Twisted Steel: An MC Anthology: Second Edition Elizabeth Knox (cheapest way to read ebooks .txt) 📖

never had a run-in with her but plenty of others had. She might look small and delicate but you learned quickly not to mess with the Fae. Piss her off or hurt one of her employees, and you’d be waking up the next morning missing your manhood.

Or so they’d heard.

Parking beside Mason, Quake headed for the front door, giving a friendly nod to the bouncer, Amos. The burly bear shifter acknowledged them with an appreciative look and a sigh of disappointment that only two of them had come.

The crowd was packed and the atmosphere was electric like every night they found themselves there. The lights were dimmed, tables were filled, and the alcohol was flowing. Stage lights spotlighted women wearing next to nothing, gyrating sexily around the poles positioned on three different stages.

Whatever Madam Belle was doing, she was doing it right. This place offered stunning supernatural women whose energy only added to the magic in the air.

Yep, The Pole Barn was the place to be if you wanted a memorable night.

Sidling up to the bar, Quake scanned the crowd for Candy, the pink-haired she-wolf they’d had fun with before. He found her stage left, giving a performance that would have made her the feature in any other strip club.

Wearing nothing but a silver thong, she worked the pole with a grace and agility that made Quake’s cock hard. Against his will, his gaze kept tracking, drawn by the woman who commanded the center stage. Long, shapely legs ended in a pair of nine-inch spike heels. The fabric of her thong was nearly see-through, offering a glimpse of her plump, shaved snatch. Her bare tits were as perfect as a Hindu goddess’s—round, high, and firm. There was a carnal light in her eyes when she looked out over the crowd, connecting with her fans.

When she was through, one lucky son of a bitch with a platinum card or a bankroll would follow her upstairs for a private session.

Magenta was the crown jewel of The Pole Barn, with long, flowing hair dyed to match her stage name. The purple-red locks were as unique as her species. A rare red maned wolf shifter, she commanded a premium price that was far too rich for Quake’s blood. He’d settle for Candy, but that wouldn’t stop him from lusting after Magenta, closing his eyes, and pretending it was her underneath him.

The number ended. The girls worked the crowd, leaning down to get bills stuffed in their thongs. One patron tucked a wad of cash in Magenta’s and motioned her closer to whisper in her ear.

She looked at Madam Belle, who nodded her head.

She’d just been bought for the night. Fuck it all.

Quake was feeling low until Mason slipped back onto his barstool.

He hadn’t even noticed he was gone.

“We’ve got Candy for an hour,” he told him. “Starting in thirty minutes. Room 7. I need to check my stash. Make sure we have enough condoms to last.”

They’d learned to bring magnums with them rather than trust that enough were on hand for males their size.

Their height wasn’t the only thing that could shift when they were excited.

“Sounds good. Thanks,” Quake told him, trying to sound upbeat. He should be grateful he was going to get laid even if it wasn’t the woman who starred in his favorite fantasies.

Getting off would have to be enough.

Of course, they’d make it good for Candy. She enjoyed their attention, more for the way they fucked than the money they spent—although she enjoyed that too. She liked group sex, and she liked it rough. They could ride her as hard as she wanted.

Mason went outside and came back with a brand-new box of rubbers. When the clock hands edged close enough, they finished their beers and sauntered down the hall to the bodyguard at the bottom of the stairway. IDs checked, they went upstairs and stopped outside Room 7.

Quake rapped on the door. “Candy? Are you ready for us?”

“Come in, gentlemen! Come in!”

Opening the door and stepping inside, the men were treated to the sight of Candy’s nude body, posed on the bed for their pleasure. Rising gracefully, she came to where they stood and began helping them out of their clothes. “How do you want it?” she asked them. “Separate or together? Mouth, pussy, or ass?”

Mason grinned and called dibs on her backdoor. Where they had an hour, Quake asked for a dental dam, intending to practice his oral skills. With Mason’s cock up her ass, it shouldn’t take much to make her climax. Candy was one of the most honest whores he’d ever met. She never faked an orgasm with them.

Then again, she never had to.

Which might explain the sweet spot she had for the Hell’s Fury MC gargoyles. They were favorites with some of the other women too.

Rule number one with the girls here was no kissing. Denied that pleasure, he and Mason each took a breast, molding her naturally large tits with their callused fingers, tormenting her nipples, sucking on them while Quake played with her clit and Mason lubed up her crack.

Like a dance they had memorized, his brother picked Candy up and tossed her onto the bed. She landed on all fours and shook her tail at him. Growling, Mason wrapped up and stalked toward her, wetting his cock on her juices and shoving it into her pussy.

She gasped to feel his nine inches drilling into her.

“Fuck,” he grated. “Feel that, bitch? Feel me filling your cunt? As soon as I get you stretched out for Quake, I’m reaming out that ass of yours.”

He started banging her box, the force of his thrusts shunting her forward. Mason grasped her hips and held her in place while he took her, making her pant and moan with pleasure.

Quake watched, fisting himself, waiting for his turn to join them. Leaning against the wall, with his supersensitive ears, he couldn’t help hearing the tryst next door, male grunts accompanied by the sound of bedsprings being worked hard.

“Oh, yeah,