“You love me? You just met me.”

  Damn, I didn’t know if I could do it. “I do. You’re my son. Doesn’t matter how all this is coming together, you know? Fact of the matter is you belong to me, and I love things that belong to me. I treat them well. I love them the way I’m supposed to.”

  I led Mark outside to the bike, gave him a dome, and helped him on. He looked scared.

  “Put your arms around me and hold on. The club isn’t that far away.”

  One of the coolest things a young man or boy could experience was the freedom riding a motorcycle gave a person. I felt his arms go around me, and it was one of the most badass feelings I’d ever had.

  When we arrived, the Prospects opened the gate, and everyone outside stopped what they were doing to stare. Mark kept his arms around my waist when I parked and switched off the bike.

  “I’m scared,” he said.

  I climbed off the bike and lifted Mark from his seat. He glanced at my biceps, and his eyes grew wide. He had a special way of making a new dad feel comfortable.

  “I’ll get you started in the gym,” I said. “First, I want you to meet some people.”

  As everyone crowded around, Mark moved behind me. I got it. We looked like a bunch of mean sons of a bitches. Even some of the old ladies were scary. I introduced all of the club officers, members, and Prospects. Everyone shook Mark’s hand, and he eventually moved next to me.

  Skittles came outside and hesitated. I got that, too. She was in a precarious situation as well, especially since Mark had heard she was a whore.

  “This is Melissa,” I told Mark.

  “Hey,” Melissa said and stuck out her hand.

  “Are you my new mother?” Mark’s eyes were mesmerized by Melissa. He looked up at me. “She’s pretty.”

  “Thank you,” Melissa said. She reached for his hand. “Can I show you around? Beast has some business to take care of.”

  Mark frowned. “Who is that?”

  Big Kentucky and Cinder laughed but stopped when I flipped them the finger. I stooped to Mark’s level. “Some of us have nicknames,” I said. “Mine is Beast.”

  “Because of your muscles?” He would make this father thing much easier than I had heard.

  “Yeah.”

  “And because he’s a badass,” Watcher said.

  “Come on. I’ll show you around and get something to eat inside.” Melissa slipped her hand around his. “You play video games?”

  Mark nodded.

  I stepped forward and stopped them, stooping again. I hugged Mark and said, “I’m glad you’re here. Sometimes I have to leave and go do things.” I glanced at Skittles. “Melissa will take good care of you.”

  I watched Skittles and my son enter the clubhouse and felt my heart weaken, not something a club president needed. Or maybe I did.

  We started toward the garage, and the group stopped when we heard a crash at the gates. A pickup truck had busted through and was headed for the main building. From the corner of my eye, I saw a van pull from a garage bay and ram the truck, sending it careening toward a line of cars waiting for repairs. The truck crashed, and two men, KG9s in hand, jumped out. They were put down before they had a chance to aim.

  Neither man wore a kutte, but that didn’t mean they weren’t part of Hell’s Messengers. One of the men still moved. The other had caught a bullet in the temple. I hoped Skittles would keep Mark inside. I’d sit him down soon to explain the club and how things worked. I wanted him to understand that everything I did and every decision I made was for the common good of the club.

  “Check their ink,” I said.

  Watcher pulled the dead guy’s shirt up. “Hell’s,” he said. He checked the guy still breathing. “Same.”

  “Ingles sent two wannabees?”

  “No,” Big Kentucky said. “If he were going to retaliate for what we dropped at his door, he’d send something more serious. This shit’s a bad joke. He sent them to die.”

  I turned to see Mark looking out one of the windows. He waved, and I waved back. “Wrap these assholes and take them back to Hell’s.”

  “Beast,” Cinder nodded toward the local pulling in.

  Sheriff Oscar Williams, we called him Oscar Meyer Weiner, got out of his cruiser and walked to where the two men lay. He stole a glance at the truck resting against two cars. “I’m guessing this was self-defense.” He tipped his hat back and nudged the guns on the ground with his foot. “You about to dump them?”

  “About to call you,” I said. The sheriff was in our pocket and had been since he took over six years ago. You bought local law enforcement or spent all your time trapped inside the club.

  “Drop them in some concrete, not on Rip Ingles's front porch.” He walked to the covered porch and waved me over. “Feds are looking into your weed business. Gonna try and shut it down.”

  “What the fuck do they care about our weed business? It’s chump change compared to the shit coming over the border.”

  Oscar removed his hat and placed it on the table. “They’re getting information from inside your club, Beast. Whoever is feeding them is also feeding Ingles and me.”

  “You don’t know who it is?”

  “Nope. But best be careful.” He pointed at the two men on the pavement. “There’s a construction site on the north side. New houses are going up. Cement will be poured tomorrow.” Oscar put his hat back on and got up. “The club is lucky to have you back, Beast. You be ready for what’s heading your way.”

  The sheriff left us to our business, and I went back inside while the Prospect rolled up our guys, including the one still alive, and tossed them in the van.

  I found Mark and Skittles at the bar, right where a child should be hanging out. Luckily, he wasn’t sucking down a beer.

  “I had Lily set up the spare room in the back. I’ll get him situated at home,” Skittles said. “Diesel went back to his place to get a game console and a spare laptop he’s been holding onto.”

  “Mom took my laptop with her,” Mark said.

  “What grade are you in?” I asked, not sure what grade a ten-year-old was supposed to be in.

  “None.”

  “You don’t go to school?” Skittles asked.

  “No. Mom says I don’t need to go to school to be smart.” He drank from the can of Coke Skittles put on the counter. She gave him a bag of chips, and he dug right in.

  “How’d you learn so much?” The kid spoke better than most of the guys in the club. “My laptop that Mom took. She said you’d buy me another one. I learn from it.”

  “Who’s the munchkin?” Brainiac asked. He sat at a table close to the bar and opened his laptop. Mark jumped off the stool and joined him.

  “Is that a Zephyrus G14?” Mark asked. His excitement was undeniable.

  “Damn straight. Built it out myself. Kicks ass, doesn’t it?” Brainiac pushed a couple of keys, and the laptop sprung to life. He went into some sort of game and Mark moved closer.

  “That’s gonna work out great,” I said. “Brainiac, can you hook him up with a machine like yours?”

  “Of course.”

  “Mark, Skittles and I need to run out for a bit. Can you hang with Brainiac?” I hated to leave him after we just got in, but club business needed my attention.

  Mark nodded. “Who’s Skittles?”

  “Me,” Melissa said. “It’s my nickname.”

  “I’m Brainiac,” Brainiac said. “Because I’m the smartest guy in the club.”

  “What’s my nickname.” Mark looked at me for an answer.

  I patted him on the shoulder. “Give me a few days, and we’ll have one for you.”

  Skittles and I left Mark in Brainiac’s hands, and I fully expected they would solve world hunger while we were gone.

  “You think his mother really ran off?” Skittles climbed on behind me.

  “Fuck yeah.” I switched on the bike. “Donna’s always been a brick short of a load.”

  We pulled from the lot while the Prospect was fixing the front gate. Skittles moved her arms around me and scooted forward, pressing her pussy against me. She was warm and, I imagined, wet. Riding a bike gave a man freedom, but the sexual intimacy of having your old lady’s pussy snuggling behind you was undeniably hot.

  We pulled into the whorehouse a little after noon, and business looked particularly slow. We got off the bike, and I stopped to explain what Big Kentucky had suggested about making dick a club income stream. After the giggles, Skittles agreed it was a good idea and thought maybe she had someone to help with the business.

  “You sure you want me here all day?” Skittles smiled and started toward the entrance. “Lots of nasty fucking going on inside these walls.”

  “As long as it ain’t you, it’s fine.”

  Inside, the lobby was as dead as the parking lot. We went to the office where a Prospect was watching the screens. Only three of the rooms were in use. In one room was Judge Killion, who’d let the club off more times than I could count. In return, he got free pussy, and his dick sucked three times a week.

  “Not very exciting,” Skittles said. “No wonder business is slow. As much as you want to think so, there’s gotta be more than pussy. They need excitement. Role playing. Whipping and shit.”

  The Prospect turned. “Those are great ideas.”

  “We need something different.”

  My phone buzzed, and I answered Dead Zone’s call. “Fuck. I’ll be right there.” I grabbed Skittles and planted a kiss on her lips, my hand sliding inside her jeans for ass. “Keep an eye on things and get a Prospect to take you back to the club when you’ve had enough.”

  6

  Skittles

  Instant mommy. I was sure Mark’s skank mother thought dropping her kid off unannounced and then running off would drive some sort of divide between Marcus and me, but the bitch was dead wrong. I would do anything for Marcus, raising his son included. It didn’t bother me one damn bit.

  I sent the Prospect away so I could watch the rooms alone. Although I wasn’t shy, it would be a little creepy watching people fuck with the Prospect sitting next to me. Room four finished, the man dressed, handed our girl a tip, and left. The girl, Mindy, stuffed the cash in her bra and left the room.

  I could see the front door on another screen and was shocked when Wendy, Gigi, and Carmen entered. They walked around the lobby, eyeballing everything in sight. I watched Wendy—she looked like hell—grab a brochure off the counter. The booklet listed services and prices. Her look of surprise said exactly what I thought it would. How the fuck are these girls making so much money? The girls took home seventy-five percent plus whatever tips they received. Blowjobs were $75, missionary $125, anal $250. At first, I thought the prices were too high, but the johns didn’t seem to mind. The prices doubled if you wanted two girls at the same time.

  They followed the hall to the office and came in, Gigi rolling her eyes at the screens where people were fucking

  “This is how you spend your days?” Gigi asked.

  “Better than sitting behind a desk. Taking orders from some dipshit.” I pointed at the screen. “What’s missing?”

  “Wait, why are you in here watching this?” Wendy asked. She still had the brochure in her hand.

  “It’s my new role with the club.” I knew they wouldn’t understand and was ready to run them out when Wendy sat beside me.

  “They can do all this vanilla shit at home with their wives and girlfriends. Fucking here needs to be special.” Wendy got up and headed for the door. “Which room are they in?”

  “What’re you gonna do, Wendy?” I asked. I didn’t need to fuck up my first day on the job.

  Wendy gave us a wicked smile. “I’ve been working in a VIP room at a strip club for the past three months. Which room are they in?”

  “Two.” I followed Wendy out of the office, Gigi and Carmen in tow. “Don’t do anything stupid.” The Prospect was sitting in the lobby, and I sent him to the office to monitor the other rooms. Another john wasn’t scheduled for at least sixty minutes.

  Wendy went inside room two, and Daphne, the club’s girl, and the john covered up. Wendy began undressing and stopped me when I tried to close the door. “Okay. Who has an iPhone? Put some music on.”

  I pulled out my phone, hoping Marcus would never find out. The john looked terrified. Or at least he did until the music started playing, and Wendy began stripping.

  The three of us watched in utter disbelief. Wendy worked her body so erotically that she was turning me on. I was wet and needed relief. Gigi and Carmen moved into the room, and I closed the door, all eyes on Wendy’s delicious body.

  It was hard not to watch Wendy with lustful eyes. She had a light tan that even darkened her nipples. Her pussy was close-shaven and wet. She raised her arms over her head and backed toward the naked john, his cock hard. He was nothing special, and I wondered how the girls could make themselves do what they did. I guessed money just made people do crazy things.

  Daphne moved away from the john and shifted in front of Wendy, her hands sliding up and down Wendy’s arms. The next time they slid down, Daphne cupped Wendy's tits. Daphne squeezed Wendy's nipples hard enough to draw out a moan. Wendy didn’t stop. She worked more seductively, humming to the music, a hand sliding between her wet cunt. She worked one finger inside, then another, and finally another. The john came, spraying Wendy with three streaming jets. Daphne ran a finger through the come, the john falling back onto the bed, spent. The whole scene was fucking hot.

  The john pulled himself together, dressed, and gave Daphne a $100 tip. Wendy kept dancing as he left the room. I thought she might stop, but when she opened her eyes, she danced Daphne into the far corner. Seeing the two naked women, bodies pressed together, was more than I could take. I sat on the floor and shoved my shorts down, my fingers finding juicy, throbbing lips. It took me only a minute to climax, and in that minute, Carmen and Gigi had both gone to the floor. Both women were getting themselves off.

  The room became hot and smelled of sex and sweat. Daphne got Wendy off, and Wendy got Daphne off. When they were finished, both sat on the floor.

  I glanced up at the camera and flipped the Prospect the middle finger. I knew he was watching. I would have.

  “That was fucking hot,” Carmen said. “Why didn’t you tell us you were stripping?”

  “Right,” Wendy said. “So you could lecture me? No, thank you.”

  “Is it fucked up that I don’t want to go home?” Carmen said.

  I had an idea that I thought only Gigi would shit on. It made perfect sense and allowed us all to be together. “I want you to stay in Pine Bluff.” They looked at me wildly. “I’m serious. Quit your jobs and move here. I could use some help running this place.” I told them about Big Kentucky’s dick idea. “I know you all like dick.”

  “I like both,” Wendy said.

  “Wait.” Gigi’s turn to protest. “You’re asking us to leave jobs to work at a whore house?” Her eyes told me she liked the idea. Her brain would still shit on it.

  “I have to give a thirty-day notice,” Carmen said. “And I want to work at the he-whore store.”

  “Done,” I said, not knowing if I had that authority. Marcus had not expanded on the idea, and I was hiring staff.

  “I can’t,” Gigi said, “but you all knock yourselves out.”

  “I lost my full-time job last month,” Wendy said. “I need to get some stuff from my apartment and will need a place to stay.”

  “My place,” I said.

  “You never told us you lost your job.” Gigi pulled on her shorts, and a wet spot instantly showed between her legs. “You three are totally fucking me up.” She went to the door. “Are you riding home with me?”

  “We need our stuff from the hotel,” Wendy said. She kissed me on the cheek and followed Gigi out the door. Diesel would be disappointed that Gigi left. Carmen hugged me as she left.

  “That was not on my bingo card when I got up this morning,” Daphne said, “but I’m sure fucking glad it happened.”

  “How is your work in general?” I asked, followed by momentary silence, and then Daphne and I both cracked up.

  “I’m going to shower and take a lunch break.” She hugged me before leaving. “I’m glad Beast is putting you in charge. We could use a woman manager, especially someone open to new ideas and ways of doing things.”

  Daphne left me sitting on the floor, and I stared at the wall. I needed to let the Prospect know I was done for the day, and since I knew he’d been watching, it wouldn’t be a surprise.

  I opened the office door and felt my stomach drop a notch.

  “Nice show,” Marcus said. “Not sure I should delete that recording.”

  I sat in his lap and threw my arms around him. The man was always hard from top to bottom. “We fuck too much for you to have anything left over to beat your meat to a raunchy video.”

  He brought his mouth to mine, and his hand shoved between my legs. Based on what he’d just watched, there was no way I was leaving the whore house without being treated like his whore.

  A thick finger found its way under my shorts and popped inside my wet pussy. Because one was never enough, Marcus shoved a second finger inside. It hurt at first, but I knew two things were happening. He was owning his property, and he was preparing me for his thick cock. I didn’t mind either of these things. Being owned meant there was never any doubt I was his number one.

  “Get up, baby,” he whispered in my ear, his voice so deep it sounded like he was walking around in my head. “Time to fuck you like I mean it.”

  Marcus remained in his chair, and I stood, turning away. He ripped my shorts down my legs, and the thought of his cock opening me pushed away the pain of shorts cutting into my legs.

  I put my hands on the desk and stuck my ass back into his face, his tongue entering me from behind, the tip of his nose snug against my asshole.

  The chair rolled back, and Marcus stood behind me for only a few seconds before he rammed my cunt. Already wet from my earlier encounter, his cock slid in quickly, though painfully, the width taking my breath away.