Saving Dallas Forever (23 page)

“Yeah? Well what you gonna do about it combat boots?” the girl shouted into the microphone, earning her a round of ooohs from everyone in the club, including myself. Katina shot me a warning with her eyes and I shut up, grabbing another drink off of a waiter’s tray. When he started to protest, I informed him I was VI-mothafuckin’-P. He walked off with a shake of his head. I guess I told him.

“That’s it!”Maddie yelled, standing on our table and hushing the crowd with just her voice. “Red, get on the stage,” she commanded, without making eye contact with her.

“Maddie!” Red snapped, in a hushed voice.

“What? You’re our only shot!” Maddie replied, stepping down from the table as we all leaned in, while Maddie gave Red a pep talk. “Do you really want us to look like fools?”

“No.” Red said, her voice defeated. The amount of liquor we had consumed was absurd, impairing our judgment, and making all of us act completely out of our norm.

“Where is that fiery red-head we all love?” Katina asked, ignoring the impatient crowd as they all stood fist-pumping the air, and chanting.

“Red, baby,” Brooklyn said, handing Red a shot and putting her arm around her shoulders. I waited for Brooklyn to give Red the reassuring speech I knew she needed as Red eyed her thankfully, assuming Brooklyn understood why she chose not to dance.  “Get your fucking ass on that stage.” Well, so much for reassurance and understanding. I was so ‘Team Brooklyn’ as I nodded, agreeing with her demand.

“If you don’t, I’m gonna stomp that bitch to death with my boots,” Punkin added, propping her foot on the table and revealing her black boots, which were laced up her ankles.

“Red, Red, Red, Red,” Mary began to chant, and soon the entire bar was calling Red out.

“I fucking hate y’all.” We cheered, as Red downed the shot Brooklyn handed her and made her way backstage. I clambered up on the table in front of our booth, using Brooklyn’s shoulder to hold me up. Once I was up there and steady, she and Maddie joined me, while Katelyn, Katina, Mary, Punkin, and Chi Chi stood on the booth behind us.

“Look behind you,” Maddie said, signaling toward the door with her head. I turned to see the Devil’s Renegades standing at the door, looking intimidating as hell with their arms crossed and faces serious. I frowned when I looked at Luke, hoping he wasn’t mad at me for being so drunk. I mean, it was my birthday after all. When his eyes found mine, he gave me a wink and a smile, and as I lifted my arms to give him a little dance and show off my dress, I lost my balance and nearly fell off the table, taking Brooklyn with me. It took every ol’ lady in our group to steady us back in position, and when I looked up again, all of the men were fighting hard not to laugh. All but Regg, who stood directly behind us looking nervous as hell. I was not the only one looking at the hot bikers lining the back wall. Every horny woman in there gaped at them with open mouths. There wasn’t a dry pair of panties in the house, and my sisters and I held smug smiles because we knew that it was us they would be going home with. Everyone cheered as Gabby, or so the announcer called her, took the stage wearing a black, leather vest and shorts. I booed her, alongside my sisters, before the music even started. When Nelly’s “Hot in Here” blasted through the speakers, I couldn’t help but dance to the music. Maddie grabbed my arm, and shook her head at me and I stopped, frowning as I watched Gabby work the stage like a pro. Everyone cheered, as she stripped down to her nude underwear and swung around the pole, smiling as if she knew she had already won. She never made it all the way up the pole, but made pretty good work of the part she used. Plus, that was a long way up there. It must just be for decoration. The strobe lights flashed around the room as everybody moved in tune with the music, while Gabby entertained the shit out of them. When the song concluded, ones were thrown on the stage and she sashayed off with her hips in full swing. I looked to Brooklyn, my lips pressed in a thin line.

“She was good,” I shouted in her ear, already accepting defeat. Brooklyn threw her head back and laughed at me, lighting a cigarette before she spoke.

“You ain’t seen shit, baby girl,” I dug my ones out of my dress, ready to throw them at Red to make her feel better, although the bitch hadn’t given me shit when I danced. But I hadn’t been in a competition, and it took a lot of guts to get on stage and dance against someone who actually knew what they were doing. The lights dimmed, and the strobes were turned off, as a single spotlight hit the center pole. The announcer welcomed Red to the stage and we screamed our asses off, waiting for the music to start. When it didn’t, we finally shut up. Once the room was quiet, a song began to play and I recognized it immediately. “Gorilla” by Bruno Mars was a slower tune, one that is sexy and sultry with a good tempo, and, after watching the music video, I had to agree that it was a great song to strip to. Red walked onto the stage in a red, satin, spaghetti-strap nightie that was super short, but covered her. Her long, red hair flowed down her back as she walked around the pole slowly, as if to get a feel for it. When the light caught her just right, I got a glimpse of her face. Her eyes were closed and it was as if she had tuned out everything, but her and the music. When she lifted her arms and swung around the pole, her short skirt fanning out around her, I thought she looked beautiful. The move didn’t require much skill, but Red did it with grace, and I was glad she was playing it safe. She twirled around and around, her legs stretching out into a split, until she sat on the stage in front of us, her head hung as her hands slid from the pole, down the sides of her neck, down her waist and over her thighs until they lay splayed on the stage in front of her. I thought she was quitting. I figured she had given it all in her one good move, and she had even surprised me with the splits thing. I gave her an E for effort and we would love her just the same. But Red’s timing was perfect, and just as the chorus started, her head snapped up and she became a vixen before our very eyes. I stood in awe, one hand holding onto Brooklyn’s shoulder for support, while the other held a fistful of money. Red drew herself up on her knees and began crawling toward us, as we all looked up at her speechless. Her gaze held that of someone who stood behind us and I didn’t have to guess who it was. I wanted to look, but I couldn’t peel my eyes away from the girl on the stage, who rolled onto her back, lifting her long, shapely legs in the air and crossing her ankles. Her arms splayed at her sides and her back arched off the stage, giving us a look at her face, which held emotions of pain and pleasure. The pole was positioned right between her legs, and her next move had her pulling herself to her feet for only a moment before she was climbing. Her ankles wrapped around the pole as she pulled herself up with her arms, then came back down on a slow twirl, her arms extended and her head dropped back, so that her hair hung freely. This time when she hit the stage, it was on the words “bang bang”, and that’s exactly what Red did.

“Fuck me,” Maddie muttered as Red did just that to the stage. My mouth hung open as she made love in front of a room full of viewers. Her face showed it, her moves showed it, and I was sure if the stage could talk he would ask for a cigarette. At some point during her escape from reality, Red became almost angry. Gone was the slow love-making, and in its place was raw, hardcore fucking. It was as if she was demanding more attention from her imaginary lover when her skilled moves became more aggressive as the song intensified. She took her frustration out on the long, silver pole, caressing it one moment then acting as if it had slapped
her the next. When she grabbed it and began climbing, locking her ankles and pulling herself up, causing the muscles in her arms to flex and really show her strength, I was expecting her to go halfway and then spin back down. What I didn’t expect was to have to hold tighter to Brooklyn, so as not to lose my balance, while my head leaned further back to watch as she made her way to the top, two stories up. Everyone held their breath, as Red let go with her hands, and fully extended her body, starting her descent upside down at a leisurely pace. When Red’s satin gown slid over her head and fell through the air, revealing her lacy black bra and matching black lace boy shorts, the crowd went wild. Her arms hung lifelessly in the air as she depended on her crossed ankles and six inch stilettos, which were wrapped around the pole, to keep her from falling on her head. Before she hit the bottom, her hands found the pole once again as she unlocked her ankles and flipped, landing on her feet. She walked across the stage, her legs crossing in front of one another, as she lifted her finger, pointed over my head and lip-synced the words “you and me baby we be fucking like gorillas”, before throwing her head back and hitting her knees. All the emotions that were heard in the lyrics were felt by Red, as her fists knotted in her hair for a moment before she released it to rub her hands suggestively down her body, her eyes never leaving Regg’s. She stood and walked back to the pole, taking one last walk around it, just as she had when she had first come out, before posing beside it as the song came to an end. Everyone screamed and money littered the stage, while Red stood breathing hard, her focus on her man not faltering, even in all the commotion. Regg walked in front of us, and Red met him at the edge of the stage. He lifted her from it and every word that wasn’t spoken was heard loud and clear. When they shared a kiss so sweet it made all our hearts melt, I was afraid the moment would call for all of us wanting to abandon one another to be with our men. But trust Punkin to ruin it, and get us back on track.

“I thought Red was a dancer,” I said to her, as she joined me on the table where I now stood alone. She handed me a shot then leaned in close, so she could be heard over the crowd.

“Hell naw. She was a stripper. Hey, can I tell you a secret?” Punkin asked, her face serious as she chewed on her lip. I gave her a smile and put my hand on her shoulder in reassurance.

“Of course.”

“I’m not sure, but I think I just cum.” 

Chapter 22

Dallas

“But I wanna ride with you,” I whined to Luke, as I jumped in his arms and wrapped my legs around him.

“Babe, you ain’t riding with me in that fuckin’ dress,” Luke said, with a laugh. He had retrieved me from the table I had been standing on and him, along with the other guys, had led us out of the crowded bar and to the parking lot. He sat me down, having to pry me from around his waist, and kept a firm hold on me until my wobbly legs finally managed to hold me up. I looked around the parking lot to find Mary and Katina in their own little world, as they attempted to re-enact Red’s performance.

“Get in the damned car,” Big Al said, holding the door open for Mary, who stopped to grind against him before entering. He rolled his eyes and looked at Luke, not hiding his impatience. “I’ve already held her hair once this week, while she puked her fucking guts up. I ain’t doin that shit again.” Luke’s body shook with laughter, as he turned me toward the car to climb in behind Mary.

“Yeah, fuck you will,” he said, leading Big Al to laugh in agreement.

The door was closed and we were all crammed in, our dresses now soiled with liquor and sweat, and not one of us giving a single fuck about the way we looked. Katelyn got behind the wheel, and looked in the rearview mirror to get a headcount. Brooklyn sat in the front seat, while Punkin and Katina claimed the two captain chairs in the middle, and Mary, Chi Chi, Red and Maddie sat on the third row bench seat, leaving me on my knees on the floor between Punkin and Katina.

“Give us some music Katelyn,” I said, as she pulled into traffic. I held tight onto the arm rests beside me, trying to keep from falling over as she took a sharp right and gassed it. “And slow the fuck down. You tryin’ to kill me?” Everyone was talking at once, and I was trying to listen in, but Punkin held my attention as she slid a bottle of birthday cake vodka from her purse, which looked more like a diaper bag. There was no telling what was in there and if I were to find out, it would probably make me an accessory to a crime.

“Happy birthday honey,” she said, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes becoming even more visible, as her smile stretched across her face. “We didn’t get you a cake, so I stole this from the bar. Brooklyn helped by distracting Greg while I slipped back there and got it.” I had never been more proud to have such skilled thieves as sisters.

“Awe! Thanks guys!” I said, hugging Punkin then leaning to the front to give Brooklyn a kiss on her cheek, as I clutched the bottle of vodka tightly to myself.

“Open it up!” Katina demanded, sitting on the edge of her seat and steadying me, as I struggled to get the lid off. I took a pull then passed it around, until everyone had a drink.

“Music Katelyn!” I reminded our very nervous driver, who was trying very hard to pay attention to the road instead of what was going on behind her. She hit the preset station for rap and hip-hop on her satellite radio, and YG’s “My Nigga My Nigga” boomed through the speakers. “I fuckin’ love this song!” I shouted, fighting for my voice to be heard over the carload of singing women. Everyone danced and sang along, even Punkin sat bobbing her head to the music. The song was our own testimonial to each other. We would ride for each other, die for each other, and wouldn’t go in and leave one behind to fend for themselves. We were a team, and through the song lyrics, we let each other know it. When the song ended, Chi Chi hollered from the back for Katelyn to turn down the music.

“Okay, I got a question,” Chi Chi said, as soon as the volume was muted. I lifted the armrest on Punkin’s chair and she scooted over to accommodate me, so I could look at Chi Chi, who was obviously about to ask something important. “Did Luke really spank you?” the silence was deafening as everyone waited for my response.

“Yeah that motherfucker spanked me. I couldn’t sit on my ass for the rest of the day.” I grumbled, just the reminder of the way it had felt giving me chills. The laughter in the car rattled the windows, as I opened the vodka to take another drink.

“That’s fucking crazy!” Mary said, her voice telling me that she didn’t really believe my words.

“Well, it happened. He took off his belt, bent me over my own fucking desk, and spanked me,” I said, fighting to keep my balance.

“Hell, he could spank me,” Brooklyn chimed in from the front. I shook my head vigorously, my eyes growing wide and serious.

“Don’t say that, Brooklyn. It was bad.” She nearly expired at the seriousness of my tone. “Go ahead, bitches. Laugh it up. But there ain’t nothing funny about gettin' a whippin’.”

“So what did you do?” Chi Chi managed to ask through her laughter.

“I fucking cried!” I answered, finding that they were getting too much enjoyment out of my story, as I watched tears of laughter fall down their faces.

“No,” Chi Chi said, shaking her head, her words hard to understand, due to her laughter. And my current state. “I mean, what did you do for him to spank you?” I sobered somewhat at her comment, the laughter dying as everyone took in my face of regret.

“I’ll tell you what she done,” Maddie offered. My spirit fell at her words. I had not planned to tell them about my trip to see Charlie. That would be something they would all have a hard time forgiving me for. “She stripped for him.” Everyone laughed and the crisis was averted. She shot me a wink, and I mouthed a silent thank you to her. The party continued until the vodka was gone, and we were back home safely. 

“My head is killing me,” I mumbled into my pillow, as I buried my face deep inside it to keep the sunlight out of my eyes. “Please turn off the light.” I didn’t even know if Luke was in the room, but if he was, I hope he heard my plea.

“Light’s out babe, but I can’t prevent the sun from rising,” Luke said, his voice coming out refreshed and awake.

“You haven’t even tried,” I complained, knowing it was impossible, but just wishing he would do something to make my headache go the fuck away.

“Why don’t you come shower with me?” Luke asked, running his hand up the back of my thigh and under my panties. I didn’t respond and he kept rubbing, massaging, and kneading my ass, thighs, and calves.

“Oh shit that feels good,” I moaned into my pillow, as he took my foot in his hands and began applying deep pressure with his thumbs. My heels looked killer last night, but I was paying for it today. I squeezed my eyes shut before lifting my head to flip my pillow. The cool material against my warm, clammy cheek along with Luke’s skilled hands massaging my feet was pure bliss. I lay there lifeless, allowing him to cater to me as if I were a queen and him a peasant. The only acknowledgement I gave to reassure him I was alive was a grunt or a moan every now and then. When his hands left my body, after about twenty minutes of pleasuring it, I grumbled in complaint. I knew it was a bitch thing for me to do, but it was the day after my birthday, that should count for something.

“Okay, babe. Come on and get up. It’s already two in the afternoon and the guys are gonna want to leave around five.” Two o’clock? Had I really slept that long? I thought back to last night and remembered that once we had gotten back to the clubhouse, it was already after three in the morning and I didn’t pass out until around five. Shit. It would take me forever to get back on a normal schedule.

“I can’t, Luke,” I whined, earning me an exasperated sigh from my man, who I was sure looked sexy as fuck this morning.

“Babe,” Luke started, but I cut him off.

“My head hurts too bad. I can’t even open my eyes. That sunlight is blinding.” I felt Luke’s arm around my waist as his hand came between my face and the pillow, covering my eyes. He assisted me out of bed, pulling my back to his front when I was on my feet, and guided me to the bathroom with his hand still securely over my eyes. Once we were in the bathroom and the door was closed behind us, Luke released his hand. The only light came from a nightlight that served as a scent warmer, and which cast a very dim glow around the room. My eyes would adjust eventually and it would be perfect, just like Luke.

“Better babe?” he asked, gathering my wild hair into his hands, and holding it up off my neck. 

“Much better. You’re perfect.” He kissed the back of my neck, before releasing my hair and turning me to face him.

“You, Miss Knox, are wearing entirely too many clothes.” I looked down at my thin, tank top, which barely covered my navel and the small scrap of black panties I wore. Luke must have removed my dress because last I remembered, I had still had it on. He grabbed the hem of my shirt and I lifted my arms over my head, allowing him to rid me of my clothes. He then hooked his thumbs into my panties, dropping down on one knee as he slid them down my legs. Once I was completely naked, I expected him to lead me into the shower. What I didn’t expect was for him to
bury his face between my legs, sending my nerve endings into a frenzy, as his tongue began its slow torture in circular movements around my clit. My body jerked in response to his touch, and my hands flew to his hair, which was now long enough for me to pull.

“Fuck!” I let out breathlessly, my headache forgotten and my mind focused on nothing but the way his mouth felt as he kissed, licked, sucked and blew his cool breath on my warm, aching center. He knew just the right places to tease me, prolonging the inevitable. I knew a mind-blowing orgasm was in my near future, but he stopped the moment my climax started to build, applying lighter pressure and moving his mouth to accommodate a different part of my sensitive flesh. I wasn’t sure if he was preparing me for something more, making sure I was wet, ready and full of need before he gave me his thick cock, which I knew was hard and anxious to be inside me, or if he was teasing me only to shatter me to pieces and watch me fall apart, as he worked me to my full potential before allowing me to come all over his beautifully wicked mouth. My knees went weak as my fingers dug deeper into his scalp, earning a shocking, electrifying sensation as he placed my throbbing clit between his teeth, giving it a slight nibble before releasing it to continue his torture. My moans and pleas for more echoed off the walls of the small bathroom and my fingers cramped from being knotted in his hair. My breathing was ragged and staccato, and my legs were trembling, the muscles begging for relief from the strain of holding me up when my body wanted to collapse. When I thought I could take no more, when I knew that if I didn’t get that release that I had come so close to, but was yet still so far away, he stood, bringing my legs around his waist with one hand while the other supported my back. I was carried from the bathroom, back to the fully lit room where we slept. My eyes squinted as they fought to adjust to the light, but when Luke laid me on my back and slid into me with ease, nothing else mattered.

“Baby, you feel so fuckin’ good,” he said, working me slowly with painstakingly deep thrusts. I admired his face, his lips slightly parted, coating my face in his cool, minty breath, his ocean-blue eyes shining even at half-mast, and the small furrow between his brows. The feel of Luke stretching me, burying himself completely inside me, slightly circling his hips as his body connected to mine on each drive, was soothing and delicious. But when he lifted my leg, pushing it so that my knee was in my chest, and his drives became forceful, pummeling, plunges the feeling inside me intensified. His pace quickened, the head of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside me, and escalating my senses to a new height. The position was almost painful, but the tiny ache I felt when he reached that peak inside me was overpowered by the astonishing sensation of all that was him. It wasn’t just the area deep inside me that sparked when he touched it, or the tingle I felt when he rubbed against that wonderful cluster of nerves as he rotated his hips. It was everything; the way his eyes closed as his emotions claimed his face when I squeezed him or moaned his name, the way his veins bulged in his neck to accommodate the blood that rushed through them to get to his rapidly beating heart. It was the tattoos on his arms and how they stretched across his massive biceps as they formed an intricate pattern all the way to his wrists. Or maybe it was the way the muscles in his stomach constricted, showing me those perfectly toned abs every time his body arched to deliver me that next plunge, which could be the one to send me into that orgasmic abeyance. Whatever was causing me that tingle in my gut, those butterflies in my stomach, and that fulfillment in my heart was because of one man. One man who I’d rather die than live without. One man who made days that were not even my birthday special for me. One man who I know I would go to the ends of the earth for, and one man I had given everything to. As I shattered into orgasm, my body pulsating and contracting around him, I held my eyes open so I could see that one man who made my life worth living. That one man who owned my heart and soul: Lucas Lorn Carmical.

I was showered, dressed, and holding my nose as I chugged the drink Brooklyn assured me could cure any hangover. It smelled like motor oil and fish guts, but at this point, I would try anything. Luke’s good afternoon love-making had cured me temporarily, but as the day progressed, the shit feeling I had had when I woke up returned. It was ten minutes after five and the guys were planning another night out. This time, we had been invited to ride along since we were going to Wawee’s, which was a local spot that the club often frequented. Of course, on the night we actually got to ride, the temperature decided to take a nosedive into the low forties. I was dressed as warm as my wardrobe allowed, wearing two pair of leggings, skinny jeans, thigh-high boots, three shirts, a leather jacket, and my cut. Chi Chi assisted me with my bandana, which was over my ears in an attempt to keep them warm. Southerners thought anything below sixty degrees was cold, so tonight was considered freezing to us, and our destination was about a thirty minute ride away. Doing the math, ninety miles an hour in forty-two degree weather equaled too fucking cold.