by Jennifer Ann
“Fuck.” Head tilted back, Jimmy bends a leg and leans against the brick wall as smoke blows out through his nose. Then his gaze draws down to meet mine. “Why didn’t you put that money in a bank like a normal person?”
“After everything that happened, can you blame me? Trust isn’t something I know a lot about anymore. I thought maybe you knew my stuff was gone when you went to get my bike.”
“I sent my little cousin to meet your aunt. He didn’t mention it, though I don’t suppose he’d know any better.” Cigarette dangling from his lips, he grunts. “I have some money I could loan you, it’s just—”
“I didn’t come for a handout,” I interrupt. “And I’ll find a way to pay your cousin back for driving all the way up to get my bike. It’s been a crazy week, and I haven’t had time to figure out what I’m going to do for money.”
“Where’ve you been hiding since you got out? You never did tell me what the plan was. I thought maybe you’d look me up before now.”
“I went back to the MC.” I spare him the story of Remmy rejecting me, and the complicated tale of Colt and Ranger. Besides, I’d like to avoid recalling what I saw take place between Colt and Cheyenne even if I did deserve to be paid back. “They’ve been taking care of me.”
Jimmy takes a long drag of his smoke, shaking his head. “Thought you were done with that place.”
“They’re the only family I have,” I answer with a shrug. “Even Axel has found his way back.”
“Get the fuck out!” he yells, eyes wide. “You mean your brother?”
“It’s a long, fucked up story. Turns out he enlisted and lost a leg while serving, then, somewhere along the way, joined the MC. I think he’s up to something sinister.” I take a deep pull of nicotine before releasing it through pursed lips. “Oh, and I think he has something to do with why my ass landed in prison.”
“Now you sound completely full of shit,” he scolds, taking my wrist. “How do you know?”
“Overheard him talking with someone at the clubhouse.”
His eyes widen. “Harley, you have to tell someone about this—your PO, your old attorney, even the cops! That son of a bitch can’t get away with it!”
“I don’t have any real proof other than my word against his. And you really think they’re going to believe a convicted felon over a wounded vet? Besides, what’s that going to accomplish? It’s not like they can give me back the time I served, and I’d rather he doesn’t find out I know anything until I’ve uncovered whatever it is he’s up to. Then I’ll strongly consider my options.”
“This is so fucked up,” Jimmy mumbles, sucking his cigarette held between his fingers like a joint. “I don’t like the sound of this. At. All. You should come stay with me for a few days. There are plenty of jobs around here. I have connections, and could help you find an affordable place.”
“No offense, but I fucking despise this city,” I say with a harsh laugh. “If I decide to leave the MC, it’ll be for San Diego.”
“If you leave the MC? You’re just going to stick around and wait for your asshole brother to fuck you over again? Kid, you need to get the hell outta there! Without your dad, there’s nothing left for you in that place.” My expression must give me away because he’s soon clicking his tongue while shaking his head. “There’s more to it, isn’t there?”
I toss the cigarette to the ground, and watch as my boot stomps it out. “I thought I had met someone worth sticking around for, but I guess I was wrong.”
When I look back up at Jimmy, he’s grinning. “Thought maybe there was a reason you came in here looking spooked, but figured it had something to do with your newfound freedom. No offense, sweetheart, but your track record with men isn’t the best. Now’s probably not the time to get involved with anyone anyway. You’ve been out, what, a whole week? You should be celebrating your freedom! Get out there and live a little! Now’s the time for random hookups and one-night stands!”
If he only knew I already have the one-night stands and hook-ups covered and have celebrated my so-called freedom by screwing a hot stripper who happens to be the brother of one of the MC Club's old ladies.
But hearing him confirm the thoughts that have been nagging the back of my mind comes as great relief. Why had I even entertained the idea of giving up everything I believed in to become Colt’s old lady? On a normal day, being tied down isn’t my thing. Having recently lost a big chunk of my life, the last thing I should be doing is committing myself to a different kind of life sentence.
Jimmy tips his chin. “There’s a big post-premiere party tonight down in the hills. There’ll be a shit-ton of wannabe actors and hot singles looking to get it on. You should stay the night, have a little fun. I have an ex about your size who has a closet filled with party dresses. She probably wouldn’t mind loaning you something for the night.” He crushes his cigarette before taking my hand. “You can crash on my couch. It’d do your mental health good to release all that sexual frustration you must’ve felt after being surrounded by all those women for so long.”
He draws his mouth down to linger near mine, eyes sparkling. “I can even take care of that urge if you’d like. Back in the day we were pretty hot together.”
I push him back, laughing. “Jesus, haven’t you found yourself a good woman yet? I figured you’d be settled down with a couple of kids by now. You planning on being LA’s most eligible bachelor for the rest of your life?”
Backing away, he chuckles and runs a hand through his wild hair. “You really think marriage is my thing?”
“No, but it doesn’t hurt to have a constant someone in your corner to come home to at the end of the day.”
His eyebrows draw down. “You have it bad for this guy, huh?”
Just like that, I remember the way Colt answered Cheyenne’s kiss, and nausea burns its way up my throat. “I should go,” I say, turning my back on him. “It’s a long drive back, and I don’t like riding late nights through the city by myself.”
“Wait,” Jimmy pleads, grabbing my arm. “You should stay. Seriously. I was obviously kidding about you and me, but I whole-heartedly meant what I said about random hookups. I know you’re worried that you lost your old self in prison. Maybe hanging around with me for awhile is what it’s going to take to get that Harley we all love back in the game.”
“I hate LA,” I remind him, shaking my head. “The longer I stay, the more I can feel my morals slipping into the abyss.” Even though I have done a fine job of losing them on my own.
Jimmy’s eyes turn bright. “At least come to my place and hang out. We can watch porn or something. We should talk about what you’re planning to do next. You can’t just dump all this stuff on me about becoming broke, and your brother walking back into your life, and being in love, then just walk away without expecting me to worry.”
“No one said anything about love,” I snap.
“You don’t have to say it,” he answers, wiggling his eyebrows. “Shit, kid. I’ve never seen your feathers so ruffled. Probably wouldn’t hurt you to get you laid before you go back on the road so you’ll loosen up a little. One of the guys inside is single and lookin’ for love. I can go get him if you want. Not the best to look at, but you can close your eyes and pretend it’s one of the shampoo bottles from the prison.”
“Fuck off!” I say, laughing as I punch him in the chest. Damn, I’ve really missed my old friend’s humor. I lean in to kiss his cheek. “It was good to see you, Jimmy. I promise I’ll come back sometime. I’ll text you my new number so we can chat like the old days.”
He pulls me close for a hug. “Take care of yourself, kid. Let me know if there’s anything I can do. Next time you come by, I’ll finish your sleeve, no charge.”
“You’ve already done plenty,” I assure him, patting his back. There’s only one place I want to be at this moment, and it’s not anywhere near LA.
20
The jealous receptionist who greeted us the previous day isn’t anywhere in sight when I
enter Logan’s club. I pass through the velvet curtains to find the place completely empty and oddly quiet, though still unable to shake the prevalent stench of weed.
“Logan?” I call out, feeling a burn between my legs when I spot the chair where the unforgettable lap dance took place.
Maybe Logan changed his mind about meeting me. His texts were one of many I found when stopping for gas on my way back. The others were from Kandi and Ranger, wondering where the hell I had gone. Logan’s the only one I answered. Jimmy’s speech replayed over and over in my head on the ride back until I was convinced meeting with Logan is exactly what I need to get Colt as far out of my head as possible.
Finally I hear from somewhere behind the stage, “Back here!”
As I climb up the short stairway leading to the front of the stage, Logan emerges wearing loose fitting gym shorts, a sleeveless hoodie, and a backwards baseball cap. He looks several years younger, and playful as hell when he breaks out in a wide smile. “Hey, beautiful. Just gearin’ up for tonight’s show,” he tells me. “We’re only open a few hours on Mondays.”
The sight of his muscular arms, angular jaw, and the deep roll of his voice causes a throbbing pang to stir between my legs. I’m suddenly jealous of all the women who will be here later tonight, running their hands along his glorious body, sticking their hands down his g-string and getting a private dance. It’s a shame I don’t remember much about sleeping with him, because I imagine the experience was off the hook.
Quickly closing the distance between us, I set my hand on his chest. “Sounds daunting. Need someone to practice on?”
Glancing down on my hand, he says, “Thought you were Colt’s girl.”
“No chance in hell,” I reply, shaking my head.
His eyes darken in approval. “We talkin’ practice with another lap dance, or you need another proper fuckin’ like the one I gave you last night?”
My cheeks turn hot with excitement. “Let’s start with a dance.”
“Think you can handle a repeat performance?” With one hand he reaches for my waist, pulling me close until my breasts are pushed up against his chest.
“It wasn’t that good,” I lie, rolling my eyes to the ceiling. “Don’t let it get to your head.”
“By the way you kissed me afterwards? I’d say you’re lying.” Leaning in until I can feel his breath on my face, he wets his lips. “I’d like to see you do better,” he taunts, running a finger over the swell of my belly.
“Oh yeah?” Rising to my tip toes, I drape my arms over his shoulder. “Get me some decent music, big guy, and I’ll show you what I’ve got.”
For a drawn out, angst-filled moment, I’m sure he’s going to pull me down to the floor and fuck me right on the stage, but he finally pulls away, laughing joyously. “Oh, it’s on, sweet thing.”
He runs to the edge of the stage, flipping off backwards in a move that makes my jaw drop. While he races over to a closed door, I toss my boots and socks off to the side. A few minutes later, a song with a slow, sensual beat drifts from the speakers all around me.
I’ve done a few trip teases over the years for past boyfriends, but nothing like this. Not after serving time made me a hard, confident woman. But when Logan returns, taking the front seat I sat in when he first danced for me, I’m fueled with the lustful look seizing his features, and feel a rush of adrenaline.
Hips grinding along with the rhythm of the song, I take my time removing my leather jacket before tossing it Logan’s way. He claps and wolf-whistles in approval. I work on my shirt next, slowly pulling it up over my ribs before turning to wiggle my ass his way. Hollers and cheers continue until I’m down to my bra and thong.
Logan’s playful mood turns with the flip of a switch. He looks ready to charge onto the stage and attack me as I make my way to the pole. I’ve never danced on one, but my body became tone and fit in prison, so I at least know I have the strength to fake it until I make it.
I stretch up to grab the cool metal and wrap my leg around it, spiraling around with one finger stuck inside my mouth as my heated gaze matches Logan’s. Elbows pressed to his knees, he rests his chin on his knuckles, devouring me with a heated look I won’t soon forget. I slither around on the pole as best I can, hoping by determination alone I can somehow make it sexy and enticing.
My bra goes next. I squat down to the floor, touching my hands between my legs and shimmying around before I dance my way toward the edge of the stage. Laying down with my tits barely above the floor, I do a little stage thrusting as I summon him to joint me with a wiggling finger.
He pops up to his feet, removing his shirt over his head with one hand. All at once the beat changes to an upbeat techno tune. Logan moves in a choreographed dance that’s playful and so damn hot at the same time that I whimper to myself. I can’t hold back a wicked grin as he grinds his way up onto the stage beside me to deliver a earth-shattering kiss.
Hips pressed into me, hard length digging against my tender flesh, I’m enchanted by his manly scent when he whispers, “Up for a little company?”
There’s no time to ask what he’s talking about before two other built men in g-strings appear behind us on the stage, dancing their way across to the intense tune. I don’t even bother covering my naked tits as they seem uninterested in my body, and more intent on giving me a good show.
Like Logan, both men are broad and muscular with abs so cut it’s possible to count each one. The taller of the two is darker skinned with short, curly hair, and a tattoo sleeve covering one arm. The other is wider in the shoulders with bigger muscles that look steroid-induced, and ear-length blond hair, tanned skin free of markings. Logan, now only wearing only a g-string that matches theirs, moves in between the two. They break into a synced routine so seductive I’m unable to move, and soak through my underwear.
Standing nearly naked beside three gorgeous men, there’s a sexual chemistry charging through the air bigger than anything I’ve ever felt in my lifetime. I swear I could come on command. Forget the complicated shit with Logan. Like Jimmy said, I deserve to celebrate my freedom. And freedom has never looked or felt so fucking awesome.
Logan dances back my way, wrapping his arms around me from behind, grinding his barely covered cock against my backside in rhythm to the beat. His breaths are heavy against my ear. “You’re so fuckin’ hot, I couldn’t wait to share.”
The taller stripper is soon beside us, lifting my leg up to his waist, and rolling his hips toward me, dark eyes locked with mine. Uneasy vibes stir inside my gut. I don’t know that I want this. With Colt and Ranger it was different because I had wanted them for days. I’m turned on as fuck by these gorgeous men giving me a private show, but the idea of giving myself to these two other guys I don’t even know feels…wrong.
In the blink of an eye, the third stripper is hoisting my other leg up into the air in another direction as Logan supports the bulk of my weight by my ass and thighs. One of the men’s fingers move my underwear to the side just in time for Logan’s thick cock to slam all the way inside of me from behind. Shocked and mildly pleased, I tilt my head toward the ceiling and let out a loud cry that’s absorbed by the music.
Logan thrusts so hard that my tits bounce painfully as I’m suspended in mid-air by the three men. Two seconds after I close my eyes and lean against Logan, hands cover each of mine, directing them downward until they come into contact with two very hard, very strained erections—one considerably larger than the other.
“Make them come, baby,” Logan growls against my ear. “Show them what you’re made of.”
I’m back on autopilot as my fingers curl around each of the throbbing lengths and stroke them to the rhythm of the music and Logan’s furious pounding. Then someone’s hands and mouth are on my tits, and another hand works on massaging my clit. I don’t think, don’t wonder which of them is doing what, I just let it happen. I give in to this sexual feast where I’m the main course.
The sensations rippling through my body from t
he three men’s busy hands on my clit and breasts, paired with Logan’s cock slamming in and out, are so intense that it bubbles up inside me like an idling rocket, waiting for final take off. When it finally happens, I scream with my head resting on Logan’s hard chest. An electrified orgasm rips through my core, stealing every last bit of my energy and making my entire body limp.
Logan clamps down on my neck, sucking and biting, and fucking me even harder until I’m dizzy from the pressure on my already quivering pussy. The fingers against my clit disappear, but fingers pinch one nipple and teeth play with the other as I resume stroking the guys at my side. As soon as Logan finishes off with a final thrust and a great roar, warm cum shoots against one of my arms, then my stomach from the other side as Logan’s friends take turns moaning and twitching inside my hands.
“So fuckin’ hot,” the shorter of the two strippers says in a breathy tone. “You up for double penetration, sweetheart?”
“She can suck you off while Logie and I take care of her,” the taller man tells him.
All at once, I again feel like one of the club whores, a seemingly reoccurring theme these past few days. It takes me a minute to gather my pride before I whimper, “Let me down.”
“You’re not gonna freak out, are you?” the taller stripper asks.
“Let. Me. Down,” I repeat through clench teeth.
“Relax, baby,” Logan says, gently lowering me back to my feet. “Get outta here, guys. Give us a minute.”
“Nice meetin’ ya,” the taller stripper says with a sarcastic bite. The two guys chuckle as they exit through the back of the stage. Shit. I don’t even know their names.
Unlike the sessions with Colt and Ranger, I feel completely humiliated and used with the feel of two stranger’s spunk running all over my body. I collect Logan’s shorts from the floor, using them to wipe myself clean.
“You alright?” Logan asks, scowling at the shorts when I whip them to the ground.
