Chapter 5
5
T he rest of the night went off smooth and the crowd remained steady. No bar fights, no guys trying to storm the stage. None of the typical bullshit that happened in strip clubs. All in all, I was happy—or as happy as I could be after being cut out of my club, but I had plans for that too. The goal now was to make this place a moneymaker and an asset to the Bastards. Then Jameson would bring me and Blood back to the States and let someone local, like Ricky, run The Tropics.
I brought the cash for the night into the office while Blood supervised the cleanup. I headed for the closet where I had a safe installed in the floorboards. No fuckin’ way would I trust the banks here, so for now this was the plan. On the upside the money was completely legit and didn’t have to be washed or finessed into other accounts. Going forward we’d probably stash it in the crawl space under the building.
After I replaced the floorboards, I settled behind my desk and pulled a bottle of Jack and two glasses out of the bottom drawer. Only fitting Blood and I celebrate our success.
A soft knock on the door pulled me away from my thoughts .
“Hi, again.” Marisol peeked around the door. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“I, ahhh, just wanted to thank you for being so nice before.”
Although she had a slight accent her English was much better than the other girls Blood hired.
“No problem. How did it go?”
“Good. I had fun. And because it was so busy the night went by fast.”
“Yeah, we had a good crowd. Hopefully, it’ll continue.”
An awkward silence fell between us. She probably expected me to say more or even flirt with her, but I wasn’t about to engage in the one vice that always blew my life to hell. Women.
“What should I call you?” She shifted her feet and her tits swayed in the low tank top all the female bartenders wore.
“Huh?” While I was confirming her tits were real and not fake, I missed her question.
“What’s your name?”
She shifted again and yeah, I was certain, her tits were real. They were natural just like the roundness of her ass. Fuck, close it down.
“What should I call you?” she repeated.
Yeah, she had the whole package wrapped up in thick dark hair falling in waves down her back.
“Smoke.” I dragged my gaze away from her bangin’ body and was met with eyes so dark they appeared black.
“Excuse, me?” She tilted her head and yeah, her tits swayed again. Fuck me that I noticed— again.
“My name’s Smoke.”
“That’s different.” She said it in a way that made me want to explain my life story.
“It’s my road name. ”
“Like a nickname?” She licked her pouty lips and my faithless dick twitched.
“Yeah, like that.”
“Ahhh, I get it.”
Shit, just my luck, she actually sounded interested. That and her cute Spanish accent were torture.
“So, why Smoke?”
I huffed out a rough laugh. “Cause I can disappear into thin air, like smoke.”
“I see. Are you a . . . magician?”
“Only when I have to be.”
“Mmmm, sounds interesting.”
She held my gaze and somehow this short banter had me fantasizing about her gorgeous ass in the air while I fucked her over my desk. I eyed the Jack figuring we could each do a shot or two, then we’d get naked and go a few rounds before Blood came in.
In the old days, a month ago, that would’ve been a distinct possibility. Blood had seen my dick out more times than I wanted to remember, but I had to keep my head in the game. Forget about how I could almost feel her squeezing my dick with those ripe ass cheeks seconds before I slid home.
“Are you all right?”
I cleared my throat and thank fuck the image cleared too. I reminded my brain and my traitorous dick women were off-limits. Especially innocent women with big, round pleading brown eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” I swiped up my phone. “It’s getting late.” Then it hit me. She didn’t have a car. “How are you getting home?”
I waited for the answer like a guy holding a lottery ticket. If I gave her a ride home on my bike, we’d be fuckin’ for sure, but?—
“I called my brother. He’s coming to pick me up.”
I exhaled a breath—saved .
“Great.” I stood, and she took the hint.
“See you tomorrow.”
“Right.”
Marisol closed the door behind her. I sunk into my chair, uncapped the whiskey and poured a healthy amount into the glass. Then I gulped it down like a drowning man. More like a fucker drowning in sweet pussy.
My office door opened again and thank fuck it was Blood.
“Pour one of them for me, brother, cause tonight was a huge fuckin’ success.” Blood took the chair opposite my desk and swiped up the glass of Jack.
We toasted and I slugged back another shot. Nothing like good ole JD to clear the brain of a woman who was way too young and much too innocent.
“The dancers looked great. Totally different from the coke whores who worked here when we first took over.”
“Agreed. No big problems. One of the soda guns doesn’t work but I’ll switch it out tomorrow. Ricky was a big help too. Seems like he brought in half his neighborhood. I think the kid’s gonna work out.”
“I stored the money in the safe.” I jerked my chin to the closet. “We keep raking it in like tonight we’re gonna have to rethink where we store it all.”
“A nice problem to have—too much money.”
“We can put something in the crawl space and just leave the daily cash flow in the office.”
“Sounds good.” Blood poured himself another shot.
The strip joints we ran in Oceanside and Imperial Beach were profitable and brought the Bastards a lot of legit cash. Plus plenty of collateral for their less legal businesses.
“How did the bar staff work out?” I made sure to keep my question general .
“No issues.” Blood waited a beat. “Why don’t you ask me what you really wanna know?”
“What?” I shrugged really trying to sell my indifference.
“Shit, you are the worst fuckin’ liar. You wanna know about Marisol.”
“Who?” Maybe that was overkill.
Blood rolled his eyes. “Marisol, the female bartender who can’t tell time.”
“Oh her, yeah, how’d she work out?”
“Fine,” Blood deadpanned. “Anything else you wanna know?”
“No fucker, just asking a question.”
“Hmmhmm, I saw the way you were eyeballin’ her all night. You’re not as cool as you think.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Just don’t go getting your dick twisted up again. You wanna screw around, have some fun, fine, but please for fuck’s sake don’t take it any further.”
“I said like three sentences to her and you’re getting all up my ass.”
“And you and I both know when it comes to you getting with a woman there’s a pattern. They’re usually already taken, way outta your league, or they’re screwing every guy in sight while telling you you’re the only one.”
“Sounds like you got me all figured out.” I couldn’t keep the edge off my voice, but the annoying fucker was right. I had a dangerous habit of always picking the wrong woman.
“Two years ago, you were hanging out with that whore Melanie who was ballin’ every guy with a dick and when you caught her you went so crazy you ended up in the joint. Then the Princess of La Jolla had your dick so twisted you forgot about business and well”—Blood motioned around the room—“We ended up here. ”
“All right, all right.” I didn’t need to be reminded of my screw ups and especially the latest one that dropped our asses in Tijuana.
“Just sayin’, brother, be smart this time. Especially since this one is way too young. Her application said she lives a couple of miles from here, probably with her parents, so I really doubt she’s up for your brand of kink.”
“I get it, I get it. She’s off-limits. I’ve already forgotten about her.”
Blood said I wasn’t a good liar, but just then I spit out the biggest lie of all and he bought it. Cause the more Blood told me to stay away and listed all the reasons I should stay away, the hotter little Miss Marisol looked.
From now on when she was working I’d make a beeline for my office. Then I planned on staying in there with the door closed until her shift was over.
Pussy move, for sure, but I didn’t trust myself.