Twisted Steel: An MC Anthology: Second Edition by Elizabeth Knox (top 5 ebook reader txt) 📕

Magenta.

Quake growled low in his throat. Closing his eyes for a moment, he absorbed the other dirty comments she crooned to her customer. Imagining it was his ear she was begging in, he pumped his shaft, keeping rhythm with what he could hear, enjoying her every whimper and moan. Christ, he could almost feel those long legs of hers wrapped around his waist and her tight little pussy clutching his dick.

“Quake, did you fall asleep on us?” Mason questioned.

When he opened his eyes, he found his brother wearing a knowing grin.

Mason could hear Magenta too.

Quake eyed his naked ass. “You finished already?”

“Just getting started,” Mason boasted.

“That makes two of us . . .”

2

Earlier that evening . . .

Rory looked in the mirror and checked her tassels. Her transformation to Magenta was complete.

“One minute!” Madam Belle’s last call echoed down the hall to the dressing room. Cinnamon was already gone. Turning off her phone, Candy pranced to the door, eager to strut her stuff.

Rory forced herself to move. Work paid her bills plus some. Every penny she could spare went in her savings account, drawing interest, bringing her one day closer to realizing her dream of being her own boss.

Stripping had paid her way through school. Sadly, after graduating with a degree in business and a minor in computer science, no one could begin to match what Madam Belle offered to pay. Being a red maned wolf—neither a wolf nor a fox—she was already a loner, an orphan with no den or pack. She answered only to herself, Madam Belle, and the men who paid top dollar to sleep with exotic shifters like her.

Wham, bam, screw you, ma’am.

Not that she expected to be thanked.

Or get off.

They paid for their pleasure, not hers.

Tonight would be no different, crooning in their ears, feeding their egos with lies about their tiny dicks and how good they felt. Granted, a few were bigger than others. Nothing like the Hell’s Fury bikers who paid for Candy’s time. She didn’t have dildos that big. She couldn’t imagine taking two of them at once, but Candy couldn’t get enough. She looked forward to when they’d saved up enough for another round.

Rory fell into line behind her.

“They’re here,” Candy whispered, almost giddy with excitement.

Rory arched a brow, pretending she didn’t know. “Who’s here?”

“Hell’s Fury, silly! Amos saw ‘em pull into the parking lot and sent me a text. He thinks it’s a shame none of those gargoyles swing both ways. He’d love a taste of gargoyle cock and ass. He’s got the hots for that President of theirs. He was disappointed Stone isn’t here, just Mason and Quake.”

Candy’s favorites. Rory wished they could afford her time. One night is all it would take to satisfy her curiosity. See what all the fuss was about.

Why did all the guys with big money have such small dicks? It wasn’t fair.

“You’re on!”

Madam Belle pointed a finger, sending a shower of fairy dust into the air. It bathed them as they walked through it, heightening their senses and making them irresistible to the patrons who’d come.

Cinnamon took the stage to her left. Candy was to her right. The two of them started their routine and got the crowd pumped before Rory stepped onto the center stage, walking down the middle like she owned it. She danced. Stripped. Tried not to let curiosity get the better of her and see how the gargoyles were enjoying the show. She made love to the audience. Made love to the stripper pole, pretending it was a gargoyle or centaur cock that she was riding.

Yeah, she liked them big. Big and hard and needy.

She was down to her tiny excuse of a thong when their number ended. Working the stage, she let men stuff money into it, pulling back when they tried to steal a feel. She made it three-fourths of the way through when a guy in a custom-made suit pulled out a wad of bills as thick as her thumb and tucked it by her twat.

“I’ll see you later,” he rumbled. “I booked the VIP treatment with Belle. Get ready, sweetheart. What you need is coming your way.”

Rory felt her eyes roll. In one form or another, she’d heard that line hundreds, maybe thousands of times. But business was business. A quick look at Madam Belle confirmed that this was her john for the night.

Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker.

She’d give him a half-hour at best. A fake orgasm to hasten his finish and a pat on his ass when he was done. As soon as he left, she could finish herself off with her vibrator. Most of the men who paid for her time didn’t bother touching the devil’s doorbell. Vaginal and clitoral orgasms were an abstract for them. For once, she’d like a man who knew how to use a goddamn dental dam to give her oral pleasure.

Chances were, he wasn’t it.

Sigh.

She smiled at him anyway, looking at him like he was the most important man in the world. As far as Madam Belle was concerned, he was. Men like him paid the bills and helped The Pole Barn stay in business.

She walked off the stage several hundred dollars richer. Heading back to the dressing room with her discarded tassels in hand, she freshened up in the shower room, voiding, washing off, and brushing her teeth. He’d paid for Magenta. The makeup would stay.

Finding what she was looking for, she rolled on a pair of thigh-high hose and clipped them to her garter belt. A tawdry pair of panties and matching bra came next. Slipping on a see-through robe, she headed for the VIP room upstairs.

Just her luck, Candy’s room was next door.

Magenta was still waiting for her john to show when footsteps sounded in the hall. Candy’s door opened and closed. From the sounds of things, she was in for a good time.

A double portion of gargoyle meat was on the menu