Chapter 2
Two
Light
I tried the whole gentleman thing once.
Held the door, took the fall, kept her secrets.
And for what?
A three-year bid and a woman who never wrote back.
I know I should go back to the clubhouse. Go back to my family and just be at peace, but I can't. I don't want to see all the love and joy that comes with having new ol' ladies in the house.
Don't get me wrong. I'm happy for both Brick and Hook that they found someone who seems like they're going to be around forever—women they can share all the troubles of their lives with. But I've had that before, and I know the truth of the matter.
Shit is only good until the bad times roll in, and then all that happiness goes flying out of the window.
No. I'd rather stay realistic about my love life.
Women are only good for one thing, and that's to get a quick nut.
The neon lights of the small strip club pulse in time with the beat, and my eyes lazily scan up to the stage where the chest-heavy woman is doing a series of tricks and bends on the pole. I don't think I've had a taste of her yet. Tonight is the best time for me to test those waters.
I keep my eyes glued on her, and when she looks down at me, a small smile curls up on her lips.
Yeah, I know what she wants. I've got more than enough for her. I shoot her a wink and lean back to take in the show.
I'm sure her dance started out as a show for the other men in the club, but now that she's got a look at me, she's dancing only for me.
I'm the star of her show. I don't mind the attention. In fact, I thrive on it. After all, I'm one good-looking man, why wouldn't she want to hold my attention?
She dances for a few minutes more, and the second the music transitions into the next song, she hurries to pick up her loose tips and get to the back of the stage. She turns in my direction and puts up a finger to let me know to wait one minute while she gets herself together.
I'm in no rush. In fact, if I have my way, I don't think I'll go back to the clubhouse at all tonight.
Another woman walks up to me, this one a little shorter and less busty than the one that was just on stage. She has a tray in her hand. She doesn't seem like she's one of the strippers.
"You haven't been around much lately, Light. I was starting to think that you forgot about me." She smiles before she takes a seat next to me.
I blink a few times as I stare at her face. She's talking like I should remember her. That can only mean one thing, I must have fucked her… recently.
"Uh, not sure what I should be remembering. Maybe you want to give me a clue?"
The woman blinks a few times, and I see the smile on her face slowly slide into a frown.
She was about to get pissed. Unfortunately, I didn't have time for any temper tantrums. Hell, I never have time for temper tantrums. It's the main reason I always let the women I get involved with know that it's just a one-time thing.
I don't need anyone getting attached to me.
"What the hell do you mean you don't know what you should be remembering? You were just at my house last week. I waited for you to come back like you said you were."
I put my hand up to stop her right away. "First off, sweetheart, I'm damn sure that I never told you I was coming back. I don't make those kinds of promises. I've got shit to do, and paying a second or third visit to a good time just isn’t it."
It's almost comical as I watch the woman's eyes go wide, followed by her mouth. She's gaping at me like a nearly dead fish.
"You did… you said that you had…"
Suddenly, I remember the conversation I had with her last week after I just got some subpar sex from her.
It wasn't like her pussy wasn't tight or anything like that, but she didn't have the confidence that I needed.
She was more concerned about hiding her body from me than showing me all those skills she swore she had.
She closes her mouth, shakes her head and walks away. I guess I should be happy it didn't turn into anything more. Still I feel like a dick. I could've said something to make her feel better.
Just as I’m about to say something to soften the blow, the waitress walks back over, tray gone, arms crossed tight over her chest.
“You done dissecting our ‘moment’ like it was a biology project?” she snaps.
I blink. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
She lets out a breathy laugh. “You told me I had ‘missionary energy.’ Do you always talk to women like you’re giving Yelp reviews?”
“Hey,” I defend, holding up my hands. “Three stars is still a solid score.”
She glares. “You said two and a half.”
Shit. Did I?
I rub the back of my neck, trying to recover. “Well, you got a great face. Real expressive. That counts for something.”
“Oh wow,” she deadpans. “So glad I didn't shave for you.”
“I didn’t ask you to shave,” I mutter.
“You didn’t have to,” she fires back, arms flailing now. “You just stared at my bush like it insulted your mother.”
I choke on my own breath. “I did not!”
She tilts her head. “You called it a ‘hippie surprise.’”
Damn. That… that actually does sound like something I’d say.
I sigh and slouch back in the booth, defeated. “Look, I’m not exactly boyfriend material, okay? You caught me on a weird night.”
She folds her arms again, tapping her foot. “Every night with you is a weird night.”
I glance toward the stage, hoping for a distraction. Nothing. Just lights and bad techno.
“So we good?” I ask, peeking up at her like a scolded toddler. “No hard feelings?”
She squints. “Oh, I’ve got feelings. Just none that involve your dick ever entering my home again.”
“Fair enough.”
It's not like I want to give her another shot. Once and done. It's a rule for me.
I watch as she walks away, her head shaking as if she's disappointed. I'm not. In fact, I think I made out pretty good in that situation. There are some women who would throw a whole fit. Crying and begging, the whole deal. I don't have time for any of that.
Leaning back in the chair I watch as the dancer that was just on the stage finally makes her way in my direction. She glances over in the direction of the waitress that just walked away. I hope I'm not going to have to talk fast to get her to play nice with me.
"You having some issues with Kayla?" She questions as she cozies up next to me.
Kayla... that's the waitress' name. I'd say that I'd try to remember that but I'd be lying.
"No, she just wanted to talk to me about something. It's all good." I lean forward and whisper directly into the woman's ear.
"I'm Lacy by the way." She runs her hand over my cut, her fingers playing with the thick threads on the patches. She's impressed. Every woman wants a little bad boy in their lives. Just wearing this cut has gotten more trim than I can count.
"Nice to meet you Lacy, you done for the night?" I really didn't want to have to sit around for the rest of the night waiting for her to get off. If she still had to work I'd have to find someone else to spend my time with.
"No, I have a few more sets to do."
"Damn, that's too bad, well..." I stand ready to get up and leave her there. She grabs hold of my arm and keeps me from moving away.
"No, don't leave... Don't you want to spend time with me"? She pouts and I nearly laugh. Is that supposed to have an effect on me?
"Sorry, sweetness, my time is just as valuable as yours and I don't have time to just sit here. Either we're going to have some fun or I'm going about my business."
Lacy squints her eyes as if she's trying to figure out if she's going to have to pout a little harder to get me to do what she wants me to do. I simply tilt my head to the side. I'm not going to play the fool for her. I don't care how good she looks.
I guess she realizes that it's a losing battle with me because she straightens up and stands in front of me.
"There's a room in the back if you don't mind keeping things quiet," she whispers in my ear.
Exactly what I wanted to hear.
"I can be quiet, beautiful. The question is, can you?" I smirk at her, and she gives me a soft giggle as I let her take my hand and tug me in the direction of the hidden room I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to be in.
She looks over her shoulder once just to make sure no one is following her, and when she is sure that everything is safe and that no one will come after her, she opens a door and all but shoves me inside.
I don't mind a little aggression from the women I'm with. Makes things fun.
She doesn't have much clothes on to begin with.
"Oh, this is going to be so good. I can tell already," she hums as she lets her hands slide up and down my front, before she slides her fingers under my cut.
I slide my colors off and let them drape over the back of one of the chairs in the room.
There's a slight bit of mustiness wafting from the carpet in the room.
I'm not sure what this room was used for before, but I'm sure it's been used for exactly what Lacy and I are getting ready to do in recent times.
I grab hold of her neck and tilt her head back so I can get closer to her.
I press my lips against hers, and she moans as if she's eating a hearty meal instead of kissing.
The moans are extra. It has nothing to do with how I'm making her feel.
I hate a woman that has to fake it. If I wasn't already hard as a rock getting ready to slide into her, I'd have gone limp.
"Shush, darling. There's no need for all that." I pull her face back and shake my head slightly.
She gasps as if she's confused by my request. The look doesn't last very long before she nods her head once and goes back to kissing me. This time the moans are much less over the top.
I grab hold of the strings that keep her little outfit up on her body and pull. The great thing about strippers is they rarely wear anything that's too hard to get off. With that one pull of the string, the outfit unravels and falls down to her feet.