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."
"You gotta pay for it."
Taking a drag from his smoke, he lifts a brow, "Yeah?" Oh yeah.
"Yes." Giving myself a slow little spin I let him get a good look.
"How much is it gonna cost me?" Leaning forward, he places his elbows on his knees and watches me.
"Too much. More than you've got."
Giving me a chin lift he smirks. "That right?"
"Yep." I pop the ‘p' and bend down, running my hands down my thighs to my ankles. "Baby, I'll pay whatever you fuckin' want, but remember that shit belongs to me now." Yes it does.
13
Air Raid
Rampage
No one looks happy. Not that we're a fucking jolly bunch of assholes to begin with, but today the brothers are looking extra mean. Sitting around our table, brothers wait and stew, grumbling and growling about every fucking thing.
Tank looks tired and stressed the fuck out at the head of the table. Tiny looks annoyed, with his face planted in the books, jerking the pages as he flips them back and forth. Happy looks worried, which is nothing new. We've got Spike and Rico, along with a few other new guys leaning against the back wall, acting twitchy and jumpy. They look fired up. Then you've got Gin and Stitch, who both look happy as hell. They're plotting and scheming. Of course this shit would make those motherfuckers giddy.
"Kash gonna live?" Sargent asks, looking grim. The old timer's take this shit seriously. They're looking at this as Vietnam all over again, waiting for someone to holler ‘air raid' so they can duck, cover, and shoot.
"Yeah. Just a busted up arm ‘n some nice road rash. Nothin' some booze ‘n pussy can't fix. Assholes ran him off the road. Guessin' it's because Mr. Shoot-First-Ask-Questions-Later killed one of their brothers," Tank shoots off at me.
///
Still don't give a fuck. I'd do that shit again in a heartbeat, just wish I would've wasted another couple bullets on the other two fucks. Kash'll live and we'll make sure he's well taken care of.
"Don't give a fuck." I fire back. Not a goddamn thing about that shit makes me feel bad. You come to my club not wearing your colors, you're just asking for trouble.
"Figured as much," Tank shoots back, leaning into is chair.
"Gotta say. I don't give a fuck, either. Been wantin' to eradicate those fucks anyway, man," Gin adds, shrugging his shoulder. "They've been fuckin' with my money, and Rampage's girl just gave us a better reason to take those fuckers down."
Lala isn't the only fucking reason we should kill ‘em all. They're here in our neck of the woods, running skin − peddling bitches around the world to the highest bidder. They're using the same goddamn strip joint we found Lala in, as a front. Big fuckin' mistake. The moment that shit popped up around here, we knew. We've been waiting for a good reason to take them out, and they just dug their own graves. They know we don't fuck around with our money, and we don't peddle pussy. You don't kidnap bitches and sell them if they don't want it. That shit is just fucked up, and I know now that that's what was going to happen with Lala.
But their final mistake was putting Lala up on that stage. They might not have known at first, but they sure the fuck knew when they showed up at our doorstep to collect her. Allowing that little puke associate Ryan to set Lala's ass up on that stage, trying to sell her off, is just the icing on the cake. Sending their guys here with Ryan was them sending a message, and we got it loud and clear.
"They gotta go," Stitch says with a serious nod.
"Jesus Christ. You, Rampage, ‘n Gin are three motherfuckers cut from the same goddamn cloth. Always stressin' me the fuck out."
I'm not gonna argue that. Anyone, and I mean anyone that wants to mess with our family, that shit is personal. I don't give a fuck if it's Lala, Sis, Mary, or one of my brothers. You don't start shit unless you're ready to come suited up and ready for war. They knew what the fuck they were doing.