She grabs the tops of his thighs. “I’ll do the even dirtier stuff to you later if you give me a chance.” Her tone oozes smutty sexuality. It makes me wanna gag.
The door opens. “Sir and ladies, they’re ready for you inside.”
“Thanks, Randy,” Candi says as she slips out of the limo first.
I’m hot on her tail, not wanting to be left behind to hear more about these dirty deeds that Amanda’s going to perform on Wes later tonight. I wonder if he sleeps with them in his house, or takes them elsewhere? I’ve yet to hear anything coming from his room, and Garrett’s never mentioned noises either. Hmmm…
In the skeevy alley, Candi and I wait for Wes and the rest of the chicks to pile out of the limo. Entering the establishment from a metal back door, the music pounds off the walls as we make our way down two corridors until we come to a black shellacked door with a number one on it. Oozing confidence, Wes invites himself inside with one blonde tucked under each arm. Following his lead, Candi and I enter by ourselves. It’s kind of insulting to go in alone, but I brush it off and play my part.
Exhaling, I step across the room’s threshold, and the door magically shuts behind me. I jump as I quickly shove away the urge to try and see if it opens again. I don’t want to be locked in here. Not like this.
Daringly, I turn my attention to the room and scan its contents with a clinical regard. The walls are draped in lush blood red fabric that skims the black lacquer floor. It appears to glisten as muted can lights illuminate us from above. In the corner, there’s a small bar and a male barkeep, outfitted in a tux standing astutely behind it. In the middle of the room sits three men on plush black armless chairs. Across from them, Wes takes his own seat. Between them is nothing but an oval coffee table that’s set with a decorative bowl of condoms, coasters, and two shiny guns.
For a moment, I stand and watch them shake hands until a sense of recollection prickles the back of my neck. Those men, or that one, looks familiar. They’re all wearing cuts. The one with the ponytail—he’s … oh shit! That’s the guy who stabbed the prisoner in Nash’s cellar! What are the Sacred Sinners doing here? Is this about that shipment or something they were trying to get information about? Fuck, I shouldn’t be here. What if that man recognizes me? What if he thinks I’m a rat or something? It’s not like I don’t already stand out. I’m wearing all black and have brown hair. The rest of the women are in bright colors to match their blonde locks. This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all. Nash and Wes are both going to kill me.
Candi, touching my arm, rips me from my awkward stare down. “The bar’s over there.” She gestures kindly. “The men are waiting on their beers. You need to serve them.”
Fuck. Okay. I can do this. I can play this cool and pretend I don’t recognize them. In all honesty, I only know the one. The one with the name Steel on his vest. Taking a deep breath, I say thanks before forcing my feet to move and my face to remain impassive. At the bar, I gather their drinks on a silver tray and deliver them quietly to the group, including Wes.
A big burly man with a long beard eyes me suggestively as I hand him his bottle of Bud. “How are ya, sexy lady?” He smacks my ass playfully, and I almost want to laugh. He’s got a fun vibe coming from him.
Smiling tightly, I bow my head out of respect. “I’m fine, sir.”
The big guy barks a huge laugh, holding his pudgy gut. “Sir? Who the fuck are ya callin’ sir?”
My face blanches, sweat dampening my brow. I don’t want to draw attention to myself. And I don’t want to offend him either. That wasn’t the plan. I need to travel under the radar, and this big guy isn’t allowing me to do that. Damn it. Has that Steel guy already recognized me?
Still smiling, I try to maneuver around him. But he doesn’t let me pass as he grabs my hips, forcing me to sit in his lap. A hard cock immediately pokes me in the ass as his arms fuse around me, palms landing awfully close to my tits. I freeze, unsure of what to do. He smells heavily like marijuana and peppermint. It’s not an altogether bad scent. Just not appealing, either. And I’m not a fan of dicks prodding my behind without my permission. At this second, I want to scold him, but think better of it, since I don’t need to make this worse.
“You gonna call me sir, now?” he whispers hotly in my ear, and I shake my head, eyes blown wide. Across the way, Wes is glaring at us through tiny eye slits as he clenches his jaw, muscles stiff. What? I didn’t ask the man to play. He’s not my type anyhow.
“Blimp!” The attractive bald man beside us slaps the big guy in the back of the head. “Pussies after business. Now let the girl up. You’re scarin’ her, and pissin’ The Boss off.”
The Boss?
Expelling a cursed grumble, Blimp kisses the side of my head and pinches my ass before he plants me firmly on my feet. “I’ll see you afterward, sexy.” He rumbles his intent, and I scurry off to the other side of the room. Woo, thank the Lord for the bald, sex god.
Over the next hour, I sit at the bar, watching the men carry on. I deliver drinks when needed, but most of the time, I just observe. Observe Wes glancing my way every minute or two, sometimes offering me a small smile that I’m happy to return. Observe the blondes in their element as they provide a triple strip show in the corner as side entertainment. The men seem to stop talking here and there just to watch the women touch each other. Yes, I said that—touch each other. They’re sucking each other’s nipples, and Amanda’s now getting on her knees to lick Candi’s smooth pussy. Throwing her head back, Candi grabs Amanda’s hair and moans, grinding her juices on her colleague’s lips. If I were a lesbian or a man, I would totally get off on this. They’re hot. I have to give them that. However, aside from my general appreciation for their dedication to Wes, I’m bored. Female on female action does nothing for me. Yet, it doesn’t disgust me, either. I’m indifferent.
The bald man, who I’ve learned is Gunz, raises his hand for another beer. Quickly, the barkeep gives me one, and I saunter over there in my modest heels to deliver his bottle, sans tray. That thing was pointless anyhow.
“Thanks, babe,” he praises as I hear Blimp say, “Forty cases should do it. Make sure there are extra mags in the crates. Big expects extra mags.”
“Not a problem, boys. Not a problem at all,” Wes responds coolly, leaning back in his chair like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Hey, Kitten,” he calls, so I take the hint and return to the bar, but stop short when he commands. “Gwen, please come here.”
Backtracking, I turn to face Wes. He pats his lap. “Why don’t you come and play for a while, Kitten? I think these gentlemen would like some pussy, and I’d like some, too. So come and sit, will ya?” His facial expression says I better not argue, while his eyes remain soft like they’re begging me to not make a scene.
A few feet away, that Blimp guy grumbles his dislike and things start to click into place. Wes doesn’t want me to have to deal with that other man. Neither do I. My belly whirls and heart hammers as I make haste climbing into Wes’s lap, straddling him like the stripper I’m pretending to be.
Out of nowhere, he produces a tiny remote and flicks on some sensual rock music. On cue, the girls stop licking one another and find their way to the men. Each of them fully nude begin rubbing their tits in the guys’ faces. Eagerly, they palm the women’s asses, going to town on their bodies while I return attention to Wes.
Playing the part, I grind my covered pussy against his dick. Leaning forward, my breasts flatten to his chest, and I grab the back of the chair. Dipping my head, I brush my lips along his earlobe. “Thank you for saving me from him,” I whisper, purposely fanning my breath over his skin.
Ignoring my words, Wes palms my ass, too. A flutter of something kindles between the apex of my thighs, and I bite back a moan. Damn. I love a man in charge. And I love the way his hands splay over my cheeks perfectly. It’s so fucking hot. To the music, I swivel my hips and allow myself to let go as I channel my inner stripper.
“Careful, Gwen,” Wes warns
half-heartedly as his fingers dig into my butt, igniting a hungry heat to rush through my veins. My nipples harden.
“Careful about what, Wesley?” I nip his earlobe between my teeth, tugging it a bit.
Wes’s fingers grip my ass harder as he groans, powerfully rocking me over his growing thickness. The devil inside of me rises to the surface, and this time, I embrace her with open arms. If he wants an actress, he’s going to get one hell of an actress. Flipping off the moral center of my brain, I go on feel and fuck everything else.
His hand slides up my spine and possessively cuffs around the back of my neck. Wes pulls me backward, so I’m forced to see him face to face. His pupils are blown, swallowing the icy blue whole. Lips slightly parted. Chest rising and falling like he’s unable to catch his breath. It’s so hot. Add his dirty blond hair lying haphazardly on his head, and I’m nearly panting alongside him. It’s been too damn long since a man has touched me. And I don’t know if there’s ever been a time anyone’s touched me like this. God, why does he feel so right?
“Why are you acting this way?” That sexually pained voice delivers its intended blow, hitting me in both my heart and between my legs.
I swallow thickly. “You wanted me here for this.” Swaying my hips, I confirm my explanation.
Wes’s face screws into a scowl as the sound of a man in the midst of an orgasm reaches my ears. I almost forgot we weren’t alone.
“I didn’t ask you here for this,” he clarifies.
The boldest part of me springs forth, and I grab Wes’s erection over his pants. He moans on contact, throwing his head back, eyes fluttering shut. “If you didn’t want me here for this, then why am I dressed this way? And why are you hard?” I ask seductively, not sure if I want to know the answer but ask it anyhow.
Swiftly removing his hand from my ass, he uses it to peel my fingers off his junk and secures it behind my back just like the other night. Then he takes a breath of relief, body visibly unwinding. “You’re here as my guest. Not as my whore, or my employee. You’re here so I can watch you.”
Even in a room full of people, Wes securing me like this, as his eyes delve into mine, feels like we’re the only two people on the planet. My heart offers a fierce beat in agreement. “I don’t understand,” I comment, licking my lips. Why would he bring me here in the first place if not to act like the rest of the women?
Wes pulls me in closer, so our bodies mold together. My lips float an inch above his. I can smell the tang of beer on his breath, and his unique man scent that drives me wild. Every single day for the past week, that scent has shadowed me. It’s been screwing with my equilibrium. So much so that I found myself leaning closer to him yesterday so that I could get a better whiff. It’s divine.
“You’re my son's tutor. You’re not meant to take your clothes off. Even if I wouldn’t mind seein’ what ya look like under all of that sexy leather.” His smirking lips ghost over mine and my heart swells, feeling like it might explode from my chest. “You’re my Gwen. Not anything else. You’re here to accompany me. I expect nothing more.” His tone is edgy—no nonsense, leaving any trace of his excitement in the dust.
“Then why—”
“Why tonight? Why have you in my lap?” he interrupts, and I nod, taking in his temperate expression. “I needed you in my lap and not in someone else’s. These aren’t the nicest men, Kitten. They’re just another side to my businesses. The darker side. And the last thing I need is you getting caught up with them. You’re not gonna end up another notch in someone’s bedpost. And I don’t wanna have to break an agreement with this club if they piss me off. I think Gunz understands that. He’s a sensible man.”
A piece of me wants to tell Wes that I know who they are. But an even larger piece is screaming for me to keep my mouth shut like Nash always taught. I embrace the latter.
“I think I understand.”
“So then sit here with me and pretend we’re having a nice time. Then we can leave whenever they’re ready. This meeting has been a long time in the making. You don’t wanna know the lengths I’ve had to go to get in bed with a club this big.” Wes speaks low enough that only I can hear. A beat later, he unbinds my arm, and I wrap them both around his neck, playing with his nape. Smiling devastatingly, he keeps talking. “You look smokin’ hot tonight. I’m not surprised that one of these men saw past my blondes to want a piece of you.” Wes’s palms resettle on my bottom. He kisses my chin, catching me off guard.
I jerk in his arms, startled by both his touch and compliment. A sentimental warmth buzzes in my chest.
“Sorry,” he snickers. “I’ve wanted to do that all day.”
“Kiss my chin?” Skeptically perking my brow, I regard him like he’s nuts.
“Yes.” He kisses it again. This time, I don’t jump, and that unwanted heat just seems to grow. “You have the most adorable chin.”
Next, the internal butterflies take flight. Damn it.
“Are you sure you’re the same man who just made a gun deal with a big biker club?” I tease, letting him know that I’m in the know.
He doesn’t seem to mind when he replies, “I’ve got many sides, Kitten. Many sides.”
“I’m beginning to grasp that.” I twirl wisps of his hair between my fingers.
He sighs. “That feels nice.”
“So guns, huh?” I probe. As much as it should bother me that Wes sells, distributes, or whatever it is pertaining to guns, it’s not really a shocker. I grew up around Nash, so there’s not much I haven’t heard about. Ya gotta make a living somehow. To be blunt, the strip clubs rub me more wrong than running guns does. Morality and legality say I shouldn’t feel that way, yet I do nonetheless.
Wes nuzzles his nose to my chin. “I gotta make a livin’, Kitten. The strip clubs are legit cash. The guns are my play money. What most people don’t know about me is I’m the progeny of an outlaw biker and a stripper. It seems as though fate has dealt his hand and now I’m in both industries.”
Damn, that’s quite the parental concoction. No wonder he’s not a typical boring Joe Schmo.
Seriously looking at Wes, I keep my gaze glued to his. “Where are your parents?”
“Not living in a lovely home in Charlotteton like yours,” he evades.
I frown. In most cases, Wes is an open book. Why’s he avoiding this? I get that our location isn’t ideal for casual conversation, but this isn’t him.
“Yes, my parents are in a nice home. But that doesn’t answer my question.”
Wes squeezes my ass cheeks in warning. “There are some things better left unsaid.”
Hmmm … that doesn’t explain a thing.
To avoid an argument, I choose to let it go … sorta. “Okay. So you won’t tell me about your parents, but you’ll talk about your ex-wife. How about we talk more about her instead? Or how about your choice of businesses?”
Just as the words fall from my lips, another climax erupts, and I foolishly turn my head to see that Gunz fella tag teaming with Blimp. Gunz is pounding the cocksucker Amanda in the ass while Blimp is feeding her his cock from a chair. For a moment, I soak up the scene. Sensing my inner whore struggling to resurface, I unconsciously start to grind my pussy against Wes yet again. Fuck. That’s hot. What makes matters even more thrilling is that Amanda doesn’t seem to be enjoying herself in the least. Her noiseless, rigid frame is evidence enough. If I liked her, I might feel sorry for the relentless ass pounding. However, I don’t, so this is a bonus. Call me a sadistic bitch if you want.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Steel sucking Candi’s taut nipples while fingering her. Though, strangely enough, he’s not allowing her to touch him. It doesn’t matter, anyhow, since she’s obviously floating in that bliss filled euphoria that claims you after you’ve had an earth shattering climax or two. And from the looks of it, she’s headed into another one as we speak. Candi’s head thrashes back as she screams into the air. Body violently shuddering in Steel’s arms, he holds her tighter as his fingers cont
inue to plunge in and out of her pink depths.
A potent wave of envy washes over me as my clit throbs from neglect. Seeking friction, I hump Wes harder, my eyes fixed on the gloriously filthy porn scene unfolding before my very eyes. Moans and groans impart from the men and women as they submit to basic instincts. Spontaneously, I cup my breast and rub my nipple through the top. The familiar sizzle of wanton desire heats me from within. The palms on my ass tighten to bruising levels, flooding molten lust through every cell of my body. I begin to pant. Sweat dampens my palms. A nose nuzzles my exposed neck, and the distinct scent of Wes dominates my nostrils.
Fuck. He’s touching me and smells so damn good. I’ve gotta… Shit. I need to get off. His smell … his touch … him… It’s killing me … slowly. I can’t stave this need any longer.
Fuck it.
Intense, body quaking pleasure builds between my thighs as my clit swells, seeking more attention. More of anything. Seizing the back of Wes’s neck, I force his lips to my flesh. He doesn’t disappoint when his thick tongue laves my skin from ear to collarbone then back again. My fingers slip into the base of his hair and grip it tightly, not wanting him to stop.
Yes. More.
“If you need to come, Kitten, I’m not gonna st—nuhh,” Wes grunts as my pussy gains purchase on his stout thickness.
Hijacking control, he centers me there with his hands and begins a frantic rhythm of fucking me with our clothes on. Over and over, his dick achingly collides with my clit so that I’m forced to give in to this invading hunger. Basking in the onslaught of paradise, I moan freely as lips seal themselves to my neck, sucking in tandem with the brutal thrusts.
“Oh, fuck!” I squeal, slithering closer to the brink of no return.
“Yes, Kitten.” Wes’s husky tone vibrates against my skin, mingling with the steam of his heavy breaths. He’s driving me insane. My mind whirls. “If you need it, take it, Kitten. Take whatever you want. Use my cock to come. Come on, Kitten. Use me to come. Let go … just let—”
Nowhere (Crimson Outlaws MC #1) Page 15
