Bud (Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club Book 10)

Home > Paranormal > Bud (Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club Book 10) > Page 24
Bud (Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club Book 10) Page 24

by Candace Blevins


  “Do you plan to do this forever? You don’t want to go back to school?”

  “I’m no good at school. Shadow says it isn’t that I’m stupid, it’s just that I don’t learn the same as other people. Brain helped me invest my extra money, so I’ll be able to live on it when I stop doin’ this, and now Shadow watches it for me. My house is paid for and I don’t need much.” She shrugged again, uncomfortable. “I like my job, now that it’s my choice. I like making people feel good, listening about stuff goin’ on in their life if they want to tell me. Some want an escape from that, others want to talk about it. I’m here for whatever they need. I might like to do something to help people another way, someday. Takes schoolin’ to be a therapist, but Shadow says there are people who train therapy dogs, and says I could learn how to do that. He thinks I’d be good at it.” She grew terribly uncomfortable, and looked at her hands. “I volunteer at the local shelter, and help socialize dogs who don’t get adopted. I’m no good with the cats, but I have a way with the dogs.”

  Nickie wondered if Kate knew she worked for werewolves, and figured she likely didn’t.

  “I’m sure you’ll be great at whatever you put your mind to. Is there anything else you’d like to tell me? What if you just really don’t like a client?”

  “Do you like everyone you work with? Sometimes shit happens. If there’s someone I don’t like, I’ll have whoever’s manning the computer make a note of it, but I’m always clear it isn’t because of something they did. If the schedulers can keep from putting us together again they will, but there’s no guarantee. If I think someone should be asking for a different type of girl, I’ll write it up and turn it in. Some men want to get rough but don’t want to pay for it, and they’ll ride the line of what’s allowed when they haven’t paid for extra. Just once, I’ll chalk it up to gettin’ carried away, but twice and I’ll note it in their chart — not enough for the MC to say nothing’ to them unless another girl makes the same note.”

  “Have you seen Daniel since you came to work here? The asshole who took you in when you first got into town?”

  “The MC shut him down. Took the girls who didn’t want to hook to a shelter, and farmed out the rest to pimps who’d take care of them without beatin’ on ’em. The MC don’t house us, we have to do that ourselves. Bash helped me get an apartment as a personal favor, not because he’s in the club.”

  Bash. Why did that name sound familiar? Oh, Bud’s son-in-law. “Is Bash married to Bud’s daughter now? In Chattanooga?”

  “Yeah. A bunch of men started a new chapter. They left on good terms and Bud helped them get set up, gave them advice and shit. Most of the girls, they don’t know much about the club other than the bikers who work here, but I pay attention and listen.”

  “I asked earlier if your boyfriends know what you do, and you didn’t answer.”

  “Not at first. I have to tell them before things get too serious, but not first thing.”

  “What do you say when they ask what you do?”

  “I talk about working at the animal shelter, and after I’ve talked about individual dogs and how far I’ve taken them for ten minutes, they don’t bring it up again.”

  Nickie smiled. “Shadow’s right, you know. You aren’t stupid.”

  She touched her watch and smiled back. “At first, it felt like I was takin’ advantage to just answer questions and make you pay like it was a regular session, but this has been harder than eatin’ you out for an hour.”

  “Do women hire you?”

  “Sometimes. Usually women want someone more aggressive than me, but if they specify they want someone passive and compliant that they’ll need to be gentle with, the office sets them up with me.”

  “Are you submissive?”

  “They don’t use those words unless someone asks for kink. I’m not into power exchange, I just don’t like it rough.” For the first time, her smile was mischievous. “I know Bud likes to spank his girls and make them mind, so you’re probably kinkier than me.”

  “Yeah, I actually don’t mind being strung up and beat with a belt, but only with a proper warmup and a safeword.”

  “Bud uses safewords?”

  “You seem to know a lot about his preferences.”

  “Gossip.”

  “Bud doesn’t, I do. It was a dealbreaker.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Thanks. Okay, one last question. What do you prefer to be called? Your job description.”

  “We usually say we’re professionals, or working girls. I don’t mind most of the other words. I’m a whore, so getting upset for being called one seems silly. Jeni prefers professional or sex-worker, but is okay with workin’ girl. She’ll get pissed if you call her a whore. The outcall girls — the ones who mostly do The Girlfriend Experience — prefer to be called escorts.”

  “Jeni knew a lot about you. Are all the girls close?”

  “No. I took Jeni in under my wing and helped her figure out her thing, when she started. She had no idea she liked bein’ treated like a baby, and kind of freaked when someone wanted it and she had the most powerful orgasms she’d ever had.”

  “You’d make a good therapist, if you didn’t dislike school so much. How do I pay? I want to tip both of you extra for being so honest, is that going to be awkward since Jeni’s gone?”

  She stepped to the bedside table and opened a drawer, pulled three envelopes and a pen out, and set them on the bed within Nickie’s reach. “I’ll make a quick trip to the bathroom while you sort things out. There are two tip envelopes and a payment one. Write our names on the tip envelopes. I can take them, or you can give them to the front desk, or to Bud, I guess, since you’re going to him from here. Some people want me to leave at this point and they take them to the front desk, most give the envelopes to me or leave them on the table, and I turn the payment in and keep the tip. Whatever makes you comfortable, but I figure you’ll want me to walk you to the office.”

  “Yes, I would. Thanks for offering.”

  26

  Bud listened to the conversation, but didn’t know what to expect when the hour was up. All rooms were equipped with audio feeds, though none were recorded. Whoever was working security could hear all the rooms at once, but they eventually learned how to ignore it unless something demanded attention, in which case he’d walk the doors and listen with his wolf hearing to figure out which room was the problem and whether he should intervene.

  Still, Bud had no idea what to expect when Nickie stepped into his office.

  “I need to get drunk. Not just a little soused, but fall-on-my-face drunk. If you’ll make that happen and babysit me, you’re more than welcome to take full advantage of me once you get me safely home.”

  That was the last thing he’d expected, but he wasn’t about to argue.

  “Is our bar okay, or do you want me to take you somewhere else?”

  “Your bar is fine as long as I can have all the margaritas I want.”

  “You drank mojitos in Cancun.”

  She lifted both eyebrows, dropped them, and shrugged. “Tonight, I want margaritas.”

  “What the lady wants, the lady shall get.”

  “I don’t have my helmet with me or I’d wanna ride the back of your bike.”

  “I can borrow a helmet and have it sent back when we get there.”

  “No. Patrick and Tyler usually like a heads up on that kind of thing ahead of time. It’s only a few blocks.”

  “Okay, but for the record, I’d love to pull into the lot with your arms around me from behind.”

  “Things to look forward to.”

  Her voice was light, but it gave him hope. The fact she wanted to get drunk told him she wasn’t ready to talk about it just yet, so Bud didn’t push.

  The bar was hoppin’ when they stepped in, and Bud leaned in to ask if she wanted a table just for the two of them, or if she wanted to sit at a table with some of his brothers.

  “The more the merrier, though if I get too t
alkative you might want to move me away from them.” She put her hand to the center of his chest. “Seriously, don’t let me ramble in front of your friends once I’m drunk. Your job as babysitter is to keep me from embarrassing myself. Tell me to hold that thought until we move somewhere else, or something. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m trusting you.”

  “Lotta trust going both ways.”

  “Yeah.”

  The single word sounded heavy. He wasn’t looking forward to the talk they’d eventually have about his business interests, but Bud hoped they’d find their way through it.

  “When do I get to meet your daughter?”

  Well, that was promising. “This weekend if you’d like.”

  “And her husband?”

  “Is that important?”

  “I think it might be. He used to live here? Was one of your men? Why did he leave?”

  “He left on good terms. The brothers who left to form another chapter did so with my full support.”

  Bud walked her to a table mostly filled with bikers and introduced her around the table. A waitress walked up and he told her, “This is Nickie. Keep the margaritas coming. Don’t let her run out. I want two steaks and huge bowl of our homemade chips with blue cheese pieces melted all over.” He looked at Nickie. “You’re welcome to my chips. You want anything else?”

  “No, the chips sound good. Thanks.” Nickie looked up at the waitress. “Tell the bartender to make sure there’s lots of salt on the rim, please? And the first can be mixed regular, but after that I want them mixed strong. The goal is for me to leave in a drunken stupor.”

  “Everything okay?” Nickie turned and seemed surprised to see Shadow.

  “Yeah, just need to clear my head. I worked out until every muscle in my body hurt earlier. I think I’ll try the drunken route this time.”

  “You’ve come to the right place.” Shadow took a seat across the large round table and held his nearly empty beer up for the waitress to see.

  Nickie was comfortable around Bud’s brothers and seemed interested in who they were as individuals. So many people saw a biker wearing his colors and couldn’t see past the stereotype. Conversation was all over the place, and eventually moved to Nickie’s fictional werewolves. The men asked her about the rules and how she came up with them. She explained how her rules are all about making them hot and fuckable, and one of the ol’ladies asked to hear a sample.

  Nickie pulled something up on her phone, and Bud told her he’d need to look it over before he let her read it. She started to protest, but he reminded her, “You asked me to keep you from embarrassing yourself.”

  She handed the phone over, and he had to work not to get a hard-on as he read the down-and-dirty scene describing exactly how it felt for a cock to penetrate a pussy. He had no idea how she knew how it felt for a man, but this crowd wouldn’t think lesser of her for it — they’d probably like her more.

  When his darling Nickie finished reading her two-minute long excerpt, the table was speechless for a few seconds, but Sparky had been leaned against her ol’man, and she sat up and said, “Fuck. I orgasmed without touching myself. How do I buy your books? How do I buy that book?”

  “I’m sorry, if someone told me your name, I don’t remember it?” said Nickie.

  “Penny, but everyone calls me Sparky.”

  “Ask her why!” someone shouted from another table.

  “Why?” Nickie asked, without missing a beat.

  Sparky’s face went pink, but she started the story. Bud knew her ol’man would finish it, though. He always did.

  “When we go on road trips,” Sparky began, “sometimes we camp. Just a big field with all our tents — usually only a few feet between them. If you fuck in your tent, everyone’s gonna hear. My first road trip with Texas, I didn’t wanna have sex in the tent. He told me tough shit, we’d be there three days and he wasn’t going without just because I didn’t want anyone to hear.” She looked at him a second with an accusatory smile, but he didn’t look the least bit apologetic.

  “She’d brought this bug zapper thing,” said Texas. “Looks like a tennis racket but with metal wires instead of strings. You push a button and it electrifies the wires, and when you hit the bug it zaps it dead. The longer you hold the button, the more electrified the wires get.”

  “Oh, my God!” Nickie squealed. “You’re Texas! With the Texas drawl!” She looked around the table and added. “Sorry, I just put it together. I’m apparently well on my way to drunk. Please keep going. I’m sorry I interrupted.”

  “No problem, sugar,” Texas drawled, layering his accent on even more. “Sparky was wearin’ this cute little skirt, and I’d already gotten her out of her underwear, so all I had to do was tip her over my lap. I pushed the button to let the thing charge up, but she couldn’t see what I had in my hand. I told her she could choose between everyone hearing her get fucked or spanked, and when she said I wouldn’t dare, I lit her ass the fuck up. Just a tap, but a spark flew out six inches.”

  “It made a huge red mark!” Sparky told him as she punched his arm. “It fucking hurt!”

  “Made her horny as fuck, too.” Texas added. “Now I have a modified cattle prod I use on her, with the volts and amps set so it can’t kill her and won’t burn her, but it packs even more of a wallop than the bug zapper.”

  “He’s an asshole, but he’s my asshole,” Sparky said with an exaggerated eye-roll, and Bud grinned as the two leaned into each other without even thinking about it. Bud had been that close to someone once. He hadn’t met anyone since his wife died he wanted to be close to.

  Not until Nickie. Fuck, but she had him twisted inside out.

  Nickie drank fast until she was buzzed, but then wasn’t in a hurry to get drunk. She paced her margaritas, drank some water here and there, and snacked on the chips. However, two and a half hours later she was handed her fourteenth margarita, and Bud wondered if it might be time to get her home.

  “You should’ve told me earlier. ’Bout the girls.”

  Bud shook his head, once again wondering if his wolf had let him know this was about to start, or if his human subconscious had known.

  “Maybe, but I didn’t. Let’s get you out of here.”

  Nickie looked around, considered whether she wanted to leave, licked the rim, and downed the full glass in one long drink. “Yeah. Okay. Am I on your bike or with my security guys?”

  “Had someone pull my bike into the back room here. I’ll ride with you and your guards.”

  “Oh, good. That’s nice.”

  She easily stood when he urged her up, and leaned into him as they walked. “Shit, I’m drunk.”

  “Thought that was the goal.”

  “Well, yeah, but I’m drunker than drunk.”

  “Nah, you’re still upright and walking.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not finished getting drunk yet. It might be good to get me home before that last drink hits my bloodstream.” She sighed. “I always assumed prostitutes were exploited, but Kate enjoys her job and Jeni is using it to better herself without going into debt. Do I have to rethink everything?”

  “Not everything. Katie was in bad shape when Bash rescued her. Even if prostitution were legal, there’d still be scumbags preying on runaway teens because there’s a market for kids. We tried to move Katie away from sex work, but when it became apparent she’d go back to it on her own, we put her to work for us to keep her safe. She was eighteen by then, though barely.”

  “She introduced herself to me as Kate.”

  “Yeah, she’s trying to be more grown up now. She was definitely a Katie when we found her, but she’s turned into Kate. She mothers the new girls, takes care of anyone she thinks isn’t handling something well. My guys have told me when she decides to retire, we’d do well to offer her a job in the office. If we can teach her to use the computer enough to schedule, she’ll still be around to act as a kind of madam to the girls.”

  “Why not offer it n
ow?”

  “Decision has to be hers, not ours. She has something like three and a half years left on Brain and Shadow’s master plan, where she’ll theoretically have enough money to retire as long as she lives frugally, but she still enjoys her job. She’d miss it, if she just had to watch other girls get to have all the fun.”

  “Do you know so much about all your employees? Did you somehow know to put her in the lobby, knowing I’d pick the submissive looking one?”

  “No. If you want to talk to one of our pro-Dommes, I’ll set it up. They work out of a small house we bought for just that purpose. Three dungeons, with one of the rooms set up to house submissives who pay for an extended stay of two to five days. Are you sobering up? Your words aren’t as slurred.”

  “No, I’m just focused and alert. I’ll relax again when I’m home.”

  “Okay.” Bud opened the door. “Let’s get you home then.”

  “When I figure all this out, I’ll go to another city and find sex workers who are willing to talk to me for a story. I’ll blur them out or put them behind a screen if they want, but I want to do an intensive, in-depth look into this. Maybe for a news organization, or possibly a non-fiction book if there’s enough material. I mean, how is the customer supposed to know if the woman he’s paying is being exploited or is… well, in a way, exploiting him. I don’t think Kate means to exploit anyone, but Jeni certainly sees it that way. She doesn’t even like some of the people she fucks, and she doesn’t care because she’s just doing it for the money.”

  “Is that wrong of Jeni?”

  “Fuck no. The men don’t likely care about her either. They just want a hole to stick their dick in.”

 

‹ Prev