Page 7 of Rebels & Rejects
Too many hard-working men and women, just trying to get by, rely on Strip Tease. As such, we all do whatever we can to keep the Satan’s Advocates happy, and you can bet your ass we will do exactly the same with whatever gang takes control after them. That’s just the way it is now. The Satan’s seized control of our little part of Black Creek when The Feral Beasts collapsed, and the whole city was suddenly up for grabs. At first, they weren’t too bad. They mainly kept to themselves and were too busy making sure they held onto the five-block radius they’d seized control over to hassle us too much. However, as time has gone on, they’ve gotten cocky, showing their true colors and demanding anything they want from us.
Dropping off the last of my drinks, I return the tray to the bar and make my way over to the rowdy table of Satan’s Advocates. The guy jumps to his feet as I approach, once again taking the time to skim his eyes over my body.
“Don’t you want a lap dance?” I question, eyeing the table of burly men, many of whom are watching me with eager eyes. They’re all rough-looking, with scruffy beards and stained teeth. It’s very evident hygiene doesn’t factor in all that high on their daily routines.
The man smirks. “I was thinking we’d go somewhere more private.”
I nod my head, painting on a seductive smile while smothering my groan. “Of course, follow me.”
“Baby, I’d follow you anywhere when you sway your hips like that.”
It’s the same sort of shit every guy says, and it evokes zero response from me as I lead him toward a line of private booths at the side of the room, intended for precisely this purpose. A couple of back rooms have been repurposed solely to accommodateextras,but I deliberately don’t take him there, hoping I can still get by with just a private dance.
He’s grinning like a fucking idiot as he plunks himself into the chair. I take the time to look over his scrawny frame. He’s young and arrogant looking, with a short, wiry, dark-haired beard that looks like it hasn’t fully grown in some places.
I pull across the heavy purple curtain, blocking people’s views of the booth and giving us some privacy before turning back to face him. The stall is darker now, making it harder to read his expression, although his wide eyes and the way he rubs his hand over his crotch are telling enough.
“Money.” I hold out my hand for the fee, and he happily slaps the small pile of one-dollar bills into my palm. I tuck them into the tiny strip of fabric covering my tits, and as a new song starts up—Addictedby Saving Abel—I step between his spread thighs and sway my hips. Leaning in, I stroke my hands down the front of his top before thrusting my chest out, practically shoving my tits in his face.
He groans and squeezes his dick. I spin, mentally counting down the seconds as I jut my ass out. When he smacks his hand against my skin, grabbing hold of my ass, I spin round and glower at him. “No touching.”
“Oh, come on, baby. I’ll pay you extra.”
“No.”
The muscle in the back of his jaw works as he grinds his teeth, anger flashing across his face. I mentally chastise myself, working to soften my naturally brash personality as I move to straddle him, grinding down on his erection.
The anger quickly melts off his face as he takes my continued performance to mean free rein to touch what he wants, sliding his palms up my thighs and groping my tits in a painfully firm grip. I keep my mouth shut, biting the skin along my inner cheek as I hold back each snarky retort I want to spew out. When the song finally comes to an end, I move to get off his lap, but his hands clamp tightly on my upper thighs, holding me in place as his finger trails along the strap of my g-string.
“Come on, baby. It was just getting good.” I try again to get off him, but then he digs his fingers into my skin, no doubt marking it, and that flash of anger from before re-emerges. “You got me all worked up. You can’t just leave me hanging.”
I have to swallow back the reminder thathe’sthe one that asked for a fucking lap dance. He starts using his grip on my legs to pull me in against him, so the bulge in his jeans bumps against my scantily clad pussy, and all I can think about is wiping the arrogant as fuck look off his face. The one that says heknowshe’s going to get his way and heknowsI can’t stop him.
Except, I definitely could. He might think he’s the most dangerous one in the room, but in reality, it’s me. I’ve killed many men like him—self-centered assholes who don’t give a shit about anything or anyone but themselves. But I can’t. That would only get all of us in deep shit. This type of behavior from a Satan isn’t unusual. It’s just something I have to grin and bear, so taking a steadying breath, I do just that. I have to work really hard to fix a tantalizing smile onto my lips and trail my fingers down the front of his shirt instead of wrapping them around his neck like I want to.
“That’ll be another fifteen.” I grind my pussy against his hard cock, distracting him so he can’t begin to haggle with me. If I’m going to have to give the asshole a blow job, the least he can do is fucking pay me.
“Fine,” he grits out, hissing between his teeth as I grind down on him again.
Now that negotiations are done, he slaps a few more bills into my hand, and I don’t waste any time getting it over with. I quickly lower myself to the ground between his legs as he unzips his pants and pulls himself out, giving his dick a few tugs before eyeing me up expectantly. I give him a pretty mediocre blow job, refusing to do anything but the bare minimum to get him off. As he swells in my mouth, his hand slams down on the back of my head, forcing me further down on him as he comes down my throat.Fucking asshole.I curse him out in my head while keeping my face impassive as I release him with a pop and get to my feet.
He tucks himself away with a smile on his face, and I open the curtains in a silent indication for him to get the fuck out. With one final squeeze of my ass, he murmurs, “I’ll be back for more real soon, baby,” as he steps out and moves to rejoin his buddies.
With a roll of my eyes, I readjust my bra and g-string before getting back to work. The rest of my shift goes by without incident. Thankfully, the Satan’s left not long after, and the regulars are usually pretty easy to handle.
It’s the early hours of the morning when I finally leave the club, showered and dressed in black jeans and my kickass black, chunky-heeled boots. I’m walking back to the apartment when my phone goes off in my pocket. Checking the caller ID, I immediately know what this is about and that I won’t be getting any sleep for a while yet.
“Yeah?” I say into the receiver, bringing it to my ear.
“She’s back.”
I sigh.Yup, exactly what I thought.
“What shape is she in?”
“A black eye. I’d guess a few broken ribs too. She’s got the kid with her.” The woman hesitates before blurting out, “She’s got bruises on her, too.”
Goddammit. I told her this would happen. I fucking knew it would. It’s the same fucking pattern every time with these assholes.