Chapter 1
Smoke left Red Jack’s lungs in one long exhale through his nose. He was waiting for Lucy to leave the club after he decided not to watch her strip today in hope she’d find his action classy enough to finally put out. His dick was in dire need of sucking. Hadn’t he waited long enough for the bitch anyway? Almost a year since she started stripping at the clubhouse parties and wouldn’t even give him a lap dance. Fucking Ice Queen. Gave Sam a lap dance, and what did Sam have that Red Jack didn’t? Sure, the fucker had a pretty face, but he was also shorter and smaller. Maybe he was less threatening? That was a comforting thought. Being intimidating wasn’t always a bad thing. Chicks dug that. He’d rather not let his subconscious tell him that she probably didn’t like redheads, or freckles, or that something else was wrong with him.
Red Jack worked hard at the gym to get the way he was. All bulked up, with a ripped stomach, full-sleeve tattoos up to the knuckles, and a big beard trimmed at the barber’s every week. He was no scum. He was fucking biker royalty, and that bitch Lucy had better acknowledge it.
He put out his cigarette against the wall. “For fuck’s sake… how long can a motherfucking lap dance take?”
The backdoor of the club opened the moment he thought that for probably the hundredth time, but Red Jack’s hopes were crushed yet again when he saw Lucy’s colleague, Anita, walk out in a short fur coat. She rushed through the parking lot at the back of the strip club, her high heels clicking on the rough asphalt.
“Hey, babe!” Red Jack yelled. “You seen Lucy? She said she’d meet me outside.” He couldn’t focus that much on Lucy though when his gaze strayed to Anita’s ass in just a pair of hot pants.
The woman stumbled in her high heels, spinning around to look at him. “She’s not here anymore,” she called, quickly pulling out the car keys and fumbling with the lock of her ancient Ford. She virtually jumped inside and slammed the door shut as if there were a pack of wild dogs chasing her.
Red Jack raised his arms in annoyance. The fuck was that? Did the bitch ditch him? How fucking rude was that? She’d told him herself that she’d be leaving through the backdoor. Did she ‘forget’ about him again?
Red Jack sneered and lit himself another cigarette. The girl acted like he was some fucking leper, when in fact it would be him doing her a favor by putting his dick in her. How cold can a bitch be? Just because she was some pole-princess, doing all those stunts, didn’t make her any better than him. She didn’t even have big tits. She was practically a pity fuck. And here Red Jack was, ready to give his dick to the charity-case pussy, and what did he get? Fucking insults!
Anita drove by, but just as Red Jack mounted his bike, her car moved backward until she was close enough for them to clearly see each other through her open window.
“Friendly advice? Give up. She doesn’t like you, so stop being a creep.”
Red Jack threw the cigarette at her car. “Friendly advice? Keep those cumdrinking lips shut!” Didn’t like him? Why the fuck would she not like him? Red Jack showered that ungrateful pussy with attention. He even got her some lingerie last week, and it was some expensive lace stuff as well.
Anita drove off without a word and disappeared from sight with a squeak of tyres. The bitch was probably jealous he was ignoring her in favor of Lucy. If only Lucy paid more attention to him, she’d surely understand what was good for her. Like that man-slut Jack had met yesterday. That fucker had given his cock some proper worship. Even licked his pubes, didn’t mind the freckles. Red Jack would even say the guy was too eager, trying to grab him all over, as if the short encounter was more than a hookup. Nobody met up for a date in a public toilet.
Red Jack was getting a boner even thinking about those dick-sucking lips, the throat taking him like a pro. He put on his helmet and drove along the beach to cool off. He had rules, and one of them was not going with a guy two times in a row. There had to be pussy in between to ground him. But he could text the guy after he’d dipped his dick in a few girls. The dude had those haunting black eyes that watched Red Jack so intensely, like he wanted to eat him alive. Maybe he was one of those biker-groupie fags who wet themselves the moment they saw a real man on a bike. Or maybe he had a hard time getting a guy, since there was a set of freaky scars on that pretty face. A game of tic-tac-toe, won by the circles, covered the little cocksucker’s entire left cheek, and no amount of hair could hide the protruding lines.
Red Jack stopped at a gas station to get a frozen pizza and sped straight home. Red Jack’s house was the perfect bachelor pad, and he was sure Lucy would drop her panties the moment she saw his hi-fi system and the new TV, the biggest on the market. In fact, it was so big Red Jack needed to push back his sofa all the way to the wall to watch comfortably.