I grinned back at her. “Why are you all the way over there?”
She laughed. “Because you are looking like the big bad wolf right now.”
My smile got wider, and even I could admit it was probably a bit on the wolfish side. I crept toward her. “Don’t you want me to eat you?”
She smiled wide and it fucking stunned me with its beauty. Would I ever become immune to her smile? I hoped not. I wanted to feel like this for fucking eternity. “Only if you catch me, Horseman,” she laughed.
I growled as I lunged toward her, chasing her around the room, dodging bikes and tools. She hurdled a Fat Boy, standing on the other side of a chopper. “You know, you’re pretty slow for an immortal. It must be because you are so damn huge,” she breathed.
“You don’t seem to complain about how big I am when I’m inside you.” A little tremor ran across her skin, and I wanted to crow in satisfaction.
She goes left, and I dodged right, but big or not, I was quick enough to catch her with the tips of my fingers, grabbing her tank top and dragging her back into my body. With her back pressed against my aching cock, I leaned forward, taking her earlobe in my teeth and nipping. “I got you, I got you, and now I get to eat you,” I purred, and she moaned, her body arching toward mine. I kissed down her neck, my hand slipping beneath her hair to push it to the side so my lips could continue mapping the outline of her spine.
She said my name breathily, and it took every ounce of my willpower not to bend her over a bike and fuck her senseless.
I slid my hands around to her smooth stomach, letting my fingers trace down, down, down to the waistband of her jeans. I flicked open the button and let my fingers skim downwards. She stilled, not even breathing, and when my fingers slipped into her panties and found her hot core, I moaned. “Breathe Sera, I am going to make you feel so good,” I whispered against her neck, and her pleasure noises were like a beautiful soundtrack.
When the door to the garage slammed open, I didn’t try to hold back the growl. If that was Solomon, I was going to shoot the fucker in the dick.
Instead, one of the strippers from Apocalypse was standing in the doorway, wearing too few clothes for this time of night. She had on a tiny mini-skirt and a denim jacket, a crop top underneath showing her toned, flat stomach. I tightened my arms around Sera, hoping she didn’t think I brought strippers here all the time.
“Cain?” the girl, Cherry-Mae I think, called softly into the room, and I growled as I removed my hand from Sera’s panties. Fucking fuckhole.
I stalked toward Cherry-Mae, probably looking scary as fuck if the terror on her face was anything to go by. I took a moment to take a deep breath, slipping my mask back on.
“Hey Cherry-Mae. What can I do for you?” I sounded pleasant as fuck, and not like I had a dick harder than a rock and the worlds most painful set of blue balls.
The girl shifted from foot to foot, looking way too young to be dancing on a pole. “I didn’t know who else to tell, and Ricky didn’t want to hear about it.”
Sera walked up behind me, her hand on my back possessively. Hell yeah, my angel didn’t want anyone else to touch me, jealous little kitten. If anything, the sight of Sera seemed to calm Cherry-Mae. “One of the other dancers, Bambi, hasn’t shown up for work for the last couple of days, and I’m worried. She wouldn’t blow off this job. She needs it.”
I gave her what I hoped was a soft look. “She probably found something better. Maybe she met a guy. Girls leave Apocalypse all the time, Cherry. I’m sure she's fine.”
Cherry-Mae shook her head. “She wouldn’t have, Cain. She had a brother in a facility in Cali, expensive, and she needs this job to keep up the payments otherwise he’s out on the streets. She wouldn’t just up and leave. She was smart. She’d never burn her bridges here, even for a man, because we both know that men aren’t fucking trustworthy, they just want to fuck you and forget you, so you never know when you might need a job back, you know?”
She seemed to realize she’d insulted me. “Not you, though Cain. You wouldn’t do that to a woman.” She looked enviously at Sera, but there was no malice in it. Cherry was like a fucking lamb in a slaughterhouse at Apocalypse. But the clientele ate up that lost lamb thing she had going on, and I knew for a fact she could pull in eight hundred bucks on an exceptionally good night. She also wasn’t prone to dramatics.
“You’ve been by her house?”
Cherry-Mae nodded. “Yeah, we have each other's spare key, you know, in case one of us slips in the bath and dies. The weird thing was that Bambi wasn’t there, but her handbag and shit was.” Her eyes well with tears, and I grimaced.
“Okay, Cherry. We’ll check it out. I’ll get Trigger onto it, to see if there's any word on the street on where Bambi has gone. Don’t worry kid, we’ve got it.”
Sera bit her lip. “You should probably file a missing persons report anyway. Just in case, you know, she’s turned up at any of the hospitals.” Or morgues. “Was, uh, Bambi her real name.”
Cherry-Mae gave me a disbelieving look. “Who’d call their kid Bambi? Nah, her real name is Gemma. Gemma Deerborn.”
Sera gave a soft huff of laughter. “Hence the Bambi. I like it.”
Cherry-Mae gave us a wistful look. “Gemma is a funny bitch like that.” She was speaking like the girl was dead, and I didn’t like it one bit. “I told Ricky that I was going to file a report, and he said that the Club wouldn’t want cops sniffing around so if I wanted to keep my job, I had better keep my mouth shut.” The look of repulsion in her eyes when she talked about her boss got my hackles up. It mirrored how I felt about the strip club owner, though I never made it known to anyone but the ranking members.
I didn’t like the fact that Ricky was speaking for the Club, even if it was just to the dancers. I didn’t like that he tried to keep Cherry-Mae quiet. It all made my gut churn, and I trusted my gut more than I ever trusted my logic.
“I see.” I walked over to the lockbox, pulling out a grand. I handed it to Cherry. “Take a vacation. Come back and see me in about two weeks.”
Cherry-Mae seemed to hesitate, until Sera pulled out her phone. “Give me your number. I’ll keep you up to date on how the search for Gemma is going.”
A relieved look passed across Cherry-Mae’s face, and she quickly programmed her number into Sera’s phone, and took my envelope of cash. “I’m not a fucking snitch, but the Pres should know. He’s drugging the dancers and fucking them in the back office. Some of them don’t mind, free high you know? But not all of them.”