Page 25 of What He Wants

I wanted to claim her.

She’d still been there when I’d come out of the bathroom, sound asleep and naked as the day she’d been born. Beautiful. Curvy. Still wet between the legs, the tiny strip of black hair covering her mound glistening and matted with her own cream. I’d wanted to fuck her without a condom, feel the pleasant slide of skin on skin. It was yet another red flag that I wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t need a woman, a girlfriend, or an old lady. Not a permanent one. Thinking about filling Daisy’s pussy up with my seed was a warning sign that I needed to be careful.

I’d covered her up with the sheet and left the room, locking the door behind me. She could get out, I just didn’t want anyone walking in on her. Once she was safe, I had shit to do. I’d grabbed Jumper and Clay and had taken off for Pleasure Me, a strip club that didn’t give a fuck who you were, money was money and they didn’t turn anyone away. It was common knowledge that they were neutral ground for bikers. Anyone could go there, but it didn’t mean that they could be trusted, or that it was safe there.

The three of us were sitting at a table against the wall with our backs to it. It was dark, and smelled like stale beer, cigarettes, and sex. The lights were directed toward the stage, on the girl who was naked and pumping her cunt against the pole. She had a nice rack, but I knew fake when I saw it. Her ribcage stuck out revealing that she was too fucking skinny, probably a druggie. She was wearing a wig, too, because I could see black hair sticking out from around the platinum twirling around her shoulders.

Daisy’s luscious tits had been real, her little nipples rosy and sweet as fucking candy. Thinking about them turned me hard as stone. If I hadn’t had club shit to do I would still have been there, no doubt fucking her brains out. She had a sweet, tight as fuck pussy that hugged my dick and knew how to milk it dry. Several times while I’d been pounding her I’d hit right up against her inner walls. It wasn’t often that I could bottom out inside a woman, and my balls had been happy slapping against her curvy ass.

I picked up my drink and threw it back, slamming the glass down on the table loud enough to get the waitress’s attention. She skipped her way to the table, a huge smile on her face. She would have been pretty without all the makeup.

“Can I get you something, honey?”

Her eagerness and the interest in her eyes revealed that I could request anything and she’d be glad to give it to me. “A refill,” I grunted. She started to turn away. “Fuck, make it the whole damned bottle.”

“You got it,” she smiled over her shoulder, swinging her hips as she walked away.

“Nice ass,” Clay remarked, watching her.

“You have a nice ass waiting for you back at the clubhouse,” I reminded him.

He shrugged. “Does that mean I can’t admire someone else’s?” he snorted. “Makes me appreciate what I have.”

There was some truth to that.

“What about you?”

I looked at Jumper. “What about me?”

“Seems you’re not as stressed out as you were before. Something happen between you and that cute Daisy from the salon?”

“None of your fucking business, brother.”

He and Clay both laughed. The waitress came back with the bottle of whiskey and set it down on the table. The view that I got as she bent forward might have peaked my interest another time. Her blouse fell away from her tits, revealing that she wasn’t wearing a bra. I looked. I’m a man, after all, but the sight was mediocre compared to the full perfection of Daisy’s full tits. Shit, I wanted those creamy mounds in my mouth right then, wanted to roll those tasty nipples around with my tongue, and hear her little whimpers as I sucked at them hard.

“Would you like anything else?” the waitress asked with an invitation in her eyes.

“Maybe some other time.” Clay gave me and Jumper a look before continuing. “You never know if love will last or not.”

Love? Fuck. He and Jasmine hadn’t been together long enough to evenlikeeach other yet.

“Is Talbot here tonight?” I asked, pulling her eyes back to me.

“In his office in the back. Would you like me to get him for you?”

“Yeah. Send him out. Tell him Big John wants to chat.”

“Sure thing, honey.”

After she walked away, my gaze drifted back to the stage. A different girl was dancing now, one with a little more meat on her bones. She was wearing a harem girl’s outfit, as revealing as it was concealing, giving glimpses of her skin as she moved.

“Now that’s worth watching,” Clay smirked, nodding toward the stage. “I’d like to see Jasmine in something like that.”

The door opened and a couple of truckers stumbled inside. They looked rough, and halfway to already being drunk. I shook my head with disgust, thinking about them out on the road, driving while intoxicated. I had little patience for that kind of fucking stupidity. A lot of bikers drove under the influence, too, but my brothers knew how I felt about it, knew how it had changed my life. They knew that they’d have to answer to me if I found out they did that shit. I may have been a killer, but my fists and gun were usually aimed at scum who deserved to die. Driving while drunk took out innocent lives, and hit a personal note for me.

One drunk driver in particular was the reason that I no longer had a family. I was sure that somewhere out there some distant relatives of mine were still around but the ones who had really mattered--my folks and younger brother--were gone because some asshole had thought that he could drive after downing a bottle of Jack. After I’d found out who he was, and had learned that he’d been convicted of DUI a few years earlier and had been let off with a slap on the wrist, I’d taken him out. I’d only been sixteen at the time.

The sight of Talbot making his way to the table, a sleazy grin on his ugly mug, pulled my thoughts away from the truckers. What little hair he had left on his head looked like it was stuck against his scalp, and he was dressed in his usual suit that looked like a throwback from the fifties. Thought it made him look distinguished, he stood out like a sore fucking thumb in his rundown, shady establishment.

---