Ride or Die 2

by Claire C. Riley

“I’m sorry,” I said, my words thick and heavy. “I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.”

  She didn’t say anything, and when I looked at her she was looking to the floor, her forehead creased in confusion. I reached out and put a hand on the bottom of her chin, tilting her face to look at me.

  “I mean it, Rose. I had no right to do that.”

  She shrugged. “I could have said no,” she replied.

  But we both knew she couldn’t have. Wouldn’t have. And we both knew that I’d just blown her life apart, because this club and Pops was her life, and I’d just fucked it all up.

  She took a shaky breath. “So, who knows about this?”

  I caught her gaze and frowned.

  “Just me, okay. Well, what can I do to help?”

  I looked away from her, my hand slipping from her chin. I walked past her and into the bedroom. “You can’t do anything,” I replied. I sat on the edge of the bed. “And no one knows.” I let out a long breath, a sorry fucking sigh for myself if ever there was one. “Maybe Shooter knows, but I don’t think he knows everything.” I looked up at her. “I’d like to keep it that way, too.”

  She nodded. “It’s not my secret to tell, Dom,” she said matter-of-factly. She really was a good girl. “But you really need to talk to someone before it kills you. It can be me, Shooter, or someone else. But talk about it. This isn’t good…for anyone.”

  She walked toward the door and I nodded in agreement. My mind drifted to Harlow and how I’d treated her the night before. How jealous I had gotten that things were so fucking simple for her. She could just move on and find someone knew, but for me it wasn’t like that.

  “Harlow is at my place,” Rose said. “You need to speak to her because she’s in a mess, and it’s your doing.”

  “I know, I will,” I agreed, my chin hitting my chest.

  “Today, Dom. Don’t wait! You need to see her today. If what you did to her is anything like what you just did to me, you need to speak to her right away. But don’t be surprised if she doesn’t forgive you—you probably don’t deserve to be forgiven.” She looked away from me, her face scrunching up in resentment. Her hand was on the doorknob and she straightened her shoulders and took a steadying breath. “I got her a job with Margot,” she continued. “Call her and see where they’re working today.”

  “I will, I promise,” I agreed solemnly. “It’s the least I can do.”

  “And Dom?” Her expression twisted into something bitter. “Don’t you ever treat me like that again. I’m not your whore, or anyone else’s, you got that?” She didn’t wait for my reply; instead she opened the door and left.

  I waited a few minutes before following her out, seeing the bar area clear of both her and Pops, though a couple of club whores and some brothers had finally woken up and made it out to the main room. The brothers waved their hellos and I acknowledged them, glad that they hadn’t been there fifteen minutes ago.

  I sat back down at the bar and put my head in my hands. Rose was right: I did need to talk to someone. I couldn’t keep this shit bottled up any longer or I’d end up killing someone. The door to the Church was closed, the blinds open, and I could see that Shooter and Rider were inside talking.

  I took a breath and headed toward the room before knocking on the door.

  “What?” Shooter barked from inside, and I pulled the door open.

  Both Rider and Shooter stared at me, waiting for me to say something. I opened my mouth to speak, the words lodging in my throat like barb-fucking-wire. It felt like there were a hundred sets of eyes on me, and I looked behind me to see if everyone was staring but found that no one was. When I looked back inside, Shooter had stood up and had gone to stand by Rider.

  “Come in and shut the door, brother,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for this talk.”

  And so I did.

  I went inside and shut the door, and I then I took a seat at the table in my usual spot—right next to where Butch had sat—and I looked up at my brothers and hoped to God that they would understand that I was still me, and that the truth wouldn’t change anything.

  That hopefully, they would still accept me.

  Because it was now or never.

  It was closing time.

  “I need to tell you something,” I said.

  “All right, we’re listening,” Rider said.

  Shooter’s usual hard gaze was anything but right now, and I took that as my cue that he probably already knew what this was about. Those goddamned Hardy boys always knew me better than I knew myself.

  “Whatever it is, we’ve got your back,” Shooter said, with a nod.

  And I hoped to God that he really meant that.

  Chapter seventeen:

  Casa

  Jada writhed around on the stage like a dog in heat, rubbing herself up and down that pole like a pro-motherfucking-fessional. Girl would go far, if I let her. Most of her dance had consisted of gripping that shiny pole between her thighs and swinging around and around it until she was a blur of nipples and ass. Bitch had strength that you couldn’t even see, because I hadn’t ever seen a girl do some of the moves she was pulling before. The pole had mostly been used for swinging around once or twice, licking a couple of times like a make-believe cock, and holding onto while they bent over to flash their sweet pussies at the waiting customers.

  But this bitch, this Jada chick, she was hot. I sucked in my lower lip and let my hooded gaze follow her every move until the very last beat of the music finished playing, and then I gave her a slow clap and stood up, not bothering to rearrange my hard-as-fuck dick and by doing so making it abundantly clear how well I thought her audition went.

  Jada walked around to the edge of the stage and I held a hand out to help her down the stairs like I was a fucking gentlemen or some shit. Yeah right. She smiled, I smiled, she looked down and saw my raging hard-on for her, I looked down and saw she was dripping for me, and before I knew it I had her bent over the stage while I rolled on a condom on and buried my cock deep inside of her.

  My hands held onto her little hips and she moaned like a pro with every expert jab of my cock and roll of my hips. Made me think this girl had been doing more than pole dancing in Savanah. Which right then suited me just fine.

  The door swung open behind us and I glanced at my watch without losing my pace, seeing that it was three and the cleaners were just in time to see me putting on a show for them. I kept fucking like my life depended on it, happy for the audience and even happier when I felt my balls tighten and my cock blow its load inside little Jada.

  I caught my breath and slid out of her, sliding the condom off and pushing my cock back into my boxers before buckling my jeans back up. Jada grabbed her clothes and put them back on and then came to stand by me, waiting for news on her audition. Her chest was still heaving as she caught her breath, her hair tousled around her face. I looked down at the clipboard on my chair that I’d been making notes on.

  Great tits.

  Ass like Nicki Minaj

  Does she want my anaconda?

  “Jada, I gotta say—”

  “Jamie,” she said with a smile and I raised an eyebrow at her. “My name’s Jamie, not Jada,” she clarified.

  I forced a smile as some of the cleaners moved from the private rooms at the back to out front and start wiping down tables.

  “Jamie, I’ll call you and let you know.” I picked up my pen and clipboard, which was all for show, making a brief note under number three before walking away.

  Does she want my anaconda? Fuck yeah, she does!

  “I don’t think you have my number,” Jamie called after me, sounding desperate.

  “Sure I do.” I kept on walking. I picked her application form up off the bar and waved it in the air, and she smiled and looked relieved. She waved goodbye and left, and I tossed her application in the trash.

  When I looked back up I saw Harlow with a trash bag, walking around and empting all the bins. I picked up the trash can with J
amie’s form in it and made my way over to Harlow, stopping directly in front of her so she couldn’t avoid me.

  “What?” she snapped, her fiery gaze meeting mine.

  “Woah there, I’m just helping out,” I replied, holding up the trash can.

  She flushed pink. “Don’t you need that?” she said, reaching in to grab Jamie’s form.

  I smirked. “Nah, not sure she’ll be a right for the club.” She scoffed and rolled her eyes at me, and I laughed. “What’s that look for?”

  “You’re such a pig, Casa.” She tried to move past me but I stepped in her way again. “I have work to do.”

  “Why am I a pig?” I smirked.

  “You know why!”

  My smirk got wider. Fuck I loved getting a rise out of her. The flush of her cheeks as she got angry was every teenage boys wet dream.

  I scratched at the back of my neck and smiled at her. “You’re going to have to be more specific, H, you have a lot of issues with me—which one is it this time?”

  “Because you fucked her without any intention of giving her a job. You used her!” she snapped again. “How do you even sleep at night?”

  I took a step towards her, needing to be closer to her so I could smell her angry Harlow scent. “Firstly, she’s a big girl and she wanted to fuck me just as much as I wanted to fuck her, regardless of the job, so that’s on her. And secondly, any woman that thinks fucking the boss is a good idea is fucking stupid and she also ain’t got no morals. And stupid bitches with no morals bring nothing but trouble to my club. Besides, maybe she was using me, H!” I chuckled.

  She thought about that for a moment, her expression softening when she knew I was right, but clearly she wasn’t going to admit that to me.

  “Whatever,” she muttered as she took the trash can from me. “I still think you’re a pig.” She emptied the can into the bag she was carrying before handing it back to me, and then she moved around me and continued on with her job like I wasn’t even there.

  I scowled after her, but my dick still got hard as I watched H’s ass sway as she walked away. Maybe I should have kept Jamie’s form after all. If she could fuck as good as she did, who knew what magical mysteries her mouth held. Thinking of magic got me even harder, because then I thought about Harlow’s magical pussy and what it was about it that made me want into it so much.

  Never had a pussy intrigue me as much as hers.

  Maybe intrigue was the wrong word.

  It was like fucking catnip to me, but the closest I had gotten to it was last night, right before Dom barged in and ruined it all. Pretty sure all the favors in the world weren’t going to grant me access to that pretty little hole now.

  It was a good thing that I’d pulled over to take a call from Gauge after I’d left Dom’s, or I would have missed her walking out of Dom’s house with her bags packed. She’d tried to avoid me for a good mile or so, and I’d even gone so far as to ride off at one point, until Harlow and her magical pussy had called me back to them like a fucking siren’s call. It had only been when I’d pointed out that she had no money, nowhere to go, and she was miles from fucking anywhere that she’d finally let me give her a ride.

  Not quite the ride I wanted to take her on—one where my cock was buried deep of inside her and she was riding me hard and fast—but it was still quite the fucking ride having her on the back of my bike. I’d only had one or two women on the back of my bike before then: once for Dom’s sister Angevin, and once for some woman I’d picked up at a bar. Normally I didn’t care where I fucked them, and most times it was up against the wall outside wherever we were. But this time the place had been on fire and the cops were on their way, so I’d had to load the chick up and take her to a motel.

  And the fire? That was a different fucking story to tell.

  Still, having H on the back of my bike, her arms wrapped tight around my waist and leaning with me into the corners like an expert old lady would, felt fucking right. Fucked my head up real good, too.

  I’d taken her to Rose’s house, because I didn’t have a clue where else to take her, and I was at least partly to blame for her now being homeless, friendless, and penniless, so I wanted to take her somewhere I knew she’d be safe. Not that I gave a shit what happened to her, but a dead chick haunting me wouldn’t be good for getting my dick wet, that was for sure.

  Besides, Rose was a good girl and I knew she’d take H in without a second thought. I’d left her there with orders to Rose to find her a job and to keep me out of it. That girl and her magical fucking pussy were going to get me into trouble. So I was doing the right thing. Keeping away from her. Keeping us both out of trouble, like the good motherfucking brother that I was.

  But now Rose had gotten her a job as a cleaner at my fucking strip club?

  Not cool, Rose. Not cool at all.

  I went behind the bar and poured myself a whiskey. It was early to be drinking, but I didn’t give a shit. I sipped my drink slowly, watching as Harlow worked alongside the other cleaners, scrubbing the stage floor on her hands and knees (fucking awesome), shining the pole (that was fucking magnificent), and wiping the tables down, her tits swaying as she worked. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, like she was a magnet pulling me in.

  It didn’t help that she looked so cute that day, in little cutoff shorts and a low-cut blouse that was tied at the belly button, revealing a flat, smooth stomach I wanted to run the palm of my hand over. Her hair was in two small braids on either side of her head, and she reminded me a little bit of Daisy Duke. She just needed the long blond hair and the picture would be complete. My dick twitched in agreement.

  Margot, the woman who ran the cleaning company, came in to inspect their work, but before doing so she came over to me. Margot was a tall woman. Like, really fucking tall. Woman was almost seven feet, and built like a shotput thrower, with arms like tree trunks. Fucked like a tree, too; just stood there and let you go to town on her ass, barely making a grunt as you rutted into her. Weirdest fuck I’d ever had, but pussy is pussy and ass is ass, and I lived for both.

  “You’re looking like you need a little pick-me-up, Casa,” Margot said as she came toward me.

  Woman had been trying to stretch her branches all over me ever since that one time we’d fucked, but once was enough. She winked and I grinned back, because though it wasn’t like I was ever short of demand, a man had to make sure he had options at all times.

  “I just caught a little pick-me-up, but I’ll keep you in mind for next time.” I took another sip from my glass, and Margot sat down on one of the bar stools. Her gaze wandered around the room.

  “Looks like the girls are nearly done here,” she mused.

  I grunted “yeah,” because my gaze was now on Harlow as she bent over one of the tables to grab something she’d dropped. Ass was beautiful, too. Round, firm, like a motherfucking peach, and I’d give anything to run my palm along it and maybe give it a little tap. Just enough that the skin turned pink and hot to the touch.

  “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be up on that stage,” Margot said, mistaking my horny look as one I had for her.

  I grunted again, my gaze firmly fixed on Harlow as she scrubbed at a stain on the table, making her tits jiggle in her top.

  “Maybe I could do a private showing for you one day, Casa,” Margot said, leaning over so her face was close to mine and blocking my view of Harlow’s sweet body.

  I cocked an eyebrow at Margot and smirked. “You wanna give me a private showing of you pole-dancing, Margot? That what you want, girl?”

  Her eyes flared and she nodded. “Sure would. If you ever have some free time.”

  I sat back in my chair and watched Margot for a moment or two. Harlow was standing up now, and I’d noticed her looking over once or twice, even though she was trying to be sneaky as fuck about it. But she wasn’t being sneaky at the moment. At the moment she was watching Margot and I intently, and I was more than willing to play along.

  “Why wait?�
� I said to Margot. “Get up there now, show me what you got.” I jerked my chin to the stage, and Margot turned to look, her cheeks growing hot. But her eyes, her eyes were hooded and full of desire. It was funny as fuck, really.

  “Everyone is here,” she hissed.

  “So? Who gives a fuck? Bitches do this all the time. Only gonna be me watching you.” I let my tongue dart out to wet my bottom lip, and her gaze followed it. “Go on, Margot, put on a fucking show for me.” I winked at her and her cheeks grew pinker.

  “Let me get the girls out of here first. Then I—”

  I tutted and wagged a finger in the air between us. “Now or never, baby.”

  Margot looked across to the stage and then back to me one more time. “Fine,” she replied, surprising the fuck out of me. Margot had big fucking lady balls.

  She stood up, unclipped her fanny pack, and strutted her big ass over to the stage. She gave me a sultry look as she climbed the stage steps and made her way to the pole. I made my way out from behind the bar area and headed toward the stage, pulling my phone out to play some music while she danced, purposefully picking a throbbing bass beat.

  Now that she was up there, I felt kinda sorry for her as she stared up at the huge silver phallic-like object. She ran her hands up and down the pole, her gaze darting to the women, who had stopped cleaning and were now openly staring at her.

  My own gaze moved from Margot to Harlow, and I felt something akin to shame creep up me. Harlow looked…hurt? Furious? Maybe even embarrassed. I wasn’t entirely sure which, since those three expressions seemed pretty similar to me. All I knew was that her cheeks were pink, her eyes were wide, and her chest was heaving and making me want to bury my face in those beautiful tits of hers.

  I winked at Harlow, and if possible her eyes grew even wider at my audacity before she quickly gathered her things and started to walk away.

  By now, Margot was full-on gyrating her way around the pole, but I wasn’t interested in her. I chased after Harlow, catching her by the arm as she was about to leave the club.

  “Where you going?” I asked, trying to keep my cool.