Jax's Dilemma:Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 2) (2 page)

“What do you want to drink?” she asked.

“I said to come on over by me. Now,” Jax growled, his boyish grin gone.

Cherri walked over to him, and he squeezed her butt through her skirt. She flinched. He laughed. “Why so jumpy, sweetness? You got a soft ass that is way too tempting.” He slipped his hand under her skirt, pinching her cheeks.

“Don’t do that! You don’t have the right to touch me.”

Anger flashed in his eyes. “Yeah, I do. Fuck, we own you. You’re Insurgents property, and I can do whatever the fuck I want.” He pulled her toward him.

“No one owns me. Do you get off on forcing yourself on women?”

Jax clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes into slits. “Don’t
ever
fucking say that to me again. I don’t have to force any bitch, got it?”

“Then leave me alone.” Cherri knew she should keep her mouth shut, but she couldn’t. For the past two months she had been with the Insurgents, Jax had been sniffing around her. She had to admit he was good-looking and sexy, but she had no interest in any man. Men wanted a woman for fucking, nothing more. She was
so
not into that. If she had to fuck, she expected to get paid well for it.

She knew Jax wanted into her pants real bad; he made it clear every time he looked at her with his desire-filled eyes. Whenever she was in the clubhouse or at the strip bar, he’d take every opportunity to brush against her, rubbing his firm chest against her small breasts. She hated the way her body would feel all funny, like a million butterflies were flying around inside her, when their bodies touched in passing. She didn’t need the guy complicating her life, needing to stay focused on her goal of leaving the club and making a better life for herself. Jax was turning out to be a distracting nuisance.

Jax raked his gaze over her body, his hands in his lap. He threw her a half-grin. “Bring me a shot of Jack and a Corona, sweetness.”

She nodded, took the other members’ orders, and went to the bar. Returning with the drinks, she placed them in front of the bikers. Leaning across the table to give Jax his, she realized too late he had a full-frontal view of her breasts. Hearing his sharp intake of breath, her cheeks flushed as her blue eyes locked with his for a heartbeat. Turning away, she busied herself with the other tables. She didn’t like the intensity, the spark of connection that coursed through her body when their eyes met.

For the next hour, Cherri ran her ass off waiting tables, clearing glasses, and fending off advances from many of the patrons while trying her best to avoid getting any closer than necessary to Jax. When she came back to the Insurgents’ table to bring more drinks, he didn’t call her over to his side anymore. She was grateful, even though his eyes bored a hole into her each and every time she placed drinks in front of the bikers. It was downright unnerving.

As she stood by the bar waiting for her newest drink order, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Glancing sideways, she saw Emma.

“Cherri, go ahead and get ready for your dance set. I can take over from here,” Emma said.

Cherri ran to the dressing rooms in the back of the bar, trying not to fall as she dodged the boxes of liquor and napkins littering the floor behind the stage curtains. Freshening her makeup, she teased and sprayed her shoulder-length, white-blonde hair. Her eyeliner and eye shadow made her blue eyes look like two ice cubes surrounded by black smoke. Cursing when her sheer thong sported a run, she replaced it with a silver-colored one, breathing heavily as she tried to get herself together before she was announced. After dusting iridescent glitter over her body, she pulled on a pink, metallic short skirt, her heart-shaped ass peeking out from underneath it. The matching halter top fitted tightly over her small, round breasts. She slipped on her five-inch Lucite pumps, checked herself out in the full-length mirror, and waited for her cue to take the stage.

The stage was a decent size, not as big as some of the other strip clubs she had danced for. There were two poles on each side of the stage and a stainless-steel chair in the middle. Sometimes Cherri would use the pole, sometimes the chair, but mostly she liked to dance the old-fashioned way—no props or gimmicks, just relying on the rhythm of her body.

The lights dimmed, and the mist from the fog machine created a web around her and the stage. Throwing her head back, her long hair touched the top of her skirt. The clear, crystal-jeweled barbell dangling from her belly button caught the light, glimmering like chunks of diamonds. Buckcherry’s song, “Crazy Bitch,” filled the bar as Cherri moved her hips while licking her full lips. She strutted around the stage, thrusting out her ass and pressing her breasts together. Lowering herself to the floor, she began a series of movements she was sure would make any man’s cock hard.

As she rolled her head in circles, her hair brushing against the floor, she saw all eyes on her. Some of the guys in the front row had their hands on their dicks as they watched her crawl forward and, leaning in to them, she almost touched her forehead to some of theirs. As she inched forward, her breasts bounced, spilling out of the confines of her halter. Straightening out, she rocked back on her knees, her glittering thong peeping out as she played with her breasts.

When she threw her head forward, she looked straight at Jax. He stared at her, his face tight, hands on the table. Even from where she was, she saw hunger in his eyes. Placing a finger in her mouth, she sucked it, dragging it out as her other hand grabbed her sex. Smiling seductively at him, she unhooked her halter and let her high, rounded breasts free. She liked teasing him, and on stage she felt safe; he could look, but not touch. From the way he stared at her, his eyes crazed with desire, bulge aching to break free, she knew he wanted her. That was what she loved; the power she held over men with her body. When men were wild with lust, they’d do anything to stick their dick in her. That was where she had the control, and no one could take it from her. Amid all the shit she had in her life, knowing she had
some
power,
some
control, made her feel stronger.

Cherri looped her fingers around the waistband of her skirt, pushing downward as she shimmied out of it. When she stood upright once more, the mist swirled around her, the lights glimmered, covering her like a shroud, and the glitter makeup on her body sparkled. Stroking her covered slit with her pink-tipped nails, she licked her lips as she spread her legs wide. Turning around, she bent over, looking at the entranced spectators between her legs. It was at that moment she watched Jax blow a kiss to her; a simple gesture which made her stomach flip-flop. The stage lights went out, and the audience applauded and cheered.

She exited the stage and went to her dressing room to get her robe. As she massaged her sore feet, she heard a shuffling sound behind her. Turning around, she saw Jax standing in the doorway, his eyes glinting with arousal.

“You outdid yourself tonight, sweetness,” he drawled.

“Got to pay the bills, you know?” She didn’t like him being there, in her space, so close to her. It made her uncomfortable, causing her heart to race, her temples to throb. She didn’t know why she had such a reaction to him; she never felt anything in a man’s presence except disgust. It was something about this biker that threw her off-kilter, made her think of her childhood dreams of happily-ever-after before they became distorted. Cherri snorted, shaking her head to dispel her foolish thoughts.

Jax came up to her, his hands on her shoulders, pulling her close to him.

“What the fuck are you doing? I’m wiped out and want to get home. I don’t have time to fend you off, got it?”

“Shh, calm down, little one. You’re always fighting, trying to be so tough. Just relax and let things take us where they will.” He cupped her chin and brought his lips down on hers. It was a gentle kiss, like a brushstroke on canvas, and his tongue skimmed over her mouth. Cherri instinctively leaned in closer to him, her mouth pliant under his. “You’ve got such kissable lips, sweetness,” he murmured against her mouth.

Counter to her reason, her body responded, but when he brought his hand up toward her breast, she shut down. She was no longer Cherri, exotic dancer at Dream House—she was a frightened young teen hiding under the stairs of her home. She jerked away from Jax, pushing him back. “I told you I’m tired. I gotta go. Stop fuckin’ groping me.”

Looking surprised, he said, “What just happened? A couple of seconds ago, you loved it, and now you turned into a frigid bitch. What the fuck?”

Her ice-blue eyes flashed with anger. “Why don’t you leave me alone? What the fuck is your problem? I’m not interested in you or
any
man. I have to do this shit for now, but my job description doesn’t include having one of the owners handle me. There are plenty of whores around here who’d love to suck your dick. Go to them and leave me the fuck alone.”

“That shit you were doing on stage was meant for me. If you don’t want the attention, then don’t be such a cock tease. And watch your fuckin’ mouth when you talk to me. I don’t like bitches thinking they can say whatever the fuck they want.”

“Well, I don’t like assholes thinking they can paw me whenever the fuck they want, so I guess we’re even, aren’t we?”

Rage filled his eyes as he pitched toward her. She ducked out of his grasp, scooped up her clothes from the floor, and locked herself in the bathroom. The door vibrated as he slammed his fist on it, making the wood groan under the force of his strength.

“Your ass better
stay
in there. You fuckin’ need to learn respect, bitch!”

“Give
me
respect and I’ll give it to
you
,” she replied as she put on her clothes.

Cherri waited for about twenty minutes, not sure if he was still outside the door. Weary to the bone, she decided she’d have to deal with him if he were still there since she couldn’t spend the night in the bathroom. Opening the door, she peered out, seeing no one. Breathing a sigh of relief, she threw on her jacket, slung her tote and purse over her shoulder, and rushed out the back door.

Outside in the parking lot, the frosty air made her feel alive as it stung her cheeks. The haziness of the night transformed the moon into a blurry orb hanging in the dark sky. While driving to the apartment she shared with two of the other dancers, she replayed the encounter with Jax in her mind. His gentle kiss made her feel mushy and funny inside—funny in a good way—but then he had to go and start his grabbing shit, just like all the men she had ever known. It was like they all wanted a piece of her to devour until she had nothing left of herself.
Why do men have to be such assholes all the time?

Once she entered her apartment, Cherri went straight to her bedroom, threw her purse on the floor, stripped off her clothes, and flopped on her bed, too tired to take off her makeup. A few minutes later, she was sound asleep.

D
eciding Cherri was
going to plant herself all night in the bathroom, Jax bashed his fist against the wall, leaving the club through the back door, all the while cursing under his breath.

The bitch messed with his head
and
his dick. Ever since her ass came to the Insurgents’ clubhouse, his cock had been hard, and he couldn’t get her out of his mind. She had the most beautiful face he had ever seen, with high cheekbones and porcelain skin framed by her long, layered, white-blonde hair. Her almond-shaped eyes changed between various hues of blue, depending on her mood. Those full, pouty lips were so fucking kissable, and he kept imagining them around his cock, sucking the shit out of it. Most of his biker brothers liked women with big tits, but he loved small, rounded ones, just like Cherri’s. He got a hard-on just thinking of sucking and biting her pretty nipples. And damn, her sweet, heart-shaped ass invaded his thoughts way too much.
Fuck, I have it bad for this one
.

He sensed a vulnerability about her. Maybe it was because of her small stature, he wasn’t sure, but one thing he was sure of was he needed his cock in her pussy real bad. He couldn’t understand why she resisted him so much. Most women came on to him, and the ones
he
came onto always ended up in his bed. This one was not so easy, and it frustrated the hell out of him. He liked easy pussy, and Cherri was driving him crazy.

“Are you heading back?” Chas asked as he took a hit on his roach before offering it to Jax.

Inhaling, Jax nodded.

Walking toward his bike, Chas said, “Then we can ride back together.”

They each straddled their Harleys, peeling out of the parking lot and heading toward the Insurgents’ clubhouse.

*     *     *

Saturday nights were
crazy at the compound. The members loved to party, and the booze and pussy flowed freely at the parties all the time. The club whores and hoodrats loved servicing the bikers, and each weekend, women in skimpy outfits lined up to get into the compound, leaving their inhibitions outside the chain-link fence that surrounded the club.

As Jax and Chas walked across the parking lot, the frosty breeze wafted the sweet scent of weed from the clubhouse. Jax, at six foot two, and Chas, at six foot one, made an imposing duo. Sporting tight jeans and black t-shirts with their cuts, they entered the room and headed to the bar to knock down a few shots of Jack.