THE SKIN of the stripper glistened, drops of sweat covering her body as she moved around the stage. She was limber and agile, holding onto the pole like it was her lifeline. Like it would keep her safe from the eyes staring back at her. As if it would stop the harm from someone following her home at night. If she strips, she must put out, right? Wrong.
She glanced at me often, licking her lips, grazing a hand over her breasts. Trying to get a reaction from me, she moved to the end of the stage where I sat in pervert’s row.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. It was the same game we played every week. I would go out with the boys, sit in pervert’s row, and ignore her advances. According to the guys, sitting at the back of the club meant we wouldn’t get noticed by the ladies at all. I swore at times I was friends with children. The stripper would flirt, and I would pretend to pay attention to her when I would rather be anywhere but there. Not that I didn’t find her attractive. She was beautiful, but in a plastic kind of way. If you went for that sort of thing then by all means have at it. But me? I liked my women real. Strong. Toned but curvy. Enough meat that I had something to hold onto when I was pounding into their tight body.
“Angel, my man, you gonna hit that?” My best friend for years, Dale Michaels, slurred his words, clapping a hand on my shoulder. He was hard as motherfucking nails, but get alcohol in him and he turned into a horny teenager.
It was the same shit, different day with him. The stripper would flirt. I would turn her down. And Dale would jump all over it. Same fucking thing every single damn day of my life. I needed a change. With me. With life in general. God, I needed a do-over.
I shook my head and watched him jump to his feet.
The stripper grinned when she stepped off the stage and walked right into his arms. Her gaze flashed my way like it always did, but that time, it held something different. Darkened with sadness. Disappointment? I wasn’t sure. Didn’t matter. I was getting too old for that shit. My dick needed something more than just a tight hole to fill. As much as I liked pussy, I was never satisfied.
Tilting back my beer, I took a swig, embracing the coolness of the carbonated liquid. It settled in the pit of my gut, sending a warmth over my skin. Two beers later and it still did nothing to mask the emptiness in my chest. The hole I needed to fix, filling it with something other than alcohol. A woman. A soft body wrapped around mine, opening to the deep thrusts—
“You alone, big guy?”
I glanced up at the smooth feminine voice. “No.” Lies. All lies. Rising to my feet, I threw a twenty on the table and popped the collar of my leather jacket. Ignoring the stares of the woman who was trying to get a piece from me, I made my way to the exit. It was the same routine I had followed for the past couple of weeks. Go to the strip club, drink a little, watch my friends get shitfaced, and leave. What a fucking way to live out my days.
Heading to my black SUV, I leaned my head from side to side. A slight twinge of pain slid down the length of my spine when the tendons popped and cracked. My palms tingled. Images of a woman arching beneath me as my hands smacked her rear swam into my mind like liquid honey. I craved the heat of flesh reddening under my touch. Blood rushed to the tip of my dick, straining against my pants. Adjusting myself, I bit back a hiss. Fuck, I needed to get laid.
My phone rang, interrupting my thoughts as I slid into my car. “Yeah.”
“We got some shit, Boss.”
I squeezed the bridge of my nose, mentally counting to ten. “What kind of shit?”
Asher Donovan inhaled a sharp breath. “Uh… Well, we’re at this motorcycle clubhouse, fixing the roof, and—”
“Clubhouse?” All I could picture was a fort in a tree or a box like we used to have when we were kids.
“Motorcycle club,” he added. “Anyway, the roof is crap, and we don’t have the supplies. But the president is adamant we get it fixed today.”
“How the hell is that supposed to happen if we don’t have the supplies?”
“I have no fucking idea.”
“I’m on my way,” I bit out through clenched teeth. I got the address from Asher and threw my phone on the seat beside me. Owning a construction company meant you were God and could get supplies just like that. Sure. Let me just pull them out of my ass. Please.
I punched the address into the GPS and saw I was about ten minutes away. Bracing myself for the onslaught of a miserable customer, I gripped the steering wheel tight. I was not in the mood to deal with grumpy employees or demanding—
Well, I’ll be damned. Pulling into the driveway of the clubhouse, I saw my crew on the roof, working away.
Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Rod’s Construction was in full force. “What’s going on?” I asked Asher when I slid out of the vehicle.
He gave a curt nod.
All of a sudden, something warm and soft smashed into my face, blinding me. Laughter erupted around me. The scent of vanilla and sugar wafted into my nostrils. I licked my lips, swallowing the sweetness. Cake. Fucking fuckers. “Assholes,” I growled.
Asher laughed. “Here’s a towel.”
I grabbed the fabric from him, wiping my face.
“Happy birthday, Boss.” Coby Porter clapped a hand on my shoulder. “You needed to get out.”
“My birthday was a couple days ago.” I had hoped they forgot. “And I was at the strip club,” I said, cleaning myself up. “Why didn’t you fuckers come there?”
“Yeah. Because that would have worked.” Asher rolled his eyes. “You are the hardest person to celebrate a birthday with. Especially your own.”
I had my reasons. Birthdays left a bad taste in my mouth. They brought back memories I never wanted to relive. My heart started pounding hard against my rib cage, a cold sweat racing down my spine. A panic attack was getting ready to hit me full-force, but I breathed through it, taking control. Inhale. Exhale. I have this. I won’t let it win.
Asher raised an eyebrow. “You good, man?”
“Yup.” I threw the towel on the table. “So, the owners of this club never had any issues with the roof? All of the supplies are here and you losers made the whole thing up?”
They nodded, wicked grins spreading across their faces.
Of course. “Well, just for that, you guys get to work until this roof is done.”
That made the grins disappear.
“What? You can’t do that.”
“We were just playing.”
“Asshole.”
That last one was Dale. Fucker showed up in the middle of the cake toss. I bet it was his fucking idea. “Serves you all right for trying to shove my birthday down my throat.”
“Such a drama queen.” Dale punched my arm as he walked by me.
“So, was the stripper a ruse?” I asked, knowing the answer before he gave it.
He winked. “Just like your construction company is.”
“It’s not a ruse.” I rolled my eyes. “It keeps me busy when I’m not in the field. You guys don’t mind getting the paychecks, so stop your bitchin’.”
“I’m not bitchin’. It’s not often you get to smash cake into your boss’s face. And the stripper wasn’t an act. Besides, who can resist this?” He ran his hands down the length of his body, waggling his eyebrows.
Gag. And that was when I heard it. Laughter. Husky and melodious. Full-bellied and filled with life, not caring in the least if anyone was nearby. The laughter turned into a snort, and it was the cutest fucking thing I ever had the pleasure of listening to. It graced my ears like music to my fucking soul.
Female voices sounded, but I couldn’t make out what was being said. Finding myself wanting more of her laugh, I made my way toward the chatter. Hiding behind my SUV, I leaned against the driver door and crossed my arms under my chest and listened.
“Girl, I am ready.” A woman laughed.
The tiny hairs on my body vibrated. My dick hardened, jumping to attention. She was the owner of the husky laugh. Speak. Talk more.
“Ready for what?” another woman asked.
“To be ravished.”
My back stiffened, arousal hitting me square in the nuts. Well now, this conversation could be interesting. I shouldn’t be eavesdropping… Fuck it.
“Didn’t that happen last night?”
A soft growl left my lips. My eyes narrowed.
“Please, girl. That was nothing. He was a pussy. A pushover. He… God, he sucked.”
“And not in a good way?”
“Ha,” the sexy-voiced woman scoffed. “No. I want a man that has no problems telling me what they want. What they need. I want them to crave me. Why do these guys feel the need to ask me for permission before fucking me?”
“Because they’re being polite?”
“That’s not what I mean. I want a man to throw me up against the wall, kiss the hell out of me, and demand me to beg. I want him to fuck his way into my body like he needs me to live.” She sighed, and I was becoming hard as a fucking rock.
“I think most women would love that, but this isn’t a romance book. This is real life, honey.”
“I know there is a man out there who would have no problems demanding me to my knees.”
“Yeah, because you would listen,” the other woman teased.
She chuckled. “If the right guy came along, I would. I’m not that scary.”
The other woman laughed along with her. “If you find this guy, ask him if he has a brother.”
I am that guy. And I do have a brother. Three of them, to be exact.
“Well, this guy does have brothers.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I’m making him up in my head, so he can be whatever I want him to be.”
And I would be whatever she wanted. Closing my eyes, I inhaled, memorizing her voice. When I opened them, a wicked grin spread along my face. I would give her everything she wanted. I would rip her open, destroying her body and molding it into what I wanted. Before I even saw her, I wanted her. Her voice pierced straight through me, igniting a passion I had never felt.
“And how do you plan on meeting this guy?”
At that point, the two women rounded the corner, heading toward the crew.
My dick jumped in my jeans at the view before me. The woman, who I guessed was the one dreaming up the perfect man, peered over her shoulder.
Her mouth parted, her eyes darkening. She licked her full lips, giving her head a little shake, and started spouting off orders to Asher.
I couldn’t focus on her words as I gazed down the length of her body. A white tank top was snug against her torso, enhancing her full breasts. But what I noticed the most was the skin-tight, black, leather pants that hugged her curves. Her round, heart-shaped ass, no doubt firm, would be perfect in my hands. Her pale skin would redden under my touch. Her flesh bruising as I impaled her body with a roughness I craved. Knee-high shitkickers adorned her feet, and fuck me if she wasn’t the hottest thing I had ever seen. Her long red hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, and I knew without a doubt she could kick my ass. I wondered how hard she trained. Images of us working out together, sweaty and spent, flowed into my mind.
When my gaze slid back up her body, our eyes locked.
Her brows narrowed.
And then she did the unexpected. She walked up to me, her hands on her hips. She was tall for a woman. Still shorter than my 6’5 but tall enough that I didn’t feel like a giant.
“You got a problem, asshole?” she demanded, her lips pressing together in a firm line.
The corners of my lips twitched. Oh yeah. This will be fun. “Not yet I don’t.”
“My eyes are in my fucking head. Stop staring at my ass,” she bit out, shoving a finger in my chest.
“Well, then you shouldn’t wear tight as hell pants if you don’t want anyone looking at your beautiful ass.”
Her cheeks reddened at the compliment.
Gotcha.
“Don’t compliment me. Don’t even talk to me,” she said between finger jabs.
I grabbed the hand that kept poking me in the chest and pulled her flush against me.
She gasped, her eyes widening at the abrupt movement.
Leaning down, I brushed my nose up the length of her neck and inhaled. Sweet perfume and a hint of something else filled my nose with a delicious scent. “You smell good, princess.”
Her back stiffened. “Don’t you dare call me that; I am not your princess.”
“Woman, you will be whatever I want you to be,” I snarled in her ear, giving it a gentle nip.
She shivered, arching her hips against mine.
“Now why don’t you go run along and go shopping or some shit while us men finish fixing the roof?”
“Fuck you, dick.”
I swallowed a laugh, knowing she was not the type of woman to go shopping or do any girly shit, for that matter. Pissing her off amused me more than it should. “Oh, I will.”
Her breath caught in her throat. She struggled against me, trying to pull from my grip, but my hold tightened.
“I will be the man you fantasize about. I will give your body what it craves.” I lowered my voice. “I will destroy you.”
“Yeah. Right. Have fun jacking off to me tonight.”
“Oh, little girl.” I turned my head, brushing my mouth along the soft spot under her ear. “I will have you on your knees, begging me to fuck you, and when I do, you’ll thank me.”
“Please,” she scoffed. “I don’t thank anyone for sex.”
I grinned. “That’s because you’ve never been filled by my cock.”
A notable shiver trembled through her, and she pushed away from me. She flipped me off and walked back to her friend, hooking her arm in the other woman’s.
I watched her leave. Her cheeks were mottled pink. Her neck flushed. Oh, I would have her. And I would fucking make her break. She was the something I needed. I knew it before I saw her. She would thank me; I would make damn sure of it. The Alpha inside of me that had been dormant for so long rose to the challenge. That woman stirred a piece of me I had never felt before. Her shutting me down turned me on even more.
This is going to be one hell of a power play.