Cherri stood in the hallway for a long time trying to grasp the enormity of the situation. She knew without stripping, her wages had been cut in half. That bastard! He’s getting back at me because I don’t want to fuck him. How could he punish me by cutting my earnings? Now I’ll never get out of this shitty life. I have to find another way to get money to make up for my lost wages.
Knowing Emma depended on her to make sure everything was on schedule, she put her anger aside until later then entered the dressing area.
Chapter Four
Cherri stomped her feet to get the feeling back into them. She breathed in the chilly air—it crackled as it slid down her lungs. It was cold out, especially since she stormed outside without her jacket. She was so fucking pissed, the night’s frigid air felt good as it cooled her down. How could he take away her dancing, her livelihood? Men were such treacherous assholes. They acted like they cared, then when they sucked a woman in, they reverted to their true selves. She let her guard down with Jax—she was beginning to relax a bit around him. The gentleness of his kisses, the way he looked at her, and the way he tucked her hair behind her ears made her fall prey to his deception. She stupidly thought he cared, so she let go of her distrust a bit, but then Jax did this shit to her. His true nature shone through. What a bastard.
“You coming in?” Holt asked. “Fuck, it’s cold out here.” He lit a cigarette.
“I just needed some air, you know?” Cherri said. “I’ll see you inside.” Holt jerked his chin at her.
When she entered the backroom, the blast of heat hit Cherri like a wall. Dancers ran all around: hopping on one leg while putting their heels on, dusting glitter over their bodies, and adjusting their costumes. It was like an off-kilter circus.
“Cherri, my fuckin’ boob keeps hanging out ’cause this strap isn’t staying up,” Liza, one of the dancers, complained.
Motioning her to come over, Cherri took out the needle and thread and tightened up the strap. Liza stuffed her breast in the top, smiled at Cherri, and said, “Thanks. If you weren’t here, I wouldn’t know what to do.”
“No worries, that’s why I’m here.” Cherri couldn’t believe how helpless these dancers were. She rushed around, making sure the line-up was complete. As she came back from the DJ booth, she spied Jax leaning against the bar, his arms crossed, looking at her. Chas was next to him, slugging a beer and talking to him. Jax tilted his chin at her while he threw her one of his smiles. Fuming, she wasn’t in the mood for his boyish charms. Turning her back to him, she jumped up on the stool at the far end of the bar and looked over the inventory list.
She was so absorbed in her task she didn’t hear Jax’s black leather boots click on the floor as he approached her. She smelled his earthy pine scent before she saw him—his fragrance was enticing, calming, and deceptive. She quickly reminded herself this guy with the sexy scent was the one who set back her get-the-hell-out-of-here plan.
“Whatcha doin’, sweetness?” Heated air tickled her ear as his hand caressed her back.
Stiffening, Cherri said, “Working.”
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Nothing, just busy.”
“Why’re you being so cool, sweetheart?”
Glancing at him sideways, her blue eyes glinted with anger. “Why did you take dancing away from me?”
Jax blinked several times as if he were trying to put his mind around the shift in the conversation. After a long pause, he shrugged, saying, “I don’t want men looking at you naked.”
“What the fuck does that mean? I’m a stripper. I need the money. What are you, some possessive, macho asshole?”
Jax bristled. “Watch your mouth, sugar.” Grasping her shoulder, he turned her so she faced him. “You don’t need to worry about money, I’ll help you out. I don’t want any guys jerking off to my sweetness dancing. Not anymore.”
“I’m not your sweetness, your sugar, or your baby girl—I’m not anything to you. I’m just another dancer trying to make a living in this shitty place.” Her blue eyes glistened.
“Oh, you’re something to me, sweet one—you just don’t realize it yet. I have plans for us, and the fucking will be sweet like you.”
“So, you did all this just to fuck me?”
“I don’t need the brothers seeing your naked ass anymore. You’re not dancing, and that’s final.”
“You asshole!”
Jax clasped Cherri by the shoulders and yanked her toward him, their faces almost touching. She could see his nostrils flaring, his eyes glinting like knives, and his mouth twisted in rage as his hands held her tight, his muscular arms bulging. She knew he was trying to control himself. Instead of backing down, she glowered at him, insolence in her eyes. “Let me go. Now.”
“You’re a hot piece of ass, sweetness, and I’m very fond of you, but you don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do. Nobody tells me what to do. You’re not in charge; I am. You better learn that, or I can make your life miserable. Do you understand that, baby girl?” He gritted his teeth, tightening his grip even more.
Throwing her head back, Cherri laughed dryly. “Do you think I give a shit? My life is already miserable as hell. I don’t give a damn what you do. You’ve taken away my dancing and any chances of earning decent money, so fuck, go ahead and make my life miserable, if that’s what gets you off.”
“Don’t tempt me. You’ve got a mouth on you that needs to know when to shut the fuck up.” He glared at her.
Cherri knew she was pushing him too far; this scary biker was pissed way off. She didn’t want him to see she was scared, nor did she want him to think she was weak. He thought all he had to do was puff out his chest and she’d acquiesce with the “yes, Master” shit all these bikers wanted from the women around them. Fuck, she’d had it worse back home. She didn’t have time for this.
“You get what I’m saying, sweet one?” Jax’s voice was a tad softer.
Cherri pushed against his chest. Not expecting it, he stumbled and released her arms. She stormed away, turned her head around, and said, “Stay the fuck away from me. Now, you got that, macho man?”
She stepped up her pace and scooted behind the black curtain. Her pulse raced as she waited for Jax to come barreling through, ripping the curtain out of his way. She didn’t dare breathe. She waited. Nothing. Peeking out from behind the curtain, she saw Jax at the Insurgents table with Chas, Ruben, Banger, and a few guys she didn’t recognize. By his clenched jaw, Cherri knew Jax was mad as hell, but he left her alone. Sighing in relief, she took a breath, happy she had averted an unpleasant scene. Who the fuck does he think he is? I’ll be damned if I take orders from him, or any man, ever again.
Looking around the club from behind the curtain, Cherri saw Gunner, all by himself at a table, taking long draws from his beer. For a split second, she wondered why he wasn’t at the table with the other Insurgents.
“Cherri, we have a problem. Patty called in sick.”
“Oh, shit, I’ll have to get a replacement. Liza, you’re going on first, then go in the order on the sheet until the replacement comes in.” Cherri grabbed her cell phone and dialed numbers as the music grew louder and the whistles and hoots began. She couldn’t wait for the night to be over.
* * *
A couple of hours had passed and Cherri had everything in control. Simba came in to take Patty’s place, the place was crowded, no undue rowdiness, and all the waitresses showed up for their shifts. Things were going along just fine.
Deciding to play the good hostess, Cherri went up to each table to check how everything was. When she came to the Insurgents’ table, she saw two of the dancers, Crystal and Angel, sitting on Chas and Banger’s laps, and Peaches and Jax lip-locked and tangled in each other. Peaches ground and wiggled against Jax, his raging hard-on not difficult to miss. Cherri’s insides twisted and her eyes dampened when she looked at them. She’d never been jealous of any woman, but for an instant, she wished she were the one on Jax’s lap.
I can’t believe
I feel hurt that he’s with Peaches. I despise him. Damn body—don’t betray me. I loathe him, and I shouldn’t care he’s with this pumped-up bitch. I should be glad he has someone else to focus on, but… I’m… not. Fuck.
Peaches, boobs in Jax’s face, gazed over his head and threw Cherri a smug look, hatred glinting in her eyes. Cherri turned away and asked Banger if everything was fine. He nodded and said, “Yeah, I think we’re being taken care of real good.”
Chas and Jax laughed, agreeing with Banger. Jax held Cherri’s look for a heartbeat then, stone-faced, he yanked Peaches’ head back and kissed her deeply. Tears formed in the back of Cherri’s eyes, and she rushed off before they spilled down her face. She’d be mortified if Jax thought she was crying over him. God, no, she couldn’t let him know how her insides ached and her gut felt like it had just been sucker-punched.
After checking on most of the tables, she headed toward the one where the lone Insurgent sat. When she came up to Gunner, he looked at her with surprise and delight. He had friendly eyes, and they made her feel welcomed. As she came closer, she had a good look at the rugged biker. She had never seen him full-on, only in the shadows surrounding him at his favorite corner table in the back.
He wasn’t a bad-looking man. Cherri guessed him to be around forty years old. He had a full head of shoulder-length brown hair pulled back in a ponytail; single strands of white wove through it. His rough face had some lines from too much riding in the sun, and a large scar from his left temple down past his ear marked his face. He had a neatly trimmed brown beard, and his dark eyes twinkled as they gazed at Cherri. Each arm held two full sleeves of colorful work, and a tattoo of a gun peeked out from the top of the black Metallica t-shirt he wore under his aged cut.
Cherri guessed him to be about six-feet, and his shoulders were broad like a football player’s. Gunner didn’t suffer from a soft belly like several of the older Insurgents members: pure muscle molded his body without one ounce of fat on him. Intrigued by him, she wanted to know his backstory. To Cherri, he seemed like a contradiction—he appeared to be a loner, yet was in an outlaw MC.
“Hello, are you enjoying yourself? Is there anything I can get you?” she asked the biker.
“I’m all right, just happy you came by. Will you sit?” His voice was deep and tinged with a rasp that came from smoking too much.
“I’d love to. I’m Cherri,” she said as she sat down.
“I know—I’ve had my eye on you since you first hit the stage. I’m Gunner.”
“You’re an Insurgent, right?”
“Yep.”
“I see your vest, but wasn’t a hundred percent sure, since you aren’t with the others at their table.”
“Yeah, been an Insurgent for ’bout twenty-four years. I don’t sit with the young guys—I prefer to be alone or with the older brothers. Banger’ll join me after he’s done with his whore.”
“You don’t have a woman? I always see you alone.”
“I have pussy like all the guys, but an ol’ lady, nope. Done that… twice. I got sick of ’em and threw ’em both out. My first ol’ lady liked fuckin’ all the brothers too much, and the second one was just a pain in the ass. No, darlin’, I like comin’ here alone and watchin’ you dance.”
Cherri, scooting her chair closer to his, said, “I notice you watching me all the time. When I dance, I dance for you.”
“Really? It looks like you’re dancing for Jax. I can see that, though; he’s young, and he’s got all the bitches hot for him.”
“I’m not hot for him.”
Gunner looked at Cherri, a big smile breaking out over his face, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “I’ll tell ya somethin’, darlin’. You’ve caught my eye, and I can’t get enough of you. The way you dance and shake your ass, well, that’s the sexiest thing I’ve seen in a long while.”
Cherri tilted her head back and laughed, reaching out and lightly touching Gunner’s forearm. “Now, aren’t you sweet?” She licked her lips with her tongue as she glanced up at him with a doe-eyed look.
Gunner leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “I’d like to get to know you a whole lot better.”
Coyly, she said, “I’m sure we’ll get to know each other.”
“When are you gonna dance tonight, darlin’? You’re my favorite.”
“Never. The Insurgents won’t let me dance anymore.” She pushed out her lower lip.
A dark shadow passed over his face as his eyebrows contracted and his forehead wrinkled. “Really? Why does the MC care? I don’t remember discussing that.”
“Well, it was Jax who nixed my dancing.”
“That’s stupid. What did he do that for?”
Cherri shrugged.
“I need to talk with that asshole. You not being able to dance is stupid as fuck!”
“And a hardship, because I made a ton of money in tips.”
“Yeah, I bet you did, darlin’; you’re a lot of the guys’ favorite. What about a lap dance? Would you do a lap dance for me?”
Cherri’s eyes lit up. “Sure, why not? I was told I couldn’t dance on stage. I’ll give you a good lap dance. I’ll treat you right.” She placed her hand over his, rubbing it.
“Hey, buddy, how’s it going?”
Spinning around, Cherri saw Jax pull out the chair next to her. He sat down and started talking with Gunner about motorcycles. Cherri stared at him, but Jax, acting as though she wasn’t at the table, continued to talk with Gunner, laughing too loud at things Gunner said that weren’t all that funny. You want to play games with me, Jax? Go on—I’m a great player. I’ve had a lot of practice, especially with men. Bring it on, asshole.
With sparkling eyes, she leaned close to Gunner, her hand on his shoulder, and said, “I gotta get back to work. Come find me later.” She felt Jax’s glare on her. Ignoring him, she stood up from the table and walked away.
Standing against the bar, Cherri watched as Peaches took the stage. She turned toward Gunner’s table and saw Jax was still with him, talking his ear off. The whole time she had been at Dream House, she had never seen Jax speak with Gunner, yet the jerk acted like he was Gunner’s best friend. She hoped he wasn’t telling Gunner shit about her, trying to scare him off, although Gunner didn’t look like he intimidated easily.
Glancing back at the stage, she noticed Peaches looked at Jax, but he had his back to her as he spoke with Gunner. Cherri couldn’t help the surge of satisfaction rising in her. Whenever she danced, Jax couldn’t keep his eyes off her. A deep ache pulsed through her as she thought about her stripping and Jax’s lust-filled eyes watching her. When she danced, she’d catch his eye, and they would be connected through the music, the dance, and their desire. She yearned for that connection right then, but he took it away from her.
On the stage, a frowning Peaches stared at Jax’s back. Cherri was glad Jax couldn’t care less that Peaches was working extra hard to shake her ass and boobs—he just kept talking to Gunner.
Serves you right bitch.
A couple of hours later, while busy moving boxes of supplies to the storage area, Emma came over to Cherri. “Gunner’s waiting for his lap dance in the red room. How did that come about?”
“I got talking to him and he asked when I was gonna dance. I told him the deal, and he said he wanted a lap dance. He seems like a nice guy, by the way.”
“Really? I don’t know him too well. He hangs with the older bikers. He always seems gruff to me.” Emma shrugged.
“I think he’s probably a big teddy bear.”
“I don’t think I’d describe him like that, but whatever.”
“I gotta change. Tell him I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Cherri raced to her dressing room and pulled out different outfits from her closet. Finally settling on a skimpy leopard print skirt with a pink thong, along with a black lace and leopard print push-up top, she hurriedly dressed. The guys loved this outfit because it always made her boobs look bigger than they were. Stiletto black pumps completed the ensem
ble.
Throwing on a cover-up, she headed toward the red room where Gunner waited. She glanced into the bar area and saw Peaches and Jax practically doing it. It was late and most of the patrons had gone, leaving a few guys and several Insurgents inside the club. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she walked to the lap dance rooms.
Cherri closed the door behind her when she entered the red room. It was swathed in variations of old-west saloon reds: deep red velvet walls with mirrors, a plush Persian carpet on the dark wood floors, an over-sized wraparound maroon leather couch hugging the walls. Erotic art dotted the mirrors while the shimmering light from two floor lamps draped in rosy chiffon lent a sultry ambience to the space.
Gunner, reclining on the couch with his arms resting on the top of it, smiled, his eyes smoldered with heat. “Don’t you look delicious, darlin’. Come on over and make me feel good.”
Cherri held his blazing look and swayed her hips as she neared him. “Do you have a couple of favorite songs you’d like me to dance to?” She placed her hands on his jean-covered knees and bent over, her face close to his.
Swallowing hard, he nodded. “ ‘Pour Some Sugar On Me’ by Def Leppard and ‘Cherry Pie’ by Warrant are good.”
“Nice choices.” Cherri walked over to an elaborately carved wood cabinet, opened the doors, and pressed some buttons. Wiggling her shoulders and tossing her hair back, she said, “The rules are no touching. I can touch you, but you can’t touch me. Got it?”
Gunner nodded while he sucked in his breath.
She came back over to him and waited for the music to start. On the first beat, Cherri moved her hip to one side, then another. She strutted around, ran her fingers through her hair then down her neck, her chest, then to her hips and around her butt. Tossing her hair, she looked at herself in the mirror behind the couch, then shifted her gaze to Gunner as she drew his eyes to hers. Gunner stared at her, transfixed; lust filled his black eyes as her head slowly fell forward then rolled back up, her hair draping around her like a shroud. Keeping her hands in contact with her body, she let them ride up her sides and back toward the nape of her neck.
Jax's Dilemma:Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 2) Page 4
