The Outlaw's Dirty Dancer (3 page)

Chapter Three

Brick rode around for another hour before finally pulling into the Grizzlies’ clubhouse. He shouldn’t have gone to Darra’s house, because getting involved with a female that he actually took an interest in on more than just a sexual level was dangerous. Not only had Brick never wanted a woman for anything more than to stick his dick in, he sure as fuck didn’t go to their house so they could mend some superficial wound. His bear wanted her, too, and the asshole had been determined to get closer to her. There was definitely a connection with her, but he couldn’t explain it. Against his better judgment and everything he had ever stood for in his life, Brick had actually agreed to go to her house—if he could even call it that. Frankly he didn’t like her living in such a dump, and a place that was not safe. It shouldn’t bother him, he shouldn’t give a fuck, but dammit, he did.

He cut the engine on his Harley, took his helmet off, and dismounted. Even before he made it to the front door of the club he could hear the music coming through, and although it was the middle of the night a party was going on. But that was not a surprise either. They worked hard and partied harder. He pulled the door open, and the scent of weed, cigarette smoke, and the slight stench of the club whores’ perfume came out him in the form of a billowing cloud of smoke. He closed the door behind him and walked further into the main part of the clubhouse. Of course there was a female grinding her pussy and tits on the stripper pole in front of the couch where Diesel and Court were currently sitting. And the chick between Diesel’s legs was had her face in his lap and was bobbing her head up and down, probably choking on cock. Court had one arm flung across the back of the couch, had a joint between his lips, and had his other hand wrapped around the hair of the club pussy pressed to his side with her hand down the front of his pants. The sound of pool balls cracking together crashed all around him, and suddenly Brick had a pretty big fucking headache.

“Hey, you
wanna
join us?” Diesel called from across the room.

Brick moved over to them, not because he was going to stay and hang with them, but because he wanted a few hits off of the joint Diesel held out. Maybe a little chemical relaxation would help ease his headache and the emotions churning inside of him. He wanted to go back to feeling absolutely nothing. That had been his state for longer than he could remember, and he wanted to keep it that way. But even after thinking that, there was this part of him that rebelled at that thought.

He walked up to Diesel and took the offered joint. Brick sat his ass on the edge of the couch, but made sure there was enough distance between him and the guys. No need to get close with the
crew that were
getting their rocks off. He inhaled deeply from the joint and held the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds. He glanced around the club, and saw a few Nomads at the bar,
who
had come in earlier in the week to help out with the muscle for the underground fighting ring.

Now that the Grizzly MC was out of the drug mule-
ing
business and into something that was out of the radar of the authorities, everyone was more at ease and less strung-out. Brick inhaled a second time and kept the smoke in for a little longer. He glanced at the stripper, didn’t know her name, but then again most of the females that offered up their pussy to the Grizzly members went by nicknames anyway—same as them. But Brick didn’t care either way what their real or stage names were, and he really didn’t care about all the tits and ass being thrust around the club right now. Yeah, he was a bastard, but never pretended to be anything else. Before he handed the joint off to Diesel, Court’s chick reached out and ran her hand along Brick’s thigh.

“Hey there, Brick.
Wanna
have a little fun with Court and me?” The chick was already drunk, had enough make-up on that there had to be two layers of the shit painted on her face, and stank like she had already screwed several other club members not too long ago.

“Dude, I
ain’t
into seeing your dick or anything, but
Cilly
here can squeeze your cock until it feels like the damn thing is going to pop right off.”

Brick curled his lip at Court’s words. “I’m not into three-ways.” He pushed the female’s hand away and stood. In fact, Brick wasn’t into anything tonight, not unless she was a curvy blonde that went by the name of Darra.
Shit
. He scrubbed his hand over his face and breathed out.
“Jagger here tonight or with his old lady?”
Since Court was now busy making out with
Cilly
he addressed Diesel.

“Nah, he and Sonya headed to Boulder for a few days. She wanted to do some shopping, and, well, he wanted some alone time with his female.” Diesel finished off the joint and crushed the roach in the ashtray beside him.

“I’m crashing here tonight.” Before he turned to leave Diesel was talking to him again.

“What the fuck happened to your head?” Diesel wrapped his hand around a chunk of the female’s hair that was currently sucking him off, but his eyes were trained on Brick. All this sexual shit going on around him wasn’t anything unusual, but that didn’t mean Brick liked being so close to his brothers getting off.

“Nothing.
I just got into a fight at
Summer’s
.”

“Yeah, then who patched you up? Doesn’t seem like Marin would be all into playing nurse, and I can’t see the strippers hopping off the stage to do it.” Diesel was a smart fucker, caught onto a lot of stuff others might overlook, and being the VP of the club had him at a different level, Brick supposed. All of his brothers were intuitive, but Diesel, he was something else.

“That’s not something I feel like talking about right now.”

Diesel lifted one shoulder and looked back at the stripper. “What the fuck ever, but anyone ever tell you that keeping all that darkness bottled up
is
going to ended up rotting your insides?” Diesel kept his attention forward on the ass being shaken in his face.

“Anyone ever tell you that you need to mind your own fucking business?”

Diesel did look at him them.
“Yeah, all the time.”
He grinned. “You’re a grumpy fucker.”

Brick snorted and turned to go to the room that was his when he crashed at the club. Once inside with the door closed behind him, he headed right for the bathroom. He had the stench of the strip club and of the sweat from a day of riding covering his body.

Twenty minutes later and he was lying in the center of the bed, the lights off, and his attention on the ceiling. What he couldn’t get out of his head was the fact Darra had asked him to go to her house for the sole purpose of helping him. No female had ever done that, and aside from the members of his club no one had ever showed him an act of kindness. But for as much as he wanted to explore what he was feeling for the human female, he also told himself that he was toxic, and ultimately would ruin everything that was good inside of her. And she was good.

He had sensed her internal conflicts, but it wasn’t his place to ask or even care about any of that. They didn’t know anything about each other aside from a few basics, and that was where that shit needed to end.

Then why the fuck did you give her your number?

As if he had spoken aloud his cell vibrated on the bedside table. Brick reached over, saw the unfamiliar number, and almost didn’t answer it, but something inside of him had him flipping the cell open and bringing it to his ear.
“Yeah?”

“Brick?”

His pulse raced, and his bear rose up at the sound of Darra’s voice. Instantly Brick was on alert. “You okay?” There was a little bit of shuffling on the other end, and he realized it was the sound of a body moving between sheets.
Her
body moving between the sheets.
 
Fuck
. His dick punched forward, hard as metal.

“I’m fine. It’s late, and I probably shouldn’t have called, but I just wanted to make sure you got home okay.”

For several seconds all he could do was stare at the wall across from him. “You called because you were worried about me?”

She chuckled very softly, and that sound twisted his heart. He scrubbed a hand across his face and lay back down.

“Yeah, pretty stupid of me, I know. You can clearly handle yourself, but you did get hit over the head hard.”

“I’m good.” Another beat of silence and he heard her shift in bed again.

He pictured a lot of nasty things, ones where he stood at the end of her bed, ripped those sheets away from what would be her nude body, and told her to do whatever the fuck he wanted.

“Okay, well, that was all. Again, sorry for calling, and so late at that, but I just wanted to make sure.”

“Yeah … thanks.” Damn, this was the second time tonight he had said those words, and before that, well, he couldn’t remember ever saying them to anyone but a Grizzly member.

“Okay,
bye
then.” She didn’t hang up right away.

When she finally did he pulled the phone away and stared at the screen until it went back. He realized she had been waiting for him to say bye in return. Shutting the phone and tossing it back on the table, Brick realized something right then and there. No way could he walk away from Darra. No fucking way.

****

Darra swung around the silver pole and swayed her hips to the slow, seductive music. She wasn’t doing a solo dance tonight, but the way
Summer’s
was set up there were two other poles on either side of the stage, and then the center one was where the main attraction was held. Currently Cinnamon was rubbing herself all up and down the pole like she was trying to fuck the thing. The bachelor party that was seated right in the front row hooted and hollered, but Darra tuned everyone else out. After the whole Brick thing she had been looking in the paper for something that didn’t require her to work with her top off. Of course Darra had been trying to find something better since moving to this town, but after the crap with that guy she was just tired of it all. If she could just quit she would, but unfortunately she still had to pay her bills and eat. It had taken her six long years to get on her feet, but once she had enough money saved she had chosen to leave the big city in favor of something smaller and a more intimate setting. Maybe running was in her genes. She had picked this small town to call home without even researching it. That had been stupid on her part, but she didn’t regret anything she did anymore. She believed everything happened for a reason. But she did ask herself a lot why she had picked this place to move to, but honestly that was as far as she went in terms of questioning herself.

She turned in a circle, and the beam from the overhead lights passed over her briefly. There were a few guys seated at the table she was dancing on, but her focus was on other things. Sometimes she thought about driving on an open road with nothing but mountains on either side of her. But other times she just pictured her life as someone else’s. She opened her eyes and glanced down when she felt the brush of fingers on her ankle. The guys that came here knew they weren’t supposed to touch. Darra had to squint, but when she saw one of the guys seated at her table her pulse cranked up. She knew him, wouldn’t ever forget him. Not after he slammed that beer bottle over Brick’s head. Why was he even here? Marin should have banned his ass from ever coming back to
Summer’s
after that stunt he pulled. He didn’t smile, didn’t show any emotion. He had since taken his hand from her ankle, but kept it perilously close to her heel.

The music ended, and she quickly climbed down. There was something about the way that guy looked at her that had Darra feeling her skin pucker with unease. Shaking off the sensation and just telling
herself
that he couldn’t intimidate her unless she allowed him to, she headed to the backroom. It was nearly time for her to go, and it hadn’t come soon enough. She had a wad of dollar bills thrust down her thong, and as she walked down the short hallway toward the back, she covered her breasts with her arm. She supposed it didn’t really matter one way or another since everyone had seen her breasts while she danced, but that was when she had been
working
. Right now she wasn’t, and therefore her goods weren’t up to be ogled. Once in the backroom she grabbed her t-shirt and bra, put those on, and changed out of her sequin thong and into a pair of cotton panties. In a place like this her underwear would have been classified as “granny panties” but what the fuck ever. They were comfortable, and that was what mattered. She had placed the wad of bills that she had plucked out of the elastic of her thong before she removed
it,
and now she sat down and started straightening them out and counting them. At the end of the night two hundred dollars in tips was good. So good in fact that she didn’t feel so shitty anymore because she hadn’t found decent work.