The Club (18 page)

Roxanne

I’m well aware that I have fallen in love with a gangster and I have come to terms with it. Whether it is in this romantic, moonlit room of his castle, or the dark, sinister dungeon, I love this curiously flawed husband that was forced upon me. Maybe being his captive is the only way that we both know I’ll stay. All I know is that a major weight of responsibility has been lifted from my shoulders. My fairytale may not be what little girls are taught by well meaning mothers, but it is mine.

He presses his weight into my body and gently clamps his large hand around my neck.

“Pull those legs back. I want those fucking ankles as close to your ears as you can get them. I want to fuck my woman. I want to bury myself so deeply in you that we become one. I can’t get enough of you, girl.” He removes his hand from my neck to lift his upper torso, holding his weight up by the palms of his hands but never removing those coal black, intense eyes from mine. My body stretches to accommodate him and he fills me in ways that go far beyond any physical fuck. We are connected and though he isn’t the type of man I ever would have pictured myself ending up with, the heart wants what the heart wants.

“That’s it, baby girl, clamp down on your man’s cock.”

He moves his hips, filling me deeply and always rotating slowly on the exit. The man knows my body like no one else.

“Come for me, baby.”

He sends me over the edge, grinding down into me as if he desires to send a message of pain as well as pleasure, of dominance as well as ownership. I am his, he is mine, and we are one. We were birthed in the portals of time and made for each other. If I live to see eternity, I will never know another love like this—a love so intense that it physically hurts. Just the thought of us being ripped apart leaves a hole in my heart that I can physically feel. It leaves a gaping wound that can never be healed. I don’t like it and yet, I can’t escape it.

For the first time from the days of hearing fairytales that promised me
happily ever afters
, the raw knowledge of reality crashes down on me. Sometimes happily ever afters hurt…

“Don’t ever mistake my love for weakness. I. Will. Hurt. You.” His voice breaks through my thoughts, confirming what I already know to be true.

He searches my face, glaring into my eyes to see if the seriousness of his words is registering with me. He leans in and though he whispers in my ear, the malice in his softly spoken threat is unmistakable.

“I’ll whip your ass every time you get out of line, girl, and we both know you
will
get out of line!”

He whispers in my ear once again, “I want to hear that growl, girl. Come for me, baby.”

Over and over, he plays my body like a masterful puppeteer. Though I am not, nor will I ever be, a woman who submits to a man’s every whim, in this bedroom, my husband dominates my body like he owns it and I guess, in a way, he does. Sated, satisfied, and resigned to the fact that I am bonded to a killer, I drift off to sleep after a night of lovemaking with my prince of darkness.

I wake up in the morning to the sight of my husband’s glare. It’s almost as if he summoned me from a deep sleep with his stare alone.

Oh shit, Mr. Unpredictable is pissed.

“Go to the bathroom and get your ass showered, Roxanne!”

I wash my hair in the shower as I think of my plight. I probably understand my husband more than he understands himself. His mood swings and bouts of anger are often times due to his inner turmoil and he just doesn’t know it. Tony is all about control and emotions are the hardest thing to restrain or even regulate.

I am deep in thought when Antonio rips the shower curtain open.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

He grabs a handful of my hair and I immediately feel the moistening between my legs that his dominance stimulates in my body. My husband is as unpredictable as the sea and just as dangerous. He’s calm one moment and a raging storm of emotion the next.

I see his mouth form into a sadistic smile as he looks at me with knowing eyes. “My wife’s pussy gets soaking wet when I come around.”

My breathing becomes sporadic and I can feel the small tremors in my body as every nerve is alerted of my husband’s presence. My body never ceases to respond to the sensual fear he induces and his ability to know my motivations and intents. I have never been subjected to a man who is honestly interested in what makes me tick. This man is not only interested but obsessed with every move I make and every response I have. He is as unpredictable as the weather and he is my storm in waiting. Inside this man, who has mastered looking like he is in complete control, is a raging tsunami. This man—this conundrum—I am unable to piece together in a legitimate form of understanding wants to know every detail of my inner workings and I am flattered.

He pulls at my hair, growling into my ear, “Get your hands up over your head, now!”

I raise my arms up and eye him, trying to get a read on his mood as he slips his hand between my legs and seductively whispers, “Is your pussy wet?”

“Yes, you know it is.”

“You little wannabe runaway, your ass is collared, leashed, and kneeling at my feet. I own you!”

“Antonio, you are going to make me come if you don’t stop playing in the folds of my pussy.”

He continues what he is doing, never taking his eyes off of me. Those black, piercing eyes that hold so much passion and danger, they always mesmerize me.

“Ahhhh, ahh,” I moan out, pressing my body against the shower wall.

His lips crash down on my mouth as he enters me. His groans and whispers of how much he loves me escape his lips in between passionate kisses.

I will never tire of this man. He has taken the broken pieces of my heart and managed to piece them back together one by one. Though they are cracked and damaged, they are whole in a beautiful form of disarray and dysfunction. Though I am still fractured, I am no longer shattered. I am his, he is mine, and together, we are one…

Roxanne

      I wait until Antonio is gone before I sneak into his office and grab the key to his gun cabinet. I quietly unlock it and grab a tactical, pump action shotgun so I can practice my slide action abilities. I begin making my way down to the outdoor range when I hear Alexis running behind me and yelling my name.

“Roxanne, Roxanne…”

It sounds more like “Roxaaaaaaannnnne” due to her southern drawl. Maybe that is why the girl makes so much money. I never considered her accent to be a drawing card with the men. I come to the conclusion that it is an agglomeration of things bundled up in one big Barbie doll of a dancer that turns them on.

When she finally catches up to me, she’s completely out of breath. “Roxanne, you’re crazy. Listen… I got something to tell you.”

I turn, looking down at her four-inch heels, and just say one word, “Seriously?”

“Well, I had no idea you were going to be trudging through the dirt in cowboy boots with a gun or I would have dressed appropriately.”

I return her stare while she glares at me with her hand on her hip as if she is actually awaiting an answer. When she sees she isn’t going to get one she continues.

“Guess what? Tony is getting rid of that bitch, Anna.”

I pump the gun in a slide action manner and raise it to shoot at the target, which is a bale of hay with a bull’s eye on it.

“I can get rid of the bitch for him.”

She continues, ignoring my sarcasm.

“He called that man named Bucky who runs that club in Texas and gave her to him.”

“Did he put a bow on the bitch and giftwrap her?” I ask as I pull the trigger, making Alexis jump.

“Damn it, Roxanne, stop it. You’re scaring me.”

“You should be scared, very scared.”

“What is wrong with you?”

I turn to face her and take the ear defenders from my head. “What do you want me to say?”

“Aren’t you glad she’s leaving?”

“I’m glad Tony had enough sense to get rid of her before I kill her.”

We both look up when we see a dually truck drive in. I look up at the office window and I can vaguely see my husband standing in the window with his arms crossed over his chest, watching me.

“Come on, I want you to meet Bucky,” she giggles, pulling me by the arm.

We make our way back up to the castle and I eye the man standing before me. He is a long, lean 6’2” with shoulder length, blonde hair, stark blue eyes, and a smile that lights up a room.

“Well, aren’t you just the prettiest looking tomboy I’ve ever laid eyes on? Why you look just as cute as can be in those jeans and cowboy boots… and a gun to boot. You want to go with me too?”

I blow a piece of hair out of my eyes that has come loose from the ponytail I’m wearing. I strain my neck to look and study the cowboy before me.

“No Sir, I don’t… I’m trying to get as far away from that girl you came to get as I can before somebody gets hurt, or worse yet, killed.”

He lets out a belly laugh that causes me to smile.

“Alexis, go get Anna.” I hear Antonio Wayne’s voice cut through the air like razors.

“Gladly,” she mutters under her breath.

“And you…” he turns looking at me, “get that gun put back where it goes.”

I bounce towards the door and turn, eyeing Bucky, “It was nice to meet you, Sir.”

“It was real nice to meet you too, young lady.”

I make my way up the stairs as Anna is coming down and I can’t help but relish in the fear she has in her eyes at the sight of me with a gun. It serves the bitch right. She started it when she set her sights on my husband.

I grab the keys from Tony’s desk and put the shotgun back up in the gun safe. I make my way over to the large window and watch Bucky drive off with Anna already sidled up close beside him. This works for me; she gets the boss she so desperately wanted and I get to escape spending the rest of my life in prison for killing her…