Hawk's Property: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 1) (43 page)

Wincing at the force of his touch, she nodded. What did she have to lose? Not having to strip for a bunch of sweaty, lecherous men was a dream come true. The possibility of moving out of her roach-infested shithole made her giddy. For once, she’d be in a nice, safe place and wouldn’t have to worry all the time about being evicted or attacked. Plus, the proposition sounded a hell of a lot better than the shit life she currently had. Maybe she’d finally be able to save enough money so she could get out of Denver and go somewhere quiet and respectable, pretending her past never existed.

“Sure, why not?”

He hugged her while he rubbed her dry slit. “You’re making me horny again, hon.”

As he groped her body, she sighed, fixing her eyes on the ceiling.

Three years later

Pinewood Springs, Colorado

“C
herri, I need
your ass out there waiting tables. Miranda called in sick, and we’re short tonight,” Emma, the club manager, said.

“What about my dance set?”

“I switched you to the last slot. You’ll be on in about two hours. You’re the only one who’s worth shit around here. You can dance
and
waitress. One of your tables will be the Insurgents.”

Her stomach lurched. “Can’t Liza take it? She likes catering to them.”

“They asked for you, and since they’re paying your salary and own the club, you fuckin’ do what they ask. Go on now. Get your ass out there, and be sure to wiggle it so you can get some big tips.”

Cherri peeked out from behind the curtains to take in the room. Yep, there he was, sitting at the front table, his jean-clad legs straddling the chair backwards. He wore a black vest with patches all over it; the left top side had a diamond-shaped 1% er patch, while the right side had one which read Sergeant-At-Arms and underneath it, his name,
Jax
. Tight across his muscular chest, his black t-shirt showed off his well-defined pecs and abs. His sandy brown hair was longer on the top and shorter on the sides in the style of a fauxhawk, and pierced eyebrows framed his hazel eyes. A full sleeve of tattoos decorated his right arm while his other bore various designs of skulls and daggers. He was handsome in a rugged way, his five o’clock shadow giving his face a hard edge. Staring intently at one of the dancers spreading her legs and running her red-tipped fingers over her slit, he leaned forward, his bulging biceps moving with him.

“Come on, Cherri. Get a move on! We got a full house,” Emma barked from behind her. Shutting the curtains, Cherri ran to her dressing room, threw on a turquoise t-shirt and a short skirt over her thong, and rushed out to the bar area.

Dream House was utter chaos that night, and she knew her feet would be blistered and sore from standing on her four-inch heels for too long. Even though she was aware she should be grateful to be alive and at the strip club, she was sick of everything. When she had learned she was primed to be the Mountainside Strangler’s next victim and had narrowly escaped a tortured death, she shuddered. If the Insurgents hadn’t come to the Deadly Demons’ clubhouse a couple of months before rescuing her, she’d be six-feet-under.

Choosing to work at Dream House hadn’t turned out so bad, and it was a lot better than waitressing at one of the Insurgents’ restaurants. She knew the MC wanted to keep her close because she knew a bit too much about what happened that early November morning at the Nomads’ clubhouse. What the MC didn’t get was she was happier than hell they had eliminated the pieces of shit who’d enslaved her. She’d never squeal, not in a hundred years, but these outlaw bikers didn’t trust her, so there she was shaking her ass once again at another strip club.

When she came up to the Insurgents table, her stomach felt queasy. The guys always made her go into panic mode, never knowing when one of them might touch her or, worse yet, force himself on her. So far, they’d contented themselves with just looking and making lewd comments, but she saw the way they fucked the club whores. It was like the whole club, including the women, just wanted to fuck all the time. It was disgusting.

“Come on over here, sweetness,” Jax said, looking at her with lust in his eyes.

She had avoided going over to his side, preferring to stand next to Chas and Axe, who were engrossed in watching the dancer play with her big tits.

“What do you want to drink?” she asked.

“I said to come on over by me. Now,” Jax growled, his boyish grin gone.

Cherri walked over to him, and his hand squeezed her butt through her skirt. She flinched. He laughed. “Why so jumpy, sweetness? You got a soft ass that is way too tempting.” He slipped his hand under her skirt, pinching her cheeks.

“Don’t do that! You don’t have the right to touch me.”

Anger flashed in his eyes. “Yeah, I do. Fuck, we own you. You’re Insurgents’ property, and I can do whatever the fuck I want.” He pulled her toward him.

“No one owns me. Do you get off on forcing yourself on women?”

Jax’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing into slits. “Don’t
ever
fucking say that to me again. I don’t have to force any bitch, got it?”

“Then leave me alone.” Cherri knew she should keep her mouth shut, but she couldn’t. For the past two months she had been with the Insurgents, Jax had been sniffing around her. She had to admit he was good-looking and sexy, but she had no interest in any man. Men wanted a woman for fucking, nothing more. She was
so
not into that. If she had to fuck, she expected to get paid well for it.

She knew Jax wanted into her pants real bad; he made it clear every time he looked at her with his desire-filled eyes. Whenever she was in the clubhouse or at the strip bar, he’d take every opportunity to brush against her, rubbing his firm chest against her small breasts. She hated the way her body would feel all funny, like a million butterflies were flying around inside her when their bodies touched in passing. She didn’t need the guy complicating her life, needing to stay focused on her goal of leaving the club and making a better life for herself. Jax was turning out to be a distracting nuisance.

Jax’s gaze raked her body, his hands in his lap. He threw her a half-grin. “Bring me a shot of Jack and a Corona, sweetness.”

She nodded, took the other members’ orders, and went to the bar. Returning with the drinks, she placed them in front of the bikers. Leaning across the table to give Jax his, she realized too late he had a full-frontal view of her breasts. Hearing his sharp intake of breath, her cheeks flushed as her blue eyes locked with his for a heartbeat. Turning away, she busied herself with the other tables. She didn’t like the intensity, the spark of connection that coursed through her body when their eyes met.

For the next hour, Cherri ran her ass off waiting tables, clearing glasses, and fending off advances from many of the patrons while trying her best to avoid getting any closer than necessary to Jax. When she came back to the Insurgents’ table to bring more drinks, he didn’t call her over to his side anymore. She was grateful, even though his eyes bored a hole into her each and every time she placed drinks in front of the bikers. It was downright unnerving.

As she stood by the bar waiting for her newest drink order, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Glancing sideways, she saw Emma. “Cherri, go ahead and get ready for your dance set. I can take over from here,” she said.

Cherri ran to the dressing rooms in the back of the bar, trying not to fall as she dodged the boxes of liquor and napkins littering the floor behind the stage curtains. Freshening her makeup, she teased and sprayed her shoulder-length, white-blonde hair. Her eyeliner and eye shadow made her blue eyes look like two ice cubes surrounded by black smoke. Cursing when her sheer thong sported a run, she replaced it with a silver-colored one, breathing heavily as she tried to get herself together before she was announced. After dusting iridescent glitter over her body, she pulled on a pink metallic short skirt, her heart-shaped ass peeking out from underneath it. The matching halter top fitted tightly over her small, round breasts. She slipped on her five-inch Lucite pumps, checked herself out in the full-length mirror, and waited for her cue to take the stage.

The stage was a decent size, not as big as some of the other strip clubs she had danced for. There were two poles on each side of the stage and a stainless-steel chair in the middle. Sometimes Cherri would use the pole, sometimes the chair, but mostly she liked to dance the old-fashioned way—no props or gimmicks, just relying on the rhythm of her body.

The lights dimmed, and the mist from the fog machine created a web around her and the stage. Throwing her head back, her long hair touched the top of her skirt. The clear, crystal-jeweled barbell dangling from her belly button caught the light, glimmering like chunks of diamonds. Buckcherry’s song, “Crazy Bitch”, filled the bar as Cherri moved her hips suggestively while licking her full lips slowly. She strutted around the stage swaying her hips, thrusting out her ass, and smooshing her breasts together. Lowering herself to the floor, she began a series of movements she was sure would make any man’s cock hard.

As she rolled her head in circles, her hair brushing against the floor, she saw all eyes on her. Some of the guys in the front row had their hands on their dicks as they watched her crawl forward and, leaning in to them, she almost touched her forehead against their oily ones. As she inched forward, her breasts bounced, spilling out of the confines of her halter. Straightening out, she rocked back on her knees, her glittering thong peeping out as her hands played with her breasts.

When she threw her head forward, she looked straight at Jax. He stared at her, his face tight, hands on the table. Even from where she was, she saw hunger in his eyes. Placing a finger in her mouth, she sucked it, dragging it out as her other hand grabbed her sex. Smiling seductively at him, she unhooked her halter and let her high, rounded breasts free. She liked teasing him, and on stage she felt safe; he could look at her but not touch. From the way he stared at her, his eyes crazed with desire, bulge aching to break free, she knew he wanted her. That was what she loved, the power she held over men with her body. When men were wild with lust, they’d do anything to stick their dick in her. That was where she had the control, and no one could take it from her. Amid all the shit she had in her life, knowing she had
some
power,
some
control, made her feel stronger.

She looped her fingers around the waistband of her skirt, pushing downward as she shimmied out of it. When she stood upright once more, the mist swirled around her, the lights glimmered, covering her like a shroud, and the glitter makeup on her body sparkled. Stroking her covered slit with her pink-tipped nails, she licked her lips as she spread her legs wide. Turning around, she bent over, looking at the entranced spectators between her legs. It was at that moment she watched Jax blow a kiss to her; a simple gesture which made her stomach flip-flop. The stage lights went out, and the audience applauded and cheered.

She exited the stage and went to her dressing room to get her robe. As she massaged her sore feet, she heard a shuffling sound behind her. Turning around, she saw Jax standing in the doorway, his eyes glinting with arousal.

“You outdid yourself tonight, sweetness,” he drawled.

“Got to pay the bills, you know?” She didn’t like him being there, in her space, so close to her. It made her uncomfortable, causing her heart to race, her temples to throb. She didn’t know why she had such a reaction to him because she never felt anything in a man’s presence except disgust. It was something about this biker that threw her off-kilter, made her think of her childhood dreams of happily-ever-after before they became distorted. She snorted, shaking her head to dispel her foolish thoughts.

Jax came up to her, his hands on her shoulders, pulling her close to him.

“What the fuck are you doing? I’m wiped out and want to get home. I don’t have time to fend you off, got it?”

“Shh, calm down, little one. You’re always fighting, trying to be so tough. Just relax and let things take us where they will.” He cupped her chin and brought his lips down on hers. It was a gentle kiss, like a brushstroke on canvas, and his tongue skimmed over her mouth. She instinctively leaned in closer to him, her mouth pliant under his. “You’ve got such kissable lips, sweetness,” he murmured against her mouth.

Counter to her reason, her body responded, but when he brought his hand up toward her breast, she shut down. She was no longer Cherri, exotic dancer at Dream House; she was a frightened young teen hiding under the stairs of her home. She jerked away from Jax, pushing him backward. “I told you I’m tired. I gotta go. Stop fuckin’ groping me.”

Looking surprised at the switch in her demeanor, he said, “What just happened? A couple of seconds ago, you loved it, and now you turned into a frigid bitch. What the fuck?”

Her ice blue eyes flashed with anger. “Why don’t you leave me alone? What the fuck is your problem? I’m not interested in you or
any
man. I have to do this shit for now, but my job description doesn’t include having one of the owners handle me. There are plenty of whores around here who’d love to suck your dick. Go to them and leave me the fuck alone.”

“That shit you were doing on stage was meant for me. If you don’t want the attention then don’t be such a cock tease. And watch your fuckin’ mouth when you talk to me. I don’t like bitches thinking they can say whatever the fuck they want.”

“Well, I don’t like assholes thinking they can paw me whenever the fuck they want, so I guess we’re even, aren’t we?”

Rage filled his eyes as he pitched toward her. She ducked out of his grasp, scooped up her clothes from the floor, and locked herself in the bathroom. The door vibrated as he slammed his fist on it, making the wood groan under the force of his strength.

“Your ass better
stay
in there. You fuckin’ need to learn respect, bitch!” he yelled.

“Give
me
respect and I’ll give it to
you
,” she replied as she put on her clothes.