Underworld Champions (The MC Outlaw Series) (5 page)

“A pot of draught.” He grins, and I can see by his expression that he knows I don’t have a clue what he’s asking for.

Pip comes and stands beside me, pointing out the correct glass and which tap I’m to pull. “Pull down fast and tilt the glass,” she instructs.

I try to do as she says, but I obviously don’t do it right and the end result is a glass half full of foam.

“Done,” I smile, slapping it down on the bar in front of him, pretending like I just pulled the best beer ever.

Pip just laughs and walks down the bar to serve someone else, leaving me with Cole and his gorgeous eyes, his devastating smile, his…
shut up!
I yell inside my head, telling my brain to be quiet.

He just keeps grinning at me, like he knows exactly what’s going on inside my head as he tries to sip at his beer through the foam.

“You spoken for?” he asks suddenly.

“Am I what?” I ask, genuinely confused.

“Spoken for. Claimed. Attached to someone. Do you have a man?” he clarifies.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Curious is all.”

“Curious?”

He nods, keeping his eyes on me as he once again struggles to sip his beer.

“For Christ’s sake. Stop trying to drink that. It’s all foam.” I grab his glass away from him and tip it down the sink, holding it under the beer tap on more of an angle this time as I pull the beer again.

“Ah see. It’s always better the second time.” He winks at me, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously as he takes a drink.

Rolling my eyes, I walk away from him and head over to Pip who is finishing serving someone else. Once she’s done, she gives me a quick tour of where everything is and how to work the dishwasher, telling me that normally, one of the other girls helps her, but she’s fallen pregnant and has terrible morning sickness.

Cole sits and watches me the entire time. “Don’t you have something more interesting you could be doing right now?” I ask him after a while.

“Nope
,” he replies immediately.

“Do you think you could stop staring at me? It’s kind of weird.
”

He narrows his eyes a little as he continues to study me.
“We all heard about where you were, and how Toby died. That shit follows people around. Just gotta know if you need watchin’ is all.”

I swallow hard, remembering
Liam,
if he knew where I was, he’d definitely come looking.

“Nothing’s following me here,” I tell him quietly, and move to step away.

He grabs my wrist. “You need to be straight with me.”

I try to snatch my arm away, but he’s too strong. “I’m not lying. No one knows I’m here. Not one fucking person. There’s no one alright. So fuck off, and leave me alone.” I pull my arm again, and this time he releases me.

“I’m just tryin’ to get to know you, babe. It’s been a long time since you was running around with pig tails.”

The comment causes me to freeze. “You were here back then?”

“Sure was. My dad was VP before me. Kind of inherited the title when he died. I was probably eleven, or maybe twelve when your uncle took off with you. Your mum and dad went crazy lookin’ for you too. Had all of us real worried.”

“How’d your dad die?”

“Drunk. Drove his bike straight into a tree. Crazy old bastard,” he chuckles at the memory, taking a sip from his beer.

“So you’ve been here all your life?”

“Nah. I took off for years. Travelled, got into a bunch of shit. But I came back. Everyone comes back. Even you came back. We’re a family.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. So whatever it is, that you don’t want to talk about - It ain’t gonna get you here. You’re safe. We’ll keep you safe.”

I lock eyes with him for a moment. I’m so used to not trusting, that this is making me uncomfortable. Voices in my head are questioning his motives, wondering what it is he wants from me. Nothing is free in this world. Everything has a price.

“Maddie,” Pip calls from the other end of the bar. “Can you sort these guys out? I need to go to the cool room.”

“Sure.” Leaving Cole, I head over to a group of three older looking men. They all seem to know exactly who I am. Two of them claim to remember me and my mum, and talk about how I ‘growed up real good’ and that they’re glad that I came back.

“When Carla became Prez’s Old Lady, they was plannin’ on havin’ a whole ton of kids. But after you got taken, they couldn’t do it again. Breaks your heart,” one of them says. His name is Dingo. When I asked earlier, how he got that name, one of the other’s laughed and said it’s because he’s a dog. Whatever that means.

“What’s an old lady?” I ask, never having heard the term before. It ensues a bark of laughter from the three men in front of me. “Why is that funny?”

“Oh darlin’ it’s just funny that Prez’s daughter don’t know what Old Lady means,” Dingo says.

“An old lady, is a woman who is claimed by one man, and one man only. No other man can touch her. Some clubs give their old ladies patches to wear on their vest. But we tattoo our names on our women. That way, it’s forever.” The explanation came from Cole at the other end of the bar.

I turn my head toward his voice, expecting him to still be alone. But there’s now a busty brunette, draping herself over him, pushing her breasts near his face. His eyes are on me though.

“Will you ever make me your old lady Cole? You know I’d do anything for you. Anything at all,” she drawls, her red lips shining brightly as she bites at his ear, her hand sliding down his chest, aiming straight for a crotch grab.

He catches her wrist. “Fuck off, Monique.”

“What? Are you dumpin’ me for her? What is she? Some new house mouse?” she spits, referring to me.

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth bitch. You don’t know what you’re sayin’,” Cole warns, pushing her away from him. “Why don’t you go to fuckin’ work or somethin’?”

“I was just on my way out. But I came in here to tell you that Prez is lookin’ for you.”

“Where is he?”

“Out in the shed.”

Leaving his beer on the bar, he stands up from his stool and nods at me once before he leaves.

“Where the hell did you come crawling in from anyway? 1960-something? You look like a hippy in that outfit,” she snarls, her heavily made-up face scrunching tightly as she looks over my body and my un-made-up face.

Pip interjects. “This is Prez and Carla’s daughter, Monique. You best be showin’ her the right amount of respect, or you’ll find yourself jobless and out on your arse. Prez’ll make sure not one strip joint will hire you in the whole of bloody Australia. And let’s not talk about what Carla’d do to you.”

“Why should I respect her? She just got here. I had to earn every ounce of respect I get in here.”

“Yeah. Having big tits and vacuum-like head job action has gotten you really far. You’re a stripper. You’re an easy lay. Don’t confuse yourself as anything more. There’s a reason your skin is still unmarked, girl.”

“Hey Monique. The bus is leavin’,” another girl calls from the doorway. Monique shoots one last bitched-face look our way, and then turns and leaves, swaying her hips dramatically, as if she thinks it makes her fucking sexy or something.

“She’s um… nice?” I say as the door bangs shut behind her.

“She’s a nasty-arsed-bitch. Steer clear.”

“Where are they going anyway?”

“The club owns a strip joint one town over, and a brothel in the one after that. Most of the girls around here work in there. Except for the Sweeties and the Old Ladies.”

“Sweeties?”

She chuckles. “You really are clueless about this stuff aren’t you? Sweeties are like girlfriends, and Old Ladies are like wives.”

“And what’s a mouse…?” I ask, not really remembering exactly what Monique called me.

“A House Mouse. They’re young girls who are brought in to be trained. They help out the Old Ladies until we either find them a place in here or turf them out.”

“Turf them out?”

“This life isn’t for everyone, hun,” she says, making me wonder if I want to keep this kind of life. It’s starting to seem a little too close to my old life. Just minus the drugs.

***

Working on a compound full of bikers is a pretty serious undertaking. There is always so much to do. It reminds me of a motorised version of a tribe, where the men go out and work for the food and the women stay back to prepare it.

Although, in our case, the men are running strip joints and brothels, and god only knows what else. And the women take care of them all, cooking, cleaning, making sure their sexual needs are met. You know, the usual things that women do in this world.

“How ar
e you finding everything?” my mother after I’ve been helping out for a few days. Today I'm in the kitchen to help Cora get everything ready to feed the club dinner. It’s a massive undertaking and there are six of us in the there, preparing massive trays of cottage pie.

Seems to me, my mother and father are both the leaders of the club. Prez controls the men’s business and Carla controls the women’s. Everyone on the compound has a specific job to do, and it’s up to the two of them to enforce it. The rule is, if you don’t pull your weight, you don’t stay
(medical reasons excluded of course).

“Um… it’s alright actually. There’s been a lot to keep me busy,” I reply, wiping my hands on a tea towel as I move over to th
e serving window to speak to her.

“You wanna eat here today, or we can eat at home?
Maybe we can talk a little more. Things can get kind of hectic when we’re here all day.”

I lean closer, so I’m not overheard. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. “I wouldn’t mind going home.”

She smiles at me, nodding her understanding. “I thought you might. It’s been a big week for you. There's a lot to take in. How about you get cleaned up, and I’ll let Prez know we’re leaving. I’ll meet you out front?”

I let the other girls know I'm leaving, and I’m surprised when Cora envelopes me in a great big bear hug. “Oh baby girl, it’s been so wonderful to have you back. I can't tell you how much you've been missed all these years.”

My stupid lip wobbles a little as I pull away from her. Fuck. I need to get my shit together something chronic. I don’t know how to deal with kindness. It’s freaking me out.

I head straight for the bathroom. I need to take a minute to c
alm down before I face Carla again. She’s going to end up throwing me out if I'm crying every time someone fucking hugs me. Jesus. Although something stops me just before I enter. It sounds like…groaning?

Holding my breath, I listen. It’s the unmistakable sound of sex, and the girl is moaning like a porn star. Wow, that must be one fucking terrific pounding she’s getting. I think she’s yelled ‘Oh’ about twenty times already.

Smiling to myself, I creep closer to the sound. I guess I just want to see who it is, so I can laugh at her the next time I see her. Seriously, who in real life actually moans like that?

When I step around the corner, I find the answer to my question. Strippers named Monique - that’s who - while they suck the dicks of men like Cole.

Christ that man is good looking. I have barely seen him since my first day here. He’s either been on runs, or attending to club business. The time I’ve had away from him, hasn’t made me any less attracted to him. Not seeing him all week has actually made me want him more. Damn him. Damn my body for wanting what I know I shouldn’t have.

I should probably leave, but something makes me stay. I want him to see me here, and I want him to think that I don’t care (even though my clenching pussy says I do). 

They’re leaning against the wall at the end of the hallway, so I do the same at the other end. I lean against the wall, fold my arms across my chest and blatantly watch.

Monique’s head bounces back and forth, as she moans and hums around him, like his dick is the epicentre of her pleasure. Cole is just standing there, head back and eyes closed as he fists her hair and forces her to pump her mouth faster around him.

He lets out a slight groan, reefing her head back so his (huge!) cock bounces out of her mouth. Grabbing it, he pumps it a few times with his hand and spurts his hot white cum all over her DD tits as she shrieks like it’s her who’s having the orgasm.

I clap. I can’t help it. It was a great performance.

“Fuck off,” he growls, pushing Monique, so she’s forced to scramble or fall on her arse. She stands, cum all over her chest, her lipstick smeared all over her face and her hair an absolute mess. “I said, f
uck off.
”

She looks from him to me, then narrows her eyes at me and takes off in the opposite direction.

“I thought she worked nights,” I say, trying to keep my eyes on his. He still has his cock out. He's still holding it, and he’s still hard.

“I guess she took the night off.” His eyes stay locked with mine, as we stare at each other a while. I’d be lying if I said my pussy wasn’t dripping right now, because it is. The hottest man I’ve ever seen outside a magazine is standing in front of me with his cock out.