Home > Impulsively (Dante's Nine MC #3)(30)

Impulsively (Dante's Nine MC #3)(30)
Author: Colleen Masters

“Two whiskeys. Make them doubles,” Brooks says to the bartender, a blonde woman who’s topless save for two sequined pasties. Jesus—and I thought the sweet butts at the Forty-Five Club were bold.

“Hey Brooks,” Leo calls from down the bar, “Your drinks are on me. You worked wonders on my bike this week. Thing runs like I just bought it.”

“Thanks, Leo,” Brooks replies, settling onto a barstool, “just doing my job.”

I laugh as Brooks lifts me onto his lap and wraps his arms around my waist. I’m the only other woman in here, save the dancers and the old ladies. And I’m starting to like the old lady side of the spectrum, if I’m being honest with myself. I get comfortable on Brooks’ lap as our drinks appear before us. I can’t resist gently grinding my ass against his groin, knowing how wild it will make him.

“You trying to cause trouble, Red?” Brooks asks, snatching up his whiskey glass.

“Absolutely,” I return, clinking my glass against his. “Is it working?”

“You fucking bet it is,” he grins, though he need hardly tell me. I can feel him growing hard against me with every passing second.

“You better make good on that before the night is through,” I tell him, shooting back my fiery whiskey.

“I don’t think I can wait another day,” Brooks growls, slamming his glass down against the bar.

My stomach flips over as his green eyes fix on mine. He means it. No more frustrated desire, no more getting interrupted mid-hookup. I know he means it when he says he’ll find a way to make it happen tonight. I can feel my body start to light up with anticipation at the very thought of finally having this man to myself for a night.

“How are you liking the Playpen, Keira?” Leo asks, sliding a second round of whiskeys down the bar.

“It’s pretty fucking great,” I grin back. “Quite the impressive clientele.”

“Our girls draw a good crowd,” Leo says, surveying the room over Kelly’s head. Though he looks pleased with the goings-on around us, I only spot real desire in his eyes when they alight on his old lady. Now that’s impressive.

“The new girl’s doing pretty well,” Declan observes from Leo’s side. I follow his gaze to a petite, pixie-like woman dancing front and center. At first glance, her hair looks platinum blonde. But as I stare at her, I spot subtle streaks of lavender, too. She’s probably about my height, give or take the three-inch golden stilettos she’s rocking. She wears nothing but a matching golden thong and a tiny bikini top that barely covers her C-cups. Her features are delicate and girlish—distinctly youthful.

“Jesus,” I breathe, “How old do you think she is?”

“I know, she looks really young,” Leo says. “That’s kind of her niche. But we make sure all our dancers are over eighteen, scouts honor.”

“What’s her name?” Kassie asks from Declan’s lap.

“It’s Belle,” says a soft, awestruck voice from down the bar. “Belle Taylor.”

We all turn to see Tyke gazing reverently at the newest Playpen girl. And while there may be plenty of lust in his eyes, there’s something softer, too. His severe, serious features soften as he looks at her, and the slightest hint of a flush creeps up his neck. With his blonde hair and light complexion, there’s no hiding that blush.

“Tyke,” Leo howls, “Do you have a thing for her?”

“I...I don’t...” Tyke mutters.

“You totally do!” Kelly squeals. “I knew you’d go for her!”

“That’s who you want to set Tyke up with?” Kassie asks, staring at Belle as she wraps her shapely legs around the stripper pole.

“Why not?” Kelly shrugs. “Tyke needs someone to loosen him up. That’s why I asked her to come say hi after her dance.”

“You did what?!” Tyke hollers, eyes going wide.

The assembled Wraiths and Nine burst into laughter at their brother’s distress. I’ve learned that of all the members, Tyke has the reputation for being the most buttoned up. As if on cue, the hard rock song blaring overhead reaches its climax. Belle is suspended upside down on her pole, legs splayed in the air. The crowd of men around her lose their shit, stomping and screaming and throwing money at her feet. She rights herself and smiles down at them, looking happily unsurprised by their affection.

“Brace yourself, Tyke,” Declan winks, nodding for the rest of us to give him some space. We all get to our feet and scoot down the long bar, watching out of the corners of our eyes as Belle Taylor sidles up to the wide-eyed Tyke.

“Hey there,” I hear her say above the raised voices and blaring music, “I’m Belle. Care to buy me a drink?”

“It would be an honor and a privilege,” Tyke says solemnly, flagging down the bartender.

I’m glad that Tyke’s found a match after all. Kelly had wanted to set him up with me when I first showed up, but I’ve only got eyes for one MC bad boy. And he happens to be running his hands over every part of me that he can reach right at this moment. Someone can’t wait to get out of here and make good on his promise for tonight.

I lock eyes with Brooks as I finish my second drink. We’ve only known each other for a week, but it’s already like we can speak without words, just by looking at each other. There’s certainly no ambiguity in his gaze right now. Those green eyes say I want you, Red. And, feeling bolstered by his ardent want, I swing myself around on his lap, straddling him on the barstool. I see Kassie and Kelly trade an approving look from down the bar. As if I needed any more encouragement.

“Dance with me,” I say to Brooks, as the pounding bass sets my hips to swaying.

“Gladly,” he growls, tossing back the rest of his whiskey.

He picks me up like a new bride in his strong arms and carries me into the fray of the club. A dance floor is carved out between the raised, pole-bearing platforms. Dozens of couples grind to the sexy music throbbing all around us. The only difference between them and us is I’m not making Brooks pay for the privilege.

I press my back to his chest as he sets me on the ground, raising my hands above my head and moving against him. His hands course down my torso, grabbing onto my gyrating hips. He pulls me against him as we move together, the rise in his jeans growing with every passing beat. I spin around to face him, wrapping my arms around his neck. I can feel his cock pressed against me, just where I ache to feel it most. I’ve been yearning for him all week, and now that I have the go-ahead to do whatever I want, there’s no way I’m not going to have him tonight. The very thought makes my sex throb with eager want.

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