Desolate Souls (Forgotten Souls MC, #1) (11 page)

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Authors: Kira Johns

Tags: #Biker, #MC, #Romance, #Stripper, #Dark, #Gritty, #True Love, #Lost Love

BOOK: Desolate Souls (Forgotten Souls MC, #1)
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I spot Trix out of the corner of my eyes and inwardly cringe as she makes a beeline over to our table. The last thing I need tonight is to deal with her.

“Hey, baby!” The sound of her voice grates on my nerves, worse than fingernails on a fuckin’ chalkboard. “Did you come by to see me in action?” she purrs. “We can spend some time in one of the private rooms afterwards. You know, have a little fun.”

“Fuck off, Trix! We ain’t here to see your fuckin’ ass,” Deuce says, motioning for one of the waitresses to head over.

“And I wasn't talkin’ to you,
Deuce
. I was talkin’ to my man,” she sneers.

“I ain't your fuckin’ man Trix and never will be!” I’ve tried being nice and even diplomatic, but she is getting out of hand.

“You know you want me. I bet you can’t wait until I take that dick of yours and ride it hard. You'd like that, wouldn't you baby?”

“That’s it!” I shout, louder than I intended. “I ain't fuckin’ you! Made that mistake before and it ain’t happenin’ again. I’d rather sink my dick in a pile of fuckin’ shit before I’d ever stick it into that rank pussy of yours! Now move the fuck on or tonight will be your last night workin’ here. You feel me?”

Her bottom lip begins to quiver, her eyes filling with tears. “I hate you,” she mutters before storming off.

“Bout fuckin’ time,” Deuce mutters before roaring with laughter. “You ain’t kiddin’ about rank pussy. I can smell her from a mile away. Bet that girl has had every STD known to man.”

Shaking my head, I begin to laugh. “And you’d have a better chance of gettin’ off if you stuck your dick in the Grand Canyon. I’ve had some gaping pussies in my life, but hers is the worst. And her ass, don’t get me fuckin’ started.”

Our laughter is thunderous, almost drowning out the music playing in the background. The waitress drops off our drinks, looking at us like we’ve lost our minds but says nothing. Picking up my whiskey, my eyes wander to the stage, a very attractive blonde wrapping her legs around the pole.

“She’s got a nice rack,” Deuce comments, lifting the highball filled with scotch to his lips. “Too bad they're fake.”

I nod my head in agreement. It isn’t very often that you see a woman that is well endowed who doesn’t have implants, especially in a place like this. Big tits equals big money. “Speaking of tits, what happened to the redhead?” I ask, thinking about the audition I walked in on a few weeks before.

“She didn't make the cut,” he says, shrugging. “But she gives decent head.”

Shaking my head, my eyes dart towards the stage when Trix is announced. She comes on stage wearing a naughty nurse’s uniform. Within minutes, she has shred every bit of clothing and is working the pole like she does best. I’ll admit, watching what she can do on stage gets me fuckin’ hard, but there is no way I’m tappin’ that shit again.

“How’s it going, guys?” Paul asks, standing at the edge of our table.

“Not bad,” Deuce says, slamming his glass down. “You’re girl going on in a few?”

“Yeah, she’s on after Alexis,” he says, taking the seat across from us. “Just so you know, all the girls are available tonight.”

Deuce’s eyes narrow, his brow furrowing. “Even your girl?”

He shrugs. “She’ll cost you a little more than the others, but trust me, she’s worth it.”

“Thought she’d be off limits?” Deuce asks, his eyes flaring.

“Everything has a price, you know that. Trust me, she may cost you more but she’s worth every penny. Girl can deep throat better than a pro. And nothing is off limits,” he says, raising his brow. “Interested?” he asks, looking straight at Deuce.

“How much?” I ask, seeing the look on Deuce’s face. He’s pissed and about to come across the table at Paul.

“Two hundred for the room. She’ll take you both on for six,” he says, his gaze finding mine.

I look over at Deuce, who simply nods, before reaching for my wallet and pulling out eight hundred in cash. “She better be worth it,” I add for good measure, tossing the bills towards him.

“Like I said, worth every penny and then some. I’ll set you up in the VIP room after her set,” he says, rising from the chair and disappearing into the crowd.

“He’s pimping her,” Deuce seethes. “The fucker is fuckin’ pimping her out!”

“Calm it down, brother. Maybe you've got it wrong,” I tell him, even though I know it’s doubtful. One of two things was happening tonight. Paul is either losing his job or Deuce and I are in for the time of our life.

––––––––

––––––––

“U
nderstand you booked a room,” Trix says, walking over to me with a smug look on her face. “I knew you couldn’t resist.”

“Shut up Trix,” I mutter, my eyes trained on the stage.

“I know you’ve got a room, and Deuce is in the john so it’s just you and me, Jax. Admit it, you want me. You and I are good together.”

“You are the last thing I want, Trix. And yeah I've got a room, but you won’t be setting foot inside it.”

“Who is it?” she demands, looking at me in disgust. “Melanie? Alexis?”

“She’s up next,” I tell her, hoping she gets the hint that I'm done with her.

“Alana?!” she shouts. “That fuckin’ bitch. First she steals my job and now my man. I’m gonna...”

“What did you just say?” I ask, grabbing her by the arm.

“I said she fuckin’ stole my position here and now you,” she says, looking down at my hand clamped onto her arm.

“Before that. What did you call her?” I must be hearing things.

“You don't even know what you’re paying for?” she jerks her arm free. “Alana’s a conniving bitch and she’s with Paul so you’re playin’ with fire. Hope he beats the piss out of you!” She storms off, angrier than I’ve ever seen.

Alana
. That name brings back so many memories, both good and bad. I haven't heard that name in so long yet it has the same effect on me it always has.

“Good, she hasn’t gone on yet,” Deuce says, taking a seat. “I’m telling you man, I hope you’re right and I've got this all wrong cause I really want to sink my dick in that sweetness.” I nod my head but mind is elsewhere. “You OK?” he asks, his voice filled with concern.

Shaking it off, I look over at my friend and brother. “Just thinkin’,” I admit, not going into any detail. A name shouldn't have this kind of effect on me.

“Well stop thinkin’” he says, motioning towards the stage.

Swallowing hard, I turn to see a gorgeous brunette take the stage, dressed as a naughty schoolgirl. Her hair falls in loose waves past her shoulders, in stark contrast to the white button down shirt that fits snugly across her large tits, stopping abruptly underneath them and tied in a makeshift knot. The red and black plaid skirt is short, accentuating her toned legs and tight ass. My cock hardens at the sight of her and she is still fully clothed. She bites her lip as she comes to the edge of the stage, moving her body in a way that makes my cock harden even more.

She removes her shirt first, tossing it to the floor, revealing a black and red lace bra underneath. My eyes are affixed to her tits as she works the pole, wrapping her leg around it and swinging slowly, revealing the matching thong underneath. When she reaches around and unzips her skirt, I involuntarily hold my breath, waiting impatiently for her to lower it. It drops to the floor and she steps out of it, moving to the beat of the music with ease.

The crowd is going wild around us, men hovering around the stage. She makes her way over, dropping to her knees, crawling the remainder of the distance, her eyes glazed over. It is then that I see her face clearly, in all its beauty. She is not only stunning, she is perfect in every single way. My eyes are locked on her, afraid that she is a hallucination and if I blink she will disappear.

When she rises again, she walks back over to the pole, reaching around and releasing the clasp to her bra, letting it glide off her silky skin. When she turns back to the crowd, her arm covers her tits and slowly, she moves it to the side, revealing one and then the other.

I watch her move with precision across the stage, ridding herself of the last piece of clothing until she is completely nude. I stare in awe as she exposes herself, her waxed pussy glistening under the lights. I have dreamed of seeing her this way for so long and now she is here, right in front of me.

When she finally leaves the stage, her image is still burned into my mind. My cock is straining relentlessly against my jeans, begging to be released.

“What’d I tell you?” Deuce says, sounding distant. “Hey, you still with me?”

“Huh?” I ask, turning my attention to him.

“I told you,” he says, smirking. “Still can’t get over the fact that she looks familiar. I’d never forget a body like that though.”

After a long moment of silence, I finally find the words. “You should recognize her,” I manage to choke out.

“I should?” he asks, still grinning at me. “How’s that? I promise you bro, if I tapped that, I wouldn’t forget, no matter how wasted I was.”

“She’s the reason we went to prison,” I mutter, almost under my breath.

His smile disappears as realization sets in. “You fuckin’ with me?”

Shaking my head, I look over at him stoically. “I wouldn’t fuck with you about something like this.”

Deuce looks over his shoulder at the stage she just abandoned and then back at me. “You’re sure?”

I nod. There is no way I will ever forget that face. “Alana,” I say her name, merely a breath on my lips.

I
am happy. There is no other word to describe what I am feeling. Life is simply amazing in this moment, and nothing can bring me down. Gone is all the self-hate, the misery and discontent I normally feel, being replaced with pure joy. Everything is intensified and pleasurable. And being on stage was beyond exhilarating. The music became a part of me, coming from within. I know the feeling will not last, but I am enjoying the ride while it’s there.

The door to the dressing room slams open, Paul entering, red faced and seething with anger. “What was that?” he demands, coming to stand beside me while I dress.

“What was what?” I ask, feigning ignorance. I knew he would see something was off, but I don’t care. For the first time, I went on stage without my heart pounding in my chest. There was no sick feeling in my stomach, no reliving my past, only pure joy and amazement.

“What did you take?” His voice is laced with an anger he has never directed towards me before. It should have an effect on me but it doesn’t. He grabs hold of my arm, jerking it sharply so that I am facing him.

“Why does it matter? The point is I feel good,” I argue.

“God damn it! What’d I tell you? Who gave it to you?!” he demands, his face inches from my own.

Jerking my arm free, I step back. “Just let it go,” I tell him.

“I have two men lined up for a private room and you’re telling me to let it go? Why would you do this Lana?”

“Because I can’t take it!” I finally say, my high dissipating rapidly. “Because every night I go out on that stage and degrade myself a little more. Because I do things that disgust me. Because I hate the person I am and what I am about to do. Alana Jacobs may have been destroyed a long time ago in a basement back in Langley but this... this is slowly killing what little part of her remains. And I do it, because the need to survive should outweigh my feelings, but it doesn’t. Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to end it all? How many times I’ve contemplated ending my sorry existence? But I don’t because I’m a fuckin’ coward!”

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