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My heart thumps and my cock throbs as I march back to my bike,pissed at myself for being so stupid. It’s only day one and I’ve already crossed the fuckin’ line with Prez’s daughter. Hell, even if she wasn’t his daughter, creeping into girl's bedrooms and watching them get themselves off isn’t exactly chivalrous, even by my standards.
I beat myself up about it the whole ride back to the club. What would I have done if she’d woken up and seen me? How could I explain to Prez that I couldn’t watch his girl anymore because she’d taken out a restraining order on me?
I pull up at the club and head straight to the back bar to get a drink. I’m done with being a high schooler today. Taking a stool at the bar, I immediately feel Mel’s talons scratching at my back.
“Tough day, soldier, you wanna unwind?” she asks. The bitch has got even more desperate since Jessie got himself an old lady. Mel had convinced herself that she was gonna be the one riding the back of his bike someday. She’d even told me it herself one night after I’d finished fucking her. Not one for pillow talk, I bailed before she started crying on me.
“Not tonight, Mel. I’m tired,” the lie rolls off my tongue easily. I never get tired, I hardly ever sleep. Real truth is, I don’t want her erasing anything I have of Ella in my head, or from my fucking hand for that matter.
“Nyx, hop behind the bar, free up Stacey-Marie,” a gruff voice comes from behind me, and I scowl over my shoulder at Squealer.
I’ve been the only prospect here since Tommy ran scared after his Pa turned traitor. I hate working the bar, ‘specially when club bitches get in my way.
“Unless you wanna come over here and suck my dick,” Squealer adds with a smirk, his hand grabbing his dick through his jeans and shaking it at me.
I stand up from my stool ready to step up to him, Prospect or not I ain’t about to let him speak to me like that, but a heavy hand lands on my shoulder and holds me firm.
“Sorry Squeal, you're either gonna have to go blue ball or thirsty. I already got a job for the Prospect,” Prez speaks up.
“Maybe Stacey-Marie should learn to pour and suck at the same time,” I snigger back at Squeal as I pass him. A comment like that coming from the mouth of a prospect would have earned anyone else knuckles, but the brothers here know not to push me too far. I’m as big as most of them are, and I fight back.
He flips me the finger as I follow Prez out of the main bar and into the smaller lounge bar, the one where only members are allowed.
Once we’re alone, just the low drum of music from the backroom vibrating through the walls, Prez picks a blunt up from the ashtray and blazes up. He sucks hard on the tip before passing it over to me and I take it, relaxing a little as that first deep toke filters into my lungs.
“How’d it go today?” he asks, eyes curious, “You manage to get close to her?”
Close enough that I can still smell her fucking cunt on my fingers… is not the reply I go with, and I feel the devil judging me as I leave that bit out.
“I had two classes with her, followed her on to the mall after school and then to a restaurant in Castle Rock. I kept with her until she got home.”
I leave out the part about me locating her bedroom and climbing on her balcony. Think it’s best I don’t mention that her lips against mine tasted like cherries, or that I can still imagine her pussy pulsing against my fingertips. I don’t want to end up being Grimm’s latest problem.
“She turned eighteen today,” he tells me, it almost feels like he’s confiding in me orsome shit. And he quickly clears out his throat. “The judge, you see him?”
“No sir, the girl was home alone. Well, that’s what I figure anyway, there were no cars on the drive apart from hers.”
Prez nods his head, and I can see he’s thinking hard about something.
“The only way we’re gonna know what’s going on behind the doors of that home is by someone talking to her, or to someone who knows her well. You reckon you can get closer?”
“I’ll do my best, Prez,” I nod, it’s a promise I know I can keep. I want to get closer. Close enough to know how that warm, wet pussy feels squeezing my dick. I’m raging hate for whoever she’d been dreaming about while she touched herself, I wanna slit the throat of whoever’s hand she’d imagined sliding into those tight shorts to play with her clit.
“You keep your eye on that Judge, boy,” Prez’s warning snaps me out of the recollection I’ve got stored in my head of her. “Go to your cabin, get some sleep, I’ll cover you with the brothers.”
I nod at him before leaving, grateful for the opportunity of some space, after today and the restraints I’ve had to put on myself,I can’t see myself having much tolerance for bullshit.
I ride up to my cabin. Thankfully I don’t share with anyone anymore. Tac moved into the flat above the Studio last year which suited me fine, I like my own space. Inside my cabin is minimal, once a week I slip one of the club sluts a few bucks to keep the place clean, even though I hardly spend any time here. I’m always either down at the club or at the studio with Tac.
Tac had been my fuckin’ salvation as a kid. I was only fourteen when I came here to Manitou Springs. It was the closest Dirty Soul’s Charter to the foster home I ran out on, and Tac was the first member I came across.
Somewhere between the foster homes I was constantly being kicked out of, I’d convinced myself that the Dirty Soul who had checked in on me all those years before had been my Pa. I wanted to find him. So, I hung around outside the tattoo studio where the bald-headed, ink-covered biker worked every chance I got, watching and listening out for any information I could get.
Tac soon noticed me, took me off the street and fed me. He put a roof over my head, and I repaid him by working in the shop, cleaning equipment. Even helping a little with the under counter businesses for him and the club as I got older. Earning his trust was how I became a prospect with him as my sponsor.
At first, I’d seen Tac as a way into the club, but it was way before I became Prospect that I realized how valuable he was to me. And for a really long time, I really hoped it would be him.
I put off doing the DNA test for months in fear of disappointment, but in the end, curiosity won over, and I sent off for a kit. I managed to swipe a swab sample when he’d passed out one night at the club, and all that disappointment I’d sworn from the age of ten I’d never let myself be a victim of again, rushed back when the results came back negative.
