Duke.

(Fallen MC #1).

by C. J. Washington.

Dedicated to.

My family and friends.

Who always encouraged me.

To keep looking forward.

Synopsis.

Nicole's life had never been easy. It was a mess. It doesn't help that her Father uses her as a bargaining chip in his illegal deals. Now, she finds herself as collateral for the Fallen Motorcycle Club and in more danger than ever before. Will she ever catch a break and finally get the happy ever after she's always dreamed of?

Duke is the VP for Fallen MC. His life is the club and he likes it that way. His brothers and his bike are all he will ever need. Women come to him easily and he likes variety. He's got no intention of changing anything until the new collateral, a dark haired beauty, takes up residence in the compound.

Stand-alone read. For ages 18+ Contains violence and s.e.xual content.

Chapter One.

Nicole.

Nicole woke, drowsy with her shoulders aching. Her eyes were heavy and her mind was foggy like she had the flu. She was totally disorientated. She recognised the feeling. It wasn't the first time she woke feeling like this. These numb, achy and bruised sensations marring her body were not alien to her. Nicole knew with certainty that she'd been drugged, the question swirling in her mind was why this time?

Trying to clear her head, she took a deep, cleansing breath only to be a.s.saulted by the smell of smoke and mould in her airway. Well, she could rule out being at home in her rinky d.i.n.k apartment then. A flash of a program she'd watched recently on the Crime and Investigation channel came to her. She was sure there was a warning about not allowing yourself to be moved to a secondary location or you'd be up s.h.i.t creek without a paddle. She couldn't remember if she'd fought or not. Hopefully, she'd managed to at least kick a few a.s.ses before whoever had her put her down.

She took stock of her body next. She was sat upright in what felt like a metal chair, her arms restrained behind her back with handcuffs securing her wrists. Her a.s.s ached so she'd obviously been here awhile. Would have killed them to have put a cushion under her? Keeping her mind calm and far away from the encroaching panic as possible, she made sure not to move even though she was desperate to. Part of her brain was pushing at her to scream, thrash and cry with the injustice of it all but she kept reminding herself to play it cool. It would be just another crook, just another deal gone awry, nothing she hadn't dealt with before. She had to get her mind set right before she revealed her wakefulness.

She longed to lift her arms skyward and do a full body stretch like she did every morning when she got out of bed. Then switch on her ancient TV, snuggle into her threadbare couch with a milky coffee and if she had the opportunity she would casually punch her Dad in the eye. This wasn't her first rodeo with her Dad's 'a.s.sociates.' She wished this was the first time she'd found herself this way but she didn't have that kind of luck. No luck at all if truth be told.

This had been a part of her life, on and off, since the day before her seventh birthday. She remembered walking by herself to school and a large, white truck pulling up beside her. The driver rolled down the window and asked her name. She didn't answer - the week before Officer Hodds had been in her cla.s.sroom talking about 'stranger danger'. The man got out of the truck and she'd tried to run as fast as she could, just like Officer Hodds had told her to, but she only got a few feet away before he grabbed her. She screamed as loud as she could but a sudden pain in her head stopped her and she blacked out. She awoke terrified and crying for her Daddy until her captors silenced her again with a hard slap to the face. After that her tears stayed silent. Fear always came but she never let it turn into fright. Fear made her wary, fright made her rash and unstable. She had no control in this situation so she had to have control of herself.

Nicole forced herself back from her memories to the here and now when she heard a door click open and became aware of heavy shuffling feet and murmurs. She tried distinguishing how many people were with her by listening for different voices and which directions they were coming from. The more she could find out now while they believed her to be unconscious would make it easier to get a handle on the situation when it came to a head. Unable to glean much, she squinted her eyes open trying to see through the base of her lashes. This didn't help. There was only a dim, single lightbulb hanging above her. It was the only source of light in the entire room and cast everything but herself in shadow. She let her eyes open fully, there was no point in delaying the inevitable anymore.

A large man walked into the light and the room instantly quieted. Nicole wished she could rub her eyes to clear them. Trying to focus, she concentrated on his face to see if she recognised him. She knew whoever he was, he'd be the boss; there was never a second chance at a first impression. It was always the same. The guy who she'd be dealing with would be the first to confront her.

He was certainly imposing just by his sheer height. She looked further up towards his face and her neck cracked. Yep, she'd definitely been here a while. His expression was menacing yet his features had been softened with age. He looked about fifty years old, if he was younger he'd definitely lived a hard life. He had short salt and pepper hair and brown eyes and a thick scar that ran from the corner of his eye diagonally to his neck. It pulled at his skin, distorting his cheek. This was his defining mark and although they'd never met, she knew instantly who he was. He was known as Reaper and he was the President of Fallen MC. Nicole knew instantly she'd have to show strength and respect. Bikers didn't respond well to weakness, she'd be chewed up and spat out by the club if she gave them a chance.

"Hey b.i.t.c.h, you with us?" He had a gruff voice that sounded like a boom in this silence of the room.

She forced her eyes to properly focus and met his stare. She wasn't submissive in nature and by holding his look and giving him a respectful reply, she would show that. This way the brothers knew not to try to take advantage of a weak personality suddenly in their midst. She knew her place but wouldn't be pushed around. Her tongue was so dry it felt stuck to the roof of her mouth. She'd really like a drink before she spoke but that wasn't going to happen.

Clearing her throat she responded, "Yes sir." Her voice was scratchy but clear.

His eyes widened as he muttered, "You know who I am?" There was a start of whispered voices in the dark that she couldn't see.

"Yes sir." Her confidence was slowly surfacing as her fear loosened its grip. Her mind cast back to her time spent with another MC. She held onto a vain hope that maybe this MC would be different from the last one. At this point in the conversation with Riot MC she'd already been back-handed twice, leaving her lip spilt and the bitter taste of blood in her mouth.

"Good, then you know not to f.u.c.k with me. Your dear Daddy is on my s.h.i.t list. He owes a debt to this club. What that debt consists of is none of your business. You know he's as slimy as his deals but we're giving him this one chance. I don't trust him to pay up without having to send my brothers to hunt his f.u.c.king a.s.s down. So, you, Nicole Fletcher, are collateral; a guarantee that the s.h.i.t for brains pays up. Until then, we own you. Get it?"

It was exactly as she thought. "Yes sir."

"You do not leave this compound. You do exactly what any brothers with a patch tell you. Add the old ladies into that s.h.i.t too. You aren't p.u.s.s.y for the brothers unless you're into that s.h.i.t but you are their gopher. Any problems you'll answer to me or Duke, my VP." She could hear the very real threat in his tone. There'd been no violence so far, yet his voice a.s.sured her that it hadn't been ruled out.

Her heart rate slowed dramatically hearing him say she wasn't here to be a club s.l.u.t. Collateral wasn't meant to be, but it was good to get it confirmed outright. Honor in deals and handling collateral greatly varied depending on who you were dealing with. No way would she have have allowed that to happen to her anyway. She would have fought tooth and nail and d.a.m.ned the consequences. She'd never been used that way and she had no intention of starting now. She liked s.e.x as much as the next girl but she didn't put out for just anyone and everyone who came on to her. Her plan up to now was to find her groove within the club and try to blend in best she could.

"This here is, Slam." A man walked up next to Reaper. He was shorter than Reaper and lean with long blond hair and a rough beard. He had kind, blue eyes and looked approachable as he shot her a wink. She knew appearances could be deceiving and that underneath his charm and easy-going faade, he'd be made of steel, just like the rest of them. You didn't become a full patched brother in an MC without a taste for violence and mayhem. He bent down and untied her legs.

"He's gonna show you where you're staying. One of the brothers'll come get you in the morning and set you to task." Thank G.o.d she wasn't staying in this room. It had a definite prison vibe to it. She had no idea of the time but it felt late to her.

Slam circled behind her and unlocked the cuffs. She rubbed her wrists even though the cuffs hadn't been too tight. She pushed herself up from the chair and staggered to the side. She'd lost feeling in her legs from sitting for so long and from whatever they'd obviously drugged her with.

"Whoa, girly." Slam steadied her by holding her arm. "Not gonna smash up that pretty face on my watch. You must have really needed a good kip, you've been out for nearly twenty hours. I moved you from the chair to the bed, twice. Started me thinking I'd killed you."

She couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. She felt instantly comfortable with Slam. She'd learnt to read people quickly and she could tell that Slam wouldn't harm her unless she deserved it. She felt relatively safe with him. She quickly glanced around to look for the bed he'd talked about. She spotted it in the corner but still couldn't really see it. The room had lightened somewhat since Reaper had left the door ajar that he'd exited through, yet it was still far too dark to make out any details.

Dark, moving shapes of more men stood at the opposite side of the room drew her attention and a feeling of apprehension started to engulf her. She'd momentarily forgotten that there were others in there with her. She didn't like the unknown and really wanted out of here.

Slam kept hold of her as they crossed the room. She still felt weak and was glad to be moving around, getting some movement into her weakened muscles. The door led to a narrow, battered staircase that looked like it would collapse under their combined weight. The plastered walls had scratches and gouges marking them. People had fought and even clawed the walls to try and keep from going into the room she'd just left. She'd seen them sorts of marks before and they weren't a good thing on any level.

The stairs led to a large hallway with four wooden doors. One had a large picture of a male angel wearing a reaper's cloak, looking menacing, its wings on fire. It appeared as though someone had burned the design onto the wood. It was beautiful really. She knew this was the Fallen MC emblem that all the brothers would be wearing on the back of their cuts. Slam told her that was where they held Church and that it was strictly off limits. The other doors led to a large kitchen, the bar and to a long corridor that held some of the brothers' rooms. Hers was one that was usually a.s.signed to visitors that wasn't being used at the moment. She knew if they had need of it while she was there, she'd be sleeping on the floor somewhere. There was plenty of noise coming from the bar and she was glad they weren't headed that way, she wasn't quite ready to face that yet.

Nicole looked at Slam from the corner of her eye as they walked through his quick tour of the club. He looked about her age, mid twenties. It never hurt to try and make friends in these situations. Time to break the ice. "So, what's your last name? Is it Merjammer?"

He looked at her and froze, keeping hold of her arm. She thought she'd blown it and was about to apologise but then he burst into laughter. It was a great laugh, more grunty than any she'd ever heard before. She smiled up at him.

"Slammer Jammer! f.u.c.k. Used to love that song. You know what, Nicole? I think your stay here'll be f.u.c.king awesome. Always nice to have new blood knocking around. Warning though bird, few of the guys won't find your s.h.i.t funny, especially Prez, so just cool it till you know what's what." At her blank look he said, "Reaper is the club president, we call him Prez." Wow, the guy had as many names as Prince. This was the kind of information she needed to know if she was going to fit in.

He led her to a room, pushed open the tarnished door and walked her in. "Someone'll be by in the morning to get you. Until then stay in here. Fair warning." And with that he left, the door closing behind him. No lock on the door.... f.u.c.king perfect. Nicole let out a long sigh.

She turned to take the room in. It was small, clean-ish with a smoke stained ceiling. There was a dresser that had a few drawers missing and a wardrobe with no doors. On the dresser was an old TV. She turned it on, it worked which was great, she'd be able to drown out the noise from the bar if it got too much. The unmade bed looked like a rusty cot but the sheets folded on top were clean. A small door at the back led to a toilet and a tiny sink with a broken mirror above it. Well, at least she had some shank material if she needed it. A box shower was next to the sink and needed some serious elbow grease and bleach to get rid of the mould that lived there. She was pretty sure that Science would like some samples of what was growing in the corners. It didn't look like any mould she'd ever seen before.

Walking back into the bedroom, she sat on the bed and let her tightly strung body finally relax. Sitting in this dingy room, she missed her apartment terribly. It wasn't much, but it was hers. Her Father always messed her life up when it started going good. Her job was stable, her apartment wasn't above a crack den anymore and she'd made a couple of casual friends. She should have expected this sooner, she'd never managed to have all three at the same time before. He was all the family she had ever known, yet wasn't a family really worth having. Whatever he owed to Fallen she prayed he could pay it back sooner rather than later or she would be walking out of here with no home or job to return to. She wouldn't hold her breath to be getting out of here in the next few days. Her Dad was the master of excuses and always seemed to take his sweet time settling debts. Probably because paying off one debt meant getting into another. Yep, she'd be with Fallen MC at least a few weeks. On that depressing thought, she let herself fall back onto the bed.

Duke Duke couldn't believe his eyes. The woman that Slam had just led out of the pit was seriously f.u.c.king hot. Legs for miles and the b.i.t.c.h was stacked with full, perky t.i.ts pleasing his eyes. She'd got thick, black hair to her waist and the most amazing eyes he'd ever seen. Deep emerald green that seemed to glow in the dim light. When she opened her eyes he'd almost come in his d.a.m.n pants. He was still hard now. Some b.i.t.c.h was gonna have to sort him out once he got upstairs to the bar.

She intrigued him, there was something different about her that he couldn't quite pinpoint. She hadn't sat there a weepy, stuttering mess, frozen in fear or p.i.s.sing herself, which was more than he could say for most of the men that'd been restrained to a chair in that room. She either had no idea what Fallen was capable of or she had some bra.s.s b.a.l.l.s hiding in them tight f.u.c.king jeans. His eyes were still turned towards the door as if he was waiting for her to come back through, when his attention was snagged.

"What was with that b.i.t.c.h? She didn't even flinch. f.u.c.king disappointed. I like to think we leave an impression. That b.i.t.c.h just accepted that s.h.i.t like it happened every f.u.c.king day." Razor, his best friend and real younger brother, blurted out as the door slowly closed. "Jesus, best not leave her around anything sharp, she's likely to snap at some point!" He laughed and slapped Duke on the shoulder. His brother had a point, it was likely they'd be facing her meltdown at some point in the future. Maybe it was shock that had held her together so well.

"Come on, I need a drink." Duke led the way to the club bar where a prospect set about getting them their regular.

He let his eyes wander around where most of the brothers were gathered and lit up a smoke. It was a regular night to all be gathered together, everyone having a good time. They were a close brotherhood and he always found the sight of it soothing. Picking up his four fingers of scotch, his mind kept drifting back to Nicole. f.u.c.k. No b.i.t.c.h had kept his attention before and he didn't like it now. Sure, she was a fine piece of a.s.s but he'd seen and had plenty of hot b.i.t.c.hes over the years and they came and went from his mind leaving no trace behind them.

It was more than likely she'd be a raving, crazy b.i.t.c.h like the rest of them. He'd learned long ago to never look at women and take her at face value, they were never as they first appeared. He'd lost count over the years of how many women seemed loyal, sweet and caring only to find out they were heartless, conniving s.l.u.ts.

Just then, Slam reappeared. "f.u.c.king b.i.t.c.h is funny as s.h.i.t. Gonna sink my d.i.c.k in that once Prez gives the all clear."

Duke tried to block Slam's voice from his head and the confusing, almighty need to punch the b.a.s.t.a.r.d and break his jaw. She was funny? He didn't think he'd hear that. He had imagined her to be in her room trying to hold in a panic attack, not shooting the s.h.i.t with Slam. The brother was a good edition to Fallen and everyone had voted him in with the first round of votes. That rarely happened, it was fun to see a prospect sweat a bit before he was officially patched in.

The volume around him gradually grew as the night wore on and a few club s.l.u.ts started to circle the groups, hoping to catch a brother's interest. The smell of stale perfume floated around them, irritating his senses. Why women felt the need to drown themselves in that musky s.h.i.t Duke could never understand, especially when it tasted so f.u.c.king nasty on their skin. Who wants to lick the flavour of vanilla flowers off a b.i.t.c.h's neck? He needed fresh air.

Outside, he joined the Musketeers, so called because there were three of them. They stuck together, no matter what and they f.u.c.ked together, no exceptions. Separately they were dangerous. Together they were h.e.l.l on earth. There was no point asking them to do anything individually because the other two would tag along anyway. He settled his eyes on the fire pit and watched the flames lick against each other.

"Business finished, Duke?" Bones, one of the three asked.

"Yep, b.i.t.c.h secured. You three ride to her apartment at first light, check through the lot and get some of her clothes and stuff together. Got a feeling she'll be here a couple of weeks with her s.h.i.t for brains father on the f.u.c.king task. f.u.c.k, might be here for months." The three chuffed at that as Duke pushed away the thought of what could be months of slamming his d.i.c.k into her dripping, tight p.u.s.s.y. His d.i.c.k still hadn't calmed and it was time to sort that out.

He was making his way further into the yard, knowing that he would soon be followed. After only a few metres, the sound of hollow heels quickly making their way towards him put set his teeth on edge, he knew it'd be Helen. The b.i.t.c.h had been trying to be his old lady for over a year and was incapable of taking a hint. When a hint didn't work, he started to say his rejections outright but it was like she had selective hearing and just 'chose' not to hear what she didn't like. The fact that she'd lasted over a year here was a testament to her sucking skills but she was f.u.c.king clueless about everything else and her relentless pursuit of him was p.i.s.sing him off. She had decided to stay with Fallen rather than return to Spitfire MC when she'd finished being collateral for one of their deals. The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds took it well considering she had been a regular p.u.s.s.y for them, but he soon found out why. She was clingy, whiney and majorly emotional, yet she sucked like a vacuum and that's what he needed right now.

He kept walking towards the perimeter fence. He never minded the brothers seeing his activities and Helen, the crazy b.i.t.c.h, liked to think he was showing her off and so put all her effort into it. When he led her someplace quiet she told other b.i.t.c.hes it was because he wanted time with just the two of them so he'd put a stop to that. Now he overheard her bragging that he liked to show the other brothers that she was his. You can't get through to a whacked b.i.t.c.h like that and he couldn't care less. It was well known he had no intention of owning. If he ever did it wouldn't be with a b.i.t.c.h who'd sucked nearly every brother here and had a p.u.s.s.y like a wizards' sleeve.

Bracing by a tree, he opened his pants and pushed her to her knees in front of him. Helen always tried to kiss him first. He wasn't bothered with kissing, he never saw the point. They should just get down to business as far as he was concerned. This also reinforced the understanding that this was just a f.u.c.k, no sweet romance bull s.h.i.t.

"Oh baby, you're so full tonight. Been thinking about this for a while?" Helen said in her creepy toddler voice as she rubbed him and licked the pre-come from his tip.

Duke blocked her out and pushed his d.i.c.k deep into her mouth. That would keep her quiet. He saw she was getting herself off as well. Good, because he sure as f.u.c.k wasn't doing it. He closed his eyes and focused on the sensations flowing through his d.i.c.k. He pictured emerald green eyes staring up at him, soft, fat lips stretched around his width. Quickly and silently he came, pulled from Helen's mouth and zipped up. Patting Helen on the head, he took off toward the clubhouse before she could scramble off her knees to follow and went up to his apartment.

One of the perks to being Fallen VP was that he had an apartment on the second floor of the compound. It wasn't overly big but it suited his needs. The old ladies had kitted it out for him. His bed was huge, he had big, comfy, leather furniture in his living room and a kick a.s.s flat screen TV. It was his s.p.a.ce and he didn't like visitors. He stripped off his clothes, crashed on his bed and relaxed.

There was a lot of s.h.i.t the club had to do in the next month and he didn't need distractions. Businesses needed to stay in the black and deals under the radar. He needed to be focused. His c.o.c.k started filling again as if he hadn't just unloaded as he wondered what Nicole was doing in a room below him. His mind filled with images better left on the cutting room floor from hard core p.o.r.n. He groaned to himself and buried his face in his pillow.

Chapter Two.

Nicole Banging on the door woke Nicole from a dreamless and restless sleep. The mattress she lay on creaked as she scanned the unfamiliar room for a clock, there wasn't one to be found. There was only a small window in the room that was high up the wall beyond her reach. It was pouring in sunlight and her room was already heating up. She guessed it was late morning. She'd slept well under the circ.u.mstances but had kept being woken up by d.a.m.n broken springs popping up through the mattress. The good news was she didn't feel fuzzy at all now. Whatever drug Slam had given her must have totally left her system.

She jumped as the banging started again. She supposed she should just be happy that whoever was there had knocked and not just walked in. Standing and stretching, she forced herself to the door as the knocking grew more insistent. She opened it to a guy who could only be describe as an adonis. For the first time in her life her mind had frozen and her breath stalled.

He was tall, about 6ft 5" with broad shoulders and heavily muscled arms covered in black and grey tattoos. His face was angular with light brown eyes that were partially hidden by his thick brown hair that fell over them. His lips glistened like he'd just licked them, the bottom one slightly fuller than the top and Nicole fought the urge to bite it. He cleared his throat, snapping her back into herself. She was mortified. She had stood there openly checking him out. Her face flamed in embarra.s.sment. She wanted to slam the door shut and crawl under the bed covers. That wasn't an option though, she'd have to suck it up.

"Hi," she croaked out, tentatively meeting his gaze.

"Your clothes and s.h.i.t we got from your apartment." He handed her a large black garbage bag. Nicole noticed his hand was covered in small scars and calluses and his knuckles were scabbed like he'd recently been in a fight. His voice was deep and smooth, she could almost feel it caressing her skin. "Some stuff in there from the club shop too, can't have you wandering around looking like a prissy, uptight b.i.t.c.h." At this point she knew he hadn't been the one to go to her home, otherwise he'd know she was anything but prissy. h.e.l.l, she couldn't afford prissy. "You got ten minutes to get your a.s.s in gear and be downstairs. Bar needs restocking. I'm Duke, Fallen VP. Come to me if you have any questions." With that he turned away and left.

It seemed he couldn't get away from her fast enough. It was no wonder since she'd been silent the whole time. Standing and staring at him blankly like a moron. What the f.u.c.k was wrong with her? This was so not the time to get distracted by a hottie. Taking a deep breath, she set about getting ready. She didn't want to be a slacker and earn a punishment on the first day. It was time to get herself together and get through this. She needed to stay focused. There was bound to be a lot to take in and she didn't want him to think of her as an air head. No, not him, them.

Opening the bag she found her jeans, shorts, shoes, short skirts and tight tops. In the bottom was her toiletry and make up bags. They'd brought most of her staple wardrobe which was cool, it was what she didn't find that p.i.s.sed her off. Not one f.u.c.king bra or panties that wasn't a thong in the whole d.a.m.n bag. b.a.s.t.a.r.ds! What she wouldn't have given to pack her own bag. Down the side was a paper sack. She knew there was no hope that there would be a good, supportive bra in there. Inside was 6 racer back tank tops with Fallen MC and the burning angel emblem printed on the front.

She hadn't decided yet whether she was relieved or mortified to be being held by another MC. Two years ago she'd spent 3 weeks with Riot MC, so she had a good idea of what to expect. On the other hand, it wasn't an experience she was eager to repeat. She hated the unknown, so for now she'd take all the positives she could get. It was time to embrace the situation and make the best of it.

Her body screamed for a shower and she'd have to make it the quickest one in history. Running out of time, she grabbed her toiletry bag for her shower stuff from the jumble of her clothes she had strewn on the bed. Reaching the bathroom, she opened the bag and froze. Oh great, the f.u.c.kers had managed to shove her wand, d.i.l.d.o and lube into what little s.p.a.ce was left. As if this whole experience wasn't humiliating enough, now bad a.s.s bikers had found her toys. Quickly drying her body after her shower, she left her hair damp and dressed in her cut off jean shorts, a black Fallen tank and her comfy red high heels. She went to the sink to use what little was left of the mirror above it. She would have to leave her hair down to dry. It was far to thick to put up damp. After she brushed her teeth, put on a swipe of mascara and pinched her cheeks for colour, she headed to the bar.

Finding the bar was easy by retracing the way to the hallway Slam had shown her last night. Walking in she looked around. The bar itself was made of dark, varnished wood and took up the entire width of one end of the room. The seating filled the rest of the s.p.a.ce. Four huge booths were down one side in cracked, green leather with large round tables. The rest were oblong tables covered in carved graffiti with stools surrounding them. Everything looked like it could use a good clean, no doubt that would be her job at some point.

The walls were decorated with vintage MC rally and cla.s.sic pin-up girl posters. What drew her eyes the most were the different patches from other clubs held to the wall with knives. She knew a biker would tear the patch off another's cut when they killed them and display it as a trophy. Riot MC had done this too. She always thought it was pretty dumb to basically pin evidence of your crimes on the wall. The patches themselves didn't alarm her it was the sheer amount. They nearly covered the rest of the walls not taken up by the posters and some of the knives speared three or four patches that were layered together. She took a deep breath, swallowed and fisted her hands to stop the shaking she could feel building up. As her dad told her - 'if you can't take it, fake it.'

Movement in the far booth caught her eye. Duke was sat, surrounded by stacks of papers and what looked like books of ledgers. He wasn't looking at them though, he was staring at her. He might have seen her reaction to the walls and was waiting for her to start running or freaking out. But it wasn't her face he was staring at, it was her crotch. A quick glance down showed her that her low-riding shorts exposed the very top of her tattoo that started on her mound. It only exposed the very top and no one had ever successfully guessed what it was without seeing more. Well, he would just have to wonder. She wasn't one for show and tell in a bar.

Her confidence grew the longer he stared and she couldn't help but be flattered that a man like him was looking her way at all. Hiding her smirk, she strutted towards him attempting to seem un-rattled by his attention. She knew with her long legs and big b.o.o.bs she attracted men. She rarely paid men any attention and none had ever made her feel like she could self combust like he did. He was yet to say anything as she got near him and she was starting to feel awkward just standing by his table. His heated eyes were sweeping over from her shoes up to her hair. A lump formed in her throat at his gaze was scorching her skin, leaving behind a delicious tingle. Nicole cleared her throat and asked, "Where do you want me?" She was glad her voice had sounded clear this time.

Duke Holy s.h.i.t. Talk about a loaded question. Nicole looked like a wet dream personified. He couldn't focus on just one part of her. His d.i.c.k had twitched in time with her steps towards him. Her shorts were longer than most he saw around here by the fact that they covered the very tops of her thighs but they were low in the front, exposing the bottom of that smooth, flat stomach. His eyes were drawn again to the art peeking out of her shorts. Every nerve in his body was drawn to it. There were two soft pink rounded b.u.mps showing with a gap between them. They were the peaks of something and his life mission became to see the whole thing.

Her t.i.ts had gently swayed with her movements and her damp hair made her look like she just finished having hot, sweaty s.e.x for hours. Her lips betrayed her nerves, they were swollen where she'd been chewing on them for the last couple of minutes. They were deep red and plump, he couldn't help but again picture them wrapped around his c.o.c.k. Now that she was closer, he could make out tiny gold flecks mixed with the deep green of her eyes. The b.i.t.c.h was stunning and she hadn't even been trying to make an effort. He tried to imagine her styled to perfection in a miniskirt or a tiny dress, but he couldn't get past the vision standing in front of him now.

He realised a good fifteen seconds had pa.s.sed since she had spoken. Focusing back on her face, he drew on his legendary control and answered, "The bar. Told you it needs restocking. Everything you need is through the door behind it. Give all that s.h.i.t a clean while your at it. I'm dealing with papers for a couple of hours. Give me a shout if you need help with the lifting." A quick nod was his only answer before she walked away.

He dragged his eyes away from her pert, round a.s.s and down to the accounts on the table. He didn't see them though, in his minds eye he was watching her walk the length of the room to the bar. He pictured her bent over restocking the fridges, her a.s.s stuck up and out ready for him to rip down her shorts and ram his c.o.c.k in her pink p.u.s.s.y while squeezing those plump globes. Sweat beaded on his upper lip at the image. He necked half his cold beer and rolled the cool gla.s.s across his forehead. The numbers in front of him all merged together as his body reacted to every bottle clinked together and shuffle he heard her make behind him.

Two hours went by very slowly and he achieved maybe a third of what he should have accomplished. It would have been even less if he'd moved to the other side of the booth to get a clear view of Nicole. He'd struggled with the temptation the entire time. He could have taken the work into the office and left her to it but he just couldn't force himself to move. He made all sorts of pathetic excuses to himself; she really shouldn't be left alone, he'd need a new beer in a bit anyway and would just end up coming back, there wouldn't be room to spread the papers out that he was using and so on and so on.

The truth was that he was drawn to her for no good reason other than she was the s.e.xiest b.i.t.c.h to ever walk through this club. There was definitely something else about her though that pulled at him and he was kept trying to figure out what it was. So he convinced himself he'd stayed in the bar on the chance that he could discover what it was. Maybe it was the innocence and fear he could see her trying to hide behind her eyes. Innocence certainly wasn't a trait this club had seen in a while and wasn't easily faked. He ignored her the best he could and kept trying to push his confusion and fascination to the back of his mind.

Some of club s.l.u.ts entered, sounding like a flock of screeching birds and drew his eyes to the door. There sure was no innocence left in those b.i.t.c.hes. They were there to set up before the old ladies and brothers showed up for the monthly barbecue. They didn't have to help but life was made easier for them in the club, especially with the old ladies, if they did. It wasn't as if they had anything else going on in their lives to distract them. They knew how to flaunt themselves and were easy pickings for a drunk brother. Shorts and skirts showing the bottom of a.s.ses, t.i.ts pushed up and big hair were the norm with these s.l.u.ts. Trashy, every last one of them. Ideal for a quick f.u.c.k. Some had been around a while, others only a couple of months.

He liked the newer ones, they were always enthusiastic and put in maximum effort to please the brothers. They zeroed in on Nicole very quickly. He knew these b.i.t.c.hes got territorial with new arrivals, they were sizing up the compet.i.tion. What they didn't seem to get was that the brothers couldn't care less. As long as p.u.s.s.y was available they were happy, who provided it made very little difference. Sure, some had favourites or club s.l.u.ts they used regularly but they never bothered if another brother got there first or if the s.l.u.t left altogether. It was as if the s.l.u.ts had a collective agreement to ignore what was blatantly going on around them. They always thought they would be the one who was different, the exception to the rule. Pathetic.

"Who the f.u.c.k are you?" Helen yelled towards Nicole, leading the pack.

He wasn't surprised that Helen would start the games after seeing Nicole alone in the same room as him. She liked to think she was head b.i.t.c.h, the ring leader of this group of tramps. She always sucked up to the old ladies but never noticed the eye rolls and sneers sent her way as soon as her back was turned, not that they were particularly friendly to her face either. The old ladies tolerated club s.l.u.ts because they are part of the lifestyle they've accepted, they do the dirty cleaning and s.h.i.t the old ladies don't want to, plus, they keep the single brothers and any guests happy.

He watched Nicole turn from what she was doing. He was shocked she showed no outward signs of being intimidated or surprised by their appearance as there were ten b.i.t.c.hes giving her death stares.

Keeping a completely blank face she simply answered, "Collateral."