Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
JD
Eighteen months ago
The door to the clubhouse opened, and a blast of frigid winter air blew through the room a moment before a group of club women walked in. All of them looked great and probably smelled even better. From their short skirts meant to tantalize, to the low-cut blouses giving all the brothers more than an eyeful, they drew the attention of everyone in the room. But it was her blonde hair and pale skin that I noticed first, because I always did.
Fuck she was beautiful.
Sasha. Even the way her name rolled around on my tongue and in my mind gave me ideas. Ideas that had no business in my head.
It wasn’t as if I hadn’t seen her before. And every inch of her for that matter. She’d been stripping at the club for a while now. While I’d been too busy to go down there lately, I had a memory for every detail and her details were straight up perfection.
Especially those fucking curves.
I wasn’t into skinny women, and Sasha’s body was pure perfection. Who cared if that sounded like a cliche, it was true and that was all that mattered. I was a big damned man, who liked to fuck hard, and the last thing I wanted to worry about was breaking someone.
I watched her cross the room, her long legs on full gorgeous display under one of the tiniest skirts I’d ever seen. She took a seat at the table where the other women had gathered. While many of the women who hung around or worked here, liked to pair up with a biker, not all did.
Some just enjoyed the party.
“Fuck, she’s hot,” Axel rumbled next to me. “It’s no wonder she’s our most popular dancer. That girl is special and making us rich.”
I didn’t have to ask who he meant. We all knew. Every man at the table had their eyes on her and I was about to lose my shit over it. Of course I was about five sheets to the wind, because I’d hit three a long time ago and kept drinking.
“I wonder if she’ll ride my dick tonight?” Cash mused, his words drunkenly slurred. I immediately wanted to fucking lay him out for talking about her that way. A woman like her did not need any of his filthy shit.
Zook snorted. “Ain’t no one touching your drunk ass dick tonight, dude. Hell, you probably can’t even get it up.”
“Oh yeah?” Cash sneered. “You volunteering to check it for me? Cause I can tell you right now, it’s more than a chub already from looking at the likes of her.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I growled, clenching my fists on the table to control my actions. I was the last person to start a fight, considering it was my job to end them.
When every man turned in my direction, I realized my mistake. Why should I care if they wanted to sit around talking trash? The women here knew the deal. If you didn’t want to be ogled, talked about, or approached then you had no business in our clubhouse. Simple as that.
I wasn’t a fucking HR department.
“You looking to make a move, boss?” Zook asked, as all eyes looked at me waiting for an answer.
“You heard what Axel said, she’s making us rich. I’m not letting any of you yahoos fuck that up just to get laid. Unless she invites your ass, find someone else. And even if she does, you’d better be fucking careful. She seems like the type to catch feelings and the minute one of y’all breaks her heart and she quits, I’m beating your ass and busting you back to prospect.”
A low whistle sounded from Axel when I sat back against the chair. My muscles were tight and my heart pounded hard. But I’d said what I’d said and meant every word of it. Even if in hindsight I might have wanted to keep most of that to myself.
The silence my outburst had caused stretched across the room as the tension seethed just beneath the surface. I’d pretty much killed the party vibe over nothing—she wasn’t an old lady, and I had no right to interfere in her personal life or theirs.
“You all heard him. Now somebody get us some more beer before I lose this buzz.”
The room burst into laughter and just like that Axel got the party back where it belonged. I desperately needed to take a beat, or go back to drinking. The solution to the world’s problems might not lie at the bottom of that damned bottle, but it sure as fuck made them easier to ignore.
I leaned against the back of the couch and spread my legs out in front of me, shoving my hands through my hair, noticing again that I needed a haircut.
“I could cut that for you.” A soft voice from the side of the couch sounded in my ear and I closed my eyes to let the melody of it soothe my soul like a much needed balm.
“You cut hair and strip?” I cringed at my words the second they left my mouth. Fuck. I turned my head to see the frown on Sasha’s face and the red flush of hurt crawling up her neck. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that like it sounded.”
“Sure you did.” She smirked. “You are not the kind of man who says things he doesn’t mean. Although for someone who owns a strip club, you have a limited understanding of the talent that goes into what I do. It’s not just as simple as jumping on the stage and removing my clothes. It’s as much about the preparation as it is the act.”
In theory I knew that, otherwise all the girls would be equally popular. I’d heard our club manager talk about what goes into the girls’ routines and what makes one dancer better than the other. But if I was being honest, I still didn’t think much beyond it being a strip club that made us buckets of money. Watching women strip for cash wasn’t my thing.
Fortunately, I had just enough alcohol-soaked brain cells left not to say all of that out loud. My mouth didn’t need to make things worse. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“That’s fair enough then,” she said, stepping closer. She lifted her hand and stopped just before she touched me. “May I?” I blinked, surprised at the request. It wasn’t often someone asked if they could touch me. My brain warned me to say no, but it wasn’t fast enough to stop me.
“Sure,” my mouth blurted.
A slight smile crossed her face a moment before her fingertips gently moved through my hair. My breath caught at her soft touch as she lifted and examined the strands. Not to mention the sweet scent of vanilla coming off her smooth skin.
“Yeah, I can definitely cut this for you. I’m not formally trained or anything, but I taught myself how to cut my own hair ages ago, and I’ve helped many of the other dancers out in a pinch. You don’t have to worry about me butchering it.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll get to the barber eventually.” My brain was still telling me to make her stop, but no other part of me was listening. It had been a long time since anyone had touched me other than to get me off. And even that had been too long.
“I really don’t mind. It will save you time and money.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I didn’t need to worry about saving money. The earnest look on her face was too damned sweet, and I had a feeling that saying no would hurt her. “I’ve got my scissors in my bag. I can do it now. It won’t take long, I promise.”
“You keep scissors in your purse?”
She laughed. “I keep everything in my purse. In my line of work, I need to be prepared for anything. Whether it’s a wardrobe malfunction or a hair emergency, I have learned it’s necessary to keep a lot of supplies on hand.”
“Smart, girl.” Her hand in my hair stilled for a moment and I could have sworn her breath hitched. Those two simple words had meant something to her.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice so low I barely heard it, but I felt it across my skin like a gentle warm breeze. I froze, unable to think beyond the sensation of her sweetness washing over me. I blinked against the feeling. What the hell was wrong with me? Clearly it was time to stop drinking.
“You really want to do it now? Wouldn’t you rather stay at the party? Have some fun?”
A gentle laugh rolled through her. “I’m not much of a drinker. I came more for the company.”
My eyebrows raised at that. “Well, don’t worry about drinking. I’ve done more than my fair share tonight, so you’re good. I’m not sure what kind of company I’ll make tonight, though.” I hesitated, hoping that if I just stopped talking my loose tongue would control itself.
“Where do you want to do it? Your room?”
My brain numbed at the thought of taking this beautiful creature to my room and the things I could do to her there. In fact, the idea of her sprawled on my bed with her legs wrapped around my head had just imprinted on my brain. But doing anything with her in my room was the worst idea possible. I should walk away now and get as far away from her as I could.
She was too sweet. Too young. Too everything for me.
“We’ll go to the kitchen,” I said far too gruffly as evidenced when her face fell, although to her credit she covered it quickly. I didn’t intend to offend her or come across ungrateful, but my dick wanted to be in charge tonight and I was going to have to fight it a lot harder than usual. With that in mind, it was better not to get too friendly so she didn’t get the wrong idea.
As much as I was attracted to her, and as good as the idea of burying myself in her pussy sounded, it wasn’t going to happen. There were boundaries I said I wouldn’t cross, and getting involved with someone as good as her was one of them.
“Okay. Let me get my bag.”
I nodded, and she hauled ass back to her table, whispered something to one of the girls, and then grabbed her bag.
I dragged myself off of the couch, knowing this was somehow going to be a mistake no matter how much I intended to keep this simple. The first time I’d laid eyes on Sasha, I’d felt a pull in my gut that I took as a solid warning to stay the hell away from her. And to this day nothing about that had changed.
All the women at the table turned and laid eyes on me and I inwardly groaned. I could tell by the looks in their eyes exactly what they thought was going on here, and that sent a ripple of annoyance running down my spine. Not that I normally spent any time on giving a shit about what other people thought about me. Fuck them.
I bypassed their table and headed into the industrial sized kitchen. When we’d converted this place from a lumber mill, we’d made sure to make this place a fortress that could house all of us and any of our loved ones if the need arose and that included a kitchen where large quantities of food could be made when necessary.
Mostly, it was used for club parties, but over the years we’d hunkered down here for multiple situations. Weather being the most common. But there were times when our enemies had to be taught some critical lessons, and we’d found it necessary to take extra precautions to keep everyone safe. Which reminded me that I needed to go over the new safety protocols that Tel had recently put in place. The club was damned lucky to have him on our side, and I planned to do whatever it took to keep him there.
Fuck. I brushed my fingers through my hair as the responsibilities of being Club President broke through my drunken stupor. Which prompted me to swipe another bottle of whiskey from the liquor storage cabinet before I settled into place on a stool at the massive stainless-steel island that filled half the room. I was going to get one goddamned night of solid sleep if it fucking killed me.
I’d barely settled into place when Sasha entered the kitchen with her massive purse.
“What the fuck is that?” I laughed, looking at a bag that looked half as big as her.
“What? I can’t exactly use one of those ridiculously tiny bar purses if I want to be prepared.”
I laughed too. “Maybe you shouldn’t carry around the damned kitchen sink.”
She plopped that mother fucker on the island with a loud thunk and immediately started rifling through it. I had to admit I was curious to see what all she kept in there when she produced a small, zippered pouch.
“Here we go. Scissors, combs, brushes, hair spray, gel, water bottle, you know, the basics.”
I looked at her like she was crazy. “A fucking comb is basic. The rest of that is girly shit.”
She sniffed. “Well, this girly shit is going to get your hair cut done without it looking like I took a pair of garden shears to it.”
I hated to tell her that it wouldn’t faze me a bit if that’s how it turned out. I didn’t have an ounce of metro sexual nothing in this body, and all that mattered was keeping it out of my eyes and out of my way.
“Well, then have at it. I’m not too worried about how it’s going to look, but I really do appreciate you saving me some time.”
“It’s no problem, really,” she said, rounding the island in my direction. “I like helping out any way I can.”
I liked that about her. A lot of the women who hung around the club were only in it for what they could get for themselves. Mainly club dick. Which most of the guys were more than willing to give.
To keep my hands busy while she got close, I picked up the bottle of whiskey, unscrewed the cap and took a long swig.
“I could get you a glass for that if you’d like.” She had stepped right up to my back and when she spoke, her breath felt like a warm caress on the back of my neck. Fuuuuck.
“I’m good like this.” I was too tense to elaborate, what with her tits occasionally brushing up against my back as she fingered my hair. And I felt that shit in my balls. I didn’t ever remember a haircut being this sensual since…
I swallowed more whiskey in an attempt to drown out those thoughts. This was not the time for the past. Or maybe it was. I needed something to keep me in check.
“I like the way the gray is layered through your hair. It looks nice.”
I snorted at that. “You mean it makes me look like I am—old.”
Her fingers halted their movements. “You are not old.”
“Says the girl young enough to be my daughter.”
I felt her stiffen against me and take a step back. Jesus, I really did have a mouth problem tonight. I waited for her to give me some pithy comeback, and when none came I opted to stay quiet as well.
Despite that, the silence wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. She continued to cut my hair while I drank more whiskey. At some point in the process she’d begun to hum and I liked the sound of it. She really did seem happy doing this for me and I appreciated her for it.
“I need you to turn around now so I can get the front.” Her soft request knocked me out of my latest stupor.
“What?”
“I need to cut the front. Does this stool spin?” She grabbed my leg and pulled me around while I stared dumbfounded at the sight of her hand on my thigh. Heat burned through the denim and all I could think about was what her touch would be like on my bare skin. “There,” she said, obviously satisfied once she had me turned fully around.
I thought I was ready to handle something as simple as a haircut, but I hadn’t counted on her stepping between my legs to do it. This position put her generously exposed tits practically in my face and her bare legs within easy reach as well. Now all I could think about was burying my head into her cleavage and picking her up by the ass and wrapping those cute legs around my waist so she could ride my?—
Fuck.
I should have made arrangements to get laid. Or at least jacked off to relieve some of this tension.
“How short do you want it in front? I think you should leave it long enough to slick back,” she pushed her hands through my hair and demonstrated what she meant. “It’s a good look on you.”
Her words made me focus on her lips. Yet another danger zone. They were pale pink and plump with only a hint of lipstick left on them. As she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth on one side, it took all of my restraint not to lean forward and suck it free. My dick had gotten so damned hard, my pants were getting uncomfortable in the crotch.
“Do whatever you want,” I answered, my voice way too husky for my own liking.
She dropped her hand and met my gaze. Her eyes were dilated and her lips now slightly apart. Her breath choppy. Neither one of us was thinking about my hair, and I didn’t know how to stop it.
“Are you sure about that?” she whispered, her tongue peeking out to wet her lips.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” I said the words even though I knew neither one of us referred to how she should cut my hair. We were leaning towards each other and I suddenly couldn’t find a way to stop it. Or maybe, it was time I admitted I didn’t want it to stop.
That was my last sane thought before her lips touched mine and I closed my mouth around hers, sealing our fate.