Glitch is dying to crash the girls’ card game. I keep him busy by making stops at all the locales where prostitutes do their business. The last place is a dump called the Lily Fountain Trailer Park. The prostitutes we provide protection to control one side of the park while the elderly religious zealots run the other end. In the middle are people who apparently don’t believe in taking their trash to the dumpster.

“I hate this place,” Glitch grumbles as we step over torn bags of trash on our way out of the place. “Let’s go to the Rusty Cage.”

Smirking at his enthusiasm, I shake my head. “What do you hope will happen if we crash their card game?”

“I can check out the foxy babes.”

“Any particular babe you’re interested in seeing most?”

“Clove is an exotic fox, and I can tell she’s fucking blazing hot for me. I oughta give her a chance to see me up close and personal.”

“You might be reading the situation wrong, man.”

“Nope. The first time she saw me, Clove was dumb-fucking-struck. Just stood there, unable to speak. I don’t blame her. Our connection was some powerful shit.”

I struggle not to laugh at Glitch. The fucker clearly believes his bullshit, but it is bullshit. Clove has never shown even the least bit of interest in him. I even suspect she’s into chicks and wouldn’t be surprised if her heart belongs to Ginger. I don’t share this suspicion with Glitch since kicking the guy in the love-swollen balls isn’t my thing. Reality will hit him in the crotch eventually, probably in the form of Clove’s foot.

We arrive at Rusty Cage to find Blackjack at the bar with his head on the counter. The doors to the backroom remain closed, but I can feel Ginger nearby. I haven’t seen her since I spent a few hours thrusting into her body in her bedroom at the not-yet-ready townhome. We parted ways around midnight after I drove her home.

Now she’s feet away, probably looking smoking hot and aching for me to return to her pussy.

“Crying in front of civilians is bad for our image,” I tell Blackjack after ordering a beer.

Blackjack lifts his head long enough to shoot me a fearsome dirty look. “Fuck off.”

“Why are you crying?” Glitch asks with bullshit sincerity.

“Killing women is off the menu.”

“Did the Everything Nice foxes bully you?” I ask, already laughing at the thought.

“Jessica let loose a bunch of raccoons at my place. How the bitch got hold of them is beyond me, but they tore my fucking place up.”

Glitch bursts out laughing, but I have an idea on how to deal with Blackjack’s long-standing “Jessica” problem.

“First, bud, her name is Annie, and I don’t know why you can’t remember that. Second, while we do have a policy against fucking up women, we’re tight with a few chicks who do not have a problem fucking up anyone.”

“I doubt they’d fuck up kids,” Glitch says. “Probably wouldn’t want to fuck up old people. Disabled people too.”

“Yeah, thanks,” I tell Glitch who winks at my irritated expression. “If you asked nicely, I bet one of them will handle your Annie problem.”

Blackjack shakes his head. “I don’t want to owe those women anything.”

“Then have fun with Annie and your raccoon roommates.”

I walk away from a cussing Blackjack. Right behind me, Glitch keeps pace. The fucker is nearly salivating over seeing Clove. I hope she’s the one watching Duffy tonight, so I can avoid suffering grief over his insane horniness.

I give the backroom doors a knock before opening them. The girls still pull their guns at us and keep them pointed long after Ginger nods hello.

“Is this your sexual fantasy?” I ask when the others keep their guns leveled at me. “I’m your captive slave, and they watch you ravage my hot bod.”

Ginger sets down her gun, picks up a cigar, and walks to me. “I knew you’d break up the party. Boys are so predictable,” she murmurs and puffs smoke in my face.

“I’m only here long enough to get you horny enough to call me later.”

I tug her to me, take the cigar from her fingers before planting a kiss on her smiling lips.

“I can’t tell if I should heckle or not?” Cayenne says to Bay.

“The answer is yes,” Bay replies when Ginger deepens the kiss. “Very much so, yes.”

Once our lips part, I take a puff of the cigar and blow the smoke above her head. “This is the polite way to do that,” I murmur, “rather than in the face.”

“Thanks for the lesson, Daddy.”

“Don’t.”

“Will you punish me later, Daddy?” she asks, taking the cigar. “Do I deserve a spanking for being a bad girl?”

Adjusting the crotch of my jeans, I give her pretty face an ugly frown. “You know that shit grosses me out.”

“I know, but your discomfort is adorable, and I’ve gotten addicted to the payoff.”

“Leave the man alone, you pervert,” Cayenne says with a Cuban between her lips.

Ginger smiles at her friend and shrugs. “The crowd has spoken.”

“No,” Clove announces from nearby, and I realize Glitch is bugging her. “Not even if you let me cut it off and fry it afterward.”

I look at Ginger and roll my eyes. She shows no reaction to my gesture or Clove sticking a gun in Glitch’s face.

“Don’t make me blow off your pretty face,” Clove says, and Glitch grins at me.

“Told you that she wanted a piece.”

Satisfied with her compliment about his pretty face, my club brother struts out of the backroom. The women all look to me as if I own his brain.

“Glitch can be difficult to understand. Maybe you misheard what he said,” I offer.

Clove shrugs and removes the cigar from her lips. “I thought he asked if I wanted to replace my cigar with his dick, but I guess he might have been asking something totally unrelated to blowjobs.”

“No, that was probably what he said, but he meant it as a compliment. Glitch is real particular about whose mouth gets near his dick.”

“Tell him to stop complimenting me,” she says and returns the cigar to her lips. “My ego is big enough.”

“True dat,” Bay says and starts shuffling the cards. “Now get out.”

Ignoring Bay’s last comment, I focus on Ginger who checks my pockets for candy and smiles when she finds a Starburst. She even sticks her hand back into the pocket to give my dick a quick stroke.

“Thank you,” she whispers while unwrapping the candy. “You should leave, so we can enjoy our game.”

“What do you play for?”

“Bullets.”

Smirking, I lean down and kiss the tip of her nose. “Of course, you do. Enjoy your game and thanks for the cock grab.”

Ginger laughs at her friends’ horrified reactions and returns to her seat. “Thanks for dropping by, Oz.”

“Have fun, ladies.”

I shut the doors behind me, hearing them immediately start laughing and giving Ginger shit for the dick thing. Their trash talk sounds like when my boys and I throw a few back and start razzing each other.

As glad as I am that Ginger has her friends, I wish she were available for a quickie. Once she’s moved in, we’ll have somewhere to rut like animals whenever the urge strikes. Until then, I’m stuck with late night hookups or a raging hard-on with only my hand for relief. Though thinking of her calling me ‘Daddy,’ I’m able to kill much of my arousal. The chick is an ace at making me harder than a rock or softer than a limp noodle.