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I pushed through the front doors of Scarlet Syn pissed off that I was called in for yet another moment of drama between the little pole dancers that filled this establishment. Gentleman’s club? Ha. Try naked women, pussy flaunting in your face, alcohol and drugs, and money you couldn’t pay me to touch with my bare hands. I wasn’t about to get some dude’s shit on my fingers.
No thanks.
I knew how many lap dances happened around here each night and ended with happy endings. Not to mention the warehouse about fifteen minutes away where we filmed adult movies with many of these same girls.
Fuck.
Why did I get stuck with this job? My dumb luck and eager to please heart. One look from Edge and a pleading smile from Rae – that was all it took. Now I was here babysitting after a bunch of girls who were old enough to have their shit together and know better.
They didn’t.
Mack wasn’t about to end up here either and as pres, he had the right. I wouldn’t let Edge even after he said he would since that was sure to bother Rae so guess who was the fucking martyr? Yep, me.
Maybe I could get Valan or Ghost to work the club. I’d give almost anything to get the hell out of here and not answer calls at two a.m. almost every damn night. GQ was a pussy magnet. Why the hell wasn’t he here?
The commotion coming from the back of the building proved my point as I sauntered toward the bar. Stopping to toss back a quick shot of Jack, I felt the burn as it slid down my throat and welcomed the familiar rush of heat as it buried in my stomach. Cherry was working the pole, a cute little redhead that could suck a mean dick, but I didn’t have time for her tonight. Would have been nice to lose some of the tension in my body but I wasn’t here for pleasure.
Candy and Star were fighting. Aga
in.
I really hated drama.
“Mother dick,” I muttered under my breath, taking a cue from one of my favorite characters on The Walking Dead. Why did Abraham have to die? Oh yeah, a woman. Always comes down to pussy.
Fuck, it was my problem too.
It was common knowledge I was having one hell of a time getting over Rae.
Sore subject.
“Candy? Star?” I called out as I approached cautiously, having learned my lesson the last time I entered the dressing room a little too quickly.
No answer. Shit.
Five seconds later a six-inch black stiletto sailed directly over my head and imbedded the crimson satin wallpaper, missing my head by about three inches. Angrily, I yanked the shoe from the wall, squared my shoulders, and burst into the girl’s dressing room, ducking just as the other heel soared by my right ear.
“Fucking hell!” I yelled as the room silenced. “What in the goddamn world is wrong with you two now? I don’t have time for this bullshit.”
“She’s fucking my guy,” Candy accused.
My teeth ground in my jaw as I was tempted to roll my eyes. These two fucked every guy in the club. It was always the same fight.
“You bitch! He’s mine!” Star screamed and ran for Candy.
I managed to jump in between them, holding each girl at arm’s length without much effort. I was a big guy, stronger than most men. My MC Brothers were all the same. Our DNA held the key, enhanced with abilities I was only beginning to learn. Needless to say, I was a tough guy with a lot of muscle. “Stop this shit. Now. Or you’ll both be gone. I warned you last time and I wasn’t fucking kidding around. There’s plenty of chicks to take your place,” I threatened, hoping they’d cut the drama.
Both girls stood taller, eyeing the other with the intent to kill but weren’t following it through.
Small victories.
“R.J. sweetie, I’m sorry,” Candy apologized. “We should have taken care of this later.”
“Huh,” I grunted in agreement. Fuckin’ broads, man.
“I know how much you hate drama,” Star purred, rubbing up against me.
Oh, hell no. “That’s not going to work. I don’t fuck my employees so get over your shit. Both of you. I’m not dealing with this again. Understand?”
