The Club Page 4

  “Then I want the biggest piece, Roxanne. I’m selfish, especially when it comes to you.”

  He takes one of my breasts in his mouth and roughly applies suction. He pulls out of me and moves to position himself between my legs. He smacks the inside of my leg and orders, “Bend your knees and spread those legs, girl.” He places his finger in me and moves it in a ‘come here’ motion, stimulating something inside me that I have never felt before.

  A loud growl resonates from somewhere deep in my chest cavity and my body raises and slams back down. Who is this woman who is so vivid with a man who was so recently a stranger to me? Once again, my body convulses as I scream out, exploding in ecstasy. If the dancers weren’t aware of our presence in here before, they sure as hell know now.

  The look on his face tells me he loves knowing he can bring me the pleasure no other man has ever given me. With each day that passes, each time he takes my body, his talons sink deeper and deeper into me. He acts as if he is completely enamored with me. I see the rage and turmoil on his face when anyone else looks at me or gets near me. I know he has a dangerous temper. Someone could get hurt or even killed. I’m not certain how deeply the darkness in his soul goes.

  He makes his way back on top of me. His hands caress my face as he slowly moves in and out of me, studying every detail of my body. He stares at every freckle, every muscle, every inch of my skin, and I wonder how long it will be before he commits it all to memory.

  His thrusts become more demanding, more aggressive, and he never takes his eyes from mine. The connection I’ve been trying to avoid goes much deeper than one of a physical nature and I don’t like it. I set my mind to resist all that he offers me. I refuse to care about this man. It is imperative that I escape before I develop feelings for him. The threat of death is actually less dangerous than the threat of caring about a man who is a Colombian gangster. Yes, it’s time to get the fuck out of here…

  All of my life, I have run from place to place with each new problem that arises. I have raised myself due to negligent family members who cared more about their next drink or drug of choice. I escaped group homes and foster care by fighting professionally. It’s all I know.

  The instinct to run rears its ugly head again when I think about the very real possibility that this man will break my heart. I would rather suffer the blows from my worst enemy’s fists than a broken heart from the only man I have ever known intimately. My will to survive is all I have left and I am damn sure going to use it to my benefit.

  Antonio Wayne

  I gather my bearings and position myself on my side next to her, holding my head up with my hand as I begin talking. I know that while she’s in this post orgasmic state, it is the best time to brainwash her. What most people call pillow talk, I use for breaking down.

  It is termed turning out by pimps but I’m not a pimp. I am a Boss. To put it simply, I will use every trick of the trade to make this woman mine. She has openly admitted that she is unable to bond, that she is broken, and if I have learned anything about dealing with women, it’s to listen to them. A woman will tell you everything you need to know if you just pay attention.

  “Roxanne, you must mind me, even in the smallest of details. Do you understand?” I continue on for thirty minutes or so informing Roxanne what is expected of her, emphasizing that if she breaks the rules, she’ll be disciplined. She is tough but she is also naïve. She knows nothing of my world. The world I live in is brutal and if any of my enemies see an opportunity to get their hands on her, they will. They will destroy anything and anyone that I love in order to destroy me.

  We get up and dress, exiting the closet. I have her sheltered under my arm as we walk out. Sabrina glares at her and my hackles rise. “I need some attention, Antonio Wayne!”

  Alexis immediately runs up and grabs Roxanne, pulling her out of the way. I lunge at Sabrina and grab her by the throat. “Apologize to my wife!”

  Roxanne mutters, “It’s okay.”

  I still have Sabrina by the throat and literally pick her up as I turn to Roxanne. Addressing her, I ask, “Are you telling me how to deal with my women?”

  “No,” she replies as she looks down and Alexis protectively pulls her back out of my way.

  “I’m sorry, Roxanne,” Sabrina barely gasps through my chokehold.

  I use this time to inform the women that they are never to disrespect my wife. I knew there would be some hard feelings about Roxanne being here and I definitely expected Sabrina to start some shit, but I’m a little surprised she had the gall to do it in front of me. She has it in her head that she loves me. I fucked her—nothing more, nothing less—and I haven’t touched another woman since my wife’s arrival. I just don’t have it in me. Whether I want to acknowledge it or not, the woman has bewitched me. Poor thing… I will be harder on her because of it.

  Chapter Seven

  Rosalie

  Eduardo holds me like he’s my boyfriend. I’m not in love with him. I could never love a monster like him—a man who steals women and gets them hooked on drugs to make money. I wonder about the man he stole us from sometimes. Will he come looking for us? Eduardo has gone from being a mere coyote to a man with a price on his head. He let it slip in one of our conversations and now it all makes sense why we were taken at sea in the middle of the night. I thought it had just been part of flying under the radar of the American authorities but, no, this selfish son of a bitch didn’t have enough illegals… so he stole us. Now, I not only have to worry about losing access to the drug I have become so dependent on, but being killed by a Colombian gangster who has been robbed of his cargo as well. This is not good, not good at all.

  At this point, I’m just trying to survive and the only way I can do that right now, is through Eduardo. He is my only supplier of food, water, and the drug that my body so desperately craves. The drug that, in the beginning, just helped me endure the pain and horror of selling my body has become an addiction. I’m now just another statistic; I’m a drug-addicted prostitute.

  I can feel my heart hardening with each passing day and I don’t just loathe him, I loathe me for the person I’m becoming. How could I be so stupid as to believe I was on my way to the Promised Land when, in reality, I was headed straight to hell on earth?

  Every day, I push away thoughts of taking my own life. Each day I’m drugged, I pray it will be more than my body can stand and I will OD. No such escape exists for me because against my will, my body increases its resistance to the drugs. I don’t even get high anymore, only normal. I can’t even have that small pleasure. For me, there is no way out…

  Agent Turner

  “Looks like we’re headed to New York City.”

  “What’s up?” my partner, Rene, asks.

  “The notorious Antonio Wayne has been pirated at sea. Apparently he had a boatload of women stolen from him before they even docked.”

  “Who the fuck would have the nerve to cross that crazy son of a bitch?”

  “Rumor has it that it was a team effort between the Haitians and the Dominicans.”

  “Damn, if they’re not careful, they’re going to start a war fucking with that guy.”

  “I can assure you that Antonio Wayne Ramirez will not be letting this issue go.”

  “I feel sorry for whoever was stupid enough to cross him.”

  “Well, whoever is involved won’t be alive long enough for you to feel sorry for them if we don’t get our asses in gear. Come on, girl, wheels up in fifteen.”

  I can’t resist baiting Rene just a little so I make eye contact and say, “I’m looking forward to this little jaunt. His club is rumored to have stunning ambiance.”

  “I can assure you there isn’t any other club in the country that measures up to his. The women he employs are considered to be some of the most beautiful as well but that wouldn’t interest you now… Would it, my little pet?” Rene is staring at me, waiting for me to answer, and I can’t quite decide if I think her jealousy is cute or a danger to my wellb
eing. The real question I need to be asking myself is why my dick gets hard when I think I’m in danger. I’ll admit pissing Mistress off is one of my favorite pastimes but I know where to draw the line. I never see the strike coming as her open palm connects with my face.

  “I didn’t mean anything,” I lie.

  She gently strokes the heated skin on my cheek as she purrs, “Such a bad boy, lying to me. Perhaps a week of chastity is in order?”

  “We have to go,” I try to change the subject as I head out of the office with her following closely behind me. Once again, I have pushed Mistress but like I said, I know how far to go and I damn sure know not to cross the line with her. I bring the conversation back around to the gangster we’ve had under surveillance as she walks beside me to the tarmac.

  “The word on the street is that Antonio Wayne has gotten himself a redhead too. At least we know he has good taste.” I resist the urge to reach out and touch one of her red locks.

  “You just keep your fucking ass with me on this trip or you’ll be tasting the bottom of my boot.”

  My cock jumps at the thought and I look at her, thinking how glad I am to have her for my partner. I don’t want to be out of her sight in Antonio’s club, or anywhere else as far as that is concerned…

  Antonio Wayne

  I nuzzle in Roxanne’s hair. “Umm girl, you look good.”

  I look at my wife and study her. She has added so much to my life in the small amount of time she has been here. I have dressed her tonight in a plunging V-neck, powder blue, chiffon mini dress, nude hose, and thinly strapped, silver, four-inch heels. Her deep auburn hair flows down her back in ringlets. Roxanne is a beautiful woman and, tonight, she oozes confidence.

  She is a strong, independent, outspoken, and fearless woman. She is not going to be broken by me, or so she thinks. She looks up to view a man and his female partner entering the club and, laughing, I tell her it’s the man I’ve nicknamed FBI guy. He is an agent from Louisville, Kentucky and I can’t help but wonder what he is doing in New York.

  In my line of work, I’m used to seeing every branch of law enforcement there is and I’ve learned to stay calm in the midst of it all.

  “He is probably here because he has heard of your abduction. Are you going with him?” I taunt her.

  “Stop it, Antonio Wayne!”

  “Why do you call me that?” I ask. “And why do you change the names you call me depending on your mood? Sometimes it’s Antonio, sometimes it’s Antonio Wayne…” I nuzzle in her ear once more, breathing her scent in.

  “Because you are a Colombian thug who abducted me and forced me to marry you.”

  “Are you going to tell your secret admirer, FBI guy?”

  “No, if I want to get away from you, I will leave. I don’t need to be a tattletale about it.”

  “Yeah, you are awfully brave. That is, until I get you home, my little thief and liar.” I slide my hand up her dress, move her panties to the side, and whisper, “Hey Roxanne, maybe I’ll spank you.” She immediately moistens.

  “Closet sub,” I growl in her ear.

  “I need to go to the bathroom,” she says.

  “I bet you do,” I answer. “Roxanne needs to get baby wipes and clean her little twat.” I laugh in her ear, “Go clean up, dirty girl.”

  She leaves in a flustered state and I get up to make my way to the bar for a drink.

  Roxanne

  I finish up in the restroom. I swear I’m going to have to start wearing panty liners around this guy. I make my way out of my private bathroom and immediately see the FBI agent. This is just great. I know he is going to try and talk to me. Now that I’m aware he is FBI, I can’t help but wonder if he knows that I have been forced into my marriage with Antonio Wayne. A fleeting thought of telling him so I can escape goes through my mind but I’m not a rat and like I told Antonio Wayne, if I leave, it will be on my own terms.

  As soon as I think about talking to him to escape my plight, I remember that my best friend is in the hands of Antonio Wayne’s brother, Ricardo. He is a high-ranking Colombian official down in Guatemala and he has enough power to cause her major problems. I, of all people, know the laws in a third world country are subject to change with power and money; her captor, Ricardo, has both.

  “Hello, Roxanne,” he sheepishly says. “I came to see you.”

  His innocent act isn’t fooling me one damn bit. I also note that he is talking to me like he knows me. He’s trying to build a rapport.

  “Oh, how thoughtful, you’re trying to get me killed,” I state and roll my eyes for good measure.

  He laughs, “You’re funny, Roxanne.” He hands me his card and says, “I want you to call me. Hide this little card and call me if you ever need to talk to someone you can trust.”

  Never going to fucking happen.

  Though I have no intentions of calling the man my husband has dubbed FBI guy, I stick his card in my clutch and brush past him. As I come out of the hallway, I notice the bartender is whispering something to Antonio Wayne. I make my way to the booth and down a shot that’s sitting on the table. As I turn to go to the bar, Antonio nods his head, telling me to sit, and he directs the bartender to bring us more drinks.

  He sets two packages down on the table as the bartender sets our drinks down.

  “I brought you a present and here you are trapped in the hallway with a man again? Did your secret admirer give you his phone number?”

  “No,” I lie.

  “Tsk, tsk, no opening your presents until you tell me the truth. You are such a liar,” he says. “I’m giving you one more chance.” He stares at me intently as I debate what to do. “Tick, tock, tick, tock,” he taunts. He observes my eyes as they reflexively dart towards my clutch. “What’s it going to be, Roxanne?”

  “Yes,” I mumble.

  He raises his brow and eyes me, “Excuse me, I didn’t hear you.” He heard me. He is just being an ass.

  “You heard me, Antonio,” I growl.

  He grabs my clutch, snickering as he removes the card.

  “I’m jealous,” he growls as he roughly squeezes my leg, almost causing me to scream out. I bite my lip and shake my head trying to ward off the pain.

  “You know what, Tony? If you can have more than one lover, then so can I.” I will regret making that statement…

  Fuck! Why did I say that? I know for a fact he hasn’t been with any of his women since he married me. Am I jealous? Am I lashing out because of it? Damn, why did I say that?!?

  Antonio Wayne

  I wait until we get home to deal with her. As soon as we get through the door, I grab her ass and all but drag her down to the dungeon. She is screaming and kicking like a fucking hellcat and I’m loving every minute of it. With one hand, I grab her wrists and place her in the manacles hanging from a thick chain attached to the ceiling.

  I grab the knife in my pocket and with one touch of a button the switchblade springs free.

  “I’m sorry, Tony. I shouldn’t have… pleeeeze.”

  “You’re so fucking hot when you’re terrified, Roxanne.”

  I take the blade and run it over her breastbone. “I wouldn’t move if I was you, girl. You really fucked up telling me you want to fuck another man.” I have no intentions of fucking another woman but I’m not telling her that.

  “Tony, please, you’re scaring the shit out of me.”

  The blade slices through the front of her dress like hot butter and then I rip off the pasties she’s wearing, sucking and licking the burn away. She looks so fucking good strung up in my dungeon and at my mercy.

  “You are so fucking beautiful and you’re all mine.” My knife slices through her underwear with one rapid swipe and I bend to remove her shoes. She can barely touch her toes to the floor.

  “Tony, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

  I lean in and whisper in her ear, “Too late, kitten… too fucking late.”

  “Tony, please…”

  “That’s Master to you, girl
.” She clams up like a fucking shell. She might be too proud to say it now but by the time I’m finished with her, I won’t just be her Master, I’ll be her whole fucking world. Her begging once again interrupts my thoughts.

  “Tony, please…”

  “All that begging you’re doing is making my cock hard.”

  I grab the back of her neck, fisting her long auburn hair, and pull her towards me. I place the switchblade at her throat, applying enough pressure to scare her but being careful not to cut her. My knife is kept at a razor’s edge—always ready for my enemies…

  “There is no fucking way you’re getting away with that. You need discipline, Roxanne.” I cock my head when I say it. Staring into her tearstained face, she truly mesmerizes me. I let her go and the chain swings causing her to kick her feet.

  “Belt or paddle?”

  “No, Tony.”

  “I think the paddle because you’re swinging too much and I don’t want to bruise those precious kidneys of yours. I’ll just have to wrap my big strong arm around your waist to hold you in place so I can strike that pretty little ass of yours with precision. I don’t want to do anything to hurt you so badly you aren’t here with me. I listen to her sobs as I go to a place on the wall where various implements, paddles in all shapes and sizes, are hung. I grab a long one, with holes bored through it, and make my way over to her. She begins screaming and kicking her feet in anticipation.

  Saying that she should be able to sleep around went through me like a hot poker. I know that she thinks I am fucking around with the dancers but the truth is that since I have taken her captive, I haven’t so much as touched one of my other women.

  “Please, Antonio, I’m sorry.” I can see the fear in her eyes and it awakens the beast within me. My cock hardens as tears continue to stream down her face. I grab firmly around her midsection to hold her still. I meant what I said about not wanting to harm her. My hand comes down with lightning speed and I deliver three consecutive strikes on her ass. She’s sobbing uncontrollably now. I don’t give a fuck; it’s turning me on. I get right in her tearstained, snot dripping face and hiss.