Red

by Kim Jones

  “It’s fine. I’ll go. We taking the bike?” I ask, trying to keep cool even though I want to flip the fucking table over and throw shit.

  “You already know the answer to that question. Quit trying to act like this doesn’t bother you. Talk to me, Red. Don’t shut me out.” Can I be honest with him? It’s obvious that I’m conflicted, but can I trust him with the real reason?

  “I’ve done really good these past couple of weeks. I just don’t want to get caught up in the atmosphere. Withdrawal was bad, but knowing that the dancing part of my life is over, is pretty depressing. Imagine not being able to ride anymore. It’s hard to say goodbye to the only thing you’ve ever known.” I’ve just poured my heart out to him. Now, he knows my struggle. But even still, his faith in me is unshakeable.

  “Trust me when I tell you that you’ll be fine. You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for.” I smile at his answer. He gives me a wink before pulling his phone out and excusing himself from the table.

  I pick at the rest of my food, contemplating what he said. He’s right. I am strong, or a hell of a lot stronger than I once was. I can do this. I will do this. With a newfound energy and confidence in myself, I go in search of Regg. Tonight will be the start to the rest of my life, and for the first time, I am looking forward to it.

  “I lied. I can’t do this,” I say, once we are standing outside of Rick’s Lounge. It’s located in the heart of downtown Jackson, Mississippi-about an hour ride for us. Even though the temperature is in the forties, I feel sweat break out across my lip and on the back of my neck.

  “Yes, you can. And I want you to wear this tonight.” I look down to see that Regg holds a black and orange bandana in his hand. It’s embroidered with ‘PROPERTY OF DEVIL’S RENEGADES.’ I place it in my back pocket, allowing everyone in the bar to know that I’m spoken for. The only problem is, it doesn’t have Regg’s name on it. Not that I want to be his property, but I wouldn’t mind all these bitches knowing that he isn’t available. Just the thought of some girl trying to stake a claim on him has fury flowing through my veins.

  “You okay?” Brooklyn asks, coming to stand beside me.

  “I’m fine. I just need a drink.” Tonight, the only people here are Luke, Ronnie, Brooklyn, Possum, Punkin, Regg and me. I don’t know what the business is, but when the doors open, I find several patches sitting around a booth near the stage. The room is dark, the only light coming from the one illuminating the stage and the beer signs above the bar. At one time, it was comfortable. Now, I felt the need to watch my back.

  “Goose on the rocks,” I tell the bartender. My eyes scan the room, noticing the half naked women parading around in hopes of getting a private. They look strung out and desperate and I wonder if I ever looked like that.

  When the bartender informs me that I owe her eighteen dollars, I start to ask if she’s out of her fucking mind. Then, I remember I don’t have any money.

  “Um,”

  “Here,” Regg says, slipping some money in my hand as he walks past me. I look down to see three, one hundred dollars bills, and wonder how much he thinks I plan on drinking tonight. I pay for mine, Brooklyn and Punkin’s drinks and order a round of beer for the guys. Including the three men from the other club. Maybe then, I can keep the blood sucking female wolves from interrupting their meeting, and the hell away from Regg.

  I link the bottles between my fingers and pass them out to the men, flashing them my best smile. I feel the tension dissipate a little and Luke shoots me a thankful smirk. Punkin insists that we sit at a table in the far corner of the room. She chooses the seat that has her back to the wall and I’m forced to sit in a chair that has my back facing the room.

  “What’s the meeting about?” I ask, sipping my drink and enjoying the slow burn of the vodka a little too much.

  “Same ol’ shit. Luke’s tryin’ to take the club in a different direction. Wants to work something out with the Freebirds MC. Give them a piece of the business.” Brooklyn’s words are spoken with pride. I know a lot of the MC doesn’t stand behind Luke in his decision to incorporate the club in something that isn’t illegal. The money is too good for them to take such a risk. But, the ones who want a better future for their families and the club, are definitely on board.

  “I feel like I’ve been so caught up in my own shit that I’m behind on what’s going on.” Even though I wasn’t an ol’ lady, I still had deep ties with the club. There wasn’t much Luke didn’t share with me, and he knew no matter what he said, he could trust me with the information. I was a vault.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re better. Club needs you around. It’s hard enough finding good men for soldiers, much less the women. And Lord knows we’re the glue that holds it all together.”

  “Truth,” I say, lifting my glass to Brooklyn’s. She’s right. The men might do the dirty work, but we are the ones there when shit falls to pieces.

  “Can we get a table dance?” Punkin asks, oblivious to our conversation. As if she could hear her say it, a beautiful brunette walks up to the table, offering us a dance. I sit back in my chair, silently critiquing the girl on every move she makes. Most dancers make the mistake of underestimating women. They spend all of their time and energy on the men, but it’s the ladies that are usually the best tippers. The fact that she never made eye contact and never took off her top, showed me that either she was inexperienced, or was just trying to pass the time.

  I excuse myself during the middle of the dance, hoping it pisses her off. Maybe next time, she will be a little more accommodating. I don’t particularly find joy in watching women take off their clothes, but I do believe that if you’re gonna represent this business, then you need to do it to the best of your ability.

  The bathroom smells like baby powder, vomit and liquor…home. I take a minute to stare at the woman looking back at me in the mirror. I’ve gained almost all of my weight back, allowing my black, leather pants to fit tight on my hips. My black shirt clings to my skin and the knee high boots and leather jacket not only kept me warm on the ride here, but they compliment my outfit. My red hair has gotten long, hanging freely down my back in soft waves. It seems strange being here with all of my clothes on.

  After I’ve stayed gone long enough for the dancer to leave our table, I walk back into the smoke filled room, stopping at the bar for another drink. While I’m waiting, my eyes wander over to the booth lined with leather cuts and I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up. In the lap of Regg, sits the brunette that was just dancing at our table. Her tits are pressed against his chest as she runs her fingers through his hair. The sexy smile he’s giving her has my blood at a boiling point. When I notice his hands on her ass, I can’t stop my feet from moving towards them.

  I know I have no right to claim Regg as mine. I know I shouldn’t feel this jealous rage inside of me. But, the only tits on his chest should be mine. The only hands in his hair should belong to me. And the only ass he needs to be squeezing is on its way over to him right now.

  Ignoring the men around me, I walk up behind the girl who’s grinding in the lap of a man that doesn’t belong to her. I hear Luke say something, but the only sound registering in my brain is the ringing in my ears. Without a second thought, I grab the bitch’s hair in my hand and pull, dragging her and her ratchet-ass body off of my man. While she’s too busy fighting with my left hand that is in her hair, I connect with the tip of her nose with my right. Blood gushes everywhere, but I don’t stop. I manage to get a few more quick licks in before someone grabs me around my waist. My hand is still tangled in her hair, and I refuse to let go.

  “Enough!” Regg yells, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look into his eyes. They are burning with power, and instantly my fingers release their death grip. Dominance radiates off of Regg in waves that hit me straight in the chest and fall straight to my pussy. This is angry Regg. I’ve seen him once, but this time it’s different. The authority in his voice has me longing to drop to my knees and submit to hi
m. Or take him in my mouth. Or turn around so he can take me from behind.

  “Outside. Now.” His command is not one to be argued with. I step over the crying girl on the floor, fighting like hell to control the urge to kick the shit outta her. I push through the glass doors that lead outside, fumbling for my cigarettes. I light one up, keeping my back turned to Regg who I know is standing behind me. I don’t have to look and see if he is there, I can feel his presence.

  “We are not gonna talk about this. All I’m gonna say is that if it ain’t already obvious, I didn’t like that girl sitting in your lap.” My voice is controlled, even though I am anything but.

  “Red,” Regg starts, but I cut him off.

  “Just shut up, Regg.” He mumbles something under his breath and tries again.

  “Look I-,”

  “I don’t want to hear it.”

  “Will you just look at me?” Without waiting for me to reject him, he grabs my elbow and turns me around, pushing me against the brick wall and pressing his body against mine.

  “I said, I don’t want to hear it,” I snap, not in the mood for a lecture.

  “And who the fuck said I wanted to talk?” His mouth closes in on mine, and I immediately give into him. My hands fist in his hair as his knee separates my legs, pressing against my pussy and igniting a fire in my groin. I moan in his mouth, loving the way his hands feel on my neck. He pushes my jacket off my shoulders roughly, causing it to bunch at my elbows-limiting my mobility. “Tell me this is what you want,” he demands, pulling my earlobe into his mouth and sucking.

  “You know this is what I want.” It’s all I’ve wanted. I’ve waited months for this to happen, and now, outside of a strip club, in the open for anyone to see, it’s going to happen.

  “Say it. I want to hear you say it.” His eyes burn bright with lust, exuding power that has enough force to make me give him anything he wants in this moment.

  “I want you to fuck me,” I say, wishing my words were stronger. But, his body demands all of me, making me feel submissive and lacking control.

  “After I’m finished with you, babe, you’ll have every fuckin’ reason in the world to be jealous.” Just his words have me whimpering with need. With skilled precision, he unbuttons my pants, sliding his hand around to my ass and beneath my panties. “Damn, I want this,” he says, pulling my bottom lip between his teeth, and I don’t know if he’s talking about my lips or my ass, but he can have either or both. He deepens the kiss, pushing my pants to my knees before pulling his mouth away from mine.

  “Turn around, Red,” he commands, making my belly swarm with anticipation. I face the wall, placing my palms on the brick while his hand moves over my hip bone to my throbbing clit.

  “Oh fuck.” My knees go weak when he begins the slow, torturous movement of his fingers across my pussy. I hear the tear of a condom wrapper moments before I feel his cock, thick and hard against my ass, causing my breath to leave me.

  “Pretty little ass,” he says as he guides himself to my wet and begging entrance. He pushes inside me slowly, filling me completely before stopping. It’s everything I’ve never had and more. I want to walk around with him strapped to my back, buried deep inside of me because I can’t imagine not having him there. “Damn girl. You’re so fuckin’ tight. Why is your pussy so wet, Red?” he asks, and when I take too long to answer, he thrusts his hips, sending a jolt of electrifying ecstasy through me. “Answer me.”

  “It’s wet for you. Only you,” I pant, wanting him to move, but wanting him to stay still in fear that this might be over too soon if he does. He moves inside of me, long slow strokes until I’ve adjusted completely to him and I’m begging for more. He backs up a step, pulling me with him then places his hand in the center of my back, urging me to bend over. He wraps my hair around his hand, holding my head back as he continues to slowly fuck me.

  “Tell me you want it harder,” he says, his grip on my hip tightening.

  “Please, Regg. Fuck me harder.” I need him to. If he doesn’t, I’m almost positive I will die. I’ve never needed him as much as I do in this moment.

  “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you beg for my cock.” Before my mind has time to process his words, he’s moving. He’s fucking me hard, working his cock in and out of me at a pace that I didn’t think was humanly possible. His strokes are deep, fast-never letting me recover from the elation I feel every time he hits that sweet spot deep inside my pussy. My back arches further, intensifying his movements, and causing that feeling of release to build rapidly inside of me. Unable to hold out any longer, I come around him, my walls pulsating, squeezing him tight inside of me. I cry out, and he releases my hair to smother my screams with his hand. His movements slow, and then on one final thrust, he groans as he comes deep inside of me.

  We stay like this a few moments longer as we both fight to catch our breath. The music from inside is dull in comparison to our heavy breathing. All too soon, he pulls out of me, leaving me feeling empty and in need of him again. He pulls me back to his chest, letting me rest my weight on him while he rights my clothes. His fingers graze my neck, pulling my hair away from it to kiss just below my ear.

  “Anger looks good on you, Miss Deen,” he whispers, causing chills to run down my body. “Next time, let’s try to avoid the bloodshed.”

  “There better not be a next time,” I say, feeling that familiar sense of jealousy forming again.

  “Well, if there is, I promise to make sure there is a parking lot around to fuck you in.” I smile to myself, still reeling in the aftershocks of my mind-blowing orgasm that only he is capable of giving me. I let him lead me back in the bar, thoroughly fucked, utterly sated and completely open to the idea of him making me jealous anytime he wants.

  Chapter Twenty

  No More Loneliness

  Nobody said anything when we walked back inside the club. The bouncer had tried to prevent me from coming inside, but Regg stuffed a few bills in his hand to keep him quiet. If Brooklyn and Punkin were aware of what Regg and I had just done, they kept it to themselves. Regg kept me close by his side for the remainder of our time there, which wasn’t but about thirty minutes. He looked totally put together, not in the least effected by what had just taken place. I was beginning to think that he’d completely forgotten what happened until I saw him put the same finger he’d had in my pussy in his mouth.

  The ride home is unbelievably cold. When we stop at the halfway point to smoke, I can’t even light my cigarette. My leather pants look amazing, and were enough to keep me warm on the way down, but the ride back is a different story. I don’t complain though, that’s something that is highly frowned upon in the MC. If the bitch can’t hang, then she don’t deserve to ride. I know that all too well. I’ve seen too many women left in parking lots for bitching.

  “I know your ass is cold,” Luke says, fighting hard to keep from laughing his ass off. I’d give him the finger, but I can’t get it to function. If I was gonna go back to riding, I would definitely have to buy some new leathers. “Say it, Red. Come on, bitch about the cold. I’m beggin’ you.” Luke’s smartass mouth has me thinking of riding home naked just to prove I can.

  “You can’t look good and ride, sugar,” Ronnie chimes in, leaning back on his heels to give me that raspy laugh I love so much.

  “K-keep talking shit,” I stutter, standing close to the motor on Regg’s bike to try and thaw out.

  “Leave her alone, Ronnie. Nobody knew it was gonna get this cold.” I smile at Brooklyn, thankful for her coming to my defense. “I’ll give you twenty bucks if you bitch, Red.” The club erupts in laughter, and I can’t help but laugh myself.

  “Hell, that ain’t even enough for a taxi to get me home.”

  “You could always pit and pat. You’ll have blisters the size of golf balls wearing them damn heels,” Possum laughs, confirming that I’m on my own here. I look to Punkin, seeing if I have at least one on my team.

  “Don’t look at me, I ain�
��t carryin’ your ass.” Great. Even though I’m the butt of the joke, it’s comforting being in the presence of this greatness-my family. I never realized how much I missed this until now.

  “You gonna make it?” Regg asks, coming up behind me and placing his body dangerously close to mine.

  “I thought you had faith in me, Regg.” I turn to him, allowing him to light the cigarette that’s been dangling from my mouth since we stopped.

  “I do have faith in you, Red. I have a jacket too. You want it?” That slimy bastard. This whole time, he’d had a jacket and had not offered it to me. Because I’m a stubborn bitch, I refuse.

  “I’d rather ride home naked,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “Suit yourself.”

  Ronnie announces that break time is over and we mount the bikes. Only thirty more minutes. I can totally do this.

  For the second time tonight, I lied to myself. I totally cannot do this. We’re running well over a hundred. My back has yet to feel the sissy bar because I’m pressed as close as possible to Regg-nearly up under him. I can no longer feel my legs, snot is frozen to my face and we’re only fifteen minutes in. When the red light for Collins comes into view, I nearly pee from the excitement.

  Breaking off from the pack, Regg steers us down the winding road that leads to his house. From the highway, he lives down a gravel road, up a hill, through a pasture, across a creek and deep in the woods-somewhere. By the time we finally turn down the drive, I’m sure my blood has slivers of ice in it.

  He pulls the bike into the barn, and even long after he’s cut off the engine, I can’t move.

  “You gonna get off?” Those words have so many meanings, that it takes me a second to realize what he’s saying.

  “I don’t think I can,” I say, keeping my hands that are under his cut, wrapped tightly around his waist. He grabs my arms, easily removing them and I start to protest, but he wraps them around his neck. He then grabs my legs, wrapping each one around his waist before getting off the bike and piggy-backing me inside. Well, that worked.