Watching her on that damn stage had my dick straining uncomfortably against my jeans. The bitch was hot. More than hot. Fucking scorching.
She moved like a silk scarf in a light breeze, her curves softly swaying and twisting. The song she danced to was dark and slow, her actions flowing in perfect time with the music and reflecting the heart-wrenching lyrics. It was like the music was inside her and working its way out. It was hypnotizing and I couldn’t stop my body as it moved closer. I wanted to memorize her figure, her curves, and the way her hair flowed as she flicked herself around the pole.
When she was done, I was met with two wide hazel eyes. Fucking beautiful.
When I’d heard Optimus order a brunette to grab the girl on the stage and meet him in his office, I knew I had to be in on that.
And that was it. I was done for, straight after the moment she opened her mouth to object to Optimus’ order of protection. He’d shot her down with some stern words about her following orders and she had fallen into place fast after that.
I didn’t have an Old Lady for a reason. There were certain characteristics I needed the woman at my side to have. It was essential for her to be strong and opinionated, but she also needed to know that I was in charge and when she should back down. I wanted a woman who would challenge me, but that would accept that the rules that I place within my club and my home are there for the protection of my family. I didn’t need a woman that was going to fall at my feet and worship the ground I walked on. I wanted a woman who was strong enough to stand beside me as an equal.
I saw all these things in her.
Telling me she was a club whore had only made my need to own her grow stronger. Knowing these men used her body for their own pleasure made me sick. I didn’t want to just possess her body. I wanted her mind, her fucking soul and I was going to have it.
“You wanna dance?” Harmony asked, looking up at me from her seat. Three beers in her and her eyes were sparkling with intoxication and lust, but she was still holding herself well. I knew she wanted me. I hadn’t missed the way her eyes roamed my body or how she leaned into me when I was close. I also knew what she was expecting. She was here as a club girl, there to please the men. She thought that was all I wanted from her and I was prepared to prove her fucking wrong.
“I don’t dance.”
Her mouth fell open and I suppressed the urge to force her to her knees and shove my cock in it.
“Those sexy hips don’t sway? That’s gotta be a crime.”
“Only crime is you being here as a club girl and not at home like an Old Lady should be.” The words hadn’t meant to fall from my lips, but I couldn’t stop them. This bitch had my head all crazy. She looked reasonably shocked for a moment, an unexpected emotion. A lot of women would have taken that as an invitation and jumped all over it. But not this girl. Not her.
“Where would the fun in that be?” She winked and did well to hide the apprehension on her face. I’d let her have that one. Harmony and I sat at a table alone in the far corner of the room. I could party like the best of them, but the intrigue I felt for her was overpowering any of my other urges for the night. I needed to get to know her better.
“You hang out at the clubhouse all day?”
She shook her head while she sipped at her beer. “Not every day. I go to class three times a week and Optimus allows me time to study, so I usually do it at the library where the men can’t interrupt.”
I tried to ignore the comment about the men and went with the other shit. “What kinda classes you take?”
“I’m a music major. It’s been a big part of my life since I was little and it’s the only thing I can see in my future.” She took another sip of her beer and I waited quietly for her to continue, “My mom is a publicist. She’s worked with bands and musicians my whole life. Sometimes we would even tour around the country with them when I was little. The big bands always got into trouble and needed someone there consistently to make public statements and excuses for them.” She let a small giggle free.
“Ah, bred in your blood, huh.”
“I feel like that. Even in quiet rooms I’m constantly humming tunes in my head. If I didn’t have music, I would feel like I’d lost a part of my body.” She swirled the beer bottle on the table, her eyes watching it spin and twist. “What’s bred in your blood?”
The question threw me a little, but the answer slipped out without needing any thought. “The club.”
“Why?” Her eyes looked up at me, meeting mine head on – something I’d found people rarely did when speaking to me. I didn’t know if it was that they were afraid or whether they thought it was disrespectful to do so, but it pissed me off. They said the eyes were the pathway to the soul and I firmly believed just that. How was I supposed to read someone, who they were, what they stood for if I couldn’t see into their eyes?
“Why?” I repeated.
“Yeah, why?” She stood firm on her question and I admired the way she never wavered.
“My father was the National President back in Aussie before he moved here and started the chapter in Troy. Brothers by Blood has twelve chapters just in the States, and men came from all over to join his club. They uplifted their families, left towns that they’d lived in since they were born just so they could follow his lead.” My father was a great man. Well-known. Well-respected. Well-loved. He would lay his life down for his Brothers and their families and simply because of that, people lined up to do the same for him. My father had led the club with an iron fist, and at times could be so hardheaded it was infuriating. But he had more heart than anyone I’d ever met. He never saw it as a weakness, but as a strength.
“Ah, the accent!”
I smirked. “Yeah, haven’t ever spent much time back in Australia, but I guess growing up and listening to my dad, the twang stuck a little.”
“He sounds like an amazing man.” She smiled.
“He is…” I paused. “What does your father do?”
She laughed. “You tell me and we’ll both know.”
I didn’t push. It was obvious it was a subject that we were not ready to approach as of yet. Maybe one day.
While it was hard to picture Harmony as a club whore, I could see why the men would gravitate toward her. Harmony was easy to talk to. She was smart, beautiful and independent. She didn’t throw her tits in your face or bend over and beg you to fuck her like most club girls. No, she was sexy in a different kind of way. The girls we had back home were nothing like her. They were leeches of the worst kind. Always after something more than you were willing to give – your patch, your heart, your child. I’d seen more than one man fall into a pregnancy trap. While all club girls were expected to be on more permanent contraception, it was our job to make sure we still wrapped that shit up. But a man is never one hundred percent on his game. Shit happened.
Harmony wasn’t made to be a club girl. She was definitely Old Lady material and I was going to make her see that.