CHAPTER FIVE — DAVID
The tattooed man outside the bar nods at me.
"Haven't seen you around here in a while," he says, his voice somehow even gruffer than I remember.
I nod at him.
"It's been a while."
He looks at Stephanie.
"Who's—"
"Long story," I say.
He nods and tilts his head. I quickly nod once more before placing my hand on Stephanie's waist. I step forward, guiding her inside.
I decided to bring her to the local biker bar. I ran with this crowd around 20 years ago. I've been out of the scene for a while. Once I got into the corporate world, I left it behind me.
I still kept in touch with some of the guys I was closer with, but generally, I've tried to keep a low profile, which means not associating with known criminals.
But one of the great things about being a part of a group like this—and let's be honest, you have to hold on to the good things, because there sure as hell are more than enough bad things to cling to—is that no matter how long it's been, you're always welcomed back.
Unless, of course, you're a snake. Which I never was. Loyalty has always been the biggest thing to me. I would never turn on a friend.
Sometimes you have to move on in life, though, and that's why I left. Still, these men are my brothers, and they always will be. I know they won't bat an eye at me bringing a much younger woman. Or a woman dressed like a prostitute. They don't care. Many of them have done the same.
At the same time, I know they'll be respectful towards Stephanie as long as I'm with her. I mean, they'll check her out, obviously. But they won't be overtly disrespectful. They'll ogle her. She may get a comment or two, but she won't get harassed.
In fact, I'm hoping they'll make her feel a little uncomfortable. I want her to crack. I want her to admit to the little ruse she's been playing.
And the only way to get her to do that is to make her feel uncomfortable enough that she gives up the charade.
Of course, I would never put her in harm's way or put her safety at risk.
But if she gets a rude comment or two, or feels a little bit embarrassed, that might be just what she needs. I want to see her humbled.
At the same time, there's a weird part of me that's almost rooting for her, because I can identify with her stubborn streak.
But conversely, it just makes me want to break her that much more.
She's making me feel things I haven't felt in years, or maybe ever, to be honest. Sure, she's annoying, but the desire I feel for her, and just how badly I want to put her in her place, is coming from a deeper place. A primal one, almost.
Every time I look at her now, I can't get the images out of my head: her over my lap, her lithe body bent over the kitchen counter, her sassy mouth and lips wrapped around my cock.
I'm fantasizing about making her give in to me. Making her admit defeat.
I realize now I've been repressing these thoughts for a while. It's like the gates to the dam have opened now, and I can't stop them from rushing in.
In addition to wanting to teach her a lesson, I'm a bit worried about her.
She's reckless. I want her to feel the weight of her decisions.
To learn to be more prudent. If she continues going through the world like this, and continues using her looks as currency, she'll get burned at some point.
And the consequences for her getting burned are much higher than they would be for me, or for any man, in general.
One day, she's going to come across a guy who won't give a shit about consent or boundaries. A guy who will get angry at her teasing… who will take what he wants and hurt her in the process. And revel in it.
She's playing a dangerous game.
And the scariest part is, I don't know if she fully knows that.
She knows she's playing a game, but I don't think she knows just how dangerous it is.
Not to say that it would ever be her fault if something bad happened. I'm concerned, though, that she's gonna put herself in dangerous situations. She needs to know what the real world is like, and that there are consequences for her using her sexuality as a bargaining chip.