From where he stood, Rock could feel her resentment for the man who controlled her, and for a quick moment he wondered if she were willingly his submissive or was being forced into his world. Bear grunted and Rock turned to him. "This is fucked, man," he said under his breath. Rock shrugged, his gaze pulled back to the woman Frederick was feeding.
For some reason, Rock was drawn to her. The pull was strong, but he knew it was insane; he didn't know anything about her, and she was Frederick's wife or partner. Plus, she hadn't even noticed him. Some of the women sneaked peeks at him, but the clothed woman stayed perfectly still, her hair half in her face. The only thing exposed to him was her full, shining red lips that wrapped around the piece of steak each time it was given to her. I'd love those lips around my cock. What the fuck am I saying? Why the hell did Banger take this shitty job? Something about the woman touched him; he wanted to find out her name, where she was from, and if she were with Frederick of her own accord.
Before he could explore the odd feelings swirling around inside him, Frederick said something in her ear. His tone was sharp, a bit jagged, but Rock couldn't make out the words.
She jumped up while saying, "Yes, Sir."
He looked at his dinner guests and grinned wolfishly as he pushed back his chair. "Come here, my sweet fucktoy," he said sternly. She stood up and then dropped to her knees between his, spreading them out, her head down. Frederick grasped the hem of her dress and yanked it up, revealing no panties and a smooth, shaved pussy. He fisted her hair and pulled her up by it, a small cry escaping from her lips. He placed his hands on her waist and spun her around so she faced the men at the table. "Bend over."
Rock heard her say in a low voice, "Please, Frederick, don't do this." Her voice was as soft as a kiss and washed over Rock. His insides clenched and a single bolt of anger burned up his spine.
As if Bear sensed it, he muttered, "Easy, man. This isn't our business. It's part of a game they have going between them."
"I don't fuckin' think she's playing." A primitive instinct to protect her flooded all his senses.
Frederick glared at the two bikers, his stare piercing. Rock fought every urge he had to beat the shit out of him, toss the red-dressed woman over his shoulder, and take her back to his cave. The host turned back around and slapped her ass hard. She gasped as he continued slapping her, the men laughing and egging Frederick on to hit her harder. From where he was standing, Rock could see her lips quivering, a flushed sliver of neck showing through her hair.
"He's fuckin' humiliating her on purpose," Rock growled.
"I know, but it's their scene, man." Bear crossed his arms.
Both bikers were uncomfortable with the way the woman was being treated. Even though they fucked hard and rough, they fooled around with women who wanted it, and they wouldn't embarrass a woman in public unless she enjoyed it. But maybe she does enjoy this. I know people get off on this type of play. Damn, why do I give a shit what's going on here? Fuck you, Banger!
Frederick stood up, pulled down the woman's dress, and then wrapped his hand in her hair, pulling her toward him. When her face was close to his, he kissed her and she curled her arm around his neck, leaning into him. Rock watched as the woman passionately kissed the man who'd just humiliated her. The host stood up, grabbed her leash, and tugged her behind him. In a loud voice, he said, "Gentlemen, let's go to the playroom for some fun."
The men followed their host, their subs obediently crawling behind them. Rock and Bear followed them to the basement door. Frederick turned to them. "You aren't allowed downstairs. Stand guard in the room until we are finished," he said in a dismissive tone before closing the door, the lock clicking loudly.
A few hours later, the dinner guests returned except for the woman in the red dress. Rock wondered if the prick had hurt her too bad and she was collapsed on the floor in the basement. Frederick walked his friends to the door and they exchanged "Thank yous" and "Good-byes." He closed the door and stared at Rock, Wheelie, and Bear. "I wasn't pleased that you talked during the dinner party when you were told not to. That won't fly the next time. You can go."
Rock, trying to control his temper, said, "We don't give a fuck if you were pleased or not. And your attitude doesn't ‘fly' with us. You didn't like it? Tough shit."
"Let's get outta here," Wheelie said, clasping Rock's shoulder.
"Come on, man. This shit ain't worth it." Bear stood next to Rock. Frederick glared at all three of them.
"Fuck it." Rock stormed out, welcoming the cool night air. He had to clear his head, rid his mind of the woman who knelt so silently and obediently.
"Why's he so pissed?" Chas asked as Rock jumped on his Harley, his face dark and brooding.
"Some intense shit went down inside this fucker's house. Damn. Did you see any of it, Wheelie?"
"Yeah. It was cool ‘cause they all were into it. Why the hell is Rock so pissed? It's not like it's all that different from the initiation of a club whore. Everyone is down for it, including the chick."
"Will someone tell me what the fuck you're talking about? We were outside all night. What was going down in there?" Bones asked, while Axe, Chas, Rags, and Throttle nodded in agreement.
"I'll tell you when we get back to the club. I'm fuckin' dying for a beer." Bear swung his leg over his bike.
"Your old lady gonna let you stay out late tonight?" joked Throttle.
"Yeah. What about yours?"
"Nope. She's got something romantic planned."
The brothers laughed and made kissy noises as they switched on their ignitions and roared into the night.
When they got back to the clubhouse, a party was in full swing. The brothers who had old ladies left after one beer while the single ones stayed and mingled with the partygoers. Rock was on his fourth shot of Jack when the pretty brunette from the previous night came up to him. He smiled when he saw her, the memory of his cock buried in her ass still fresh in his mind.
"Hi, sexy. I was hoping you'd show up. Where've you been?" she said as she pressed close, her hard nipples crushing against him.
"I was doing something." He threw back his shot, then motioned for another. "You couldn't find another brother?"
"No one here compares to you." She squeezed his bicep, then bent down and traced his tattoo with her tongue. "Wanna have some fun?"
Rock wished he was feeling it the way he had the previous night. "Sorry, babe, not tonight. I'm so fuckin' tired. Another time."
Her eyes widened. "Didn't I please you last night?"
"Yeah, and I did the same to you. It was great. It's not you. I'm just fuckin' tired, that's all." That wasn't all. The woman at the mansion had disturbed him. He couldn't get her out of his mind.
The brunette stayed next to him until Bones came over. "You having a good time with this one?" His whiskey breath fanned over Rock's face.
"She's cool. We had some fun last night. Passing on it tonight."
The brunette smiled widely at Bones, and Rock knew she'd found a replacement. He blew out a relieved breath as she walked away from him, her arm around Bones's waist and his draped over her shoulder.
Rock stared at the party unfolding before him, but his mind was on the woman at Frederick's party. I want to see her again. Fuck, what am I talking about? I don't know why she's still in my head. But she was. Maybe it was the way her full lips took the pieces of food in her mouth, or the way her delicate hands gripped the table when her partner humiliated her. He didn't know; he couldn't make sense of it. All he knew was that she stirred something deep inside him. It was like she was a magnet drawing him to her. She didn't even know I was in the damn room. This is fucked.
Shaking his head, he left the party and stumbled up to his room. When he closed the door, he took out a bottle of brandy, put on a CD of Lee Benoit's music, and sat in his easy chair by the window, looking out into the darkness as the music filled the quietness around him. The spirited melody played by the fiddles eased the muddled feelings he had rustling inside him. He closed his eyes and let the rich, dynamic sounds of the button accordion take him back, and for the first time since he'd left Lafayette so many years before, he felt homesick. Right then he'd kill for a proper jambalaya, a lively two-step on the dance floor at Clementine's Bar, and Clotille wrapped around his body. Why the hell did she pop into my mind? I haven't thought about her in a long time. And when he had thought about her, disappointment and bitterness filled him. But at that moment the bad feelings weren't there, and he was eighteen again and loving his sweetheart. And it had been good for that one single moment when they'd come together, their hearts flashing and throbbing as one. But that had been before he'd found his mother cold and bloody on the kitchen floor.