Chapter Three
DANGER
It’s been three months since starting on my trip of a lifetime.
When I arrived in Australia, the first thing I did was change my image.
I am known for my dark curls, but I wanted something different.
I needed something edgier. So I had the sides shaved short, and the top remained longer, slicked back into a wave.
Add a leather jacket, and I’m hardcore rocker material—the new me.
I’ve traveled all over Australia, doing the touristy thing.
I started in Sydney, then Melbourne, and now, I’m in Adelaide, trying to get my head into a better space and my body working again.
So far, though, I find myself visiting bars and strip clubs.
I aim to visit all the best strip clubs in Australia, forcing myself back into the swing of things.
My attempt at burying my cock in foreign pussy has failed.
For some reason, my cock isn’t working.
I can’t seem to bring myself to follow through, or if I get close, I can’t get it up.
That’s why I’m positive looking at naked women will help my cock rise to the occasion again.
But so far, no luck.
It’s December, and I’m not used to it being so damn hot around Christmas, but I am finding it refreshing to be somewhere entirely different from the UK and America.
Today is a bad day, though. I heard through the grapevine that Ella and Chad are engaged, and I’m having trouble dealing with that little fucking tidbit of information.
So tonight, like most nights, I’ve been drinking heavily, going from club to club.
There’s still no action in the cock department, and I seriously think my dick’s broken.
So much so that he needs an Out of Order sign.
Maybe I should get that tattooed on my shaft as a reminder that Ella has effectively broken my cock, and now I’m going to be a celibate shell of an ass for the rest of my miserable goddamned existence.
I think this is it.
I have finally hit it.
Rock-fucking-bottom.
So with my ex now officially engaged to another man and my cock missing in action, the cab driver has brought me to the best strip club this side of Adelaide, apparently—or so he said. When I stumble out of the cab, I throw a fifty at him, and he smirks, driving off.
The large double doors look heavy, and I’m not sure I can handle them in my current inebriated state, but I give it a go and stumble through the entrance and into the dimly lit nightclub. There are three stages to my right and a bunch of booths to my left with a bar up the back.
Hiccup.
“I’m Just Thinking With My Dick” by Kevin Gates and Juicy J plays through the speakers, with its high-pitched sounds and hypnotic thumping beat.
As I look around, I notice from the corner of my eye one woman up on the stage and turn to face her while she swings around the pole.
Her two-toned pink hair, fading to yellow, catches my attention when it flares out perfectly.
She has me stopping in my tracks, standing taller as I watch.
This beauty continues her mesmerizing dance, moving in time with the music, then stands, revealing a pink bra and panty set that adorn her petite frame with curves that won’t quit.
They make me want to grab her hips and thrust into her from behind.
The very thought has my cock twitching, and I look down at my jeans, seeing a slight tenting in the denim.
I look back up at the goddess with her cute little button nose highlighting her perfect doe eyes.
From where I stand, I can’t make out the color.
It’s too dark, but her eyes are big, and her lashes go on for days.
Her pouty, smirking lips force me to take in a deep breath when she looks out into the crowd, and I imagine them wrapped around my cock, sucking like a pro.
Then a miracle—my cock completely stiffens.
No half-mast—a full fucking boner.
After being certain my cock was permanently broken, I’m sure I hear the “Hallelujah Chorus” playing loudly in my ears.
My eyes open wide as I run my hand over my pants just to make sure—and we have lift off.
I laugh, watching this temptress in front of me.
Tattoos trail up her side—stars—from her panties up to her armpit on her left.
Fuck me, if that’s not the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.
While my cock throbs in my pants, I lick my lips, taking her in completely. She’s not your typical stripper. There is a level of sophistication behind her. I’m sure she doesn’t belong on stage, more like on the pages of a magazine. She’s stunning and, despite her job, not in a promiscuous way.
This girl’s seriously doing overtime on my libido right now. My cock is throbbing so hard I can barely stand it. I can’t help but get excited that someone has finally broken my curse. A woman has brought me back to life. And not just any woman, this pink and yellow-haired goddess on stage.
I stumble up to her and whistle in excitement at her being my savior.
She deserves to be rewarded for fixing me, so I throw some money at her feet, noticing the sky-high sexy heels she is wearing.
The way her long, toned, tanned legs lead up to her magnificent body has my heart beating faster.
As I gaze up at her perfect features, she looks down, and our eyes connect.
Something surges through my body and smacks me right in the chest.
That’s when I notice her eyes are a brilliant blue, and when she smiles, warmth floods right through my body. It shakes me to the core when she laughs while bending down and picking up the cash I’ve thrown on stage.
She has to be the most beautiful woman in all of Australia.
I know I’m wasted, but I’ve never seen so clearly through beer goggles.
“You’re beautiful,” I call out, my inebriated mind obviously lacking any self-control.
She giggles, spinning around, then bends down, grinding her ass into my face in such a sexual way that my cock hardens even more.
I can’t fight the grin that forms on my lips—a sudden increase in temperature flows through me, along with energy, endorphins, and complete and utter drunkenness, causing my head to spin, and I fall flat on my back.
I don’t even care that I’m on the floor because that amazing woman touched me and has given me back my manhood.
Out of nowhere, a burly man with a short brown beard appears over me, offering a hand. “Dude, grab my hand.”
My eyes roll around in my head before I focus on the guy, and he pulls me up. I stumble slightly, but he allows me to lean against him for support.
“You okay, mate?” His all-Australian twang makes me want to chuckle.
“Think I’m fucking hammered.” I hiccup, then belch obnoxiously.
“Coffee, Vin. Black and strong,” the guy calls out to someone apparently called Vin. I’m not paying much attention while he directs me to a booth. “You look familiar. Do I know you?”
Throwing my hands in the air, I laugh through my drunken stupor. “I’m a rock star. Or I was when I played on tour with Staked and 12GAUGE-Slayed.”
The guy opens his eyes wide, just like they all do when I mention the greatest bands in the history of rock bands. “You played with Colter fuckin’ Slade?”
“Yeah, yeah, Colter fucking Slade.” A sudden pain slams into my chest, and I grimace, clutching at my pec, an ache forming at the mere thought of Ella and her damn father. I fall into the seat, clenching my eyes while my breathing becomes erratic and harsh.
And just like that, my dick falls limp again.
“Fuck! You all right?”
“That bitch broke my fucking heart!” I yell at the top of my lungs.
“Girl troubles, hey?” the random guy in the strip club asks.
My head bobs up and down as I open my eyes and try to focus on the guy who’s now sitting in the booth across from me.
“I love her, man. Fucking love her. I gave up my life for her. Moved to England. Even wanted to marry her.” He nods.
“I was a player. A downright fucking bastard to women, and she changed me. She fucking changed me. Then… she broke me.” My voice lowers with each sentence, the heartache bleeding out while I rest my head in my hands, trying my hardest to keep my shit together.
“Maybe you’re better off?”
My head flies up, and I glare. “Better off? Better off! I’m in Australia with no band, a fucking broken heart, and I lost her to that fuckwit, Chad Everly!”
“Well, if you want my advice—”
I sit up taller. “Yes! Help me!”
He smirks. “You need to let her go, mate. Get back on the horse. You’re American by the accent. Aussie chicks’ll dig that. Get balls deep in some Aussie pussy and forget all about… what’s her name?”
“Ella…” My chest tightens.
“Forget all about Ella. And as for your band… what’s it called? What happened to it?”
“Maybe you’re right. The band’s name was Recoil, and they’re broken because I got too caught up over Ella. I fucked the band. It’s all on me…” I pause before continuing, “The name’s Danger, by the way.”
His mouth drops open. “Well, shit, dude. I do know you. I’ve heard a couple of your songs on the alternative stations. You guys are fuckin’ good. Why don’t you get your bandmates to come down under? You can gig in our clubs?”
Raising my eyebrows, I wonder what that means. “Our clubs?”
“Yeah, our clubs. The name’s Steel. VP of the Satan’s Savages MC. We have patched members who own a few clubs and bars around town, and we can get you guys playin’ in them if you want?”
Nodding, I take in a deep breath. “Well, shit… I don’t know what to say.”
He smiles and nods. “Talk it over with your bandmates. If they wanna come down under for a while, here’s my card.
We can hook you guys up to play the club scene.
Maybe get you goin’ interstate and playin’ at our other clubs.
Techie is in tune with the music business, and he might know a few people in the Australian music industry. I’m sure he can help.”
Running my fingers through my hair, I shake my head slowly. “Fuck! You’re like a biker guardian angel.”