Sleeves (4 page)

Most women that came to the club lived fairly close by, or that had been his experience when he chose to go home with one of them.

But they’d been driving for at least twenty minutes now.

Where the hell was she going at this time of night?

He didn’t even catch her name, so all he knew her as was know-it-all-bitch.

She finally arrived in a typical suburban neighborhood, parked in a driveway, and got out of her car. But the way she moved—it was apparent she didn’t live here.

Was this a boyfriend’s house?

She dragged herself up the walkway and knocked quietly at the front door.

Kel watched her from across the street, hiding behind a parked car.

“Hi,” he heard her say to someone that answered the door. “Is he all right? Did he finally go to sleep okay for you?”

There was a muffled sound from inside, but the person waved her in.

She disappeared behind the door, and he was instantly creeping around the car to get a better look.

Before he could find a way to get close enough to peek in through a window, she was back out of the house, carrying in her arms what looked like a sleeping toddler with pale blond hair.

“Fucking great,” he said, skulking back toward his bike. She had a kid. Figured.

He drove back home, his back hunched up, his shoulders rounded forward and his chest tight and feeling congested, like someone filled his lungs with sludge.

What had that bitch done to him? Why’d he let her touch him like that?

He rounded a corner sharply, slid a little, but fixed it with his foot, scraping along the pavement, and leaving behind trails of blood.

It stung and throbbed, but not any worse than when she was touching him.

Damned woman with her soft fucking hands, making him lose control. She was lucky he passed out and nothing worse happened afterward.

He swallowed as a stiff breeze whipped into his face right before he throttled and passed a slow car.

Why’d he let her into the cage in the first place? What had compelled him to even get close to her at all or let her speak to him that way?

She had no idea what kind of danger he’d put her in.

Three minutes later, he was parking his motorcycle at the back of the club and then was stomping his way through his small, attached apartment. He did a quick patch up job on the soles of his feet. Before he could even register the pain there, he was moving through the club.

He was back in that cage before anyone realized he’d entered the room.

There was this excited buzz the moment he spoke. “Who’s ready for this night to
really
get going?”

A perky blonde with big tits seated at the table directly in front of him gave him a shy, but heated look.

“You,” he said, pointing at her.

“Inside?” her friend seated next to her asked.

“Not even gonna buy me dinner first?” he joked.

Both ladies giggled and then the blonde was prodded up to standing. Her large tits failed to bounce, and he inwardly groaned. He despised the surgically enhanced ones.

He hated the artificial ladies with their sprayed-on tans, fake nails, caked-on makeup and too much nauseating thick, spicy perfume. They were usually the whiny ones that had no idea how to grip a man to his satisfaction.

The previous one—the know-it-all-bitch—had smelled clean and a little fruity with floral hints, but nothing overwhelming, and she wore little makeup, was pale and had short nails without polish. And goddammit, did she touch him right.

Twitch.

Jesus. Really? He was attracted to natural blondes, not
her
.

She was okay-looking with her long auburn, glossy hair with loose curls and her shocking deep blue eyes. But normally, he liked the petite, cute ones with light colored hair and eyes. They reminded him of the woman he’d always long to have again.

So what if the know-it-all-bitch was curvier than most and average height, which meant he could tower over her, like he craved, but still . . . There was nothing special about her.

Only she was able to touch him. It hurt, a lot, but he withstood. He didn’t break her. There was something about her.

He bit his bottom lip, gave the blonde woman a come hither finger, and as soon as she was near the cage, his hand lashed out and he gripped her wrist, startling her.

She gasped and jumped.

He pulled her wrist up to his nostrils and took a whiff.

The ladies in the crowd hooted and hollered, cat calling after them, but it was done not only to incite them and make this woman before him go nuts, but also to calm him down, get rid of his arousal.

She did nothing for him, and thinking about the know-it-all-bitch, made his testicles ache and his cock harden once more.

One time was enough for tonight.

This tramp would not be touching him anywhere near his dick—now or ever.

“Chain me, whore,” he said, snapping his teeth at her wrist.

Her eyes darkened and she fidgeted and squirmed.

“How?”

“Grab the fucking chain on the ground, loop it around my wrists and keep your cunt safe from me,” he said, his eyes lighting up.

“There’s nothing to keep the chain to your wrists,” she pointed out.

“Then grab my cuffs on the ground, and hook me up, skank.” He used his foot to slide the cuffs across the ground—the one’s he’d broken earlier when he’d been with the auburn-haired, voluptuous woman. The know-it-all that made his teeth clamp down and his dick lengthen.

That bitch he was struggling to dump out of his brain.

“O-kaaaay,” the woman drawled, leaned over, her tits almost spilling out of her too tight blouse, and then she picked them up.

She examined them, and he thrust his hands out of the bars. “I’ll make it easy for you. I’ll keep my hands here, where you can get to them. You hook them together, chain me and you’ll see exactly how to break me out.”

“Oh,” she said, beaming at him.

“Should be easy, even for you.” He smirked.

“Hey,” she squeaked.

“What? I meant for someone as beautiful and distracting as you are, it should be simple.”

His statement didn’t even make sense in this context, but he knew her type, and figured all her vain flighty brain heard was he thought she was hot.

“Uh, thanks,” she said, her face going blank like she had lost her train of thought. Her eyes wandered over his feet, his legs and of course, his cock.

It was flaccid at this point. Surprise, surprise. If he wanted it hard, he’d have to think of someone other than this blonde Barbie.

“I was going to, but you . . .”

“Did I move too much?” He stretched his neck, popping it, fighting against the strain in his spine. She was driving him nuts.

Could she move any slower? He could almost hear her thoughts trickling through her brain like coffee brewing in a pot.

Drip.

One thought.

Drip.

One and a half thoughts.

Drip.

Oh wait . . .

Back a thought.

Please, God, sit her ass back down. Make her trip on the air leaking out of her head.

Her percolating tedious thoughts were killing him.

“If you don’t chain me up this instant, I’ll grope your tits right in front of all of these ladies, and I’ll shred your bra so you’ll leave here with those things you call melons, hanging out.”

“Oh!” She jumped away from him and glared. “I think I should . . .”

“Yeah, sit down.” He pointed at her friend. “You. Do you think you can handle this?”

“Hell yeah!” she shouted and jumped up as the blonde slumped into her chair, pouting.

“Make it tight, whore.”

“What did you call me?”

“You heard me, you stupid cunt. Make it tight and uncomfortable, like your panties riding your crack.” He chuckled low and deep in his chest.

She swung at him. Her hand missed him and barely kept from hitting the bars.

He jumped around behind his barrier the cage provided, taunting her, weaving back and forth like he was ready to box with her.

“That’s it. Show’s over,” Max said, stepping from behind the bar.

He yanked the curtain back around the cage and when Kel shook the bars, Max called out, “One drink for each of you—on the house!”

The women all roared in delight, and there were shuffling of feet, more squeals and then whining about what a douche Kel had been moments ago.

“. . . not like him; he’s usually so seductive,” some woman said from nearby, her mouth clearly full of a drink.

He was barely listening. What was the point? He didn’t care what they thought about him, and they’d never fully comprehend exactly how sick he was.

Like a true deviant asshole, he was on the ground, lying on top of his puddle of come, staring up at the ceiling.

His heart raced as he remembered touch.

Remembered breath on his skin.

Remembered soft and sympathetic eyes, when she had no idea what kind of blackness stirred through his thick veins.

Shhhhhwwwwiiip!

The curtain was swung open for a second and then promptly closed behind on the know-it-all-bitch’s friend; the dark-haired woman. He’d given her a chance tonight and last weekend to set him free. Of course she failed. They all did.

She hung her hands on the bars and gave him a condescending look, her lips pursed.

He clicked his tongue, and let his mind go blank.

What else was there to do? What could she even want from him at this point anyway?

“Feel good about yourself?” she asked, her hands twisting on the bars.

“Fuck you, and, oh yeah, fuck your bitch of a friend, too. You both suck ass.” He tried to swallow but his throat was tight and gravity was making it difficult in this position as well. Instead, he wound up making some hideous, gurgling sound.

“Figured you’d say that. Blame it all on her, huh, when all she did was treat you like a human, when the rest of those ladies, including me, wanted to treat you like nothing more than a piece of man-meat. A tasty bit of man-meat, but it still makes you nothing more than a wiener.” She smirked. “So, now that you’ve told me to fuck off after I bothered to come back here when I’d already left the club, you wanna try this again?” She paused and shifted her weight to the right then leaned into the bars. “Do you feel good about yourself—acting like a total prick, scaring people tonight?”

“I said—fuck. You. I own this shit-hole, and I can do whatever I want.” He closed his eyes and focused on the sound of the white-noise of voices in the background and glasses chinking on tables and bar-tops.

She exhaled with a grunt. “Fine. Lose your nightclub and your clients. I was actually going to help you out, but now . . .” She turned to part the curtains.

“Help me how?” He popped one eye open and studied her from the periphery.

She slowly curved back toward him. “I was going to give you Casey’s number.”

“
Casey
—that’s the know-it-all-bitch’s name?” A rush of something too stupid to name went straight through his spine, landing in his toes, making them scrunch for a moment. And all at the thought of the know-it-all-bitch, wanting to have something to do with him. Fuck, he was a pathetic piece of man-meat as this woman before him put it.

She nodded and smiled.

“And why would I want
her
number? She’s annoying as hell.” He’d already followed her and that hadn’t turned out well.

“Because, ass-hat—unlike the women you’re normally surrounded with, she didn’t even want to be here. You seem like you could use someone to talk to—
really
talk to. And from where I was watching out in the audience, you seemed hooked on every word she said. She wasn’t about to touch you without understanding why you do this, or who you are. She’s actually a
de-cent persssooooon.
” She accented and dragged out the last two words like he was a moron.

“Fine—whatever. I don’t give a fuck. Just leave it on the ground if you want, and then fuck off. I’ve got things to do.” He threw his arm over his eyes and sighed.

“Like what? Solve the dilemma of how to get the hell out of here tonight without being mobbed by those women you offended? By the way, nice move there, genius.”

“What part of
fuck you
don’t you get?” He rolled away from her.

“The part where you’re the one saying it to someone lending a hand.”

Click!

His head turned back toward her, and his eyes went wide when he figured out what she was doing.

“You’re welcome, you waste of man-meat.” She opened the door to the cage she’d unlocked, bent down and shoved a business card toward him a few inches across the floor. Her eyes narrowed at him as she paused for a moment, and then she left, closing the curtain back up behind her.