Don't Take My Baby (Twisted Ghosts MC)

by Zoey Parker

  “Yes. And if I don’t take Toro down, the next contract will be on my head. Hell, that may be why Silk Road gave money to Bastille as well. To make sure that both of us were motivated. It may be that the next call, for either one of us, will be letting us know that the other is to be eliminated.”

  Tess seemed resolved, after that moment. “What do you need from me?”

  Good girl. “I need you to show me the places Toro is most likely to go to ground. I need you to use that pretty face to get both of us past bouncers and bodyguards until we find out where that slimy piece of shit is hiding. And then I will get both of us out. Because if we don’t take care of both of these problems, Tess, we’re going to be dodging a lot of bullets at once. People will get hurt.”

  He let his eyes drift significantly down to her belly. The reality was she could disappear pretty quickly; no one cared about the piece of ass unless she was known to be a lot smarter than Tess had ever let on. From everything he’d heard, hell, even from everything he’d seen during his surveillance of Toro, before he’d made his move, he’d thought Tess was nothing but a common whore. Hell, maybe that was part of what turned him on so much; finding out that the dim bitch had a brain was part of what made his cock so hard.

  She thought a bit, then nodded. “Yeah. I have some ideas. Yeah.” She rubbed her temples for a moment, considering. “I’m going to need some clothes. The easiest way for me to get in the doors is going to be telling people that I need an audition as a dancer.”

  “Dancer?”

  She raised an eyebrow and shimmied for him on the bed. Her breasts and stomach jiggled in a way that made him groan. “Yeah. Dance. How the fuck do you think I met Toro in the first place?”

  He’d never actually considered it. Huh. “Show me.” Where the hell did that idea come from?

  She didn’t pause or flinch. She stood up slowly, her eyes locked on his face. He leaned back in his chair; there was no point in hiding that his cock had gone rock-hard again. He cupped it through his jeans, giving himself some pressure, just to drive himself a little bit nuts. He didn’t want to distract her from whatever she had in mind. She was wearing his T-shirt and nothing on the bottom; he watched as she pulled the shirt up over her head and tossed it back onto the bed.

  He’d fucked her every goddamn way he could think of since he’d taken her from Toro’s penthouse, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her like this; standing, her tits heavy, her stomach rounded, her hips cocked to the side. Buck naked and proud of what she was showing off. His cock twitched and ached inside his pants.

  He didn’t know what music was playing inside her head, but he saw when it started. Her eyes half closed, and her hips swiveled slowly to the side, one and then the other, while her hands went over her head. She ran them down her body in a slow, sexy rhythm, swaying down until her butt was just above her heels, then spinning in place so that when she stood, he had a gorgeous view of her cunt and ass. Her legs were spread enough that he could see her clearly, see that she was wet. That made everything hotter – knowing that she was enjoying it on some level at least.

  She pulled herself up to standing with one hand running up her leg, swirling her hips around again. She let them move, isolated and careful as she spun in a circle again. He could see her, how she’d be with her hand locked on a pole. She’d be swinging around it like a goddamn goddess, spreading her thighs to run her pretty pussy against it, and he knew, he just knew, that she’d be close to getting off from the light pressure. Her hands cupped her tits, teasing her nipples for just a second as she stepped closer and leaned in, putting her breasts close to his face. He leaned forward to grab her and pull her close, wanting to close his teeth on her soft flesh, and she slapped his hands.

  “Never touch the dancer,” she said.

  He let her get away with it. This time. If she ever tried something like that again… She had shown herself to be enough of a pain slut and a humiliation whore that he wondered how she’d react to being slapped across the face. His cock somehow got even harder at the thought; he didn’t really care if she liked it or not, it would be the thing that was done.

  She spun again, her hips and back liquid motion. She was getting into the rhythm of what she was doing, and he was going to come in his pants like a kid if he wasn’t very, very careful. She had him on edge so often, and he loved every damn second of it. But also, he was going to come in her cunt no matter what she said about touching the dancer.

  Before he grabbed her and yanked her down to his lap, she turned in a full circle, sinking to her knees and working his belt.

  “You’ve been such a good customer,” she purred out, her voice reaching down and making his balls incredibly tight. “Want a happy ending?”

  He meant to say yes, he really did. Instead, the words that spilled out of him were more like: “You fucking slut. You don’t get me this riled up and not take my cock. Teasing whore. You’d better take care of what you started.”

  Her eyes widened, and she grinned. Her nipples were tight, and he could smell her arousal in the air.

  “Oh no, mister,” she said, in a tone that was nothing but fake fear. “I don’t know what I’d do if you forced me to fuck you. Please, oh please, don’t do that to me.”

  His cock sprang free, and her mouth was on him immediately, stroking him into her mouth as she took the delicate, swollen, leaking head into her mouth. He groaned, but it wasn’t what he wanted; nothing like it. Nothing like enough.

  He yanked Tess up to her feet, spun her around, so her back faced him, and pulled her down into his lap. It took a moment of fumbling, and then his cock was buried in her up to the hilt. It didn’t matter that he was so big now, she took him effortlessly, molded to his thick erection like she’d been goddamn made for him. She groaned against him, rolling her hips to grind into him. Her legs were spread on either side of his, and he spread his knees, making her cunt tighten around him as she made a little yip of surprise and pleasure. Thrusting up in this position was potentially awkward, but he made up for his short thrusts by finding her clit and pinching it between his fingers as hard as he could. If he’d had a clamp, he would have used that, left her there to endure the weight every time he shifted under her, but this would have to do for now.

  “Think you get to give me orders, you dirty slut,” he hissed out into her ear, and she groaned and tightened around him. He felt her shudder, and he pinched her tit hard, too hard to feel good.

  “Don’t you fucking think of coming yet,” he warned her. She gasped, rolling against him harder. “That’s right, whore,” he said, listening to the happy, whimpering noises she was making intensify. “You don’t get a goddamn say in this. You don’t get to decide when you’re fucked, and you don’t get to decide when you come. You hear me? If you don’t wait until you have permission, I will take it out on that supple ass with my belt. And I won’t make it feel good. We clear?”

  “Yes,” she managed to gasp out. Her breathing was heavy, deep, and he felt her struggling to still the convulsions that wanted to roll through her.

  He fucked up into her hard, fast, and demanding; it was torture for him as much as her. He couldn’t get a good, deep stroke in, but she was shaking and clenching so hard onto his cock that it made up for the difference. She was working so hard to hold back, and he was proud of his little bitch, but not so proud he wanted to let go a moment before he absolutely had to.

  And then she whimpered, her cunt aching and clearly desperate. “Please,” she cried, shaking around him, her entire body a bristling pile of nerves.

  His balls clenched so tight they ached, and before his own orgasm broke over him, he hissed out in her ear, “Come hard for me, slut,” and twisted her nipples so hard that she screamed.

  Maybe she meant to or not, but she leaned forward enough that she slammed down onto him just as he pounded up into her. She clenched so hard around his cock that he distantly thought she might actually hurt him, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care because he was
coming as hard as he ever had in his life, his hands clamped on her hips to force her to take it. He didn’t have to force her though. She was grinding into him, working out every last pulse of her orgasm as he banged up into her, just as demanding and forceful as he could be.

  He was still pulsing as she went limp against him, and he gathered her up in his arms, holding her carefully as her eyes drooped closed.

  “Holy fuck,” she whispered, her entire body drained.

  His sac felt emptier than it ever had. Christ, that was so hot it hurt. It was so hard that his vision had blacked out for a moment, his body able to take in no information other than the feeling of her pussy squeezing tight around him.

  “Holy fuck,” he agreed. “I keep being surprised at how rough you like it.”

  She laughed slowly. “The part where I told you I wanted to sleep tied to the bed wasn’t a motherfucking clue?”

  “In retrospect,” he said, and she laughed again.

  His knees were a little weak as he stood up, but he managed to carry her over to the bed and lay her down under the covers. “Sleep for a bit. When you’re awake, we’ll look at clothes. I want to see you dancing like that around a real pole.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Not that,” Tess said to the millionth outfit Milo pulled up on his laptop. “I’m trashy, but I’m dancing around a pole, not selling myself. No one will believe I’m trying to audition in that.”

  Milo scrubbed his face; it looked like he was trying real hard not to glare at her. “You aren’t making this easy. Pasties and a thong. Why is this such a big deal?”

  She flicked his shoulder with her fingers. A month or two ago, he’d have yanked her fingers down and threatened to snap them off if she touched him again; how times had changed. He still gave her a glare, but it was more heated, a warning of what happened to bad girls who didn’t behave instead of an actual threat.

  “Because you want me to be convincing. Because you want me to get you in a door with people who are conditioned not to trust anyone. Because I’m going to be considered a problem because of Toro going to ground. Because if I don’t look just right, none of it is going to matter. And anyway, no one wears pasties anymore. Thongs yes, pasties no. And when poles are involved, getting string stuck in your ass crack just isn’t sexy.” She leaned past him and scrolled down the screen a little farther. “That,” she said finally, pointing. A green bikini with scaled patterns over it and matching gauntlets. The entire fabric was stretchy Lycra, and would both smoosh her boobs together for maximum cleavage while also making sure that her nipples stayed exactly where they were supposed to be. No point in giving away for free what she could get people to pay for.

  Milo stared at the screen for another long moment. “I’m just saying that I’ve never seen a pole dancer wear that much.”

  “Then you’ve seen the kind of pole dancing that’s only about getting tips. This kind is about getting tips but also being incredibly gorgeous while you do it.”

  She hadn’t actually had an audience in a while, and the little strut she’d done for him before wasn’t anything like the routine she’d put on at the club. She’d have to make some calls too, make him get her some kind of burner phone, make sure she could set up a couple auditions over the next few days. It wouldn’t be as easy as Milo seemed to think; as if people who were a little poor and a little hungry for an exhibitionist girl who would stuff a twenty between her boobs for them couldn’t also appreciate an athletic routine that brought to mind acrobats and high wire performers while also wearing a skimpy bikini that caught the stage lights.

  It wouldn’t actually be as hard as she was making it out to be to get her foot back in the door. Not unless Toro had blacklisted her. But with his own fortunes on the drop, it was unlikely he’d have enough clout to make that happen right now. Six months ago, almost certainly. Now? She was positive he was on the run. Where else would he be?

  There was a terrifying possibility that Tess had not allowed herself to consider. That he was watching her. That going to one of the clubs that were under his control would result in disaster. That he would take her back, and because she’d left at all, he would punish her severely. Scar her face or her body so badly that no one would ever want her again, and she wouldn’t be able to work. With no degree and no job history, she might possibly get a job as a waitress somewhere, but nothing else would ever happen. She’d die in the street for all that anyone cared about her.

  Was having a baby really any different? Milo kept promising to take care of her and the baby, but she didn’t really have the financial knowledge to know what different kinds of trusts were, or how they could be canceled or something in the future. She didn’t want to be beholden to another man, didn’t want to be relying on her body to get her what she needed to survive. Not like this.

  Babies were a lot – stretch marks everywhere, and even if she chose not to keep the kid once it was born, what were her options? Would anyone believe her that she didn’t do drugs, didn’t have diseases? Would anyone be able to give her baby a good home? Or would it always be haunted by who she was and what she had done? She didn’t want to be a blemish on her child’s life forever.

  Maybe the right choice was to leave the moment she was out of Milo’s sight. Get rid of the pregnancy and just… move to a new city. Start over. Make up a history, make up a life, and be someone new. But the thing was that if she could get rid of the financial stress… the idea of a baby was pleasant. Maybe even wanted. Maybe something she’d always wanted, but never let herself dream of. After all, what had been the point of dreaming? If she’d gotten pregnant under Toro’s “care”, one of two things would have happened: she would have been forced into an abortion, or he would have taken the child and raised it in his lifestyle. Raised it to be a murderer, a drug lord, and a monster – if it was a boy. If it were a girl… She didn’t even want to think of that – what a man like Toro might be capable of doing to his own little girl.

  And if he’d decided halfway through a pregnancy that he didn’t want the baby after all… neither she nor the baby would have been safe. He might have been satisfied with putting a bullet in her brain. He might have decided to make sure the treatment was more… drawn out.

  She pushed herself away from that train of thought as hard as she could. Milo was looking at details, saying that the costume she’d chosen was in stock in her size at a local store. She’d always had to modify things to fit her curvy figure, but for now, this would do. This would have to do.

  “What now?”

  He shrugged. “What does one wear to pick up a pole dancer’s costume?”

  She laughed, just a little. “Any old thing.”

  Which wasn’t true at all. She put on some of the regular clothes he’d bought her, though she hiked the skirt up high and pulled the shirt down low.

  He took her down to his car, which was nicer than she remembered. Maybe he’d switched them at some time over the crazy last few weeks.

  It was weird, being out of the hotel room after all this time. It wasn’t a bad hotel room, as these things went, but the ceilings weren’t all that high, and she’d gotten accustomed to the walls being close around her. There wasn’t all that much light, just what Milo had turned on during the day and night. Since he’d kept a pretty irregular schedule, there was no telling whether it was morning or night, just the lights on or off.

  She flinched hard in the daylight, and at the infinite distance of the sky. Thank God they were in a busy section of the city; the roads kept her reasonably confined on the sides, though there was still a lot more space around her than she really preferred.

  Milo seemed almost prepared for this. He put his arm around her, like she was his girlfriend, and laughed gently into her ear, a chance to whisper that she was going to be okay. He passed her a pair of huge Jackie O sunglasses that she could put on and stop cringing away from the sun. She probably looked like she had an incredible hangover, but that wasn’t all that surprising; not uptow
n or downtown.

  “Thank you,” she whispered back, and he pulled her in gently to kiss her temple.

  It tugged at her heartstrings in a way nothing else had ever. He’d fucked her and made her pregnant and kissing her soft was the most intimate thing he’d done. It made her melt and smile in a way that she hadn’t in a very long time. But she pushed those soft feelings away as hard as she possibly could; it was too much for her to handle when she was about to strip almost all the way naked in front of strangers. For that, she needed to be tough, untouchable, and unbreakable. She could make it happen; she always could. The only question was at what cost would it be done?

  Milo drove them across town, out of the pretty buildings and tall offices into the section that cities always had. The buildings were older, the streets were narrower, the cars parked on either side of the road meant that drivers needed to slow down and make sure they were leaving enough room between themselves and the other vehicles. Not everyone slowed down. Not all of the pedestrians looked before they stepped into the street.