“Listen. I know you’re trying to look out for me and keep me safe, and that means more to me then you’ll ever know, but I’ve got a job to do. It’s not great, but I have to take care of me.” And that is the truth. It would be nice to rely on him, letting him sweep me up into his strange, but comfortable life − a life where money, bills, rules, and mean people don’t matter, but that’s just not a reality for me. I can’t depend on that, no matter how great it sounds. I’m a thing to him, a possession ‘til he tires of me. I’ve known this for a while, and I’ve accepted it. In the end, I only have me and I accept that. I don’t care if I hurt his pride, but my shit needs to be taken care of by me.
Grabbing my bag, I take a step toward the door but he blocks my path. Leaning into the doorframe, he stretches that thick arm out, covering my exit. Arching a brow, he dares me to try and leave. Too bad for him, I don’t go down without a fight.
“You’re stayin’ the fuck here.” Jesus Christ he’s like a dog with a bone. He’s not going to let it go.
“I’m leaving.”
“How the fuck you gonna get there?” He dangles the keys between two fingers in front of me. Jackass. Reaching out, I slap the keys out of his hand and watch them fall to the ground by his feet. He growls at me, like I’m the most annoying thing on Earth.
“Still not goin’, Lala.”
Shrugging one shoulder, I tell him, “We’ll see.”
“What if your little friend is there?” He changes tactics. I’m not even sure what he hopes to accomplish by talking about Ryan, other than to upset me. I’m going one way or another. I have to. They have bouncers and I’ve talked to the boss about what happened with Ryan, with some things left out. He’s doubling security for all us girls from now on. “I’ll find a way. If Ryan is there, I’ll deal with it.”
“Deal with it? What, with your fuckin’ face? Let him beat the shit out of you? Next time you might not be so fuckin’ lucky. He might kill you next time.” That stung, hitting a nerve as he screams it in my face, but I push it away. They were only words. He’s trying to scare me into staying here.
“Maybe, but that’s life, Rampage. I can’t stop living it because of him. I stop, he wins.”
“You’re life ain’t fuckin’ worth winnin’ shit over. You stay here and you lose. Big fuckin’ deal. At least you’re still breathin’, babe.”
“I’m going. I know you’re trying to look out for me and I appreciate it, but I need to get to work. In the end… my life, my decisions.”
“We’ll fuckin’ see,” he throws my words right back at me. I won. Well kind of. I’ve still got to come up with a ride, which shouldn’t be too hard, but I made it out the door.
I lied. It was harder than I thought. Rampage’s brothers are a whole hell of a lot more loyal than I ever would have thought. He said, “Not one of you motherfuckers give her a ride outta this club,” pointing right at my face when he said it.
No one gave me a ride. Hell, no one would even talk to me.
“You are such an asshole,” I hiss at him. He’s staring down at me with a smile, looking pleased with himself, like he’s king shit or something.
Throwing those big heavy arms over his chest, he counters, “And you’re still fuckin’ breathin’, so I’ll live with bein’ an asshole.”
Staring him down, I hear it. I hear the rumble of pipes in the distance. Rampage looks at me and back to the door. He hears them too.
“You move and I swear to God, imma tie your fuckin’ ass up.”
“Try me.” Smacking him in the stomach, I dart around him and a chair, hitting the door before he can grab my arm. Throwing it open, Tags looks at me with wide eyes, but smiles. Rampage’s no ride order didn’t reach Tags yet, and after he scared off the cab driver, Tags is my only hope of getting out of here. I know Rampage is coming for me, so I don’t dilly-dally, “Need a ride, Tags. Please.”
Reaching behind himself, he hands me a helmet, “Sure, babe. Where we goin’?”
“Heavens at Eighth.”
He’s growling at the women. He’s crossing and uncrossing his arms, flexing his fists, then re-crossing his arms again as he sits stiffly in his chair. He glares at all the men, adjusting the gun in its holster constantly. Rampage is genuinely mad as fuck. It lasted ten minutes. Ten fuckin’ minutes before he was chasing me down like a psychopath, showing up with six guys.
He’s sitting in a chair three inches from the stage, trying to block everyone’s view. He’s looking like a hard wall of pissed off man muscle while he silently pouts. Even Sunny up on stage can’t get that scowl off is his face. I only slightly feel bad for him. He’s doing this to himself.
“You gonna let him suffer?” Cali asks, poking her head around the corner.
“He looks fuckin’ miserable, so I say hell yeah. He deserves it,” Lil adds.
“Why the hell you doin’ this in the first place? Not that I’m against women workin’ and supportin’ themselves, but I don’t really like the idea of you workin’ here either,” Cali says. It’s not like I want to be here. This is not my idea of a fulfilling, rewarding job.
“My boss Rick paid last quarter’s tuition. In turn, I dance to pay it back.” My boss is an asshole. He’s a pervert, but whatever he is, he helped me out when things were rough. He also lets me set my schedule and work the busy nights, or take nights off because he knows I’m good to my word. I made a deal with him and I intend to see it through to the end. “I’ve only got a few more nights left, anyway. I’ve paid him back and then some, and still saved enough for my next tuition payment.”
Wiggling my black leather booty shorts up over my hips, I make sure just enough ass is showing to give them a little taste. Snapping the two buttons on my tight, black leather t-backed top right under my tits, I slide on the straps, and I’m done. The front cuts low, dipping to the two buttons, the only thing holding it together. My girls are squeezed up and out of my top. This getup leaves little to the imagination, so it’s what I like to call my tip getter. Sliding on my thigh high boots, I lace up the backs. Running my fingers through my hair, I shake it out and I’m ready.
“One for the road, baby doll.” Molly waves me over. With a little blow, I shake my nerves. Adding my lip gloss, I hit the hall.
This is my song, slow and sexy. The beat is simple and alluring, filled with sex innuendos in the lyrics. This is for Rampage. When I dance, I’ll dance only for him. Tonight I’ve got my muse. Skin beats through the club and I let my body do the talking, giving him a show.
Slowly winding down the pole, I twist my body around it, letting myself fall with little effort. Reaching my hand behind my head, I twist myself upside down and drop to the floor. Giving my ass a good shake before I get back up, doing my thing. I make sure that Rampage is eye fucking me.
Rampage is on the edge of his chair, watching me intently with his elbows resting on his bouncing knees. He’s burning with pure rage, and yes, he’s eye fucking me, just like I wanted him to. My tiny booty shorts are so goddamn wet I can feel it with my hand when I touch myself. He’s drilling holes through me with every move I make. He looks so goddamn mad and it’s making me hot. I have to remind myself that other people can see me, so I keep it reeled in… barely.
My music starts to fade to the next song, and I promised someone else a little fun tonight. Or Nah kicks in, another favorite of mine. It’s something dirty to have fun to. Grinding my body toward the back of the stage, I pull Cali out with me. I can hear Stitch and the guys hollering as soon as her half naked ass is in the middle of the stage with me. This’ll be fun.
I grab around her waist and drop myself to a squat in front of her, my face inches from her pussy. Working my way back up slowly, I run my hands up her thighs, sides, and to her tits. I take a leisurely trip around her body, letting my hands roam. With my body now behind hers, I feel around, letting the guys watch my hands. We give them a motherfucking show. She wanted this, and I can see Stitch is enjoying every fucking second of it.
“You dancin’ out there for me, baby?” Rampage asks with a smirk. Sitting in one of the private VIP rooms, he’s leaning back against a couch, an arm thrown over the back, and a smoke hanging from his lips as I straddle his lap. I gave him his own personal show, which ended with me getting fucked hard, right here.
“If I say no?”
“I’ll fuck a yes outta you.”
“Then no.” A big rough hands lands on my ass with a loud smack. He squeezes my ass and gives it a shake. “Love this shit, ‘n it’s the last motherfuckin’ time anyone’s gonna see it but me. You got me.”
“What about…” His hand covers my mouth and his eyes flare with a challenge.
“Shut the fuck up. Don’t give a fuck ‘bout your goddamn bills. I’ll handle it ‘n you’re gonna let me. I got you, Lala. Now shut the fuck up ‘n show me some more of what you can do.”