Fierce (Storm MC 2)

“You still got a

thing for Madison?”

“Fuck no, brother. She could do better than him though, and I haven’t been backward in telling her that.”

“I’d stay out of it now, if I was you. Now that J’s home, you don’t want to be fucking around where Madison’s concerned,” I warned him. There’d be hell to pay if J ever found out what Nash had been saying to Madison. And that was hell that our club didn’t need.

“I’ve said my piece and I’m out of it. Got better things to do with my time anyway,” he said with that Nash grin that meant only one thing; sex.

I chuckled; the mood now lighter. “I’m sure you fucking have, brother.”

“We need to hook you up, VP. You’re more moody than normal and some pussy will help that.”

He was right. “Yeah, but let me do my own hooking up. I don’t want the kind of bitches you’d find me.”

“Pussy’s pussy, brother.”

“No it fucking isn’t.”

“When did you get so picky? I remember a time when you’d take anything and everything on offer. Wasn’t so long ago.”

“Christ, what the fuck is this, Nash? Quilting fucking circle? I don’t want to sit around and dissect my sex life.” I started walking out of the storeroom, towards the office.

Nash followed me and along the way we ran into Velvet. A scowl crossed her face when she saw Nash but she quickly hid it and turned her attention to me. “The place is hopping tonight and there’s a shitload of dickheads in attendance. You might want to call in some more of your guys.”

Just what we needed. “Will do. You up soon?” Being the star of our club, there was often some problems with drunk patrons when she performed. We were down some security tonight so I wanted to be out there ready for any issues when she was on.

“In about fifteen minutes,” she answered me.

“How many boys you want me to call in?” Nash asked, his phone ready to go. Velvet was back to scowling at him which was strange. I thought these two were good friends.

“Get four of them in and tell them to hurry the fuck up,” I said to Nash, my interest in what was happening between Nash and Velvet gone. So long as it didn’t interfere with Storm or Indigo, I could care less about their issues with each other. “I’ll be out there soon. I want to keep an eye on you tonight, just because we’re down some men,” I said to Velvet.

She looked happy with this news. “Thanks, boss,” she said and then left Nash and I alone.

He finished up his call. “I’ll go out and check what’s happening.”

“Sure. Be out soon.”

He nodded and then left. I sat down at the desk in the office and spent a couple of minutes looking through invoices that needed payment or some kind of follow up. This part of the job was the shit part. We’d better have a new manager soon because it was headache material.

***

An hour later, I was kicking back with a beer. Velvet’s performance had gone off without a hitch, our extra security had turned up and the place seemed to be under control. Nash was sitting across from me at the table; once again, enjoying the show. From where I was sitting, I could see the front door and I was surprised to see Harlow stumble through it. The friend she was with was also stumbling; they’d obviously been out drinking for the night. How the fuck they ended up in a strip club was anyone’s guess. Harlow didn’t strike me as your standard strip club patron. I stood up, watching her intently. She was making a beeline to the bar even though any fool could tell she had enough alcohol in her system to last her for a long time. Suddenly, our eyes met and a shitty look crossed her face. She changed her direction and started towards me.

She kept coming until she was almost in my face, and shoved a finger at my chest. “Scott freaking Cole!” she slurred, “You owe me big time. I lost my job because of you.”

“What the fuck? Why?” I took a step back, to move away from her, but she stepped forward and maintained our closeness.

“You pissed that customer off and he put a complaint in about me. He’s one of our best customers so the vet chose him over me. Thank you very freaking much!”

“He deserved everything I said to him,” I defended myself although I wasn’t sure why; it wasn’t something I was ever compelled to do.

“Yeah, he’s an asshole for sure, but you didn’t have to get your dick out and wave it around like freaking King Shit, threatening him and all. I could have handled him by myself.”

She jabbed her finger at my chest again and this time I stopped her and grabbed her hand. We were already close, but I tilted my head so our foreheads almost touched; our breath mingling. She smelt of bourbon mixed with some other smell that hit me right in the dick. Christ. “Babe, I’ll get my dick out and wave it around like fucking King Shit anytime I fucking want. And I’ll especially get it out whenever someone treats people the way that dickhead treated you. You didn’t deserve that shit. So, don’t come in here poking your finger at me and yelling at me for something that needed to be done.”

Her eyebrows shot up and she sucked in a breath. Her lips parted and I could hear her short, choppy breaths as they quickened. I kept my eyes focused on hers, and we stayed locked like that for a moment, just watching each other, taking everything in. My senses were assaulted by her; all I could see, smell and hear was her. And fuck if I didn’t want a taste as well.