Consume Me

by Ryan Michele

  The downfall of her helping me with the ID and then later the private dressing room is that her cautions are up with me. I see it in her eyes and actions, but she’s never said a word and hasn’t to this day.

  The women here snicker, saying I’m a stuck up bitch or think I’m too good for them. The best was that I was fucking Princess and that’s how I got my own room. It doesn’t matter; this is for the best and soon enough I will be done with all of this. I need to find the right job and sadly, around here, there aren’t too many to choose from that pay the kind of money I make here. It’s not a bad job, if you overlook the fact that I take my clothes off for men that get woodys and jack off to me later, it’s just not the one that I want as my career. Luckily, when Princess got me an ID, she also got me a Social Security number and birth certificate so I could get an honest job if I could find it. I majored in business and minored in accounting. One would think my range of jobs is large, but not here in Sumner and I really don’t want to leave. I’ve thought about it, but never too hard.

  I stride by the women and swing the door open, the night air hitting my skin like a cool caress. Cali, as usual, is right behind me as I reach my four-door Jeep. I love this damn thing, bought it all by myself, and the best part is that it’s paid for thanks to X. I added KC lights to the top and extra rugged wheels; right now, they’re for looks, but one day, I’m going out mudding. That’s gotta be a hell of a lot of fun. I saw on it on a show once and the people seemed like they were having a blast. I haven’t had fun in I can’t remember how long and it’s nice to dream.

  “Thanks, Cali.” This man took on a very boring job protecting me, but does it with no questions asked and I seriously like him. When I got the dressing room from Princess, she said that if I needed my own room then I’d need my own guard too. I didn’t care one way or the other and I thought she was just trying to prove a point, but he’s stayed with me. I really like having him around to escort me out to my car, if nothing else.

  “You’re welcome, Ms. Blaze. Safe driving.” l lock the doors, not out of paranoia but out of safety—at least that’s what I tell myself. There is that possibility of one of the men from the club coming out and starting shit, thinking that I’ll have sex with them and even offering a shit load of money, but I don’t roll that way. I may strip but I am not a prostitute. There were a few instances when I first started, all right several, but I handled them. Come to think of it, they are probably the reason Princess demanded Cali, whatever.

  Out on the road, I roll my window down and the crisp air filters inside as the streetlights pass by in a blur. Tug. Built, rugged, tatted, and sexy man. My heart thumps in my throat. From the first time I laid eyes on him in the club, I knew he was going to be trouble for me. God, he’s gorgeous. He is the total package. Bulging biceps covered in tats, sexy, brown hair that curls slightly at the ends where it brushes his shoulders, and chocolate-colored eyes outlined with a hint of green all called to me from that moment. It’s no different even now.

  When I came in to meet Princess for a job about four years ago, the place was loaded with big, strong men all wearing leather vests. Each one had this aura of dominance, control and a bit of danger. Scary actually. They all had their own unique brand of hotness, which sent off loud warning bells. That kind of man reminded me of my old life and I had just left one bad situation. I sure as hell didn’t need another. I made a vow then to keep to myself and stay away from them. Princess told me they actually owned the club and were part of the Ravage Motorcycle Club, whatever that meant, so I have been cordial, but that’s as far as it got. I even talked to Princess about it and she said she’d deal with it. Whatever she did has worked, until Tug.

  When he came along to prospect, which I found out meant he was in training to become a member of the club, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. I’d glance down at him every so often while on stage, that in and of itself was a huge no-no for me, but I couldn’t resist. I don’t interact with customers and the fact he caught me excited and scared the shit out of me.

  That first night I ever saw him, on my way out of X, I caught him fucking a girl named Cindy up against the building. Their moans filled the night air, his jeans around his ankles and Cindy bent over, her hands pressed onto the brick of the building, ass sticking out. They were fucking hard, both obviously enjoying themselves, yelling and grunting. My heart sank and I didn’t stick around. I doubt he even saw me standing there or knew I saw him. Not that he would have cared one way or the other.

  The sight of him in that situation actually helped me. Every time that flutter came to my heart, I’d picture him fucking Cindy and my heart would deflate, which is what I wanted. There was no room in my life for him then and there is no room for him now.

  I bought my three-bedroom, brick ranch house two years ago. I pull up to my sanctuary and instantly feel relieved. I’ve never had a stable place to call home. Growing up, my mom moved us from place to place because she couldn’t afford the rent, and each spot we went to she tried to make a home, but it never felt like it. The place we ended up was definitely not home, but this place is totally mine. Paid for and the deed’s in my name only. Home. It’s not much but it’s my stable place and that means the world to me. That’s why tears spring to my eyes at the thought of ever leaving it. This small piece of property means the world to me, one that my mom could never give me.

  I’m lucky enough to have a home that is surrounded by trees. The park is next to it, giving it a secluded feel, but I have neighbors down the block. This house used to be the caretaker of the park’s home, but budget cuts made them sell it. Luckily, I had money saved up and was able buy it on the spot. It needed fixed up, badly. I watched internet videos to try to learn how to do some of it, but ended up hiring contractors. It was for the best.

  I had a security system installed and added all the amenities that I wanted, including a jacuzzi tub in my bathroom which, unfortunately, is rarely used. I need to relax in it more. This home is my peace. It is my calm. It is mine.

  After showering X off me and changing into my comfy purple heart fluffy pajamas, I’m still wide awake from the night, pumped actually. Serious adrenaline rush. Some night I get them, while others I come home and just pass out. A movie is in order. Action, I need action and hot men. Hmm… Fight Club with sexy Brad… Oh yeah.

  Throwing some popcorn in the microwave, I search the freezer for my rocky road ice cream, and find it lodged between two damn icebergs that have formed around it. I jimmy it out with a knife, working up a slight sweat. Guess it’s been a long time since I’ve eaten it or opened the freezer at all. Taking a spoon from the drawer and yanking the top off the icy heaven, I rest my hip against the large kitchen island. I totally gutted and remodeled this space as well. When I first bought it, the avocado green appliances, orange tile and faded linoleum had to go. In their place, white cabinets line the walls along with sleek stainless steel appliances. Not that I cook much, but it’s all there if I ever want to. Chucking the orange tile and replacing it with a light gray was a must. It made the space more open and brighter. I am not a fan of orange, except for Halloween and even then, it’s stretching it.

  The microwave dings, drawing me from my delicious creamy confection. I gather everything up and move to the living room, placing everything on the coffee table. This space is wide open and connected to the kitchen. The brown L-shaped couch and chairs are the most comfortable, pillowy things I’ve ever sat on and normally, I fall asleep in them within minutes. I indulged a bit and bought a huge TV that takes up most of one wall and is centered between two windows. I had the walls painted a light blue then added the same color to the pillows and throw blankets on the couch. I rub my feet over the soft plush carpet, loving it beneath my toes, and after a night of heels, it’s heaven.

  I flick through Netflix to find Fight Club and start the movie while shoving a piece of popcorn in my mouth. Yum, I love buttered popcorn. It was a great day when popcorn was invented. I settle on the couch, prop
my feet up and pull the blanket over me, snuggling into the pillows.

  As I lie staring at the screen watching Brad’s muscles flex, my mind drifts to Tug and I close my eyes, envisioning him in Brad’s place. His abs flexing with each throw he slams into his opponent, his biceps round and hard as he shuffles his feet around the man, ready to bring him down. The other guy throws a punch, but Tug easily fends him off, slamming his fist into the guy’s face and sending blood splattering through the air.

  My hand drifts down my body and under my fuzzy pajama bottoms straight to my sopping wet pussy where my finger swirls around my clit. My hips join in as the movement quickens. Heat invades me and my breathing becomes shallow.

  With my eyes still closed, Tug lands punch after punch, sweat dripping off his face, and rippling down his defined muscles. Oh God.

  The tension in my body curls up like a coil. My other hand grips the couch hard while my climax races through my body and everything in the world stops. Panting, I open my eyes and a pang of disappointment hits when the man of my fantasies is nowhere to be found.

  Brad is on the screen in all his bloody glory beating the hell out of his opponent. Fuck. What is wrong with me? I rip my wet hand out of my pants and throw the blanket off of me. Either I need some serious damn help or to get laid, probably the latter.

  X is hot, steamy, fiery smoking tonight. The full crowd means lots of tips and lots of horny drunk men and women. One would be surprised how many women come to check us out on any given night. Some come to get tips and tricks for their man at home. Some come with their man and I bet don’t even make it to their car before they’re screwing like animals. Some just come to watch for enjoyment.

  I’ve already been on once tonight and I fully admit that the energy out there is electric and exciting. I even felt a little more sway in my hips and more sexy from the energy. Everyone out there is pumped, which can be good or bad and is why I stay in my room waiting for my next dance. Luckily, in this club, Princess wants the men to crave the women, as she calls it, therefore it’s each of the dancers’ choice to work the floor after dancing. Most women want to do this because the majority of private dances come this way, but some like me opt out. Cash is so good on stage that I don’t need to. Yes, I’m that good. That’s not me being cocky, I’m just judging by my bank account. Not to mention with the cocktail waitresses and the girls on the floor, it gets a bit much with this many people here. On top of that, I can’t be in private with a guy I don’t know. Some things I know I can’t handle, and that is one of them.

  I flip through the latest gossip magazine, reading stupid shit I don’t care about. I mean, who cares if a woman is on her nineteenth kid? Seriously. Or that some woman is an internet craze for showing her ass, which I’m sure is photoshopped beyond recognition. A loud bang on the door rattles the walls and I jump. Tug? My room instantly goes up thirty degrees. I try to shake it off. No use in getting my hopes up. Dammit. I don’t want that. I swear my body and brain are on two different playing fields and need to get their shit together.

  “Yeah?” I set down the magazine.

  “Blaze, open up,” Princess says almost in a panic, which is not like her. Her even-keeled approach to business is why X is so successful. In hurried motions, I throw the lock on the door and open it wide, the blast of air rustling both Princess and my hair. Her face is panic-stricken, eyes wide and almost bugging out of her head. Her fists are balled up like she’s itching for a fight and ready to punch, contradicting the panic. She barges in as I shut the door and lock it.

  “Casey’s gone,” she blurts out as she turns to me. This time fear greets me and I don’t like that from one of the strongest women I know.

  “What are you talking about?” I haven’t talked to Casey in a really long time. She went off to school and I just… shit, I should have called her.

  Princess turns to the tall rectangular mirror, its bright round light bulbs illuminating the worry lines on her face. “Some asshole took her. The brothers are going to bring her home. They have Shaina, too.”

  My stomach plummets and I cross my arms around my body protectively. God, I’m going to throw up. Someone took her? “Why would they take her? Is she all right?” I sputter.

  “Club business, but I’m pretty sure it was to get to my brother. Fuck!” she roars, turning to the wall and connecting her fist with a hard thud. Drywall dust scatters to the floor from the force. Her chest rises and falls in slow repetitions, anger emanates off her. The slight wetness in her eye catches my attention, though. What the hell? Seeing Princess mad isn’t a new thing, but having her almost in tears along with it? It’s just not right. It doesn’t happen. It also proves this situation to be dire. Shit.

  “Are they going to hurt her?” I whisper, trying to block out the memories I keep locked down deep inside but failing miserably. With each second that ticks by, they creep in one at a time.

  Princess breathes in deep, gaining some semblance of calm. “I don’t know.” My attention jerks to her, thankful for the distraction from the memories but pained by her words.

  My insides twist into knots as I recall a time when I had no power and felt helpless. I never want anyone to feel that way especially someone who I’ve come to love dearly. I try to clear my thoughts, as if by some stroke of luck, they could fall out of my ears and I’d never have to think about them again. Wishful thinking. “What can I do?” My voice is soft as I get closer to Princess.

  “Watch over the club. I’ve got Doug, Jimmy, and Steve on the floor managing the crowd. I called in Travis and Rick to help. Ace is behind the bar. He can handle that. I need you to take care of the girls.” Ever since Princess’s assistant Liz turned out to be a homicidal maniac and tried to kill her and hurt Cooper, her son, she hasn’t attempted to find a replacement. She’s been handling everything on her own, and I’m not sure how she does it with a man and child, but she says she needs to trust the person fully and hasn’t found them yet. I hope for her sake that she does soon because she is wearing thin and this doesn’t help.

  “Of course.” I need to help in some way. Even if it’s not helping Casey, it will give me something to focus on and take my mind off the situation. Hopefully, it’ll keep my past at bay as well.

  Princess paces around the room like a caged animal ready for a fight. Her hands clutch behind her back and I have no doubt the one she punched the wall with is hurting like a bitch. “DJ knows the lineup and Doug will come in and get the girls when it’s their turn. I need you and Cali to make sure there’s no shit going on.”

  “Where are you going?” I ask carefully.

  She faces me, her eyes a mixture of anger, fear, and sadness. “I’m going to the club to wait for Casey. I want to be there when they bring her home.”

  “You think they will?” Since my mom died, I’ve had very little hope in happy endings. I lost everything when she was taken from me.

  “Yes. In what shape, I don’t know. But they will bring her home.” The confidence in her voice is welcome and puts me slightly at ease. Slightly, because I have to deal with the women who I’ve given every reason to hate me, but that is nothing compared to the hell Casey is living right now.

  “I’ll take care of the girls. We’ll be just fine.”

  Princess rubs the back of her neck with her hand, seeming lost in thought. Feeling the need to comfort her, I place my hand on her shoulder, knowing the love between her and Casey is real, blood or no blood. I only wish I had half of what they have with each other. True, I am a friend of both of them, but their bond is something that stories and Hallmark movies are made of. They include me and I’m grateful for that, but I’ll always be on the outside looking in.

  “Go ahead and go.” I squeeze her arm softly, trying to transfer to her whatever strength I have.

  She wraps her arms around me, surprising me. I stiffen but relax and reciprocate swiftly. If she needs the comfort, I’m more than happy to provide it for her.

  “Be careful tonight. The crowd i
s rowdy and don’t take any shit from the girls.” She maneuvers me to an arm’s distance. “I don’t know what the hell is going on or who exactly has Casey, but keep your eyes and ears open at all times. You hear me?” Warmth fills me at her caring words. It’s been a long time since someone gave a shit about me. “Come on.” She strides to the door and I’m fast on her heels.

  Her high-pitched whistle as soon as she steps over the threshold of my door has my ears ringing. I close my eyes, the sound echoing in the back of my head. When I open them, everyone in the room stops and their full attention is on the woman standing next to me.

  “Listen up! Blaze is in charge.” She points to me as if these girls don’t know who I am and their eyes widen. This will for sure cause some rumors. “You need anything, you go to her. All you have to do tonight is get out on that stage and dance. No extra bullshit. No private dances until Rick and Travis show up.” The girls groan at the money they could lose. “You’ll be fine. It’s for your safety. No shit tonight. Got it?” Princess stares down each one of the girls like a mother scolding her children and they nod in agreement.

  “I’m serious as shit here girls. She tells you to fucking jump you’d better say how high.” We’ve hung out enough that she knows I’m strong and won’t let anyone trample over me. I won’t take any shit. “I’m out.” She turns and faces me, eyes serious. “I’ll call you as soon as I hear something.” I nod and she breezes past, leaving me in a room full of slack-jawed women.

  I square my shoulders, hold my head high, and turn to the girls standing before me. “Everyone good?” A few snickers come across but no one talks and all eyes are on me. “All right. When I’m not dancing, I’ll be dressed and monitoring the floor. No shit.” I think about my bag and hope I brought clothes that I can change into to wear on the floor.

  “Like you’ll do anything about it.” Luna, the blonde with huge tits and an obvious chip on her shoulder, grumbles under her breath. My eyes snap to her. This is the moment. I didn’t think it would happen this fast, but it’s here nonetheless. I need to show them I mean business. If I let it ride and don’t squash this shit now, they’ll never perceive me as someone they have to listen to. I’ll be damned if Princess comes to work and there’s a fucking shit storm because these women have a problem with me.