Текст книги "Degrade"
Автор книги: T. L. Smith
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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 13 страниц)
In the flush of love’s light, we dare be brave. And suddenly we see that love costs all we are, and will ever be. Yet it is only love which sets us free.
~Maya Angelou~
She has tricks, useful tricks, and she’s using them against me. I may be able to play with her mind, but she’s proving to be just as good. Though she couldn’t hold up on her end, so that gives me hope.
I meant what I said, though. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Whether I like to admit it or not, she’s worked her way into my life. Placed herself there, unable for me to let her go. Though I know a time will come when I have to as she can’t last forever in my life. My life is not for someone like her. I started in my businesses young, got into dealing drugs and was good at it. Didn’t smoke all my money away, and didn’t do bad deals. My parents didn’t know. I kept my business hidden for years.
My life wasn’t easy though, I’ve been through a lot. I joined the MC when I was eighteen, I met them through my drug dealings. The president at the time suggested I join and I pledged and worked my way up to president. I’ve killed people, I’ve been shot at, and I’ve been stabbed. None of this changed the person I was, it just made me stronger. A man to be feared, but I had something most didn’t. I was smart. I knew how to run a business, how to keep it hidden, and how to employ the right people. And if someone thought they could fuck with me, then they were dead. Questions weren’t asked or needed.
My mother thinks I run restaurants. My father knows about the MC, but nothing more other than that. I’m good at what I do, I have business’s everywhere, and with those businesses I’ve made connections in very high places. Ones that would do anything to help me with what I have on them, all of them. Especially what I have on their wives. They will do anything to protect their image…anything. So the law stays out of my way. It doesn’t interfere with me or my business. I am the most dangerous and richest son-of-a-bitch in America.
****
It’s the weekend and that usually means business with clients. Tonight is no different. I’m at a strip club, one that I own with the Hard Knox MC. Dunk is sitting next to me, but his attention is on the stage where a stripper is now completely naked. I bring out a bag of coke that the boys want to test. Test so they can sell. A few of the strippers come over, obviously the sight of drugs has attracted them. One sits on my lap, the other on the other man’s lap. They all line up the coke and snort, even the girls. Me, well, I don’t dabble in that shit anymore. Lost interest, started making me slower than usual, addicted, waiting for my next hit. That’s how I got shot the first time.
“This is going to sell fast, boss,” Dunk says, the vice president of my MC. Yes, that’s right, mine. I have twelve chapters spread over the country, this one being the biggest.
It’s not all I do though, I dabble in a lot. So Dunk takes charge of the club when I can’t, he’s a good man. Always got my back, looking after the things I can’t. The boys cheer in response and slap some of the girls’ asses and they squeal in delight.
“You going to fuck one of these whores tonight, boss?” one of my men asks. He’s new, just patched in. Dunk punches him in the arm and tells him to shut it. I smile and shake my head.
Bexley doesn’t know about a lot of what I do, she knows only of the restaurants and clubs that I own. She helps me out at the front desk of my office two days a week, and sometimes she questions some things, but hardly ever.
My businesses range from primarily black and white, white being the restaurants, my front. My black being my dirtier businesses, the one's Dunk and Dominic look after, the drugs and the sex slaves. That’s how Aria is involved; Dominic picks the girls and runs that side of the business. He’s fucked more than most, he can handle it better than any. The thing is, though, I love a woman’s body, and so I switched a few things up. I don’t sell women for slavery, I sell men. The girls bring them in, and they break them down. Then they’re sold to lonely old women whose husbands are out fucking young girls, who only want them for their money. It’s my best business, and so far, Aria is my biggest money-maker. The men fall at her feet, she breaks them, fucks with their heads, then sells them to the women she picks. No, most of my women don’t get to pick who they’re sold to. Except Aria, she’s in very high and she’s good. Word has gotten out to the lonely housewives at how good the men are that she’s bringing in.
I don’t want Bexley around her too much. Aria has defiance in her, too much defiance for someone who might influence my Bexley. I like her the way she is, at my command. But I can see the way she looks at Aria, she likes her. Likes the way she is, how she takes no shit. I think that’s what attracted her to me as well. She likes strong people, likes to surround herself with them.
The girls wipe their noses and stand, thanking us for the goods and start doing a lap dance on each of us. I don’t object. This is their payment for getting high. I sit back and let the girl who’s wearing a black wig shake her ass in my face in a tiny G-string. She grinds her ass on my lap, making my cock twitch, but nothing more. She turns and stands tall and slowly undoes her bra when she drops it I can’t help but think Bexley does this better. More sex appeal, more emotions in her eyes which shine brightly with want. This girl has one thing on her mind, sex and drugs. That’s all she’s here for, all she wants.
She crawls on my lap, licking a line up my neck. Then she brings another line of coke over and snorts it from my neck. I let her, don’t stop her. She starts grinding herself on me, not doing anything for me but trying to please her boss. Just as her head goes back and her breasts are shoved in my face, she’s removed as fast as she was there. And in her spot stands Bexley, looking very pissed off. And a smiling Aria is standing right behind her.
I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.
~Martin Luther King, Jr.~
I’m pissed, no scratch that, I want to scrape someone’s eyes out. Zeke is sitting there with a smug smile on his face, not caring that I just saw him with a woman basically screwing him in a strip club. I didn’t plan on seeing him tonight, I came out with Aria and Jagger. It was Jagger’s idea to come to this place. Now I wonder why. Did he know that he would be here and basically screwing a woman? The men around us stand up; I take no notice of them. But I hear Aria’s voice, “I would sit, or fuck off if I were you.” I don’t know what they do, my eyes are solely trained on Zeke. Who’s now sporting a hard on.
“You want a whore?” I ask him, his smile grows wider and I instantly slap him across his face without him having time to react. When he does his facial features become hard, and he stands. I take a step back and hear the murmuring of voices around me, realizing we still have an audience.
“Don’t do that again, Bexley,” he sneers, pressing himself against me, his hard dick touching me. I don’t back down from him, I won’t.
“Don’t fucking touch another woman again,” I shout back at him.
“I told you, I’m not yours, but you are mine. So don’t tell me what to do. Remember the rule, Bexley,” he warns me.
“Oh, I remember your fucking rule, asshole. Fuck you,” I say and go to slap him again. He stops me mid-slap, and I feel Aria step up to my back.
“What are you doing, Aria,” Zeke says looking over my shoulder. I turn my head slowly to see a look of death on her face, she’s pissed.
“I’m taking Bexley with me, let go of her hand, Zeke,” she warns. The men around us stand up, and I realize they all have MC cuts on. Fuck!
“You work for me, Aria,” he says not letting go of my hand. I look back at her and watch as a smile grows on her face.
“That may be so, but don’t think I won’t put a bullet in one of these boys’ brains before they touch me.” The men stop, all except Dunk.
“You can take her,” he says, guessing she will do what she says. He drops my hand and takes a step back. Aria touches my shoulders.
“You can come to my place tomorrow to get her when you’ve cooled off,” she says and grabs my hand and pulls me away. She blows a kiss to the boys and then gives them the finger.
The drive to Aria’s is quiet. She doesn’t usually live here, so she’s renting a small house with large acreage. Jagger came with her.
“I know just the thing to help you unwind,” she says walking to the back of the house. I follow her and she turns on a switch which lights up the backyard. The area is basically a shooting range, boards all set up, ready to play. She picks up her archery gear and relaxes her shoulders, shooting and hitting the bullseye. She tells me what to do and I’m hopeless, I can’t even get the arrow to go anywhere near the board. She laughs and opens a chest and it’s full of guns.
“Will you get in trouble?” I ask her, hoping she won’t.
“For defending you?” she asks me.
“Yes.”
“Probably, I’m sure Dominic would love to spank me for it. But not too much, I’m their money maker,” she says smiling.
“What is it that you do?” She gives me an evil smile, but it’s mixed with happiness.
“Are you sure you want to know?”
I nod my head.
“I’m a trafficker, Bexley.” My eyes open wide, she must register my shock ‘cause she starts laughing.
“That’s the same thing Jagger did. You sure you don’t want a man like my brother instead of Zeke?” she asks raising her eyebrows.
“What do you traffic?”
“I traffic men, Bexley.”
“You…what?” I ask stunned.
“It’s what I’m good at. I get gorgeous young men, break them down, then sell them to the old ladies. It’s why I’m here. I had to meet a new client, a very exclusive client.” She reaches in and goes to hand me a gun, I shake my head at her still trying to take in everything she’s said.
“And Zeke is your boss?”
“Technically, yes. But, Dominic is my actual boss. Dominic is the King Pin and Zeke is the money.”
“Wow!”
“And Bexley, he’s extremely dangerous. Please be careful around him.”
“He wouldn’t hurt me,” I say to her just above a whisper. She grabs a bigger gun, and under that I see a sniper rifle. I grab it, set it up, and lay down in the grass. I start shooting. I’m good at it, always have been. My family has taught me well. I hit every target straight on.
“Woo-hoo girl, who knew,” she says sounding impressed.
“Very impressive, Bexley,” comes a voice from behind me. I know that voice could pick it absolutely anywhere.
“Tell me, what else don’t I know?” he asks. I stand up and brush the grass off myself.
“I will shoot you if you touch another woman again,” I warn. Aria laughs and waves goodbye as she heads back to the house. I look up at Zeke and see him looking at the markers out on the field. I hit the bullseye on everyone.
“No touching,” he says sounding impressed.
“No letting them touch,” I say.
“No letting them,” he says taking a step closer.
“Bullet if you do, to remember me after I leave you,” I say meaning what I say.
“Never again,” he says stepping even closer. Wrapping his arms around me, mine circle him. “Don’t ever lay your hands on me again, Bexley. I have a short temper.”
I nod my head in his chest. “You’re a bad man, aren’t you, Zeke?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“The worst, Bexley. The worst,” he says sending a shiver up my spine, but he squeezes me tighter.
Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within.
~James A. Baldwin~
She knows some of the things I do. Aria told her, I know she did. I was listening. She took it calmer than I thought. I was expecting her to yell and scream. Leave me, even. Though she did none of those things, she worked me to her advantage, made me make promises I would never give to anyone else. But she surprised me, even with that gun. She’s one of the best shooters I’ve seen, and I have seen a lot. She shot each target as skilled as someone who is trained.
“You like her,” I ask her, referring to Aria.
“Yes, she’s no bullshit. It’s refreshing,” she says smirking, wrapping her arms around me. I follow and wrap my arms around her, bringing her closer.
“I don’t bullshit you, Bexley,” I tell her, wanting to gauge her reaction.
“Mmmhmm,” is all she says smiling. My hands circle around her face, one on each of her cheeks. I lean her face back and just look, I can’t say it enough, think it enough that she’s literally breathtaking. She smiles up at me, and I lean down placing a soft kiss to her lips. Her hands now cover mine, over her face. And she reaches up to deepen the kiss, I let her.
“Are you two going to suck face all night or come and play guitar hero with me,” Aria’s voice sings out. Bexley smiles and pulls away from me. She starts to walk off and stops mid-step looking back at me, a mischievous smile taking over.
“If you play for at least an hour, I’ll let you have me any way you want,” she says shaking her ass and then running inside. And what kind of man would I be if I didn’t follow?
“Oh, come on, Aria. I so kicked your ass in that one,” Bexley whines. Aria places her hand on her hip and holds the guitar, her eyebrows raised.
“P…p…please! No one can beat me, I’m the mother-fucking-queen of this game.”
“I won, didn’t I, Zeke?” Bexley says and both eyes turn to me. Bexley smiling sweetly, Aria threatening that she may kill me with her guitar if I don’t pick her.
“You won. Sis is just not used to losing, she’ll get over it.” Jagger steps up from behind us laughing.
“Fuck you all, leave my house.” Aria shoots her hands up pointing to the door.
“I’ll see you next week?” Bexley asks leaning in kissing her cheek then pulling me out the door. Aria mutters something not appropriate and Bexley laughs.
Bexley tells me how she ended up at the club and that it was Jagger’s idea. I will definitely be having a chat to Jagger about that. She also tells me how fond of Aria she is. I try telling her not to get too attached to her and she laughs at me.
“You tell me that about us, Zeke,” she says laughing.
“Yes, and I’m right, you shouldn’t. I will only break your heart. Because I will break your heart, Bexley. There isn’t a doubt in my mind. Remember all the times I warned you, and those times you chose not to listen to me.”
“How can you do that? How can you go from a great evening to ruining it with your awful words? I’m not asking you to declare your love, Zeke, I’m asking you to just end a good night on a high note. But no, you have to fuck it up with all your stupid rules and precautions.” She leans away from me in the car and stares out the window, entirely ignoring my presence now.
“I don’t want you to think I’m your happily ever after, Bexley. I’m not. I’m your hell, you just haven’t realized it yet.”
“Just shut up talking and take me home,” she mutters, ignoring me.
When we pull up to the house, she’s quiet. She is quiet when she enters, and she’s quiet as she strips down to nothing and climbs in bed facing away from me.
“Don’t act like this is news to you, Bexley. Don’t act like I hurt you every time I tell you the truth. I won’t lie to you about any of this. What I say is the truth.” I hear her sigh. She’s slowly coming to terms, I think, that this won’t last forever. But right now, now is all that matters.
Love makes your soul crawl out of its hiding place.
~Zora Neale Hurtson~
These are my thoughts as soon as I wake, it happens every time. No matter what. They consume me. I guess I’m trying to make myself believe that my love will be enough. That it is enough. Though, as I reach my hand out to touch his toned and chiseled body, my thoughts take a back burner. I run my hand along his stomach, slowing wanting it to go lower. Just as I reach his waistband, he clasps my hand in his and stops me. He throws my hand to the side and steps from the bed, not even throwing me a backwards glance. My heart breaks a little bit each time he does this to me. I’m afraid if nothing changes, and I don’t receive the tiniest bit of affection, I will become a shell of the person I was. I will basically become his whore, only there for when he needs to fuck. Never to make love. It’s purely a sexual, animal act. There’s never a trace of love when it comes to him.
I watch as he walks from the shower, dripping wet. Making my pussy come to life with just the look of him. He’s what I’d say the devil sculpted. Why the devil you ask? Because God would never be so cruel as to make a man so perfect as him to torture me. He would give me a man to love, a man that would show me an ounce of love and affection back. So, he must be the devil. He’s perfect in every way, except the way that counts.
The heart.
I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even have a heart. And that alone breaks my heart again. Even though I know he doesn’t love me, I love him. I believe that that’s enough. Well, that’s what I keep telling myself.
He stands at the end of the bed naked as the day he was born. His toned and sun-kissed skin glistening from the water that’s still dripping from him. He looks up at me, and my eyes travel the length of him as I feel his eyes boring into mine. He. Is. Deadly. Anyone who knows him knows this. But looks can be deceiving. He isn’t covered in tattoos, hell he doesn’t even smoke. His eyes are blue though sometimes they turn gray when he’s angry, very angry. His hair is long on top and he usually styles it so the top flips back. It’s shaven around the sides, and if someone tried to pull his haircut off, I don’t think it would ever look as good as it does on him. His body, well his body is made of the devil, including his face, the devil I tell you. It’s something no woman or man can resist. It has that pull, where you want to run your tongue over every inch of him. His cheekbones are high and pronounced. His eyelashes are long, his body is pure muscle, and I don’t think there’s an inch of fat on him at all. His cock is massive, and it hits all those perfect spots when he slides into me, which makes my pussy clench even harder just thinking about sex with him. His ass, though, his ass I have to say was sculpted by the gods. It’s the best ass I’ve ever seen, and I have seen a few. It has no hair, thank God. And its round, which makes me want run my hands over it.
“You staying in bed all day?” his loud gruff voice makes my eyes snap to his. His voice is one that commands. He’d make a perfect Dom with a rough voice like that. He tips his head to the side when I don’t answer, getting impatient with me. He’s still naked, placing his suit on the bed waiting for me to answer, so he can continue his task of getting dressed and be gone.
“No,” I answer looking in his eyes. He pulls his pants up then slides into a crisp white shirt. He grabs his tie and starts to do it up when I stand. Fully naked. His eyes appreciate me for a second before they go back to the task at hand – getting dressed. I walk past him and go straight to the shower, I hear him as he leaves not even saying a simple goodbye and I sigh inside. Why is he like this? Why does he even keep me around? I know I should leave him and that I could find someone to love me like I’m meant to. But I just can’t stand the thought of leaving him.
After I’m showered and dressed, I apply some light makeup and make my way out of our bedroom. I stop when I hear voices, trying to listen to what they’re talking about.
“Come on, Zeke,” I hear from Cora’s mouth.
She’s a whore, always trying to fuck Zeke.
“Remove your hands,” his voice is stern. I smile and walk around the corner. Her eyes shoot to mine, and she drops her hands smirking at me. Zeke doesn’t say a word as he walks past her to head into his office.
I live here with Zeke, his house is beautiful. It consists of three bedrooms and a beautiful outdoor area with a patio and pool. It overlooks the ocean and it’s breathtaking. I walk to the kitchen not even bothering to give Cora the time of day, but she smiles at me. I don’t return it. She must think I’m completely blonde. I know she wants Zeke. Fuck, most women do. I see it all the time. He never gives them the time of day though, and that always makes me smile.
I pour Zeke and myself a cup of coffee and once it’s ready, I take it into his office. Because today is Friday, he usually doesn’t work all day, though today looks different. As soon as I step in, my eyes find him sitting at his desk clicking madly on the mouse at the computer. His eyes shoot to mine when I close the door behind me. They roam up and down and then without a second glance, he goes straight back to what he was doing on the computer. I walk so I'm standing next to him and place his coffee on the table.
“I’m going out,” I say, wanting some kind of reaction. Possibly telling me to stay with him as my hopes are high. When he answers, his eyes don’t look to me.
“Good, I have plans,” he says, dismissing me. I look to him one more time before I head out. I wonder if I should just leave, and if I left for long would he even notice? I highly doubt it.
As I walk from the office, I see Cora sitting at her desk in front of his office. She’s his receptionist. She looks up at me and once again I don’t acknowledge her. I’ve heard her sly remarks about me several times before. She’s someone I never want to get to know on a deeper level. As I move away from his office, which is also linked to the front entry so his clients won’t wander through the house, I make my way to the kitchen to grab my purse from the bench deciding I’m going shopping. I need to clear my head.
I meet Ember at the local shopping center and she smiles when she sees me, embracing me in a hug and pulls back to look at me. Ember is beautiful, her mother is Pilipino and her father is American. She has long, dark, straight hair and a perfect figure. Me, well, my hair is blonde and cut short in a bob that shapes around my face.
“What’s wrong, babe? That man of yours didn’t fulfill his duties this morning?” she asks with a wink, dragging me along as she starts to walk to the closest shops. She doesn’t wait for me to answer as she starts throwing dresses at me. She’s gifted when it comes to clothes. I guess that’s also a part of her job, though. She dresses the stars; picks their clothes for the important occasions. Obviously not all, though the list she dresses is quite impressive. And I must admit, sometimes has me jealous.
“I’ve decided, that we’re going out tonight. I need a drink and possibly a fuck,” she says emphasizing it by thrusting her hips. She’s so different, and I love her for that. She doesn’t know much about Zeke. She knows him and what he wants to show the world which, of course, isn’t much.
“Where are we going?” I ask carrying the dresses to the dressing room. She smiles at me. “Who the fuck cares!” And that’s the end of that.
As I pull the dress up, there’s one that’s a lovely violet color and it brings back memories of when I first met Zeke. Why didn’t I say no?