Nolan by Lane Hart, D.B. West

 

Chapter One

Nolan Bishop

Five years ago…

“Nolan, man, I still don’t understand why you keep coming back to this dump,” Abel says as he reclines in his chair next to me, arms crossed over his chest. “The girls aren’t that hot and the service sucks.”

He’s right. This strip club in the slums near the coastal city of Cape Cartwright is a joke. The girls on the stage all look like they’re strung out on coke and are only working the pole to make a few dollars to buy their next high. But the topless dancers aren’t what keep me coming back to this dive. Hell, I’ve been here three times just this week.

“If we were smart, we would be burning up the road right now,” Hugo mutters, looking equally annoyed from his seat next to Abel. “Being nomads means the original Savage Kings already distrust us. They’ll throttle us if we don’t make it up to Virginia in time for the raid.”

The three of us met and became close after doing several jobs together for the Savage Kings. We wear the crowned skull king patch and are full members of the club, but we don’t have a home chapter. We’re nomads, basically the club’s pack mules and workhorses. Whenever one of the chapters needs more bodies for one job or another, we’re the first ones they call. Our assignments can be anywhere up and down the east coast; and at any given time, we just have to pack up and go when called.

“We’ll leave early in the morning and get to Norfolk in plenty of time,” I tell the grumpy bastard. “And I don’t keep coming back for the strippers.”

“The waitress isn’t going to get naked for you,” Abel says confidently. “It didn’t work yesterday or the day before. Why do you think you’ll break her today?”

“Because the third time’s the charm,” I say as I watch the sexy little tease wait on every man in the club except for us. Finally, I give in and raise my arm to try and get her attention. Instead, the brunette with ear-length hair sidles over, not looking nearly as cute in her solid black dress.

“What can I get you boys?” she asks, tucking her empty tray under her arm.

“He came for her,” Hugo says, nodding his chin in the direction of the tall, voluptuous woman with straight, strawberry blonde hair down to her waist.

“Oh yeah! I remember you,” the brunette says. “You’re wasting your time, buddy,” she tells me.

I pull out the wad of cash in my pocket and fold off a twenty for her. “Switch tables with her, will ya?”

“Sure thing, handsome,” she says when she stuffs the money into her apron. “I’ll tell her you’re waiting, but it’s Friday and we’re swamped. May be a little while.”

“We can wait,” I say as Hugo and Abel both groan in annoyance.

Peeling off another twenty, I hold it out to the brunette. “Can you bring these two a beer to keep their panties untwisted?”

“You’ve got it,” she replies with a wink before looking my boys over. “And in case you’re wondering, I will give you a private dance for the right price.”

“Good to know,” I say just to get rid of her.

But I know my boys Hugo and Abel even better. If they go in one of the back rooms, it won’t be for a dance but to get blown by one of the desperate women on stage. So far, they’ve been content to sit at the table with me, drinking and laughing while I embarrass myself, getting shot down by little miss Cherry Pie over and over again each night.

I still don’t even know the woman’s name. She won’t give me an inch, and it’s driving me fucking crazy.

* * *

Rita Collins

“Two beers, cheapest you’ve got,”Dana tells Kurt, our bartender, when she comes up beside me. “Your stalker’s back again tonight.”

“I know,” I say with a sigh, refusing to even look over in his direction. He’s sitting at the same table in the back corner with the same two men, all of them wearing their Savage Kings MC patches proudly. That was his first strike. I don’t fool around with outlaw bikers. The second was thinking he could buy me for a quick fuck for the right price. And the third, well, the third strike was that I almost said yes because he’s hot and I’m horny.

If I had plenty of money, then I sure as shit wouldn’t be working in the strip club at night and then playing office assistant when the sun is in the sky. His offer is tempting, but no, I can and will pay my bills without getting paid for sex.

“I would dance for him and both of his buddies for a hundred,” Dana says as I wait for my shots of tequila for the rowdy table of college boys.

“That’s the problem. He doesn’t just want a dance,” I tell her.

“Well, sorry, girl, but he wants you to take over their table. He gave me twenty bucks to switch with you and another twenty for two beers for his friends.”

“Of course he did,” I mutter.

“Cheer up. He could be fat and gross,” she says with a smile as Kurt loads up my tray with shots and his own chuckle.

“So, which one is he?” our other bartender, Jason, asks when he glances over at the table of bikers. “Damn, Rita. It doesn’t matter. Dana’s right. I’d fuck all three for a hundred bucks.”

Shaking my head at them, I take the shots to the boys, who are barely old enough to drink, knowing it’s only a matter of time before they get sloppy drunk and Lance, our bouncer, has to throw them out.

“Here you go,” I say as I place a shot glass in front of each of the four guys. “Let me know if you need anything else,” I tell them, but I may as well have been invisible when AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck” starts playing over the sound system. Their attention, along with every other man in the club is suddenly glued to the stage where Felicity, now on her second song, is hanging upside down in nothing but a nude-colored thong, her wavy black hair brushing the ground.

Well, everyone except for the persistent biker, who is watching me with hooded eyes as I make my way over to his table.

Nolan.

All three of the bikers could be described as tall, dark, and handsome. Oh, and dangerous. Not because they enjoy riding around on donor-cycles doing no telling what kind of criminal activity, but because the three men look strong and experienced enough to tear this entire place down with their bare hands.

Nolan Bishop told me his name the first night he came in, but I still haven’t given him mine. Sure, he could’ve asked Dana or one of the dancers, but he hasn’t, determined to pry it from my lips on his own.

“Back again,” I say as come to a stop at the side of his chair, not wanting to obstruct the view on the stage, not that Nolan is watching. His friends, though, both look mesmerized. And then I remember they’ve only been here on weeknights before now. The girls who dance on Fridays and Saturdays are prettier and not quite as desperate and pitiful as the Monday through Thursday women. The weekend headliners get paid about three times as much cash in two nights as the others do all together in four.

“That’s right,” Nolan agrees, licking his sensual lips as his dark eyes eat me up. His voice is deeper and smooth as velvet when he goes on to say, “And I’m going to keep coming back until I get that sexy little ass of yours on my lap.”

“Then you’re going to waste your time. I’m a waitress, not a stripper,” I remind him. “What can I get you to drink?” I ask.

“A grand,” he says, and I know he’s not referring to his beverage choice but increasing his ridiculous offer to get me alone in one of the private rooms.

“For the millionth time, I don’t take my clothes off!” I tell him. Pointing a finger to the stage, I say, “If you want a lap dance, talk to one of the women grinding on the pole.”

“But I don’t want any of them,” he says. “I want you to dance for me.”

“You haven’t even seen all the women tonight. The club has better options on Friday nights,” I explain over the rock music.

“No shit,” the man next to Nolan says, the strobe lights from the stage reflecting in his glazed over eyes.

“I want her,” their other friend says. “How much for her in the back room?” The way he says that makes me think he’s after more than a dance.

“A hundred for two songs,” I answer for him. “You’ll have to talk to the manger to set up a private lap dance, though. Felicity is popular, so you better hurry.”

Without another word, the biker is up and gone as the song finally comes to an end.

“Hell, I need a smoke and a cold shower after that hot fucking number,” the one in the middle grumbles before he’s up and out of there too, leaving me alone with Nolan.

“Don’t you want to go with them? Four men can fit in a private room,” I say, already knowing his answer.

“Nope.”

His rapt attention to me is flattering even if he is a chauvinist pig. I’m not blind. I know I need to lose at least twenty pounds before I could even think about taking off my clothes for men, which is just one of the many reasons I’m a waitress and not a dancer.

But even if I did look like the girls on stage, I don’t think I would ever have the confidence to do what they do.

With a hand on my hip and the drink tray in the other, I ask, “Do you want me to bring you something to drink or not? I do have other customers to serve.”

When he grins at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners, I know I’m not going to like his next words. “Depends. Is there one I can drink off of your beautiful tits?”

“No, there absolutely is not!” I answer with a bark of laughter, unable to help myself.

“That’s too bad,” he replies. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning and won’t get to see you for a whole week. If I don’t get a little taste of you before I leave, I’m not sure if I’ll live.”

Rolling my eyes, I tell him, “I’m sure you’ll be just fine. It’s not like you have any trouble getting a woman into your bed. Dana would go with you in a heartbeat.”

“Maybe. But I don’t want anyone in my bed but you, Cherry Pie.”

“Cherry Pie?” I repeat in disgust at the nickname, no doubt thanks to the color of my hair.

“You look so sweet I just want to eat you up.”

My face flames in embarrassment when I realize exactly what he means. “If you hadn’t tried to buy me like a prostitute, who knows, maybe I would’ve let you have a taste. Now, you’re shit out of luck.”

“I wasn’t offering to pay you for sex!” Nolan grumbles, almost sounding offended. “I just wanted a lap dance, woman!” His palm shoots out and grabs my hip to pull me between his spread thighs in the blink of an eye. His warm, strong touch sends a jolt of desire through me. One so strong, I go weak in the knees. “If I ever got you in my bed, you’d be offering to pay me afterwards.”

Laughing at that, I grab his calloused hand and pry his fingers off of me. “Is that right?”

“That’s right,” he agrees, leaning forward like he’s going to make a grab at me again. “Just give me a chance to prove it. I’ll eat your sweet pussy so good you won’t remember your name. Better tell me what it is, so I can remind you.”

“Ha! Nice try, but no,” I tell him, taking a step back.

“That’s too bad.” He leans back in his chair, pulling a wad of cash from his pocket. “Then I guess you better bring me a beer to cry in.”

“Ah, sure,” I say when he holds out a hundred.

“I’ll let you pick the brand,” he says as I take the cash from him. “And keep the change.”

“Are you sure about that? I’m not going to…”

He puts the rest of the cash back in his pocket and pulls out his cell phone. “Yeah, I know,” he says with a sigh. “Guess I’ll just have to take a picture of you and make do with it until next week.”

Before I can protest, the flash goes off and I’m left blinking from the bright light.

“Great,” I say as I turn around and another flash goes off. Glancing at him over my shoulder, I narrow my eyes at him in warning.

“It’s not my fault you’ve got a beautiful ass too,” he says with an unrepentant smile.

* * *

The restof the night goes by in a blur of serving drinks, getting my ass grabbed, and cleaning up spilled alcohol.

In fact, other than two more beers, I didn’t even have time to deal with Nolan’s inappropriate flirting.

Thanks to the rowdy crowd, it’s three a.m. before all the customers are gone and I start wiping down tables. The dancers are crowded around the bar, waiting for their payouts and having a drink to close out the night.

“Great job, tonight, ladies. Hell of a night, Felicity,” I hear Johnny, one of the club’s managers, saying to the woman as he hands over envelopes. “But you should’ve told me you were going to fuck the bikers. I would’ve got them to cough up a few hundred more.”

“Nah, it was fine,” she says. “That’s the first time I wasn’t faking it in months! In fact, they’re supposed to be waiting outside for me.”

“The Savage Kings?” I blurt out, and everyone turns to look at me. No one likes to remind me that I’m not in the same league as the dancers as much as, well, the dancers. “I mean, you’re leaving with those bikers?”

“Yeah, why?” the raven-haired dancer asks, her head cocked to the side. “You jealous, Xena?”

Heat floods me from the top of my hair down to my toes at her insult because of my size.

“I am,” Jada, one of the other dancers, says as I try to go back to cleaning tables, wishing I could become invisible.

“Why don’t you come with me tonight? I’m sure the guys wouldn’t mind.”

“Hell yes,” Jada agrees. “Let’s go.”

I can’t help but wonder if Nolan will be invited to their little afterhours party. Why wouldn’t he want to join in with his friends and two beautiful strippers?

“Lock up before you leave, Rita?” Johnny asks.

Dammit. Being the most dependable sucks. It means I’m always the one who closes.

“Sure thing,” I agree. “Could you ask Lance to wait for me?”

“Lance is long gone,” Felicity replies. “Don’t worry. We’re taking all the money with us, and a robber would need a ladder to try and rape you.”

I grit my teeth at her crude remark as the group heads out the door. Even Dana is leaving since her side of the club is all cleaned up.

Half an hour later, and I’m finally turning off all the lights. I crack open the back door and peek out before locking up to make sure there’s no one lurking. Nope, just my sad, little, red car, sitting alone at the back of the empty parking lot. At least I parked near the streetlights lining the sidewalk.

“You shouldn’t be alone out here,” a masculine voice says from the darkness, making my feet freeze as I search out the source.

“Who’s there?” I call out, then wince at how stupid I sound, thinking a robber would answer me.

A figure steps around the bumper of my car, and I recognize him before he says, “It’s Nolan.”

“Oh. Just you,” I say as I let go of the breath I was holding. I don’t think the biker would hurt me, but he is here waiting for me, knowing I’m alone… “Why aren’t you with your friends and the two dancers?”

“Because I wanted to make sure you got to your car safely,” he says, leaning his hip against the bumper, his hands casually in his pockets. “I can’t believe they all left you here alone.”

“Yeah, well, I can,” I respond. “There’s no ladder around for a bad guy to climb up to…never mind. You can leave now.”

“I will,” Nolan says. “After you go.” His boots shuffle on the loose pebbles of the parking lot, drawing my attention to the dark shapes behind my car.

“Is that…” I rush over to see for myself. “Oh my God! Who are they?” I ask, recognizing the shape of two men sprawled out on the pavement.

“Not sure,” the biker answer. “But based on the guns and ski masks, I’m guessing they were going to try and rob the place before you left.”

“You’re joking, right?” I say, looking from the cool, calm man to the unmoving ones.

“Good thing I stayed after my boys left, isn’t it?”

“Are they alive?” I ask in concern for the robbers. Yes, it’s ridiculous, but I have a sixteen-year-old brother I’m trying to raise. I know for a fact that young and stupid sometimes leads to bad decisions.

Nolan’s booted toe rams into one of the shapes, eliciting a soft moan. “Yeah, they’re still alive. I took their gun, so they’re harmless now.”

“I can’t believe this! We should call someone. The police! We should call the police!” I tell him.

“Nah. They didn’t do anything. It’s not illegal to cover your face and carry a gun around in your hand.”

“It’s not?”

“Not really.”

I stare down at the two men thinking about what could have happened if Nolan hadn’t been here. None of the other employees or even the manager care enough about me to wait, but this stranger did.

“Thank you,” I finally tell him. All my life I’ve been tall and…sturdy, as my grandmother liked to call it. My brother and I are both built like linebackers, with my shoulders only a little narrower than his. No one has ever worried about my safety. I can take care of myself. But it is sort of nice to have a protector for once.

Nolan is taller than I expected, standing a few inches more than my six-foot frame. And with his broad chest and thick biceps, he somehow makes me feel feminine.

“You’re welcome,” he says as he takes a few steps backward to where I now can see his bike is parked behind my car.

“Nolan, wait,” I call out. I follow him, stepping over one of the downed men who are, in fact, wearing masks over their faces. “My name is Rita.”

“Rita?” he repeats with a flash of his straight teeth in the darkness.

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll finally give you that dance when you get back in a week.”

“What if I don’t want to wait a week?” he asks.

“What if I don’t want a one-night stand?” I counter with my brow raised.

Taking a step closer to me, he practically growls, “If you think one time with you would be enough for me, then you haven’t been paying attention, Cherry Pie.”

“Yeah?” I ask, suddenly breathless with him crowding me.

“Want me to prove that once won’t be enough for you either?” he asks, and I nod without hesitation. I’m not sure what I’m agreeing to. All I know is that I like how this man makes me feel. Beautiful.

Grasping either side of my face, his lips drop down on mine, hard and demanding.

It’s the most passionate kiss of my life, full of promise, not just the sensual kind but offering me the possibility of so much…more.