Havoc (Salvation's Bane MC 4)

Havoc (Salvation's Bane MC 4)
Second Edition
Marteeka Karland
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2024 Marteeka Karland

“Place is really lit tonight.” Stryker grinned.

Havoc glanced at him over his coffee cup and grunted. Tonight wasn’t the night for this. He knew where Stryker was going.

“Girls are smokin’ hot.”

“I’m not interested in the girls, Stryker. Here to make sure things run smoothly.”

“Yeah. But you got to admit --” As he spoke, a busty waitress brushed her tits against first Stryker then Havoc as she set two cups of coffee on the table in front of them. She winked and bumped Havoc with her hip as she stepped away. “Makin’ things run smoothly should have a few perks with it.”

Stryker was yanking Havoc’s chain. Trying to get a rise out of his brother. Havoc knew it. Appreciated it. The man was his oldest friend, and he knew when Havoc was in one of his moods. On this day, he was always in a bad mood. Today was the seventh anniversary of the day his ex-wife gave him divorce papers. Not exactly noteworthy in itself, but she’d done it deliberately to hurt him. Because she could never stand not being the center of attention.

She’d had him served on the first anniversary of his son’s death.

Yeah. Today was not the day.

“Back off, Stryker.”

“Well, why the fuck not? Get some pussy. Pick out any of the girls. No one will reject you, you know that. Get laid hard. You’ll feel better.”

“I said,” he snarled, finally meeting Stryker’s gaze, “Back the fuck off.”

Stryker put his hands in the air in surrender. “Fine, man. But at least let me take over guard duty. I’ll get Dazz and Beaner to help. They’ve been doing very well keeping the guys under control without being all flashy and pushy. You need something more than that fuckin’ coffee. You’re like a bear with a sore paw.”

“Fuck you too, asshole.”

Stryker just chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes. Get on up to your office. Or better yet, check out the new girl on tier two. Babe’s a looker.”

Havoc grunted again. Yeah. He’d just get right on that. If he wanted to fuck, he’d go to the Playground, a BDSM club Salvation’s Bane owned, and find a willing sub to scene with. No names. No expectations other than a fucking good time. Best of all, no fucking strings. And no fucking talking if he didn’t want to fucking talk.

No. He wasn’t in the right frame of mind. Even the masochists wouldn’t appreciate him tonight.

The bass from the music pulsed through his body, making him slightly ill whereas he normally enjoyed the rhythmic pulse. Salvation’s Angels boasted the most beautiful girls in the Palm Beach area, due in no small part to the fact that they were paid very well. Thumping bass pounding through the body enhanced the eroticism of the place, adding the sensation of touch mostly denied otherwise. The club might be owned by a biker club, but they served only the best liquor, the best food, in an environment that was more like a dance club than a strip club. While there were girls performing on stage, there was also a dance floor for guests and, if one paid enough, the girls would dance with the patrons. It was difficult to monitor everyone, but Havoc only hired the best security. There were several men tasked only with keeping an eye on the dance floor, and they were fucking good at their jobs.

Angels had two tiers and three levels. The first floor was for the general public. Alcohol was served, and there was a dance floor, but the girls kept their thongs on and didn’t dance with patrons. Lap dances were given in a strictly monitored “private” section, but that floor was more like a standard strip club.

Tier two was for the more “robust” patrons -- meaning men or women who would pay top dollar for food, drink, and women. While sex was still strictly prohibited, these customers were given more leeway in their experiences. The women, while completely nude, still called the shots. They were allowed to pull back if they felt threatened or touched in a way that made them fear they’d crossed the line. Obviously, anything that made them uncomfortable was allowed to be shut down, too. Most had as much fun as the patrons did. The only thing not allowed was penetration of any kind. And not a single thong in sight.

Stryker was right. Havoc could have his pick of beautiful women. More than one of them were club girls of Salvation’s Bane. A couple in particular he knew could take his mind from the harsh memories surrounding this day.

Fuck. Who was he kidding? The rage was too close. Nothing but a good knock-down-drag-out was going to make a dent in his state of mind today.

A deafening round of cheers came from the second tier stage, pulling Havoc out of his dark musings. He’d been on his way to the third floor, where the offices were located. Naturally, his head turned in the direction of the uproar…

And he stopped in his fucking tracks.

On the stage was a vision straight out of his most erotic fantasies. Dressed in an intricately strapped black outfit that left her tits bare while surrounding them with those fucking straps that also crisscrossed her body. Thigh-high boots were garnished in chrome chains, as was the rest of the fucking outfit. Long, long black tresses gleamed blue in the stage lighting with every move she made. Though her outfit covered a good bit, it revealed a healthy portion of gleaming pale skin. She was like some kind of dark angel out of his dreams. She had a deceptively innocent look in her eyes, but her body and that outfit told another story.

And the woman could dance like sin on a stick…