"I noticed some of them riding in. I also saw a van of women being dropped off and some more women standing by the gates. This party feels different from the one the other night."
"It is." He slid his belt through the loops on his jeans. "Three prospects are going to get their colors, their full patch. It's a fuckin' big deal. The women who got out of the van are some of the strippers from our club. They'll entertain the brothers in one of the rooms. We have a stage and pole set up. The other women are hoodrats, who come to the parties to let loose. You know: drugs, fucking, and booze. They all gotta get cleared through security to make sure we don't have any rival club people or badges slipping through."
"Do you think the black dress I bought in town the other day will be okay? Some of the women had on sexier outfits."
"Who do you want to look sexy for? If it's me, I already think you are. If it's for another brother, don't even fuckin' think about it." He attached several strands of chains onto his belt loop.
A warm shiver skimmed across her skin, and she melted at the intensity with which he watched her. "I was just saying that because I thought I may stand out like a sore thumb."
"Are you kidding? You're all kinds of crazy in that dress. And just ‘cause someone's looking at you doesn't mean you have to play Miss Social and talk to them. In my world doing that will get you a fucking, not an invitation to a charity ball."
She shook her head. "So basically I'm not to look at or talk to anyone but you?"
"Pretty much. I gotta get down there to make sure everything's good. Remember to text me when you're ready." He walked out, closing the door behind him. The jiggle of the knob made her smile; he was always making sure she was safe.
She walked back to the window, her eyes widening when she saw the throngs of bikes parked in the lot and the women gathered at the gate. A fluttery, empty feeling played in her stomach, and she gripped her arms to try and quiet her nerves. She pulled away from the window and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.
By the time she entered the great room, Rock's arm hooked with hers, the place was teeming with people. The haze from the smoke was so dense that she had to tilt her head in several positions to make out any faces. Punctuating beats from a Metallica song pounded in her ears as Rock led her to the bar. Without warning, he grasped her waist and hoisted her up, placing her on a barstool.
"You want wine?" he yelled in her ear.
She nodded as she looked around the room. Three men wearing clean new vests stood on tables drinking one shot after another. She surmised they were the ones who received the patch Rock and the others seemed so fond of. Clotille turned to look at the bartender and noticed that he placed drinks on the bar before anyone asked for them, like he knew what the brothers wanted.
"How does he know what they want to drink?" she shouted in Rock's ear.
"That's one of the duties of being a prospect. He's gotta know what the members in his club drink and have it ready the minute he sees them come in. The prospects start learning that shit when they're just hangarounds. Once someone sponsors them and they become prospects, the crap they have to know and do goes way up."
"Seems like a lot to do for just a couple of guys for a big club like yours."
Rock shrugged. "We all had to do that shit, so we're not asking them to do anything more than what we did."
A burst of shouts and whistling drew her attention away from Rock and to the center of the room. There was a line of women, and the three newly patched members went to each one, kissing them, touching their breasts, and squeezing their behinds. Clotille leaned in to Rock. "What the hell are they doing?"
He yelled out to the guys and then laughed. "They're picking which club girl they want to fuck. They've been talking with them, flirting with them, and watching them fuck different brothers for the past two years, but they couldn't touch ‘em or do anything with ‘em. Since they have their full patches, they can have fun with the club girls. I bet Puck's going to fuck Rosie. He's been pitching a damn tent for her since she came on board a year ago."
Clotille watched in fascination as each man yanked a woman to him while the others cheered and clapped with each choice. The women picked seemed thrilled, and they clapped their hands and kissed the men who chose them.
This is a strange world, but is it any stranger than the one I lived in with Frederick?
After the men left with their chosen women, the crowd thinned a bit as people filed out into the backyard. Rock wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her off the stool. "Let's get something to eat." He grabbed her hand and led her out the back door.
After securing a plate of ribs-it seemed like barbecue was all they ever ate-salad, green beans, and cornbread, she and Rock sat at one of the many tables strewn around the area and dug into their food. Eating whatever she liked felt like a guilty pleasure for her. For the past several years, her meals consisted of salad, steamed vegetables, and cottage cheese. Frederick dictated what she ate, and since he wanted her to be stick thin-a hard thing to be for an hourglass-figured woman-she rarely ate the tantalizing meals he required that she prepare for him.
A lump formed in her throat as she thought about what she'd put up with in her relationship with him. When she had agreed to become involved with him, she never would have imagined his lifestyle would have controlled her whole life. She'd erroneously believed his desires would be satiated with some kink in the bedroom, but she was wrong. By the time she'd realized what she'd gotten into, it was too late to change her mind. Things had already been put in place, and upsetting the balance would've been detrimental to-
"You want some more food?" Rock's voice cut through her thoughts.
"No, thanks. It's good but I couldn't eat another bite." She began to rise to throw the paper plates out when his hand on her thigh anchored her to the bench.
"I'll do that." He took her plate and slid off the bench, pitching their trash in the nearest bin. When he came back, he put his arm around her. "Let's go inside." He gave her his hand and she took it, following him into the club.
As she walked past several groups of people, she noticed many of them were in various stages of having sex: women on their knees giving blowjobs, men sucking women's tits, threesomes, and full-on fucking. It's like a play party without the whips, restraints, and equipment.
When she entered the great room, Rock pulled her close to him and said, "Let's dance." He grabbed her hands and flung her around while people stepped back and watched the couple. After several fast tunes, a ballad crooned over the speakers and Rock pressed her tightly to him, his arms looped around her waist. The touch of his hands burned into her skin and her heart raced. She circled her arms around his neck and placed her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as they swayed to the music, his scent engulfing her. Together they moved to the music as one, their bodies fused and heated as a sweet sensation formed between her legs. She was lost in his touch and while they danced, it felt as though they were the only two people in the room. Everyone but Rock ceased to exist for her and she held him tightly, never wanting to let him go.
As his hands journeyed down her back, landing on her butt, quivers ran up and down her spine. Rock's hard dick pressed against her, causing her heart to beat erratically. For so long she'd fantasized about being back in his arms.
"You're so sweet, ma chérie. Do you feel what you're doing to me?"
She tilted her head back and her gaze locked with his lust-filled one. She traced his jawline with her finger. "And do you know what you're doing to me?"
"I got a pretty good idea. I bet if I touched your panties they'd be sopping." He leaned down and kissed her neck, his warm breath tickling it. "Fuck, chérie, you're making me think dirty thoughts." His words shimmied down her neck and landed smack dab on her aching sex.
Bending down, he peppered kisses along her neck before taking her earlobe into his mouth and licking it while moving his teeth against its softness. "It's so good to have you in my arms. You're killing me."
Clotille buried her face against his throat; he placed a finger under her chin and gently lifted her head up. His gaze caught and held hers, and she gasped at its smoldering intensity. He dipped down and his mouth hungrily covered hers, his hand at the small of her back holding her flush to him. His tongue forged through her seam and tangled with hers as his breathing deepened. Desire raced through her, but then he pulled away-too quickly for her liking-leaving her mouth burning.