The Preacher's Daughter

by Shelly Morgan

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement, but before I could register it or do anything about it, a gunshot rang out. It surprised me so much, I stood stunned. I didn’t know if I’d been shot or what the fuck just happened.

  Not feeling any pain, I whipped around. I saw the bodies of the two men I shot moments ago, still lifeless on the ground. But now there was a third body lying motionless a few feet away from them with an almost identical bullet hole in his head.

  Moving my eyes across the room, I pinpointed the shooter right away. He was standing farther back than the other men, and it didn’t take me long to figure out why.

  “Prospect. Come here.”

  He didn’t think about it or fuck around. He listened and moved around the bodies in front of him, his pace steady and strong until he was standing right in front of me.

  No words left his mouth, but none were needed. I could tell from his stance he was respectful of who I was, but he didn’t show any fear either. I liked him instantly.

  Slapping my hand on his shoulder, I gave him a real smile. “Well, boys, meet your new president.”

  The place remained silent, but I wasn’t expecting hoots and hollers to ring out. There were going to be pissed off men, men that just didn’t care, and maybe a few who would take my choice as law. The first two categories would probably be weaned out and killed off over the next few weeks, but the few men who fell into the last category would be kept unless something came up. Regardless, I was more than satisfied with my decision of making the prospect the new president of the club. At least I knew he’d have my back and that of his brothers. He’d also be man enough to do what needed to be done for us, which was good news for everyone.

  “What’s your name, kid?” I asked. I took my knife out of the sheath on my belt and cut the president patch off Dino’s chest. Handing it to the prospect who’d replace him, I ignored the look of shame on Dino’s face.

  “Names Aaron, sir,” he answered.

  “I’m no sir, prospect, so next time you call me that, I’ll show you exactly how I got the name Torq. Maybe then you’ll remember it.”

  Aaron nodded his head, but again, there was no fear visible on his face. His expression was icy and grim.

  “Aaron your given name?”

  He nodded. “Haven’t earned my road name yet.”

  I nodded in return. Usually, prospects didn’t earn the name they’d go by until they’d earned their member patch, and that didn’t happen for a few years after they’d been recruited. I didn’t know how long he’d been prospecting or any of his background information, but since he’d earned his patch by killing for me, in doing so, he earned his name.

  “Good,” I said, then turned to the club he’d now have power over. “Aaron’s no longer a prospect. He is now your president. You will treat him with the respect he’s earned or you’ll meet your maker by either my hands or his. This man has shown more balls in the five minutes I’ve been here than most men show me in a lifetime. I don’t trust many people outside my own brothers, but I’ve now added one more to that very short list.” Taking the president patch from my hold, I say, “Welcome to the brotherhood, Ice Man.”

  ***

  It took us less than a week to figure out who needed to be dealt with and who among the few left would stay. After that shit was taken care of, we got down to business. Ice Man recruited a few new prospects, patched in a few that were already prospecting, and called a few other club chapters to bring some brothers down his way to fill out his group until he found more men.

  When I was satisfied with his crew and knew they were ready to work, I filled them in on the deal. Of course, the money for the first deal was spent by Dino and his men, but I was able to wrangle some cash to give them a taste of what their payout would be.

  Once everything was set, I left with a reminder that I’d be back, and told Ice Man that if he needed anything, to call me anytime. But I think that boy’s gonna do just fine. He’s got the right stuff to make this shit happen. He’ll make a fine president.

  Up ahead, I can see the city lights of Reno. Home.

  Squeezing the throttle, I pick up speed, eager to get back to the clubhouse. Shit, maybe I’ll stop for a drink at one of our clubs first. I could use a cold one, a sexy show, and an eager pussy to pound my cock into for the night. It’s been way too fucking long.

  Pulling into the parking lot of one of our strip clubs, I turn my bike off and head toward the door. I’m sure Bear’s here, so I can give him the details about Texas. But first, a stiff drink. Maybe I can get one of the girls to suck me off quick before heading into Bear’s office. Blowing off some steam would make things go a lot smoother.

  “Torq, my brother! It’s been awhile,” Wheels calls from the door. I’m a little surprised to see him here. He’s usually at the clubhouse.

  “Hey, brother. Am I missin’ something?” I ask. The hair on the back of my neck prickles. I’m tired, and I don’t want to deal with any shit tonight, but when shit comes calling, you can bet your ass I’ll fucking answer.

  My question has the grin slipping off his face and a grim look taking over. “You know about T-Bone?” Wheels asks, anger evident in his voice.

  “No. Fuck, what the hell’s goin’ on with him?” I have a pretty fucking good idea what he’s talking about, but I’d rather him tell me, get right down to it instead of pussyfooting around.

  “He was double-dippin’, man. Takin’ money off the top from the drugs we were dealin’ out to Georgie, and even sendin’ a few girls his way. He’d find ’em on the street here, and instead of us helpin’ ’em out like we usually do, he’d send ’em to him. Sayin’ he was the good guy, that he’d get ’em on the straight and narrow. Fuckin’ sellin’ skin right under our noses!”

  Wheels is pissed, but I don’t blame him. It’s one thing to steal from your club, but to do something as cruel as dealing flesh? That’s fucking wrong. We may all be going to hell for the shit we do, but we don’t force women or sell them for cash.

  “He inside?” I ask through gritted teeth. When I got here, all I wanted to do was have a cold drink and get my dick wet before sleeping for a week. But now, all I can think about is having a different kind of fun. Fun I can only have with one of my power tools in my hand.

  “Nah. Bear’s got him pinned up in one of the warehouses. They got some information out of him, but I think he was waitin’ for you to get back before finishin’ him off. Have a meetin’ about it. But not tonight, man.” His grin returns, but it’s not as full as it was when I first showed up. “You go in, have a few drinks and check out the new girls. I think you’ll like ’em.” He wiggles his eyebrows like the clown he is, but it’s enough to clear the fog of delivering pain and death for a bit. Wheels is right, T-Bone can wait. I have more pressing issues to attend to at the moment.

  Slapping him on the shoulder, I move past him and into the club. It looks like a full house tonight. Thankfully, there’s always an open table for club members here, or else I may have to make some unlucky guy very upset. Not like it would bother me, but I’m really not in the mood for fighting tonight. Fucking? Yes. Drinking? Yes. Fighting? Not unless I’m pushed.

  First I stop at the bar and order up a bottle of bourbon, then I make my way to the pisser. Don’t want to have to interrupt my good time to drain the snake.

  On the way there, Bear’s door opens and a few seconds later, he emerges.

  “Torq, brother. When did you get in?” he asks, moving toward me.

  “Just now. Thought I’d tire myself out before hitting the sack,” I say this with a cocky smile.

  Laughing, he slaps my back and pulls me in for a man-hug. “Good. You deserve to let off some steam.”

  “Thanks, brother.”

  “I can assume things went well?”

  Laughing cruelly, I say, “You could say that.” Then, after a brief pause, I add, “I�
��ll bring everyone up to speed in the morning.”

  “Fan-fucking-tastic. I’m callin’ church at noon. We have a few things we need to discuss.” He walks past me toward the open bar. “Enjoy yourself tonight. We got a few new faces, and I think you’re gonna like them.” Winking, he disappears out of sight.

  He’s the second man to say that to me. The new pussy must really be something to make Bear excited for me.

  After relieving myself and washing up a little in the bathroom, I head to the empty table in the front. It’s in-between shows right now, but that doesn’t bother me. Hell, if anything, I’d rather it be this way. I hate coming in during the middle of something good.

  I’m able to consume most of my first drink before the lights dim in the bar and go completely pitch-black on stage. Everyone quiets, even the loud drunk fuckers two tables down from me. It’s like everyone knows this next dance is going to be good, so they don’t want to miss even a second of it.

  The speakers crackle a second before the music starts. The song playing is one I recognize, but don’t. It’s called Tainted Love, but this version is different than anything I’ve ever heard before. It’s newer, with more edge in the vocals and the background instruments. I liked this song before, but I love it now, even before the dancer comes out. It’s my kind of music and fits my mood completely.

  A strobe light begins to dance around the room. It’s not enough to make your eyes hurt, but it makes it difficult to see the figure coming onto the stage. And fuck am I glad I didn’t miss that sight.

  She’s about five foot six, maybe a hundred and twenty pounds, with a body made for fucking and dancing. Her legs are a mile long, her ass is round and tight, her stomach tight and corded with cute muscle mass, and her tits are full and round. I can’t make out her facial features, but her hair is long and blonde. I could care less what her face looks like though. With a body like that, I want to rip what little clothes she has on and devour her whole.

  At first, she stands in front of the pole, but she’s not motionless. The movement to her hips is hypnotizing and draws attention to all her best features, poured into an outfit that looks like it was sprayed on.

  Drinking her in, I start at the bottom with her black shiny boots that go all the way up her thighs. Then, there’s black booty shorts that her ass cheeks hang out of. I want to take them off with my teeth, beat my chest and declare her mine. I’d beat any motherfucker that dared look at her, while at the same time, beg her to take the rest of her clothes off.

  Her top seems to be made out of pieces that are tied around her. The parts covering her tits barely seem big enough or tight enough to hold the heavy, supple things in place. I’m pissed that they are, actually. I’d cut off my right nut for just a peek of her nipples. And I’d kill every fucker in this place for a taste.

  Shit, I haven’t had a reaction like this to a woman in a long ass time. Maybe never.

  Sure, chicks have gotten me excited before, but that’s natural. A beautiful woman who’s practically begging to swallow your cock whole will do that to any man. But no woman I’ve been with could ever hold a candle to the woman in front of me. My cock is standing at attention inside my pants, begging to be let out. My heart’s thumping loudly in my chest with anticipation and lust.

  By the first chorus of the song, she has me sitting up in my seat, eyes glued to the stage. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman work a pole like that. The way she moves, it’s so fluid and strong. It’s mesmerizing, and a huge fucking turn on. I didn’t think my cock could get any harder, but I was wrong. I no longer feel the beat of my heart in my chest because it’s moved down into my pants. My dick actually hurts.

  Her feet barely touch the floor as she spins around on the pole, lifting herself up and twirling down. She’s making love to that fucking pole and I want to rip it out of the damn floor and torch it.

  As the song gets closer to the end, I swear I see her eyes land on me. It’s like there’s some sort of recognition there, or maybe she’s feeling what I’m feeling. My mind is playing tricks on me, but one thing’s for certain—I want her.

  I’m barely able to sit still long enough for her to end her dance, and I almost shoot out of my seat and launch myself at her when she bends over to pick up a robe I never saw her take off. Fuck, that ass. I can almost feel it in the palms of my hands, jiggling as I slam my hips into hers, slapping it as I pound my cock into her pussy.

  I’m so fucking primed I could shoot off with just a look or measly touch.

  I need to get myself under control. No fucking pussy is going to make me lose my shit.

  Grabbing my glass and bottle off the table, I stomp my way over to the bar.

  “Give me somethin’ stronger,” I growl at the bartender, then push my way outside through the back entrance to have a smoke.

  It pisses me off because I don’t even know her name. I’ve barely seen her face, yet I can see her with clarity in my mind.

  I’m barely done with my smoke when I hear laughter coming toward the back door. They better have a good fucking reason to come out that door, because this area is off-limits to the customers. They shouldn’t even be down this way, as the hallway is off the beaten path.

  The door slams open, and just as I get ready to beat someone’s ass, I hear Wheels cackling and a female giggling. The only thing I can think of is it better not be my woman with him. Everyone will know soon enough not to fuck with her.

  “Torq, what the fuck you doin’ out here, brother? The pussy’s inside, man,” he says, laughing as the woman—who I can now tell isn’t my girl—is working overtime to get his pants unbuckled.

  Giving him a tight smile, I take one last drag off my cigarette before tossing it, barely missing him. “Yeah. Needed some air.”

  Laughing, he stumbles toward me and wraps his arm around my neck. It’s awkward because the woman is still trying to get in his pants. I draw the line and slap her hand away when she tries reaching for mine too.

  “You’ve seen Angel, haven’t ya? I knew you’d take a likin’ to her, brother.” He groans when the woman finally gets her hands around his dick.

  Not wanting to be anywhere near this little freak fest, but my curiosity piqued, I stay and answer. “Angel? Is that her name?”

  It suits her. She could pass as the devil as well, she’s so fucking temping.

  “Yeah. Not sure if that’s her real name or not. Guess I didn’t ask. But she’s good, eh?” He’s losing interest in the conversation fast, and I can’t say I blame him. I’m not watching the show this chick is putting on, but she must be sucking his dick like a hoover with all the sucking noises she’s making.

  “Yeah man, she’s good.” I back away toward the door. “I’m gonna go see about getting me a private show, if ya know what I mean, brother? You enjoy yours.” I turn around to head back inside, but Wheels speaking has me stopping.

  “If that’s what you’re lookin’ for, I wouldn’t bet on Angel. She rarely does private dances, and if she does, they’re supervised. She runs a tight fuckin’ ship, but damn, she’s almost worth it.” He trails off with a moan, then I hear him say, “But who knows? Maybe you got the magic dick for her golden pussy.”

  Chapter Seven

  Angel

  My heart’s thumping wildly in my chest. I can’t believe I’m going through with this.

  Stepping up to the pole, my palms are so sweaty, I’m a little worried that when I grip the metal, I won’t be able to hold my weight. What if I tumble down and the whole crowd laughs and boos me off the stage? I’ll never be able to show my face here again.

  These are the things nightmares are made of.

  The music to my song blares through the speakers, prompting me to start my routine.

  Taking a deep breath, I hold it in for a few seconds, then release it slowly before grabbing the pole and working it like my life depends on it. And thankfu
lly, my hands don’t slip.

  The more I dance, the more my heart slows to a regular rhythm. Dancing has always been calming for me—my safe haven when I was growing up. It was the one thing I always thanked my parents for. It’s my drug.

  Halfway through my dance, I glance out into the crowd. I don’t really connect with them much while I’m up here. It’s not because I’m scared, or even embarrassed. It’s because I’m not here for them.

  It’s not for the money or attention either. I love the way I feel when I’m up on stage, whether I’m dancing to an empty room or a full house. Or whether I’m making money or doing it for fun. When I’m up here, everything else just fades away.

  As my eyes roam around the room, I’m rewarded with looks of pleasure and excitement. People come here to get away, to live in a fantasy world for an evening, and I provide that.

  My eyes move quickly right to left. As I get to the other side of the room, that’s when I see him. He’s sitting off to the far side of the stage, at the exact table Amy and I sat at our first night here. The darkness swallows him up, but I could never forget that face. The face of the man who made me despise myself, even more than I already did before I met him. The first man to ever make me feel things I never thought I’d feel. He’s the man who saved my life, possibly in more ways than one.

  Dominic Veralli.

  I never thought I’d see him again. I’m thousands of miles away from where I first met him, yet here he is, in the same state I chose to start my life over. He’s sitting in the place I work, watching me like he wants to eat me for dinner. The look is the complete opposite of the one I last saw grace his strong face.

  The look of lust makes me falter, but only for a second. I would have given anything for him to look at me like that all those nights ago when we first met, but he only looked at me coldly, like I disgusted him, just because of who my parents were. He didn’t care to know who I was or how I was so much different than he perceived me to be. He just labeled me and walked away, just like everyone else in my life.