Cheers fill the room, making me feel even better about the decision I made. Everyone is excited to fill their pockets, and I can only hope it works out that way for me, too. I have a plan in motion, one that’ll hopefully make my woman realize just how much I’ve fallen for her. Thinking of her has my gut twisting with a touch of uneasiness. I can’t help but wonder how she’ll react to my fighting. I worry she’ll see me in a different light and maybe even become scared of me, and it’s the last way I ever want her to feel with me.
Maybe I can hide it? Should I?
Chapter Fourteen
Raven
Another chill races down my spine as I stare out at the customers before me. They’re sitting around the various tables positioned in front of the stages, along with at the bar. They toss back drink after drink, willingly draining their pockets. Not that I can complain too much about them being frivolous, it pays my wage, after all.
I’m working another night, against Powerhouse’s wishes, but he won’t come outright and say it. He knows how much I love to dance, which he supports completely. However, I can also see it bothers him, how the hypnotic dancing ends with me stripping away my clothes in front of other men for money. He wants to keep me all to himself, and rather than being smothered, it makes me feel cherished and loved.
Goosebumps pepper over my flesh, as my cheeks turn pink with apprehension. I swear I saw someonefamiliar, but I’mnot completely certain. It was too fast to be sure, and it has me wondering if my eyes are playing tricks on me. I haven’t been able to get my old partner off my mind since I saw him pulling out of the dance center, almost a month ago, when I was with Powerhouse. It had been such a long time since I’d seen him last, I was instantly sent spiraling into memories. My body went straight into shock without any sort of warning. One minute I was okay, and the next I was not. It’s a miracle, really, how I managed to stay upright altogether on Powerhouse’s motorcycle, when everything in me wanted to fall away and disappear.
I shake off the weird sensation I’d felt from moments ago, adamant about concentrating on the beat from the song playing. I exhale, counting to myself as I twirl my body around the shiny metal bar. I replicate the move over and over, making it seem flawless when in all actuality my mind won’t stop flashing back to the creepy feeling I had.
With a frustrated huff, I make myself take my time. I attempt to repeat the familiar song’s beat currently playing by humming it, as I finish removing my outfit. I dance until the stage is littered with bills and my discarded pieces of clothing, relieved as the song quiets to the point I can no longer feel the music, signaling a changeup.
Thank God, because I don’t know how long I was going to make it on stage tonight. I’d have run off at some point, but in the process of my escape, infuriating my boss. This works out so much more in my favor. I scoop up the tips laid along the edge, grabbing my outfit in the process, then I’m practically running to the back.
I don’t stop until I’ve made it to the safety of the dressing room and my designated locker. I open it in a flourish, stuffing the cash into my small zipper purse, unwilling to take the time to straighten the bills like I normally would. I slam the door closed,ready to ask my boss if I can leave early tonight, when I meet the concerned stare of my boyfriend.
The tall biker approaches me as if I’m a scared cat, hands out, brow furrowed, and sweet eyes. “Baby doll, you okay? I saw you hurrying off the stage when me and the brothers were coming in.” Boyfriends aren’t typically allowed inside the club on nights we work, but Powerhouse is different. Correction, the motorcycle club he belongs to has different rules, so Powerhouse is allowed to come and go as he pleases.
“I’m okay. My ankle and wrist are both bothering me,”I sign, lying. I hate not being truthful with him, because I’ve come to fall hopelessly in love with him in our time together. However, I know if I tell him about possibly seeing my old partner, even just bringing the subject up, it will worry him more rather than me simply saying I’m sore. The last thing I want is him getting all huffy-puffy over someone from my past, when I could relish in his smiles and sweetness instead.
“Come here, kitten. I’ll carry you,”he offers instantly, making me smile. He removes his cut, then his shirt, carefully tugging it over my head, using it to cover me in the oversized warmth. Once he’s satisfied, he puts his cut back on. The look is beyond hot with the exposed skin and leather combination.
I wrap my hands around his waist, at peace with how safe his presence makes me feel. Lying my head against his muscular chest, I sigh with relief. This is exactly what I needed. “I can walk, just not sure how I’ll dance tonight.”
He tips my chin up so I can read his lips as he says, “I was looking forward to watching you dance since we left the clubhouse, but I can wait until you’re not sore and take a private show.” He grins, and I push up on my toes, taking his mouth in an eager kiss.
If his response is any indication, he’s impatient for me as well. His big hands move to my waist, then to my butt as hepalms the globes, eventually lifting. My legs widen enough to take in his solid frame, wrapping around him to help hold me in place, so he doesn’t have to bend down to reach me. Not that he needs any help, Powerhouse is the strongest man I’ve ever met.
My arms wind around his neck, my hands at the back of his head until my fingernails can lightly scrape against the bare skin there. His body shivers in response, and I smile into our kiss. I’ve learned he’s extremely sensitive if I scratch my nails super lightly all over his head and neck. I love the powerful feeling it gives me to bring such a brute to his knees. I grow heady with the knowledge that I can make him come right here and now if I want to. My tongue twists with his, teasingly, as my hips jolt forward. My pussy grinds against him, needing to feel his cock, craving the sensation of being full that only he gives me.
With a groan, he shifts us further into the room, pushing me against the wall on the other side of our lockers. It offers us just enough privacy that if anyone were to interrupt us, they’d see his large frame, but I’d be completely hidden. No surprise there since Powerhouse is insanely possessive when it comes to me, and he doesn’t want anyone seeing me like this. “I need to feel the sweetness from this pussy squeeze my cock, sugar plum. I want you wet and crying out while I make you come.”
“Yes, give it to me, corazón mío.”
“You’re so good, Raven, I swear. You make me proud every G-damn day to call youmygirl,” he confesses, his lips pressing to mine once more. I’m still naked from my dance aside from his shirt, so he quickly shifts one hand away from holding me to his pants. He rips the loop from his button, shoving the zipper down until he can push his jeans off his hips enough that his cock pops free. He’s crazy hard, his length eagerly pressing against the muscular skin of my glute. His tip leaks precum like a faucet, the clear liquid leaving a wet trail behind as I grab for his cock.
He pulls away from our kiss, his chest vibrating with his groan. He likes it when I touch him; he’s told me many times before. I give his dick a rough squeeze, and his cheeks flush in response. His eyes grow more hooded as he licks his lips, staring me down, waiting.
Did I mention he’s a generous lover? He always allows me to take control, as he’s desperate not to hurt me with our size difference. I’ve never met another man like him, so willing to offer me whatever he can, eager to please me.
God, I fucking love him.
I line his tip up to my opening, and then I quickly release my hold on his cock. On an exhale, I allow my body to drop, riding down his entire length until I’m rooted at the hilt.
His hand shifts to my chest, so I can feel his fingers as they move,“Perfection. You feel like a dream. My dream.”
This one is always saying possessive things, but I’d have it no other way. My lips move to his neck, kissing and nipping. I leave tiny hickeys behind from his throat to his nipple, as I know he likes. He’s told me before it makes him proud to wear my marks, though you can barely see them with all his tattoos everywhere. He has a raven tattooed over his heart, right where I like to leave my marks, and it drives him crazy. I wonder what made him decide to get a Raven tattooed there? It’s almost as if it’s fate.
“This one is my favorite,” I admit as I brush my lips against the outline of the bird. I wonder if he’ll ever finish it and get it colored in?
“It’s for you, I got it at the patch over party. I wanted something to represent you as well.” He confesses.
His admission chokes me up with emotions. He got the raven for me? Even back then, when things were so new between us? I swear, he’s always been sure of us, all the way back to thebeginning. How did I get lucky enough to have this man come into my life?
