North Kings of Carnage MC Read online

  North

  Kings of Carnage MC

  M.N. Forgy

  Contents

  North

  Kings of Carnage MC

  Prologue

  1. North

  2. North

  3. North

  Aspen

  4. Aspen

  5. North

  Aspen

  6. North

  Aspen

  7. North

  8. Aspen

  9. North

  Aspen

  10. North

  Aspen

  11. North

  Aspen

  12. Aspen

  North

  13. Aspen

  North

  Epilogue

  Note From The Author

  Also by M.N. Forgy

  Sin City Outlaws MC Series

  Stand alones

  Excerpt from Bouncer by Kim Jones

  North

  Kings of Carnage MC

  Written by

  M.N. Forgy

  Copyright © 2020 M.N. Forgy

  Edited by My Brother’s Editor

  Content Editing By Raw Book Editing

  Cover by Cover It Designs

  Formatted by Vellum

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

  Created with Vellum

  Dedication

  I dedicate this book to those who know the just of riding a motorcycle on the open road.

  To finding someone misjudged and not just a broken soul but as their missing piece.

  To self-discovery whether it’s solo or with a companion.

  Kings of Carnage MC

  Check out all the books in this series:

  Chaos by Hilary Storm

  Bash by Sapphire Knight

  Jinx by Chelsea Camaron

  North by M.N. Forgy

  Bouncer by Kim Jones

  Sly by Nicole James

  Prologue

  Aspen

  The hard chair I’m sitting on is pressed into my ass, and I re-cross my legs trying to get comfortable. Looking around the office, I scan the posters of half-naked women, and butterflies fill my stomach. Am I going to end up on a poster? God, if I get this job, my parents are going to disown me, I know it. He’s left me no options. Whether they can see that or not is no longer my problem. I’ve tried everything, and this is where I’m left.

  The door behind me opens and a tall blonde woman strolls in. She’s wearing a crystal two-piece that looks like it’s made of mesh. It’s gorgeous and shows her body in just the right way.

  She sits behind the desk and pulls out a laptop.

  “Okay, so you’re Aspen,” she states, clicking open my application.

  “Yes,” I say a little too eagerly, scooting to the edge of the wooden chair.

  “I’m Valley, the house mom.” She continues to scroll across the screen, her eyes squinting as she examines it harder.

  “Hi, thanks for getting back to me,” I say in a friendly tone. I desperately need this job, if I don’t get it, I’m homeless and screwed.

  Her eyes pop over the screen at me, and she bites her bottom lip with toothpaste-commercial-white teeth. She’s really pretty. Insecurity runs down my spine, but I don’t break eye contact. If I’m going to work here, I’m going to have to step out of my comfort zone and build some confidence.

  “Have you ever danced before?”

  “No, but I used to be a gymnast and I catch on really quick,” I defend.

  “Mhhm, what’s your stage name?” Her tone comes off as bored.

  “Um, just Aspen will work.” I shrug, I didn’t know I need some exotic name, otherwise, I would have come up with something awesome.

  She sits back in her chair and crosses her arms, her eyes taking me in with what I assume is amusement.

  “You are different than the other girls; basic, but pretty,” she observes, tapping a perfectly manicured nail on the desktop. I curl my nails into my palm, making a mental note to paint them.

  Blinking a few times, I’m not sure if that was an insult or compliment.

  She closes the laptop.

  “Okay, follow me.” She stands and opens the door to the office. I grab my purse and follow her out. Right across the hall, she takes me into a room filled with vanities, all the lights are off because it’s in the middle of the day, but the smell of dancers from the night before lingers in the air. Racks on a wall hold various wigs and clothes of every type.

  Valley steps up to a vanity in the back and presses her hand to the tabletop.

  “This will be your vanity. If you don’t want something used or stolen, take it home with you.” She says with a bored tone. Swallowing, I can’t help but want to touch the vanity too, it’s something that is mine. My ex-husband has been trying to take everything from me in this divorce, but he can’t take this.

  “This way,” she sings, walking past me. Her heels click on the floor, and I tilt my head sideways to look at them. The heel is really tall, and the straps wrap around her ankles. I’ve never worn anything like those before, but I need to get some shoes like that for sure.

  I follow her across the hall and into a locker room. Both sides of the room are stacked with silver mini lockers, and a bench sits in the middle.

  “This is the locker room, here is your locker.” She stops and hands me a piece of paper from her cleavage, reminding me of the fortune you get from a fortune cookie at a Chinese restaurant.

  “I’m the only one who has the code to open this, so it’s safe for your purse or other shit you want to lock.” She looks at me, her lips pursed and eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings.

  “Okay,” I mutter, taking the code.

  She takes off again, and I make a mental note of the locker number and hurry up behind her. In the main area where the stage and chairs are, I take the chance to look around. I never get to see inside these places because they only come alive at night.

  “You need to come two hours before opening hour to rehearse, get used to the pole. One of the girls might help you with a couple dance moves, they may not. You’ll dance one week from today and if you screw it up, then you’re fired.”

  She looks over her shoulder. “So I suggest you get some clothes, get the moves, and get the personality if you wanna work here.” She huffs, crossing her arms. My brows furrow from her tone, it’s almost as if she doesn’t like me. Lifting my chin, I nod at whatever she says. I need this job, it’s the only job left in this town that I can get at this point.

  “Are you scared?” she asks with amusement, and my eyes narrow in on her.

  “Not at all,” I lie. I’m terrified. Only one man has ever seen my body naked and now I’m going to put it on display for strangers.

  Her eyes size me up, her lips pulling into a smirk. “Good. If you work out, you’ll be like the babysitter every man wants to fuck. You lo
ok obtainable.” She so bravely puts, and I have to keep myself from choking on my next breath.

  “No body hair whatsoever, if you need to be waxed I can hook you up with the club’s salon. Don’t put on lotion or moisturizer because you’ll slide right off the pole and get hurt, and the smell rubs off on the clients and then we have angry wives calling asking why their men smell like a ho. Don’t wear heels higher than seven inches. I would check out the brand Pleasers, they’re the most popular and have a ton to pick from. You have to pay the club a hundred dollars a night to dance here, if we have celebrities, the house pay-out is higher.”

  She stops rambling, her hand in the air as she turns around so quickly her hair slaps me in the face. I’m overwhelmed by her presence alone, much less all this new information.

  “You won’t be ready for private dances, so we don’t have to go over that,” she informs, cheek in tongue. Meanwhile, I’m trying to remember everything she just said. What kind of shoes did she say to get?

  “Walk slowly through the club, you’re a goddess men want to stare at. If you waltz in here like a crackhead, you become unappealing. Do not ever sit or stand on the floor and do not get drunk while on the clock.”

  “Oh-okay,” I mumble. “Should I be writing this down?” I ask as she continues to ramble off rules. Most companies give you sheets of paper to look over and sign, but Valley is just assuming I’m going to remember all of this.

  She makes a humming noise as if I amuse her and smiles.

  “One last thing. Do not bother or talk to North.” Her tone dips and I’m taken aback.

  “Who is North?”

  “He is a part of the motorcycle club that owns this club. He sits in that chair.” She points to a lone high back throne sitting in the back. “That’s the most important rule, Aspen.”

  Taking my eyes from the Game of Thrones looking chair, I shrug.

  “Not a problem. I’m done with men, they all suck,” I growl, my ex-husband leaving a sore spot in my chest.

  “Welcome to Centerfolds, Aspen.”

  Walking out of the dark building, the sunlight blinds me causing me to raise my hand and shield my eyes. My phone rings in my purse, and I stop in the middle of the parking lot to find it. I swear this purse eats everything that goes inside of it. Finally, all the way at the bottom of the damn thing, I pull out a pay-as-you-go phone and answer it.

  “Hello?”

  “Did you get a job yet?” my mom greets, and I roll my eyes.

  “I did, actually.”

  She sighs heavily into the phone, not happy that I’m becoming independent without her, my husband, or the Lord’s help.

  “You know, I’ve been praying you’d gain your senses and go back to your husband like the Lord wants, Aspen.” Her voice cracks with disappointment, and my heart aches. Ever since me and Kace started seeing differently, my mother has done nothing but throw Bible verses at me, telling me to stay with my husband during the hard times as well as the good. I loved Kace, and did everything to make him happy, but when his devotion leaned more to drugs and booze instead of his daughter and I. I decided game over last time his fist collided with my face.

  Jerking my car door open, tears in my eyes that my own parents won’t help me in my time of despair, I hammer in the final nail to the coffin that defines our relationship.

  “Yeah, well, because of Kace, my job is stripping. I had to get a job at a strip club so I can try and keep my daughter!” I holler into the phone.

  “ASPEN! You are not to show your flesh—”

  “I don’t have a choice. You think this is easy for me? Because it’s not. It’s the only way!” I throw my purse into the passenger side of the car, tears streaming down my face.

  “You’re not my daughter. You can’t be. Until you cleanse your soul and take back your husband, don’t you dare step foot in this house. Do you understand me? And that goes for that abomination of a child!”

  I grit my teeth, how dare she say that about her own granddaughter.

  “I told your daddy from the start, I didn’t think that was Kace’s kid and seeing how you so easily decided to be a whore, I’d say my suspicion was right!”

  Feeling more angry than ever, I scream into the phone and hang up, tossing it onto the dashboard.

  My back begins to sweat sitting inside the steaming hot car, my palms sweating as I strangle the steering wheel.

  Clenching my eyes shut, I see Kace and I as kids, sneaking out and being mischievous. The smiles on our faces and the butterflies in our bellies. But when I open my I remember the pain and hurt of Kace, the pulling of my hair and screaming in my face when he’d come home after work drunk from meeting his buddies at the bar.

  I can’t live in the past, I have to live for the future and as I stare at the strip club in front of me I think it’s safe to say that those sweet sixteen memories are done for.

  I have to make it on my own, even if it means going against everything I was ever taught.

  One

  North

  Curling my fingers into dull blonde hair, I tilt her head back as far as it will go, the light above us illuminating the sweat glistening on her neck. She moans, the sound of her whimpers conveying she’s close to coming, but too bad for her, I’m closer.

  Gritting my teeth, I come, the expression on my face hardening as I finish, leaving her wanting for more as I pull out of her.

  Turning away, I tug the condom from my dick, the sound of me pulling up my pants and loss of breath filling the room.

  “You really are an ass, North,” she complains, tugging her jean skirt over her bare ass.

  With a smirk on my face, I toss the condom in the wastebasket in the corner of the office and look at her. “Yet, you keep coming back for more, Valley. Why is that?”

  Straightening the extensions hanging out of her hair, she glares at me with an unreadable twinkle in her eyes. “Good question,” she mumbles unhappily. But she knows why she keeps coming back, and it’s because the times I do let her come… she almost passes out from lack of oxygen and pleasure. Valley has had something for me since the day we met, and we’ve been fuck buddies ever since.

  Shaking my head at her attitude, I zip up my jeans and open the door to walk out of the office. The music is loud through the strip club as usual, spotlights of every color pulsating to the rhythm of the song playing through the speakers. The walls are dark with no windows because no one has any business looking in, the matching black hardwood floors creak beneath my boots as I take note of the place filling up which is normal for us. Centerfolds is the best place to be Thursday night through Sunday morning. Our women are talented and classy, and we have alcohol which a lot of clubs in this area don’t have.

  Our floor host, Ariel, spots me, her eyes lighting up as she locks in on me. With hair as bright red as the mermaid Disney character, but with eyeshadow always perfected in wild vibrant colors, she is a character of her own making. Tonight, she’s in a black tank top and leather shorts leave little to the imagination, but just enough for me to wonder when Valley will promote her to dancing so I can see what she’s got under those skimpy clothes.

  “Hi North.” She winks before walking past me, allowing her hand to lightly brush down my arm, feeling my muscles.

  “Hey sweetheart,” I reply, but I doubt she hears me over the rap music thumping through the building.

  Each dancer picks their songs, which means the night is filled with a wide variety of music. Two steps up, I find my way to my chair. I sit here three nights a week to make sure everything goes smoothly. It’s a high back leather throne with a footstool to rest my feet. The location gives me full view of the entire place, except for the private dance area. My job is to protect the women and keep the club from the cop’s radar.

  I’m the key enforcer for the Kings of Carnage MC. Centerfolds is one of the multiple business fronts to float clean money for our other ventures that are far from walking the lines of the law. We’re not a huge club, but we can’t have
any reason for authorities to look into our shit. So my job is mostly to keep Centerfolds quiet and be the muscle on runs.

  The lights dim just as my ass hits the seat. One of our girls named Bad Bunny begins swirling around the chrome pole like an angel kicked from Heaven for her sins as she descends to Hell with the rest of us. With her legs wrapped around the pole, she bends to the point her black hair nearly touches her ass. She’s thicker than some of the other women, but her perky tits and pink nipples fit her figure perfectly. Besides, she wouldn’t be up there if she wasn’t one of the best. We don’t have half-ass talent here, Centerfolds is the real deal.

  Ariel steps up to my chair and hands me a beer like she does every night just as the next girl comes onto the stage to the left to dance. “Pony” by Ginuwine plays, a song played regularly by the girls. I’d be a liar if I said I hadn’t gotten drunk a couple times and took the pole into my own hands a time or two myself. I like to dance when I’m hammered, what can I say? The girls around here call me Magic Mike two-point O.

  I visually scan the area, making sure everyone is behaving beneath me. All eyes are on the dancer as the testosterone can be felt in the air.

  Guys standing on the floor cheer for Bad Bunny, throwing twenties and fifties at her in hopes she’ll grace them with her presence even if it’s just to take their money. Rubbing my chin, I take her in. From those gaudy pink heels to the fake bunny ears on her head. She’s a looker, but annoying as fuck. Get her backstage and she’ll talk your fucking ear off about her damn cat back at home. The only pussy I want to talk about is the pussy I stick my cock in.