Chapter 7
Aiden
“What the fuck are you doing hiring a woman who isn’t even old enough to drink?” I lean back in my chair and study Roz. I’ve known her for seven years, and I give her a lot of free rein when it comes to Lavish.
“She says she’s twenty-two. I know she’s not the usual type, that’s for sure, but she’s feisty as fuck.” Roz grins at me. “Got a healthy, natural look that men like you will love.”
“Men like me?” I bark.
“Men who like a challenge.” Roz winks. “That attitude and that beautiful, curvy body,” she adds with a shrug. “Dagger seems to like her. He hasn’t taken his eyes off her all night.”
“She’s Little House on the Prairie,” I tell her, shoving her assumptions off and turning my eyes to Dagger. He is in fact watching Mia intently while she sips her fruity little drink. And Roz is also right about Mia’s body. It’s fucking incredible, even in that hideous dress.
“We need to keep an eye on him,” I tell Roz, and she knows why.
Isaac “Dagger” Rodham is an absolute fucking lunatic.
He’s the cousin of an ex-member who was close with Marco and is now the president of the Savannah chapter of the Wretched Souls MC.
Dagger usually only hangs around when he comes down from Perrytown for his shipment.
I’ve never liked him, not in the slightest, but he’s a boss, and he buys the majority of the guns we bring in from overseas and helps distribute them for us along the East Coast. A business arrangement that was made long before my time, and it’s lucrative.
I just make sure to keep him away from any girls under my protection. They all know his MO.
Keeping my eyes trained on him, I pull a smoke from my pack and light it with the silver lighter that belonged to my father.
Foxx is engraved on the side, and it’s from the early days of our club.
A time when our name was something to be proud of.
I breathe out a sigh and remind myself that I’m running things now, and I’m making it that way again. It just takes time.
“She’s got an attitude, I know, but she’s quick-witted. I figure most of the men will love that, and the ones who don’t still won’t be able to resist that ass or those tits. God, I miss having tits like that.” She sighs.
She says it so wistfully I can’t help but chuckle.
Truth is, even though she’s almost forty-eight, she still has men in the clubs hitting on her every day.
But better still, she keeps everything and everyone in line for me, and I appreciate that.
Anything I don’t have to worry about makes my day just a little bit easier.
My newest employee catches my attention now, as I ponder exactly how I’m going to deal with this back-talking, quick-witted goddess. The little Rhiannon. Mia.
Roz isn’t wrong. Her thick, platinum hair would fall almost to her waist if it wasn’t in another one of those tight braids.
Her skin is soft and nearly flawless, save for the inch long scar along the left side of her chin, and the slight swelling in her upper lip that wasn’t there this afternoon.
It makes me wonder who did that to her and why.
It only serves to fuel my thoughts that she belongs to someone who’s sent her here.
And even if that’s true, it still pisses me off.
There’s nothing I can’t stand more than a man who beats on a woman. Dickless piece of shit.
The more I watch her scoping out the room, the more I’m convinced she’s here for a reason. If Ramsey was sending someone in, she’d be the perfect candidate to make men spill more than they should.
Fuck, it’s as if someone handcrafted her just for me.
Even in that church-girl dress, she’s fucking dangerously gorgeous, and like Roz pointed out, she’ll catch the eye of every man in my club with both her curves and those full pink lips.
A vision of them coated in a deep, glossy red, with all that hair loose and wild, flashes through my mind, and I let my gaze trail up her thighs to her plump, round ass.
Remembering how soft her skin is, I settle on her best feature.
Those eyes. Icy blue, framed by long dark lashes.
They almost have a sad look to them. A smokescreen that keeps anyone who’s looking from seeing the true her.
The only time those eyes blazed darker was when I touched her.
Forcefully. She was definitely a little afraid of me, but surprisingly, she seemed to like the fear, and that enticed me in ways that make her very dangerous.
“She’s graceful. Shame she isn’t gonna dance, but maybe if we see the need to add—”
“No,” I answer, knowing what a shit show that would be. I have a hard enough time keeping men from touching the girls now. If she gets up there, it will be nothing but a goddamn headache. “She’s too inexperienced,” I add. “Let her draw the men to the stage. She’ll bring in a lot of money doing it.”
Mia takes a fresh drink from one of our regular dancers, Libby, and I watch as she smiles at her before taking a sip.
That smile is a fucking heartbreaker. I watch her wrap those eager lips around the straw, and my cock involuntarily twitches against my zipper.
I shift in my seat, asking myself why I’m thinking about some headstrong little priss.
“You know what, fuck it. If she wants to dance, let her dance,” I tell Roz, changing my mind. What the fuck do I care if the men fight over her, as long as she behaves?
“Whatever you say, but there isn’t any need right now. Maybe later in the summer, if she can make it as a server,” she says before she starts talking to Tally beside her.
It gives me more time to watch Mia carefully.
She would have looked incredible in the dress I picked out for her.
The thin, ruby-colored fabric would have molded to her body perfectly and showcased her full, beautiful tits, giving the illusion that the skinny little straps could just barely hold them up.
I frown at the outfit she’s wearing now.
It’s the polar opposite of what I chose, and I know she wore it just to prove that she isn’t going to be obedient.
It’s a flowery, loose, light-blue sundress.
Strapless but as innocent as can be, with a hem that sits higher in the front than the back.
She thinks she looks demure, but what she doesn’t realize is that every single man in this clubhouse is watching her and imagining how they’d ruin her innocence with their cocks crammed down her slender little throat.
Apparently myself included, because I instantly picture her on her knees, those lips parted and tears running down her cheeks while I fuck her face until she gags.
I try to push the thought from my mind, but the next one follows immediately.
Spreading her soft, full ass wide, letting it fill my palms while she rides my cock, those big, beautiful tits in my face.
“Kinda zoned out there…?” Roz pulls me from my vision, and I turn my gaze to my old friend. “Did you even hear me?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I lie. I must be fucking tired. I’ve never pictured myself with one of the employees before, especially one who’s thirteen years younger than me. Business is business, and pleasure has no place in business.
I pride myself on giving these girls a safe space to earn as much money as they can, while they help us wash both ours and our clients’ cash in return.
“All right then, it’s settled. She’s starting tomorrow,” Roz confirms. I pull the final drag from my smoke and stub it out as I exhale, thinking.
“Send her to my office now.” I mention the space in the back of our clubhouse that’s my place to work, to think, to keep all our deals in order and our clients straight.
“You’re the boss, boss,” Roz singsongs, swallowing down the rest of her whiskey.
Yes, I fucking am, and it’s time to make that clear to our new little center of attention.