I lock eyes with Kentlee, who offers me a smile and waves me over. She’s standing with a really pretty, but very young girl who has light brown hair, almost blonde.
“Oh, my gosh, drama,” she chuckles, breaking away from Fury, who had his hand wrapped around her waist.
“Yeah,” I mutter as we embrace in a hug.
“This is Hattie. She’s Dirty Johnny’s Old Lady,” Kentlee announces, introducing me to the girl, who now has Johnny wrapped around her.
“Nice to meet you, I smile.”
“I hear you’ve got an Old Man now,” Kentlee smirks.
“Baby girl,” Fury says in a warning tone.
“I do,” I say nervously as I tuck some hair behind my ear.
Her eyes take in my face before they drift down, and then her body freezes when I know she’s locked in on my tattoo.
“Oh, my god, it’s gorgeous,” she says excitedly. “Hattie, look at her mark. Rosie, you have to see this,” she calls out.
Hattie and Rosie both walk over to look at my thigh, where Kentlee is bent down. Rosie smiles softly and tells me it’s really pretty before she’s off to do whatever it was she was doing before, probably standing in the corner waiting to go home.
I remember Kentlee telling me once that she hates coming to the clubhouse, but she does for special occasions.
“Wow, it’s so pretty; so delicate looking,” Hattie practically whispers.
I look down and see that she’s got her own brand on the inside of her forearm. She’s Johnny’s, for the world to see, and I can tell by the way he’s watching her, she will be for eternity.
“Thank you,” I say with a smile.
“So are you Pierce’s new mommy?” Kentlee asks before she throws back her head with laughter at her own awful joke.
“Don’t be gross,” I say, scrunching my nose up.
“I’m sorry, but what the hell?” Kentlee asks before their youngest, Danger, runs up to her and throws his body into her legs. She doesn’t skip a beat before she picks him up and places a kiss on his cheek.
“It just happened,” I say with a shrug as my eyes skirt the room and land on him. He’s bellied up to the bar with Dirty Johnny, Fury, and Grizz.
“I could see that,” Hattie mumbles underneath her breath.
“Hattie likes older men,” Kentlee says with a smile and a wink.
“What am I going to do with my brother?” I ask.
Danger wriggles out of Kentlee’s arms and runs over to Fury. I watch as he swings him up in his massive arms and kisses the side of his head before Max takes him and holds him in his own arms. My belly flips at the sight.
I watch as he talks to him, their heads pressed close together. Danger wraps his fingers in Max’s beard and says something that makes Max laugh. It’s right here, in this exact moment, that I know, for one hundred percent certain, that I want to give him more children.
“Oh shit, she’s got the baby bug,” Kentlee says.
It takes everything inside of me to tear my eyes away from the sight of Max and Danger, but I do.
“What’s that mean?” I ask.
“Well, I was talking to you, telling you to give your brother a little time. Brentlee will talk to him. If anybody can calm him down, it’s her—but you were stuck, staring at your man and a child together. Obviously, you’ve been hit by the baby bug,” she shrugs.
“We’re trying,” I blurt before I cover my mouth in shock.
“You’re—trying?” she wheezes. “Does Max know you’re trying?” she asks suspiciously.
“Oh, my God, are you fucking serious with me right now?” I ask in surprise.
“He’s sixty, Mary-Anne,” she says, arching a brow.
“Yes, he knows. It was his idea,” I announce before I leave her and walk over to Max.
“I’m going to go to bed,” I murmur into his ear.
He’s not holding Danger anymore, and he pulls me against his side, brushing his lips across my temple before he whispers in my ear.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I lie.
“Tell me,” he grunts, calling me on my lie.
“I’m just tired,” I lie again.
“Okay, sweetness, we’ll hit the hay. The kids are leaving now anyway,” he says as he slides off of the stool.
All three of Kentlee and Fury’s children run over to him and take turns giving him hugs. Fury announces that we’re going to his house tomorrow to hang out and then have dinner. It’s one of the last places I want to go, but I smile and nod my head like I’m excited for the evening.
Max doesn’t get to see his family much, and I need to suck it up, no matter how irritated with Kentlee I am. Knowing Kentlee, she’ll apologize all over herself tomorrow and we’ll be fine. At this point, though, I just feel like I can’t handle anymore criticism.
Max and I don’t say anything as we strip and crawl into bed. Luckily, he seems to be as exhausted as I am when he pulls my back into his chest. He rolls us slightly so that I’m lying on my stomach on the bed, and he’s covering half of my back.
“Get some rest, sweetness. Tomorrow, things will be different. Emotions will be calmer,” he murmurs against my shoulder before placing a gentle kiss there.
“Yeah,” I say, disbelieving.
“I love you, Mary,” he whispers into the dark.
“I love you, Maxfield,” I say softly. He squeezes me a little tighter before he hums.
He falls asleep quickly, his deep, even breaths being the sign that he’s asleep. I don’t fall so quickly. I stare into the dark room and I think.
I think about how Bates must be feeling. It’s true, Max is older than our father, and yet, I don’t see him that way when I look at him.
Maybe there is something wrong with me.
We’ve only ever been out and about in his town, around his brothers, and they’re accepting—they have to be. Plus, they probably don’t care who he’s fucking. My brother cares, Fury probably cares, and now they all think I’m a freak.
The sun comes up and I’m still awake, still staring into the room, wondering what the fuck is wrong with me. Why do all of these people that I know and love think Max and I are so wrong when I don’t think that at all?
To me, he’s never felt more—right.
MADDOG
My eyes open to Mary’s profile. Immediately, I know that she’s lost in her head, thinking fucked up thoughts. Last night didn’t go as I’d planned, not at all.
Sniper didn’t need to see me fucking his little sister that way, and Mary-Anne didn’t need his reaction thrown at her, either.
I don’t know what she and the girls talked about, but I didn’t see her laughing and having a great time, so I assume it was more shit being spewed about us being together.
“Gotta get that shit outta your head, sweetness,” I murmur, pressing my lips to her shoulder.
“What shit?” she asks, turning to face me.
“Whatever shit you got swirling around in that gorgeous head of yours that’s making your face look that way.”
She doesn’t say anything, and that’s when I know that she’s got major fucked up thoughts running through her mind.
I can imagine and I can guess, but I refuse to give it thought. I push back onto my knees, sitting up and grabbing one of her legs before spreading her thighs wide.
“Max,” she says with a hint of irritation that I choose to ignore.
I hook her knees over my shoulders and sink down to align my face with her cunt.
“No more talking, Mary, no more thinking,” I grunt, licking her entire center with one long stroke of my tongue.
“How can I not think?” she asks on groan.
“You need to feel, sweetness. All that matters is how I make you feel, Mary. The rest of that shit, that’s other people’s opinions. At the end of the day, their opinions don’t fucking matter. You’re not fucking them, you’re fucking me. My name is not on their bodies, it’s on yours. My baby isn’t going to be inside of them
, it’s going to be inside of you.”
I don’t give her a chance to respond before I’m face deep in her pussy, devouring her cunt, and loving every single second of it as I do.
Her taste, her whimpers, her cries, they’re the best sounds in the world to me; and right now, she’s filling this quiet room with them.
I know when all thoughts leave her because she fists her fingers in my hair and sobs out her release as she grinds against my beard.
I don’t stop fucking her with my mouth until her body relaxes. I press my lips to my name on her pussy, then I slide up her body, resting my dick against her belly.
I want to pound inside of her, but I don’t. She needs a little tenderness this morning. As much as I want to take from her, I won’t.
Sometimes, you have to give when you’re in love with a woman; sometimes, you have to read them and know what they need—even if they don’t.
“Max,” she whispers, cupping my cheeks with her palms.
“Sweetness.”
“Alone, in this room, we make so much sense. But out there,” she says with a shake of her head.
I wrap my hand around her thigh, covering her tattoo before I squeeze her gently.
“Baby, we make sense. Here and out there, we do. You’re letting other people’s opinions muddy your head. I can’t fix that for you. All I can do is tell you and show you how you make me feel and how important you are to me. The rest, that’s on you, sweetness. Would fuckin’ gut me to see you walk away from this, from us. But darlin’, I’d let you go if I thought you weren’t happy.”
“Don’t leave me,” she whispers as her eyes fill with tears.
I lift my hips and slowly glide into her wet heat, watching her face as it softens. She moans as she adjusts her legs to wrap around my thighs.
Sliding my fingers into her hair at the sides of her head, I stare into her eyes as I take her body. She needs to see me, all of me, and I aim to show it to her. I’m not losing her, not over something as fucking stupid as other people’s fucking opinions.
“Ain’t goin’ nowhere, sweetness,” I murmur as I fuck her with long, even strokes.
“You always feel so good, Max, you fit just right,” she whispers as she hitches one of her legs up and presses her knee against my ribcage. I sink a little deeper inside of her with a grind against her clit.
“Baby, you felt just right the second you wrapped your arms around my middle and I drove you away from your apartment,” I grunt.
“Maxfield,” she whispers.
It goes straight to my fucking dick. Nobody has ever called me that, not in my adult life; and every time it escapes her lips, I love it just a little bit more.
“Come for me, sweetness. Come for me and stay at my side,” I mumble as I keep my eyes connected with her watery ones.
She bites her lip with a nod as she lifts her hips to meet mine. Her pussy flutters around me before it clamps down, and she squeaks out a surprised noise as she comes. I thrust deep inside of her and stay planted as I follow her with my own climax.
Once we’ve recovered, I press my lips to hers, and she opens her mouth to speak.
“No more bullshit, sweetness. Don’t let their words penetrate, because right here, you and me, alone in this bed—that’s all that fuckin’ matters,” I grunt.
“Okay, Max,” she whispers.
“You gotta do better than that, Mary.”
“Okay, Max,” she says a little louder, but still weak as shit.
“How are you going to stand up to your brother, to your girls, with that?” I challenge.
“We are all that matters. How you make me feel, how you treat me, and how you fuck me,” she shouts, her face pink with anger.
I chuckle, the move making my now soft dick fall from her heat before I lean down and press my lips against hers.
“Okay, sweetness. You’re good, yeah?”
“I’m good,” she says on a sigh as my lips kiss down her chest. I take one of her nipples in my mouth.
I don’t say anything else. There’s nothing else to say at the moment. Instead, I feast on her tits—tits I fucking love to lick and kiss. T
hen I thrust two fingers inside of her pussy and slowly fuck her with them. Her body shivers as she spreads her legs wider for me, gently thrusting her hips with my tempo.
“How good are you, Mary?” I ask as I continue to fuck her.
“So good,” she moans. I press my thumb against her clit and she shivers again.
When Mary comes, I can’t help but feel like I’m a fucking king. Three times in one morning—Christ. Once her body relaxes, I slip my fingers from her center and I paint my name on the lip of her pussy with our mixed cum.
“Max,” she murmurs. Looking up at her, I see that her lids are lowered and she looks tired, yet satisfied.
“You’re mine, Mary. Every part of you belongs to me now,” I grunt.
“Every part of me?” she asks, arching her brow.
“Every single fuckin’ part of you.”
“What about that letting me go thing you said earlier?” she asks.
“I know you’re not unhappy, you’re just listening to people’s shit. So fuck that, you’re mine. Your body knows it, and so does your head. You just have to accept it and realize that nobody is always going to agree with us being together. They’re going to have opinions, but that’s just the way people are. Opinions are like assholes; everybody’s got one. You let their shitty opinions penetrate and affect you, then you’re not the strong woman I’ve thought you were all this time.”
“That’s not fair. These aren’t just opinions of strangers, Max. They are our family,” she murmurs, sitting up to look at me. That fire burning in her eyes means she’s gearing up for a fight.
“They can be family and have shit opinions, sweetness,” I grunt as I stand and start to throw some clothes on to make my way to the showers.
“Them being concerned isn’t a shitty opinion,” she shouts.
“It is when it has you second guessing us. My name’s on your body, my baby could be growing inside of you, and a couple people pass judgement and you’re ready to bolt. Fuck. That.”
“It’s not that simple, Max,” she cries.
My patience with her and with this situation is now nil. I walk up to her, where she stands at the side of the bed, having thrown one of my shirts over her naked body, and I don’t stop making my way toward her until her back is against the wall.
She hits the wall with a thump, but I don’t hear it over the rush of blood running through my body, the anger boiling inside of me, my patience completely fucking gone.
She opens her mouth, but I ignore her and wrap my hand around her throat, squeezing—not hard, but enough for her to know I’m fucking serious. Then I lean in, our noses touching, and her breath shaky.
“I’m done with this conversation. I don’t want to have it again. Do you fucking understand me?”
She nods with a jerk of her head and I see the fear in her eyes, but I’m too fucking pissed off to care.
“You’re mine. All of you. You’re marked, your cunt is branded. That’s the end of the conversation.”
I release her and walk away. Slamming the door behind me when I go. I know I’m being an asshole, but I don’t fucking care.
I’ve held her while she cried—I’ve fucking fallen in love with her.
If she’s ashamed of us, of me, that’s something she has to deal with. I’m not fucking going anywhere.
I shower, and by the time I’m finished, the bedroom is empty. I dress and leave, taking a few of my guys with me. I’ll be back before dinner with Fury and the kids, but I have shit to handle today, and Mary-Anne has some fucking thinking to do.
Chapter Twenty-One
MARY-ANNE
I hurry to the showers once Max storms out of the bedroom without so much as a glance back at me. He’s pissed and I understand why.
He told me he loved me.
He opened up to me.
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p; He’s taken me as I am. He’s remodeled his house—a home he shared with his wife, his deceased wife.
He’s done all these things for me to show me that he loves me and that I have a place at his side. He’s made me his Old Lady, which is as good as walking me down the aisle.
And what do I do? I tell him that I’m having doubts; that other people’s opinions mean more to me than everything he’s said and not said, but shown me.
I’m a special kind of bitch.
I walk back into the bedroom and notice that Max’s bags have been rifled through, and he’s gone. I quickly dress, throwing on a floral maxi-dress.
It’s completely backless, save for a few strands of fabric that hold it up, criss-crossing my bare back.
I slide my feet into a pair of flat sandals, and braid my wet hair down my shoulder. I don’t bother with makeup. I’m not in the mood for it, and I’m in a hurry to go apologize to Max.
Once I’m downstairs, I slump my shoulders when I realize that not only is Max gone, but so are three of the men that traveled with us here.
I walk into the kitchen, in search of coffee or tea or something that will wake me up a bit, and I’m surprised to find Brentlee there.
“Hey,” I say as I walk over to the coffee pot.
“Drink this, that’s crap. These assholes can’t make coffee,” she chuckles, shoving a store-bought coffee at me.
I gladly take it and then sip from the container, thrilled that it’s a mocha and not a plain black coffee.
“Thank you so much,” I moan.
“We have to talk, before your brother gets ahold of you,” she says with a grin.
“About?” I ask, arching a brow.
“I like you and MadDog together. I think that, given your childhood, you need a man who can take care of you,” she begins. I take a step back from her in surprise, but also defensively. “I know what Bates and your mother suffered at your father’s hand, so I can only imagine what you’ve been through.”
I nod. I was abused by my father, silently and secretly until Bates left, then it was just me and mom and his fists.
“Bates will come around. He’ll see how happy you are, and the rest of it won’t matter. It’ll take time, though,” she says with a sad smile.
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