Tingles

Lady No. 6

LADY NO. 6. A story of an MC Pres Tyke Cain who finds his true love in the brothel.

***

This is better to be the right place.

The place seemed calmer and different. The air smelled richer and cooler.

According to my contact, this was what pinned on the address. It looked like an ordinary establishment from the outside with a cheap red neon light Gero bar sign. It didn’t look like a whorehouse to me though, but this could definitely be the most decent place I had been to, for the past few months.

Yeah. I’m a fucking manwhore who craves sex and release, and it’s the only thing that makes my life normal.

Living with Phoenix MC was definitely far from being ordinary. No normal life that dealt something against the law, but I had to live with it, or else my mother would throw a party wherever part of hell she was.

She was the reason why I didn’t have a real family, why I grew up from poster to poster until I was legal to escape from the hell they called home.

She was the reason my father literally died that day—sentenced for the crime he didn’t commit—the same day she broke his heart.

The very same day she ruined my life and my future.

I despised that day until this day and onward.

Every fourteenth of Feb-fucking-ruary.

To my surprise, there was no bulky bouncer at the door, no noises from the patrons or even music. The last brothels I’d been to, had prostitutes lingering around to welcome customers, but this one sounded like I was walking into my death trap.

“You must be Mr. Cain?” A mid-thirties man in a well-tailored suit approached me. He must be the manager. He had a small scar at the tip of his right eyebrow, but it was almost invisible if not in close proximity.

Bingo!

“Yes,” I answered, remained disinterested.

“Mr. Cain.” He offered a handshake. “I’m—”

“I don’t give a fuck who you are. Just lead the way to the suite.

Christ, why do they have to treat me nicely when all I want is to fuck their whore? And who the fuck care who he is?

Yeah. Right, the job. I came here for two purposes—to kill two birds in one stone.

To fuck and get facts.

“S-sure, Mr. Cain.” The manager retreated his hand, making his way to the other door. “Please, follow me.

Our footsteps echoed as we scurried along the narrow hallway. The faint sound and vibration proved that I was definitely in the right place. He turned right, all of a sudden, the smell of sex and various perfumes permeated the entire area, but there were nowhere any sounds of carnal activity around. This place was possibly soundproof?

I welcomed by a dim-lit room with only red and yellow light illuminated the entire space. A king-size four post-bed at the center with elegant red sheets, an ottoman at the foot, and a floor-length deep red curtain.

“Lady number six will be here shortly, Mr. Cain. And you were informed of the rules of our agency via email. What we can guarantee is, we always satisfy our customers’ needs. Have a great evening, sir!” The man slightly bowed and left, and that pissed me even more.

I hated my mother, but this business was far worse than I had ever encountered. We may have our own twisted way of living, but we never dealt with a human, especially women.

Yet, here I am.

I didn’t give a shit if people saw us a plague to society. What they didn’t know was how we helped get rid of the biggest shark that polluted the system. We had dealt with bigger clients from law enforcement, politicians, and celebrities. We traded info to the bureau in return for leaving us alone.

Faint footsteps made my entire body vibrated with needs. My life was filled with money, but I never chose to live in a penthouse or to own fast cars. I’d rather ride my bike that had been my companion since the leader of Phoenix took me in.

There were women in the Phoenix compound, but I couldn’t touch any of them. I wouldn’t. Being the pres, I could get what I wanted in a snap of my fingers, but I couldn’t deal with women when I had a lot of issues to prioritize.

I turned around when the door locked behind me. I almost had a heart attack when the woman wearing a black and red feather mask met my gaze.

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