules from before?” I nodded. “Good. She’ll be in in a few minutes.”

  I sat in the same place as before and waited for her while my mind ran in overdrive. What would she wear? Would she speak to me? Would she let me touch her? Put my mouth on her? Would it end like last time? I was practically salivating when the door creaked open.

  She waltzed in wearing a slutty schoolgirl outfit, complete with pigtails. I rubbed my hand over my crotch and groaned. I couldn’t touch her unless she let me and I wanted nothing more than to bend her over my knees and turn her ass red until my palm hurt. She was pushing all of my buttons and she didn’t even know it.

  She turned on the music and started dancing, stripping off her top as she made her way to me. When she climbed into my lap, I was on edge. My hands were balled into fists at my side, every muscle in my body tensed. I was ready to push her off of me and leave before I did anything that wasn’t welcome. Then, she laid her hands on my cheeks and stared into my eyes. Everything else disappeared and my body relaxed. She smiled and leaned forward, capturing the tip of my ear with her hot little mouth. She whispered, ever so softly, “Touch me.”

  No need to ask me twice. My hands came up and landed on her waist. She nodded her head in encouragement. I slid my palms up her torso and cupped her full mounds in my hands. That’s when she started moving to the music again. I groaned. “You’re a naughty little minx.” She winked and continued her ministrations. “I want your tits in my mouth, baby. You gonna give that to me?”

  She slid her hand up the back of my neck and wove her fingers through my hair. Using her hand, she guided my head to her chest. I greedily latched onto her nipple and sucked hard before gently biting at it with my teeth. She moaned and writhed in my lap. Oh yeah, she liked that. I played with one for a few minutes before giving the other one the same attention.

  I was so caught up with her tantalizing tits that I lost all track of time. I had no idea how much time I had left with her, and I was going to be damn sure I made her come before the dance was over. I let her nipple go with a pop and brought my mouth to her neck. I didn’t kiss or suck on her neck, just let my lips rest against her skin while I breathed her in. With my hands firmly gripping her waist, I guided the rhythm of her hips so she could get what she needed.

  Both of her hands landed on my head, clutching fists full of my hair. She yanked my head back, dropped her forehead to mine, and stared into my eyes while she came and little gasps escaped her parted lips. It was by far the most erotic thing I had ever witnessed. While I watched in awe, she rode out her pleasure.

  I was still admiring her when she put her lips on my ear again. She ran her hand down my chest to the bulge in my jeans, rubbing me through my pants. I intended to stop her, to tell her that this wasn’t about getting me off, but it felt so damn good I wanted to enjoy it for a few more seconds before I stopped her.

  I don’t know how she did it, but before I knew what was happening, she had my cock covered with a condom and sucked into her mouth. All. The. Fucking. Way. “Oh fuck,” I groaned, leaning forward. “You don’t have to,” I gritted out. But I fucking wanted her to. Damn, her mouth felt good around my cock, even with it sheathed. And she didn’t even bat an eyelash at my piercings.

  I reached for her head and tried to ease her off of me gently. She subtly shook her head and moaned. The vibration had my balls ready to explode. She continued devouring my cock with her mind-blowing skills. “Baby, I’m gonna come,” I warned. She kept going. I reached for her again, but she shook her head. “Last chance before I fuck that pretty throat of yours.” She took me to the back of her throat and fucking swallowed my dick. That was it. Not even one thrust of my hips before I unloaded into the condom with a force that caused me to wonder if the tip was still intact.

  When I recovered from the explosion, she was still on her knees, gently cleaning me. I cupped her cheek and tilted her head so she could look at me. “You didn’t have to,” I whispered.

  “I know,” she whispered back, her lips curved into a soft smile while a faint blush stained her cheeks. “I wanted to.” She rose to her feet, kissed me on the cheek, and started gathering her clothes.

  “Pherra,” a voice called through the door. “Time!”

  “I’ll be right out, Scott.” Her voice was soft and melodic, something I wanted to hear much more of. She turned back and glanced at my pants; I assumed to make sure I was back to rights. “Goodnight, Boe.”

  What did she call me? Before I could ask, she was gone.

  ***

  I continued going to The Booby Trap once a week for several months. After the second private dance, she started charging me the standard fee; otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to keep coming back even if I wanted to.

  After a few weeks, being the greedy man that I was, I started scheduling her for two back to back private dances each week. Even that wasn’t enough for me. I wanted more from her; I just wasn’t exactly sure what more meant.

  Each week, we went through much the same routine. She danced for me, got me off, I got her off, and then we did it again. We barely spoke. Most of the words we exchanged were whispered in the heat of the moment with her mouth at my ear or my lips pressed against her skin. I wondered if conversation was the more I was looking for. What would it be like to enjoy her mind for the allotted time instead of just her body? I wanted to know more about her, but I was afraid it would shatter the fantasy world I had been living in.

  I couldn’t explain it, but she did something to me. When I was with her, the rage that was always churning inside of me, ever so close to the surface, seemed to disappear. Her presence calmed me, but her touch quieted me. Every time she put me under her spell, I relished in it.

  I didn’t see it coming, so I wasn’t prepared for the blow. I walked into The Booby Trap on a Friday night, anxious to see Pherra. I ordered a beer at the bar like I always did before grabbing a table. While I was at the bar, Scott appeared and slowly approached me with a grimace on his face. I studied him as he made his way to the end where I was standing, and I got the feeling I wasn’t going to like whatever he had to say. Maintaining my mask of indifference, I lifted my chin. “What’s up?”

  He looked down at the bar and, with just a few words, shoved me back into a sea of rage. “Pherra doesn’t work here anymore.”

  “What?” I croaked, trying to rein in my emotions.

  “She graduated from college and gave her notice as soon as she found a job in her field.” He reached into his pocket and slid a piece of paper across the bar to me. “She asked me to give this to you. Normally, we don’t do things like this, but for her to ask,” he paused and tapped the bar twice. “Well, you’ve been a good customer. It was the least I could do.”

  I continued to stare down at the folded paper long after Scott disappeared into the club. Ultimately, I took it with me, but I never bothered to open it and read her last message to me.

  On the ride back to Croftridge, I realized I needed to let her go. I had formed some sort of unhealthy attachment to her. My anger hadn’t calmed because she was something special. Hell, I hadn’t even fucked the girl. She just caused one hell of a distraction. Shaking my head, I focused on the road and the wind, determined to put all thoughts of Pherra out of my mind.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Harper

  Two Months Later

  A phone ringing in the middle of the night was never good news. Never. When my phone rang at 4:30 am, I was already awake. I’d been waiting for the phone to ring, hoping for good news, but expectin
g the worst. I got what I expected. It was the hospital calling to tell me my brother was knocking on death’s door and being taken into emergency surgery.

  I called Phoenix, the president of the motorcycle club my brother belonged to, and told him what I knew. I was a mess and could barely get the words out. He offered to pick me up and take me to the hospital as I was in no shape to drive myself. I was grateful for his offer, but I didn’t want to be around all of those big, burly men without my brother by my side. Over the years, I managed to overcome most of my issues, but when I was under a lot of stress or feeling vulnerable, it only took the slightest of triggers to send me into a tailspin. With that in mind, I agreed to allow Phoenix and my brother’s best friend, Dash, to pick me up and take me to the hospital as long as Phoenix promised no one else would be there for the time being.

  I don’t remember much of the first few days at the hospital with Duke other than I never left his side during that time. My aunt and cousin tried numerous times to get me to take a break, just for a few hours to get some rest, but I refused. He had been attacked resulting in a skull fracture, brain trauma, and the associated complications from being stabbed eight times. EIGHT! I was a hot mess, frequently crying, getting very little sleep, and barely eating.

  Finally, after Duke had been moved out of ICU, Phoenix put his foot down and ordered me to take a break from the hospital. He reminded me I could stay in Duke’s room at the clubhouse where he promised I would be safe. He even offered to have one of his officers stand guard at the door while I slept. He wasn’t giving me much of a choice, but I didn’t try to argue with him. I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep going much longer in my current state and I needed to be able to take care of Duke when he woke up. My only concern was that I didn’t want Duke to be alone, especially if he woke up when I wasn’t there. He promised to have someone stay by Duke’s side while I was gone.