Page 2 of Razor's Property

I turn my head, staring them down, watching them lust after her. Their tongues are hanging from their drooling mouths. Hands gripped around their cocks with absolutely no shame as they rub themselves off to her. Anger starts to boil up my chest, threatening to erupt. My fists clench in my lap. My body practically shaking.

“Here’s your check, Razor.” The waitress sets down my bill and I shake my head.

“Bring me another.”

My voice gets snagged on my nerves, coming out rough. Sharp. The girl hesitates, her curiosity burning against my face again, then finally, she rushes off, and my focus is narrowly centered back on the stage, back on the girl who used to be sweet and innocent. She was the image of perfection. The girl next door. Cheerleader, good grades, pretty as an angel. But that pretty has transformed into something along the lines of turbulent. Trying to knock me on my ass and taking the wind straight from my lungs. She’s sexy as fucking sin. Temptation bred in every sinful curve.

At eighteen, her curves were slight, not having fully developed. At twenty-six, they’ve filled in… and are more than ample. And all real. A set of tits that haven’t been bought or paid for, spilling over the top of her shimmery bra, fuller than I ever imagined. Her hips have filled out too, no longer skin and bones, but now proof she’s a woman. About the only thing that’s exactly the same is that silken mahogany hair, which still hangs in long, loose curls down her back. Flowing like a true beauty.

She always was the prettiest girl I had ever seen. Not sure what word I’d use to describe her now. None exist to measure up to the one dancing before me.

She’s looking out toward the crowd as she moves around the stage, but she’s not making eye contact with anyone in particular. Not sure if it’s by choice, choosing the back wall as her focal point, or if she’s struggling to see anything beyond the spotlights, which are beaming down in her eyes. She still hasn’t turned to this side of the stage. Still hasn’t caught sight of me sitting by the edge.

I wonder if she’d even recognize me. She never saw me with a full beard. Or with full ink. Mine runs down my neck now and the full length of my arms and chest, dipping beneath my jeans. I ain’t that clean-cut kid she remembers. I’ve grown a hell of a lot darker inside and out.

And I’m not sure what the fuck happened to her. She was all smarts, straight As, and going places, but she wound up in this strip club, dancing for men who think of her as nothing more than a paid whore. Shouting obscenities and begging for her to take her top off. They’ll tip her extra for a fuck in the back. Buy her a car to be their little side piece.

Fuck!

My jaw tightens under the pressure of that truth. I don’t like the fact that she’s in this place. Kensington shouldn’t be stripping in this sketchy club, which is sittin’ off the highway where she could find herself getting hurt. Truckers ride in from all parts as they haul their freight from one end of the country to the other. They’re liable to shove her in the back of their cab and haul her off; do who knows what with her. These fuckers are dangerous.

“Decided to stay, huh?”

My view is suddenly obstructed as Kitty steps in front of me. Her tits forced in my face as she grips the handles of my chair, caging me in with her intention. Don’t think I’ve ever met anyone so determined. Doesn’t she realize it’s a turnoff? Goingafter what you want is one thing, but she’s starting to smell desperate. I guess it’s time I’m gonna have to spell it out for her.

“Do you want to come in the back for a private dance, Razor?” She slithers up my frame, causing me to lean back so I don’t get hit in the cheek with her nipple. “I promise I’ll make it good for you. Real good,” she moans as she squeezes her tits in my face, sliding over my junk. She does this to the other men, expecting them to put money between her cleavage. I’ll pay her if she’ll leave.

“Didn’t tell you you could touch me, doll.”

My harsh tone has her jerking back. She shifts, slowly peeling herself off my lap. Suddenly looking unsure of what to do next. She should walk away and leave me alone, but she doesn’t. Which means I’m going to have to be blunt.

“I’m not interested, doll. Came here for a drink. Nothing more. Now, run along to someone who wants what you’re offering.”

“Are you married?” She looks down at my hand.

There’s no ring. Only loved one girl. The one who she’s blocking my view of. The one taking off her fucking clothes for a bunch of slime-bags. Last I checked, Kensy was in college, going places with her life, smiling up at some stiff-necked, scholar boy on campus. Straitlaced and not fucking running with a bunch of one-percenters. I wanted to strangle the kid, the jealousy nearly paralyzing me in madness, but… I knew he was the better choice for her. He wouldn’t drag her into the trenches of the danger I was living in. He would be able to give her the life she wanted. The one she deserved.

I’d chosen my path. I was King’s henchman. A Savage Knight. Brother by oath and bound by secrets. Still am and will always be a member of the brotherhood. But after shit went down and we lost Rubble, after what happened to Skully, I had to hit the road. Came out to my grandad’s old cabin and I haven’t gone back.

What I want to know is why the hell she’s here? She was a good girl with a bright future ahead of her. Why the fuck is she now up on that stage strippin’ for cash?

“Razor?”

Forgot Kitty was waitin’ on an answer. What was the question? Right.Am I married? Nah, I fucked that up real good. I’ll never forget the look in Kensy’s eyes. The sheer pain I put her through. It’s a demon that still haunts me to this day.

“Not married. Nor am I interested. Now, move along.”

“I get off at one if you change your mind.”

Damn, she’s still not gettin’ it. Don’t plan on changing my mind.Ever.

She finally removes herself from my view, and I get a glimpse of the angel up on stage. Her shimmery bra lying on the ground. Pert tits on full display. And my mouth goes dry. She was young and ripe the last time I saw her. Those babies fit right into the palm of my hands, but she grew into more than a handful. Her nipples are still the same though. Tight little rosy buds, puckered up from the chill… or from the heat of all the attention she’s getting.

My palms clench tighter.

“Here’s your drink, Razor?”

I practically yank the glass from the waitress’s hand, tossing its contents back in one gulp, trying to reconcile the woman up on stage from the girl I once knew. Wondering when the hell she lost all that sweet innocence as she moves her body like a fucking dominatrix. She may look like an angel, but she dances like sin fuels her blood.

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