Page 9 of Beast
“They’ll be here. Decided to stay the night, so we dropped them at the Holiday Inn.” I stuck my hand down his pants while nobody was looking. “I think you’re ready again.”
“Let’s get to it.”
I turned to Diesel, who was following us into the club. “Remember what we talked about.”
Diesel nodded. “No breaking Gigi in half.”
3
Beast
IstoppedlickingSkittles’pussy after her second climax. We’d done three and four in a row before, but she slept the rest of the night and the following day. There was too much business to take care of tonight for that to happen.
Skittles closed her legs and stared at the ceiling. She had a rocking body, and I wished I had more time to rock it. “I wanna get you over to the whorehouse and get you settled in. Brainiac is going to meet us there. He’ll show you how to review the books and ensure correct service payment logging. We need to up the pussy intake.”
Skittles turned on her side and rolled her eyes. “You make it sound so romantic.” She crawled toward me, and I slid from the bed. “You can’t get away.”
“Club business. No choice.”
“It’s late.”
“Sounds like you’re questioning an order.”
Skittles slinked back across the bed. “No. I just wanted to spend more time with you. But I get it.”
“Good girl.” I showered and waited out in the club for Skittles. Of course, she invited me to accompany her in the shower, but I knew once we got started again, we would either be late or something would break. We had to replace the shower door at least twice.
The main area outside the church room was jammed full of people, drinking and eating. Big Kentucky proposed a toast to my newfound freedom, and I downed a beer in celebration. Shit like that happens when you’ve been locked away from the stuff for five years. You overindulge in alcohol, good food, and pussy. Tomorrow I’d go down to Texas Bob’s and have one of his big ass steaks. Eat it all, and it’s free.
“We got a problem,” TexMex said.
I followed him into the closed-circuit security office, where a Prospect was watching porn on one of the security screens. “Brought me in here to watch some guy getting pegged?”
“Na, Beast.” He pointed at the screen. “Look at the room.”
I shoved my glasses on my face and leaned forward. “Son of a bitch. That’s one of our rooms.” I closed the door behind us. “How the fuck did that get on a porn site?”
“We still have cameras in all the rooms, and delete the recordings when the session ends.” Customers didn’t mind the recordings because they knew we did it for the girls’ safety. If this shit got out, we were fucked. TexMex hit a couple of keys on the keyboard. “Here’s another one.”
“So someone ripped off our feeds?” I’d been away too long and would have to insert myself back into every aspect of the club until things sorted themselves. Pussy was the club’s second-largest moneymaker behind Chaos Mods. We’d voted down getting into the porn business. So far.
“No,” Ashtray said. He was the Prospect currently assigned to security. “We don’t record from that angle.”
“Goddamnit,” I said, “are you telling me someone got into our rooms and installed their own shit?” I put my hand on Ashtray’s shoulder as I leaned forward again to look at the screen. He tensed up. “Relax. You ain’t done anything wrong. We’re sure as fuck going to figure it out, though.”
“I can take a Prospect over and remove them.” TexMex started to leave.
“No. Leave them for now.” I went outside, and TexMex followed. “Skittles and I are meeting Brainiac there in a few minutes. If we remove them, we may never find out who installed the damn things.”
“What’s going on?” Skittles asked. Her tight jeans and small tee-shirt made me want to take her back inside.
“Shit going on at the pussy house.” I climbed on my bike and handed Skittles a helmet. “We got a Peeping Tom filming the girls and their johns. Get on.”
“I’ll get Ashtray to see if he can trace where the feeds are going. If they return to our server, we should be able to track the IPs to the machine getting the feeds.” TexMex was proud of himself.
“I don’t know what all that shit means, but do what you gotta do.”
Skittles and I pulled from the club and started toward the whorehouse. She needed something to do, and I needed to make sure someone wasn’t cooking the books. Whoever the son of bitch was making money off the club by recording the whores and the johns would have to fork over some serious cash before they died. Everything wasn’t hunky-dory while I was at Varner.
