“You know I don’t like the proper term for it.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust. Chelsea had a problem with the word penis. I’m not sure why. I thought it was a lot more normal than the other words she came up with for it.
“Maybe you should stick with cock. Pecker sounds like it’s going to attack me in sharp jabs.” I imitated the motion with my finger.
“Have you even had sex before? That’s what’s supposed to happen,” she jested. Caleb laughed loudly in the front seat and I punched him in the shoulder. “Okay, so what was wrong with it then?”
“I dunno. I didn’t get to see it,” I pouted.
“Say what now? Why?”
“Apparently, he’s more of a cuddler,” I grumbled under my breath earning a long string of laughter from both her and Caleb for the rest of the ride to school.
I thought my performance went pretty well. I decided to play something slow, going with one of my all-time favorites ‘Tears in Heaven’ by Eric Clapton. It was the first song I learned to play on the guitar and was forever my go-to song when someone asked me to play. It was sweet, soulful and simply beautiful. It’s the type of song that you can hear once and it will always stay with you.
Caleb was waiting for me outside the door to my class. Chelsea had finished an hour earlier and he’d already shot her back to the clubhouse.
I smiled at him as I walked out. “Hey.”
He threw me an acknowledging chin lift, but his eyes followed a few of the girls who walked out behind me. They giggled and whispered to each other, offering him flirting glances and eyeing me strangely as I walked up to talk to him.
There was another reason I hated the idea of having a tail for the week. I didn’t like the attention that it brought. I knew some students already had a fair idea of where I lived and what I did. It wasn’t as though I tried to hide it. Boys had asked me out before. Turning them down was a lot easier when I explained who would come after them if I said yes.
I wasn’t ashamed of the life I led. Not at all. Girls went to college and spent their years sleeping around and hooking up with guys all the time. They went to parties every weekend and went home with a new piece of ass. A lot of the time it was normal – just another part of college life.
I, on the other hand, had a clubhouse full of men. Yes, I slept with them, and yes, I partied a lot. But those men protected me. They supported me, and not only with money. And, for the most part, they cared about my well-being. How many college girls could say they have a group people that were willing to have someone follow you night and day, just to make sure that you were safe?
I didn’t give a rat’s ass what they thought of me. They weren’t my friends. Their opinions of me held no significance. They could all take their dirty looks and snide whispers and shove them where the sun don’t shine.
The clubhouse was reasonably empty when we got back. Caleb took off to catch up on the stuff he should’ve been doing while he was waiting at school for me and Chelsea. Even though Optimus had put orders on him to be with us, that didn’t mean he could slack on his other shit.
Ah, the life of a prospect.
Most of the men had gone out. Caleb informed us that Optimus wanted to show Kit and his boys some of the businesses they had running. One was in Huntsville, about a half an hour away, close to where we went to school. It was a huge nightclub. The club had opened it only six months ago and things were booming. It was popular and the club paid good money for well-known DJ’s to come in and do their stuff.
The club also owned a couple of other places around town, bars, and a diner, along with X-Rated. They preferred to be silent owners though, hiring people they trusted to manage the sites and do the work. A lot of people in the town of Athens, where the club was based, didn’t like the Brothers. They thought they were thugs. Gang members who rode motorcycles. In Huntsville, they were more like small-time celebrities.
I couldn’t say much about the inner workings of the club. That was all kept for members only and never discussed with club girls. We didn’t exactly get pillow talk. What I did know was that a generous amount of the club’s money came from legal businesses. There were a lot of other things that went on in the background, but these guys weren’t your average criminals. They were good at what they did and they were also good at keeping their mouths shut about it.
There was a knock on my door just as I’d sat down to relax for a bit and watch a movie. Sometimes it was hard to find down time here. I took it when I could.
“Come in,” I called. Part of me hoped it was Kit standing on the other side of the door. Even though we hadn’t had sex and he had barely touched me, I found I enjoyed his company. It was strange to have someone just want to sit and talk to me at a party. The men usually demanded my attention in other ways.
It was refreshing.
Target stood in the doorway with a cocky smile. “Hey, Harmony.”
I bit back the urge to tell him to go find someone else to spread their legs. But since his little performance the other day, we hadn’t had any problems.
“Hey.”
He walked in and closed the door behind him. “I just wanted to come say sorry about shit.” He walked right up and stood next to the bed where I was sitting. I didn’t have a lot of faith in his words, so I stayed seated in the middle of my bed, watching him cautiously. “Come here.”
I paused for a moment before following his instructions and moving to the edge of the bed. He placed a hand on my shoulder, effectively stopping me from standing and it was then I realized he wasn’t here to say sorry. He just had an itch and he was going to make me scratch it, even though he knew I still wanted nothing to do with him. Looking up into his eyes, I saw something there that I didn’t like. It was almost as though he was trying to cover a sneer with a polite smile. It sent shivers through my body. The kind you get when you watch a scary movie and you know something bad is about to happen.
He released my shoulders and my eyes followed as he unzipped his pants and pulled his cock into his hand. It was already hard. He tugged on it a few times before wrapping his hand around my hair and gripping tightly.
“Suck on it like a good little girl.”
It wasn’t very often during my time at the clubhouse that I had felt apprehensive about being sexual with any of the Brothers. Target was the only one of the men who made me feel like I was doing something wrong. I didn’t want to touch him, but I also didn’t want to piss him off. The grip he had on my hair was painful. It burned and made my eyes start to water.
I never heard the door click open, but what I couldn’t miss was the voice that boomed loudly in my small room.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing?”