Trace

3 - Stuck on security!

Trace

Put on security of a fuckin’ titty bar like some goddamn street cop. This shi.t is fucke.d up.

Is this what I've been reduced to?

Watching whore.s to make sure they aren’t fuckin’ around with the dirty old geezer’s paying them to take their clothes off?

Pathetic.

It isn’t all bad, though. That little girl, Fallon, is worth the few hours I need to be here tonight. She’s a pretty little thing with dark hair, green eyes, long legs, big ass, she ain’t got massive tit.s, but they’re big enough to fit in my big hands. Not sure I like the idea of her stripping for this mob of bastards, though.

From what I know of the girl from the bitc.h who used to pimp these whore.s out, Fallon is the only girl here who doesn’t whor.e that perfect body of hers out. She strips like the others but never full-on nudity, just down to her panties.

I can’t deny that I’m looking forward to seeing her little show. She’s next on. The slut dancing on stage right now is doing fuc.k all for my dic.k. Damn whore.s, I’ve fucke.d a hundred bitche.s like her. Nothing but a hole to sink my coc.k in. I need fresh meat to catch my attention.

Turning back to the bar where I’m sitting, I snag a beer. “Baby girl’s up next,” I nod at the bartender while drinking my beer. “She’s a hot little thing.”

“You tapped it?” If he says yes, I’m gonna rip his throat out!

Why the fuc.k would I even contemplate that?

Because from the moment I laid eyes on Fallon, I wanted her. And what I want, I get. I don’t give a shi.t if she’s got some jackass at home. He’s irrelevant right now. I’ll fuc.k her and send her home to him completely ruined.

“You’re kiddin’, right? Baby girl don’t put out for no one. Wouldn’t be surprised if she was still a virgin.” Interesting. “Not sayin’ she’s all that innocent. From the way she shakes it up there...” He wants her; I can see it in his eyes.

Dream on, fucke.r.

Lights dim, music starts up, the beat drops, the spotlight blinds the stage, and the vixen standing with her head down has my full attention. She’s dressed like a little cowgirl, with a red checked shirt tied in a knot under her breasts, tiny little cut-off jean shorts, cowgirl boots, and a pink Stetson. Her legs are so smooth I can see the oil shining off them. Fuc.k.

Fallon works that stage like she fuckin’ owns it. Hooking those long legs over the chair she’s using as a prop like she’s straddling a guy. If I closed my eyes right now, I could imagine her straddling my lap, that little puss.y of hers sliding over my coc.k... Damn.

I can’t close my eyes, though, because I can’t tear them away from Fallon and the fact that she’s now shirtless and sliding those tiny shorts down her legs. Once they’re off, and I see her in those fuckin’ tiny panties – a thong no less, showing off that fantastic ass – my dic.k stiffens in my jeans.

A dirty old bastard yells for her to take it all off. She just smirks, reaches behind her, and drops that damn bra. Fuc.k, those tit.s are perfect, full, pert, and those pretty pink nipple.s all erect because of the thrill of people seeing her like this... Well, I’m gonna have to fuc.k something to relieve the pressure in my damn jeans!

The lights dim again, and she’s gone. Yet my eyes are stuck on the stage, her image still there in my mind’s eye, dancing and working the crowd with her incredible body. She was perfect and must have made a good couple of grand with the number of men throwing money at her.

This was Fallon’s test. Shepard wanted all the girls tested in every way tonight. Any of them have STI’s from the whoring they’ve been doing, and they’re fired. Any who are underage – doubtful – fired. Any on drugs are fired. Any that don’t bring in good money, fired.

These girls are a dime a dozen. Sure, we’ll have a few pissed-off customers tonight when the girls turn them down, but if they want to keep working, then they don’t have a choice. Drugs and prostitution aren’t our MC’s thing. The old boy has a big fuckin’ problem with it. He’s got daughters and granddaughters and wouldn’t want anything like that to happen to them. Shepard is a good man.

I look back sometimes and wonder where I’d be now had I gone through with my wedding to Willow, Prez’s eldest daughter.

Would her kids be mine?

We were together a couple years before she caught me cheating with a whor.e just like these here.

Hammer, Sergeant-At-Arms, almost knocked my fuckin’ teeth out. I deserved much worse. Willow had barely survived, nearly being killed, and there I was screwing around.

Why?

Because I was a cunt. Still am. No woman deserves an asshole like me.

Guess that’s why I’m still single.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved Will; in my own way, I did. But I knew the whole time we were together that she was in love with Hammer. She may not have said anything to confirm such, but it was evident from the way she looked at him.

That’s what pushed me away from her again and again. It isn’t an excuse for cheating, but I felt second best to a man who didn’t want her.

How was I supposed to feel when my woman would even call out Hammer’s name in her sleep?

Not good enough, that’s how.

Hammer’s girl, Willow’s best friend, was murdered, and it hurt them both in ways I couldn’t imagine. They got even closer, and... well, they’re now married and have been for the past few years. They’ve got two little boys, and they’re happy. Good for them.

I couldn’t give Willow what she needed. I may have asked her to marry me, but that was never what I wanted. I guess I just wanted to keep her with me because I was damn selfish. I let Willow go, and now she's happy. Good because she deserves everything wonderful in this world.

Marriage and kids aren’t for me. No, Sir. I can’t imagine being tied down to one woman. Put kids into the mix, and my life would be well and truly fucke.d!

Who the fuc.k would deserve a dad like me?

What terrible horrors could they have performed in a previous life?

Something horrifying, that’s for sure.

“You’re needed out back!” One of the strippers yells down my ear. The music is too loud for me to hear her otherwise.

She’s pretty and has tanned skin, tight curls, and a rocking body. I’d usually tap it, but I have one girl on my mind right now. I want her, and no one else is gonna be good enough.

“Tammy asked if you could hurry!”

Every member of the MC knows that when Tammy calls, you run.

A couple of years ago, Tammy, along with Elie, Wrench’s wife, was raped by a Prospect with the club. One who was just days away from being patched in. Red shot the motherfucke.r in the head, but Tammy had a nervous breakdown after the fact. It almost destroyed Red to see her like that.

He sent their young kids to stay with his sister while caring for the woman he loved. Red is ten years older than Tammy, but everyone swears they’re soulmates. Wherever he is, she’ll be there. The same goes for him. They never argue and seem to be able to read each other’s minds. I guess that’s true love.

It took Tammy a good few months to recover and the birth of her and Red’s third son to bring her back to us. Each brother swore an oath to protect the women of this club with his life. Too many Old Ladies have been lost in the past to cunts who find hurting women the easiest way to get to a man. Of course, it’s damn true.

That’s why I'm running like a madman to get to Tammy. Anything happens to her on my watch, and Red will literally kill me.

I see Tammy standing in the office doorway with her back to me. I grab her shoulders and swing her around to face me. I shouldn’t have done that because Tammy still panics, and her eyes are wide, but she breathes deeply when she sees it’s me.

I take her face in my hands in a panic. “I’m sorry for grabbing you.”

“It’s okay.” She whispers.

“You okay, sweetheart? What’s wrong? Did somebody touch you? Tell me who, and I’ll fuckin' kill them!” My words come out rushed and too close together. I’d be surprised if she understood half of what I just said.

Tammy laughs while holding my wrists. “I’m fine, Trace. Nobody touched me.” I let go of a massive breath in relief and kiss her forehead before letting her go. “I asked Ayesha to get you because Red’s about ten seconds away from putting a bullet in this guy’s head.”

I look at where she’s pointing. Red, who I didn't know was here, has a short, fat, balding guy pinned to the wall, blood pouring from his nose, and his eyes swollen. Typical Red.

“First night on the job and you’ve already roughed someone up, Red?”

He growls at me.

He does that when he’s pissed. Forty-eight years old, and he’s still the rabid animal Shepard warned me about when I joined the club.

“Son of a bitc.h went for my wife!” Great, there’s fuc.k all I can do to save fat man now. “Or I thought he did. I heard her scream as I walked through the back entrance. Came fuckin’ runnin’ as fast as I could, ready to kill whichever motherfucke.r thought he could put his hands on my wife. Found her tryin’ to pull this one of that little’un we got working here.”

Tammy mouths, “Fallon,” and my stomach muscles tighten.

This fat sack of shi.t attacked Fallon?

Fuc.k.

“Where is she?”

“I sent her home, Trace. She was badly shaken up.”

“What you wanna do about him?” Red asks while pressing his arm harder against fucker.s throat.

“Let me go! I wasn’t doin’ nothin’ to her!”

“You lying sack of shi.t!” I hit fat f**k so hard I hear his nose crunch. Bastard! He’s lucky I don’t blow his fuckin’ head off right here and right fuckin’ now.

“Do what you want with him, Red. I’m going to find Fallon. How long has she been gone, Tammy?”

“About a minute before you got here,” Good, she couldn’t have got far. “I told Fallon to wait for you to get here, but she was adamant that she didn’t want any fuss.”

I kiss Tammy’s head, tell her it’s okay, and then rush to search for Fallon. I don’t know why I feel this need inside of me to protect this girl, but it’s so fuckin’ strong it’s eating away at me. And it’s not just that; it’s the need to be inside of her, the need to taste her, touch her, consume her. I don’t even know anything about her, but I know I need to have her, even if it’s just once.

That’s all I ever need, just once.