| |
I stood at the door to the Throne Room, my arms crossed. The damn thing automatically locked, but our Prez liked the appearance of security when there was a crowd at Royal Road. And there was a huge mob tonight. There was almost nothing I despised more than a packed clubhouse. It spelled trouble. And trouble would be my problem. I didn’t want to be here, and Kingpin, our President didn’t want me here either. Even if I was his Enforcer, I wasn’t his first choice for the job. However, Goliath had been strangely unavailable lately.
At least I enjoyed the show that attracted such a horde. That was until a biker blocked my view. He chewed on a toothpick as always.
“Leviathan, glad you’re back,” Opry said, tipping his cowboy hat.
He wasn’t my boss, but he managed the business side of Royal Road. And I’d been back for a while now, but I didn’t count on him to notice. He’d been busy dicking some young new stripper. He went through them like water.
“I see you like the new dancer I hired.”
I waited for it. The cowboy winked. The man was predictable.
“What makes you say that?” I asked as I moved to see past him, to see her.
“You can’t seem to take your eyes off her,” he said, joining me against the door.
We watched her together.
He was right. My gaze hadn’t left Maren since she took the stage. She’d caught my eye the first night she performed.
Amongst the sleaze Royal Road offered we had a few decent acts. Our live music counted as one. Maren’s act proved to be another showstopper. The blonde adorned our stage in a shimmering dress that barely covered her smoking body. That was nothing new around the club, women with hot bods.
Maren’s attire wasn’t just provocative, it was theatrical. She wore her platinum hair up, embellished with a crown and jewels. Rhinestones covered her body in strategic places, highlighting her shoulders, her wrists, her navel. And she didn’t just twerk and pretend to fuck the pole.
Opry had gone all out, hanging a swing for her. Stretching her silky leg to the sky, she embraced the rope with her foot, twirling it around her ankle. Like magic, she threaded her body through the hoop, flipping around it like a fish out of water. Seductively, she hung from it, weaving herself into beautiful incredible postures. And just when you couldn’t believe your eyes, she’d remove her top and floor you with the best set of tits I’d ever had the privilege to see.
Fuck, yeah.
When she did so, her fingers hesitated on her neck before trailing the curves of her bosom. With anguish, she displayed her body. Tormented, she became vulnerable where the other women here became sluts. The dancer didn’t go any further, taking anything else off. However, the show took an intense, suggestive turn. Her movements more exaggerated, her features turned to pure sex. The woman’s body morphed into a piece of erotic art.
Maren changed up her finale like she did her costume. Then her act would take a lighter turn. She’d start into a belly dance to close out the show. Once she lit a torch aflame with her toes, wrenched it up to her mouth and swallowed it. There was always something new. The babe kept us all on the edge of our seats.
Tonight, she danced with sharp swords, somehow engulfing them too. You could hear a pin drop. The long metal disappearing in her throat made me hold my breath until she heaved it out. And I could hold my breath for an exceptionally long time.
When I could breathe again, I exhaled, “Fuck, yeah, Opry. Who doesn’t like this shit.”
The other bikers were mesmerized, too. We all had to be imagining what we could do to a girl who could move like that. I knew I was. We all wanted her to swallow our swords. The crowd here loved it as well. Applause boomed as she headed off stage to the dressing room.
I’d heard the whores were all jealous that Opry hired someone with true talent to dance for once. The lights changed with the music. When the strippers came out and started to take it all off, no one was too impressed anymore. The drinking, the chatter and the sound of the slot machines resumed.
“Just checking,” Opry explained, like our deep concentration on the girl’s show hadn’t interrupted our conversation. “Didn’t want to make a move on Maren if you were going for it.”
Going for it? “Isn’t she a bit too old for you? What happened to that nineteen-year-old who’s been warming your bed?” The girl practically lived with him.
“Leo? She’s a handful. A PITA.”
“Speak English, brother.”
“Exactly. That means she’s a pain in the ass. I like them young, but the language has changed. I can barely understand her sometimes.”
“What are you doing talking to her?”
“Some of us need more than pussy, Levi. That Maren seems like she’d be real interesting in the hay and otherwise.”
“Need a girl to entertain you, Opry? Man, you are getting old.”
He sniffed. “Your hair would be gray if you didn’t shave it all off.”
Just then his girl, Leo stepped onto the stage. She didn’t need to strip. In five-inch pink stilettos, she was already naked but had sprayed on a whipped cream bikini. It’d either melt off and fall off as she slid up and down the pole. The whores were doing anything they could to compete with Maren’s show, but Leo was the more ridiculous of the bunch.
“She seems pretty entertaining, brother,” I told him, watching her slip on the cream and fall on her ass.
Opry made a face, and I could tell he’d grown tired of her.
“About Maren?” he asked.
“What about her?”
I’d been watching her, but not just her act. I recognized her, had seen her somewhere before. But I couldn’t place her. Opry said she was from the area, so it was possible. I didn’t usually forget a beautiful woman. However, there was something more. She didn’t seem like she belonged at Royal Road.
“Are you going to do something about it? Paisley says the girl’s been asking about you,” he admitted.
“She has?” I asked quickly, giving my interest away, something I didn’t intend to do.
“Yep. Asking how you are in bed and shit like that. They’ve been talking about that monster in your pants.”
“Paisley wouldn’t know.”
“I know you’ve made your way through the sweetbutts. I’ve not seen Maren with anyone else. Memphis isn’t exactly keeping them in line.”
“You expect Maren to whore herself out?”
“She’s on the payroll, ain’t she?”
“Maren’s different. She’s like Eve.” I spoke of another talented performer at Royal Road, a singer, someone I didn’t care for on account of her ties to our rival club. “Eve’s not expected to be available.”
“Don’t be so sure. Eve was taken. But she’s not Hallow’s girl anymore. Up for the taking now.”
“You don’t be so sure,” I warned him.
The whores all thought they knew what happened at Royal Road, but they didn’t know the half of it. Prez had nothing but trouble with his new wife because she thought he had something going on with Eve. I wasn’t entirely sure the biker didn’t want the songstress. Man had taken an unusual liking to her, taking her under his wing. He sure as fuck wouldn’t have saved her life from my wrath for her to be Hallow’s woman.
Speaking of the devil, I saw Hallow the next night. I was free of Kingpin, so I went to go find Maren before she took the stage. Before Opry got to her. It was time I introduced myself.
Cracking open the door, I couldn’t believe what I saw.
