Too Wild To Ride (Steel Veins MC Romance, #1) (8 page)

“Fucking cunt. Aight, come on. I'll take ya to the house mom. Ya gotta watch out for selfish bitches like her. They'll— Oh hold up, gotta search ya. You aint her pimp, right?” The bouncer patted Remy down.

“I look like a fucking pimp?” Remy's voice was razor sharp.

“Sorry, man. They make me ask.” The bouncer threw his hands up then turned his attention to me. I swallowed hard, if he looked in my bag he'd definitely spot the gun. “You nervous, huh? This your first dancing job?”

I managed a weak smile and nodded.

“Is' cool, relax. You'll do aight. A girl like you's gonna make a killing in here.” The bouncer smiled and motioned for me to walk in. He didn't even look at my bag. I exhaled. Everything about this made my skin crawl. What was I doing here?

Remy squeezed my hand lightly. Right away my nerves calmed a bit. I wasn't alone, he'd take care of me. I just had to trust him. I could do that. He placed a hand on my lower back and we followed the man in the black shirt.

An artificial freshener blanketed the air. It didn't replace the smells, it just created this noxious, sickly sweet cocktail that almost made me gag. The club's two circular stages were connected in the middle by a thick catwalk and surrounded by plush, shoulder-high, semi-circular chairs and round wooden tables. The walls were lined with dimly lit booths for the lap dances.

The bouncer took us to the DJ. He was a thin man with a button up shirt, rolled at the sleeves with a loose tie. He looked really young but I think he just had that kind of face. The bouncer was about to ask him a question, then saw who he was looking for and walked us over to a woman near the bar.

“Ginger, we got a new girl. This is— Whas' ya name, Angel?” The bouncer asked and Ginger, a tired woman in her mid thirties, raised an eyebrow at me. 

“Uh, Star,” I blurted. I hated being put on the spot. Was he asking for my stage name or my real name? Shit! I shouldn't have told them my
real
name anyways! I wasn't there for a fucking job, what was I thinking?

“Already got a Star. Pick another name,” Ginger replied callously, fishing beneath the bar for something.

“Huh?” They already had a Star? I was a little offended by that. My name wasn't a stripper name! Was it?

“I'll put you down as a Roxanne. We haven't had a Roxy in a while.” Ginger waved off the bouncer and started filling in the new hire paperwork, then slid the sheets over to me. “Alright, here you go. Just fill in the marked areas. We have an extra outfit if you need it. When you're done, go get dressed in the bathroom and talk to Jimmy. He's the DJ, he'll explain how all the fees work and set you up with a song. You lookin' to start tonight or you just gonna audition?”

I actually didn't know. Remy hadn't been all that forthcoming with the details up to this point. Fortunately he interjected before I had to answer.

“She wants to start tonight,” Remy said. I nodded in agreement. Remy pulled me into him for a kiss. It was abrupt but it was nice, even if he was only playing up the role of the supportive boyfriend. “Go get dressed
Roxy.
I'll wrap this up.” He slapped my playfully on the ass, turned away. “When's Gino coming in tonight? One of his old friends is swinging by.” His words got devoured by the music as I made my way to the changing room.

Just before I turned into the bathroom, I spotted Ginger throwing away all my paperwork as Remy unrolled a wad of money. Yeah, this place needed to be hooked up by someone. The bathroom was beyond disgusting. Everything was clean enough, but I was shocked that it was in such a state of disrepair. Two of the stalls didn't have doors, the mirror had words and symbols scratched into them, one of the overheard lights flickered, a few others were just out. There was a girl under one of the shower heads, cursing in Spanish. I think someone tossed a drink on her.

The girls barely noticed me as I shyly changed, unless it was to glare at me. I didn't know if it was the situation but they were all so intimidating. I had so many questions but I kept them to myself. A few girls would look me over, say something in a different language then laugh. It sucked, I hated it here. 

When I finished I went over to the DJ and had him just pick two songs for me. I honestly couldn't care less. The type of music wasn't going to make me any less nervous. There were already a good amount of men there but since I'd changed, the club really started to pick up. People flooded in.

I searched for Remy and couldn't find him.. Had he left me there like he did at the convenience store? Panic set in. I felt unbelievably vulnerable, to the point that I was short of breath and nauseous.

I was so... exposed. I smiled at a few of the girls that bothered to make eye contact with me, hoping that someone would come over and give some words of encouragement. It was painfully obvious that this was my first time. No one came over. I fought to keep my shaking under control with deep breaths.

This could've been a nightmare that I would've woken up from in cold sweats. It was on par with a dream about being late to class then realizing you were completely naked and the teacher was asking you to stand up and give a presentation.

Then the house music faded and Jimmy called the next dancers to the stage.

“Please welcome to the stage the delicious Roxy-liiiiiiicious! In her debut set here at Teeeeaseeeers!” Roxy-licious? You had to be fucking kidding me. What the fuck was that? Was that supposed to be me? And he didn't call anyone else up. This could not get any worse.

“That's you, get up there!” If Ginger hadn't physically shoved me toward the stage I would've been too afraid to move.

The blinding white of a spotlight trapped me like a tractor beam and pulled me on stage. The music started blasting. It felt like everyone's eyes were boring holes through me. Where I was chilly on the floor, up here I was melting. The men were hollering at me. It took all I could muster just to keep myself from collapsing in a sobbing wreck. Remy, where are you?

I couldn't believe that it was so much worse here than being on Muse's bar. I think because at Muse's I didn't have a choice. It was either dance or... whatever Top was going to do to me. It was a surprisingly easy decision to make. I was able to lose myself completely and let my survival instinct take over. I'd even tried to seduce Remy because I thought he
might
help me if I gave myself to him.

Here, though, it was completely different. I was being crushed by self-consciousness and embarrassment. I wasn't pretty enough. I couldn't dance right. My tits were too small. No one liked a girl with glasses. Everyone was yelling at me— the men, for me to strip, Ginger for me to move. I was paralyzed. It felt like I was dipped in hardening concrete.

Then I saw him.

“Oh thank God!” My stone encasement crumbled. Remy was by the payphone watching me the whole time. He'd just hung up, bought a beer off the waitress and was walking over to sit by the stage. He hadn't abandoned me after all. I might make it through this.

I felt better. Keeping as far away from the men watching as possible, I walked to the pole. Every one of them looked gross in such different ways. I found myself just kind of walking around and wiggling like I'd seen the other girls do. I certainly wasn't dancing, but the song was finally winding down so I figured it wouldn't matter.

I immediately turned to walk off the stage. I hadn't made one greasy dollar. Had I even gone near anyone I'm sure I would've, but I just needed to get the fuck out of there. I didn't make it a few steps before I saw Ginger pointing harshly at me. She mouthed that I had one more song before I could run away in shame. God, why wont this end?

“One more song” bled into the next and alone, exposed and embarrassed, I stood on the empty stage. Remy smiled and held up a dollar. He where it was fairly empty, I had to force myself not run over to him.
Save me from all this!

“I'm gonna lick you till your cunt falls off, let me see that pussy!” Another man followed me over and sat next to Remy. He was ogling and reaching for me like crazy. Remy looked around for security but they didn't care. Still, I knew he was trying to keep a low profile so I was willing to tolerate it if I had to. Apparently, Remy wasn't willing though. That dangerous look in his eyes always sent a shiver down my spine.

When the balding creep lunged for me, Remy clamped a hand around the man's balls and pushed him back into a seat. The man squeaked and squirmed, his face contorted grotesquely in pain. Tears came to his bulging eyes.

With his other hand, Remy slid a finger down my abdomen and snapped my thong around the dollar. Then he beckoned me with a curling finger. I leaned in closer, sparing a disgusted glance at the writhing man to Remy's right. The creep drooled, his eyes crossed. The pain he was feeling must've been maddening.

“Dance, just for me, Star. We're the only two people in this room.” Even close enough to feel the warmth of his breath, Remy's voice was drowned beneath the roar of the music and cheers. I didn't need the sound of his voice to consume his beautiful words. I carefully read every deliciously deliberate syllable off his sexy lips. It made my thighs quiver.

I stood back up and obliged.

Remy briefly turned his attention to the creep, he whispered something to the man. The creep emphatically nodded and emptied out all the cash in his wallet onto the stage, then started screaming out apologies to me. When his face turned an acceptable shade of green for Remy's liking, he let the man go. The man doubled over and tumbled to the floor on his knees, dry heaving. Eventually he found his footing and staggered away.

Everything else fell away. The men, the lights, the other dancers, all of it vanished. There was only Remy and a bass-line and I was wearing entirely too much clothing. My hips gyrated. My slender shoulders worked in smooth opposites. Dipping and grooving with the music, I untied and shrugged off  my top.

A slow twist showed him the long unclasping of my white bra. Over my shoulder I could see him there. Leaned back in his chair, he studied my every curve. I watched his eyes follow the cotton bra's tumble to the floor. Arms crossed, I turned back to face him. I slowly lowered into a forward split and splayed out on my stomach before him.

He leaned on the end of his curved seat, edging closer to me. A flip of my head cascaded dark hair atop him like water. When I raised my head, his dark eyes were upon me. They stole away my periphery. There were no frayed edges in my vision, just the thin panes of my glasses, him, and nothing else. I propped myself up and kissed him. Our tongues trespassed and intertwined. I didn't know or care what the club's rules about touching were.

When Remy pulled away, I hadn't realized it but my song was long over. I was kind of surprised no one told me to get off the stage. A round of applause went out and a modicum of my shyness returned. I hastened to cover myself. Then Jimmy introduced another batch of girls and everyone just continued on like nothing ever happened.

“So much for inconspicuous,” I whispered , embarrassed at the display. Remy had this hold over me that made my head swim. It was magic, like I was under his spell. I would've fucked him right there if he hadn't moved away.

“These people have short memories.” His eyes were still dangerous. I wanted him so badly, it made me ache. “We have some time to kill, I'll get us some drinks.”

I scooped up all the money from that creep and put my bra and shirt back on. Remy made his way back from the bar with a bottle of something. The guys, even the ones that had been talking to  dancers, took the time to pat Remy on the back or give him a thumbs up as he passed. The girls weren't too happy about that and glared at me. I certainly wasn't making any friends. Good. Fuck them.

“Fifty dollars says that you're mine for the next half hour.” Remy placed a ticket stub on the table.

“Just fifty?” I coyly acted disappointed. “Last time you gave me a hundred.”

“Then you're going to have to earn it.” He touched the icy bottle to the back of my thigh and spurred me forward. Fuck, that cold felt so good after those lights.

We walked upstairs, Remy gave the bouncer stationed there the ticket and an extra fifty. The man told us to have fun, then clinked the purple felted rope chain closed behind us, walking a little further down the stairs so he was out of eye-shot.

The “Private Dance rooms” were a wall of numbered, crushed red velvet, curtained-off holes. Remy brushed the faded cloth of one aside and we went in. The room was padded so I didn't feel bad about forcefully shoving him onto one of the pillowed benches that lined the wall. Residual music was still loud enough to dance to, so I dropped my purse and got started.

I stayed just outside of arms reach and danced, slowly peeling layers of clothing off.  His breathing became subtly heavier. He was hungry for every inch of smooth flesh I gave him. With every piece of clothing that fell I dared him. How bad did he want it? I wondered which of us would lose control first. “Come here,” my eyelashes called to him.

Remy hunched forward and tore off his button-up. No smile on his lips, just budding determination. It was written all over those strong tattooed arms. He would have me. It was spelled out on his every corded muscle.

Down to just bra, panties and heels I flicked open the button on his jeans and slid my hands up under his shirt. They climbed over every hard ridge and valley, through the course patch of his chest hair before, arms raised, he let me pull the shirt right off. I discarded it and poured over him, blanketing him with kisses.

I slid my thighs over his jeans and sat wide on his lap. My hands rubbed up along his ribs before plunging to his waist. He caught them both as I reached the metal treads of his zipper.

“I told you to work for it.” His deep voice shook me. My bound arms were jerked behind my back as he effortlessly pulled me closer. He bit me hard on the shoulder and ground my body into his. The pain skirted the cusp of too much. Worry and thrill raced throughout me.

It dawned on me that he really let me in. If we survive long enough, I'll bear witness to the heights of his potential and the depths of his depravity. What hidden depths was this man truly capable of? How well did I know Remy, really? When we fucked before it was in-the-moment. Raw. Death loomed just yards away. It was the desperation of a final embrace. Some warmth before the end.