“Ready, Sweet Pea?” Ace asks, standing at my opened car door.
I blink, unbelieving that I didn’t hear him. With a nod, I attempt to slip out of the car as ladylike as possible. When Ace smirks, his eyes pointed at my crotch, I know I’ve failed. Oh well, he’s seen every square inch of me already anyway.
Gracie waves from the front porch and hurries down as we approach. “Hey, how are you?” she asks.
We talk for a few minutes and she reassures me that everything will be fine. They’ll be locked up safely in the house, Lea is thirteen and very capable of caring for them. There are three prospects that will be guarding the house. Lea promises to call Skinner, Ace, Snake, or Crooner if she has any issues. All men will have their phones on and since Gracie is Skinner’s woman, she’ll make sure he answers if it rings.
“I feel slightly more at ease,” I admit with a cringe.
Gracie laughs, her sweet voice filling the air. “It’s normal. You’re a mom, I completely understand.”
“Thanks,” I breathe.
“You also deserve a night out with friends, and that’s exactly what you’re going to have,” she grins.
I shake my head, my eyes shifting from her over to Ace who is crouched down and having a one-on-one with Axe. They hug one another and my heart squeezes. “I haven’t known Keys for very long, but he looks damn happy.”
Without looking over at her, I can’t, because I can’t take my eyes off of Ace, I say, “He didn’t know Axe existed. I think he’s happy to have him in his life,” I smile.
Gracie snorts, and my eyes shift back over to her. “I’m sure he is, but girl, he’s happy to have all of you in his bed, too. It’s a package he’s probably thanking his lucky stars for,” she grins.
I shake my head. I should tell her that yeah, it’s a package deal. I’m the caretaker of his son, and there to warm his bed, sure, but it’s nothing more. There’s no love on his end, nothing more than what my body can provide for him, and that’s it.
“I know how a man looks when he’s thanking his maker for giving him the sweetest things in life. The good things, the things he’s been hoping and praying for. That’s how Skinner looks at me, and that’s how Keys looks at you.”
I open my mouth to protest but both of the men, Skinner and Ace, walk up to our huddle. “You ready, Jet?” he asks her.
She tips her head back, looking up at him with a gigantic smile on her lips. “Yeah, Beau,” she breathes then she turns to us. “See you at the party.” She lifts her hand and waves as she hurries behind him toward his bike.
“You ready, Sweet Pea?” Ace asks, slipping his hand around my waist, all the way around to my stomach. “This shirt, good fucking God. Never wear it without me around,” he grunts.
“Why?” I ask, turning my head to look up at him.
His eyes meet mine and I watch as his brows lift. “Carson,” he growls. I continue staring at him keeping my face impassive even though I want to laugh. “You’re fuckin’ with me.”
Smiling, I nod. “I am. I wore this shirt for you, Ace. I’ve never worn it in public. I’ve had it for years,” I shrug.
His hand slides up and he wraps his fingers around my breast, squeezing me. I gasp which causes him to chuckle. “No bra, fuck. Get in the car. I’m fuckin’ you on the way there,” he growls.
“Ace,” I breathe.
He grunts. “Oh yeah, Sweet Pea. I’m fucking you nice and hard before I take you out to party.”
KEYS
CARSON SHIFTS from side to side in the passenger seat of the car. I grin, refusing to look at her as I drive toward a secluded area. We aren’t too far from the clubhouse, and I know nobody will venture out to see who is parked where we’re going to be. Taking the backroad that skirts the edge of the clubhouse’s property, I shift the truck into park and kill the lights.
“Ace,” she finally mutters from next to me.
Turning toward her, I lift my arm and wrap my fingers around her seat’s headrest. “Carson, I can’t walk into that party with you looking like that. I’m trying to keep myself in check, but damn, you’re too fucking sexy.”
She bites the corner of her lip, her eyes traveling down to the hard bulge in my jeans and I watch as those pretty blue eyes widen. Something moves over her face, something I’m not sure I like. She looks, resigned almost. Frowning, I move my hand from the headrest to wrap around the back of her neck, careful not to touch her still healing ink.
“The fuck, Carson?” I mutter.
She shakes her head once, shimmying her skirt up her hips. “You want me on top?” she asks, an almost dead look in her eyes.
“What in the fuck?” I roar.
Her eyes widen, and she rears back like I’ve physically assaulted her. “You can’t go into the clubhouse like that. It’s my job to take care of it, I’m ready,” she nods.
Her job? Her fucking Job?
Releasing her neck, I scrub my hand down my face, then slide my fingers through my hair, trying and failing to gain my goddamn composure and self-control. Throwing my hand up in the air, I slam my palm against the steering wheel, this entire night already gone to goddamn shit.
“Don’t worry about your job,” I spit. “Got at least fifteen bitches in there that are gagging to fall on my cock, babe. You’re off the hook for the night,” I grunt, starting the engine.
“Ace,” she whispers.
Turning to her, I narrow my eyes. “You can call me Keys, all the whores do. Since that’s what you apparently are, that’s what you can call me,” I state.
My aim hits true, I watch her eyes well up with tears, I can even see them in this dark ass car. The fucker of it all, is that my heart aches at the sight.
“You don’t mean that,” she whispers.
I snort. “Bitch, I don’t say shit for kicks. I mean what I say, and I say what I fuckin’ mean. I don’t play goddamn games.”
I leave the secluded area and find my way toward the clubhouse gates. We pull into the parking lot, I shift the truck into park and I slide out of the car leaving her alone.
Fuck her.
She tells me she loves me, then she pulls this goddamn shit.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CARSON
I MESSED UP. I messed up big time. Honestly, I was feeling—used and plain dirty when he said what he did. When Ace basically told me to service him because he couldn’t possibly go anywhere until his dick was drained. Maybe it’s immature of me to say what I did, to feel the way that I do. But it’s genuine, honest, and I’m tired.
I’m tired of him keeping me at arm’s length, of making my place crystal clear. Of taking my words of love and acting as if he didn’t even hear me. He’s throwing a fancy house and new furniture at me, marking me with his name but he’s not giving me himself.
I don’t know a damn thing about him, but I’m supposed to be his woman, supposed to smile and ride his dick anytime he snaps his fingers. Taking care of Axe isn’t even a question, he’s mine and I’ll do that until the day that I die. But being Ace’s little wifey, I’m not sure I’m up for the task of being his lapdog.
Slowly, I slide out of the SUV careful to keep my legs closed. The parking lot looks empty enough, but who knows what lurks behind all of the dark cars and bikes. With a shaky breath, I walk toward the loud music and louder people.
I notice a bonfire in the back and frown unsure of where Ace went off to. Deciding to walk into the bar, I hope that I see a familiar face. Traci and Ginger are here for sure, Esme probably is too. Though they aren’t exactly who I’m looking for, I’m hoping to see Roxanne.
The bar is smoky, cigar, cigarette, and weed fill the air. The smell isn’t unpleasant, reminds me of my childhood really. I snort, my mom and her boyfriends were almost always smoking or injecting something. Personally, I’d rather smell smoke than watch someone zone out from meth or heroine.
Taking in the bar, I search for Roxanne. I suck in a breath when I finally find her, not that it’s hard to find her. She�
�s standing on top of a table, Houston frowning up at her. She’s dancing to the song blasting through the speakers. She looks high almost, and if I didn’t know her better, I would guess that was the case.
Houston’s eyes meet mine and his brows knit together, I start to walk over to him, but he shakes his head. Stopping in the middle of the bar, I watch Roxie. Her eyes are closed, she’s swaying back and forth. Her jeans are tight, her top lowcut and tighter. Her hair wild, and if you didn’t know anything about her, you would guess she was just a wild chick out for a good time.
I know her. At least, I thought I did. Living next door to me, she didn’t go out, her boyfriend did. She came over with wine and hung out with me, chatting, watching movies, just being a friend. She didn’t party, she wasn’t like my mom or my sister, she was good, clean and the nicest person I knew. This version, the version from the past couple of weeks, I do not know.
“Fuck,” a voice hisses behind me.
I turn around and there’s a man standing there, but I don’t see him. What I do see is Ace standing with what is obviously a clubwhore at his side. His palm is pressed against her lower back, her tits and front are plastered to his side and her lips are on his neck.
His eyes are on me though, narrowed and angry as he watches me. He brings a beer to his mouth and takes a pull, I watch as the liquid works down his throat. Narrowing my own gaze at him, I’m pissed because even with that slut attached to him, he’s still hot as shit and my belly clenches at the sight of him.
“Wanna a beer? Dance?” the same voice from just a moment ago asks.
Tearing my eyes away from Ace, I look over at the man who is oblivious to my staring competition with Ace. It’s Baby. I tip my lips in a smile. “Hey, Baby,” I whisper.
He looks behind him to Ace, then back to me. “You’re marked as his, but he’s got Jizzy attached to him and looks like she ain’t releasing anytime soon,” he grins.
I blink back the tears that threaten to fall because naturally, I have to be a damn girl. I wish I didn’t give a shit, I wish I could shrug Ace off. I wish I could care about him as much as he does about me, instead of being head over heels in love with the man.
“Wanna make him jealous?” Baby asks on a chuckle.
My eyes widen, I tip my head back to look into his eyes. He’s got a smug smile on his face and his eyes are dancing in delight. “Why would you want to do that, he’s your brother. Isn’t that against some code or something?” I ask.
He takes a step closer to me, his hand wrapping around my waist. “Yeah, it is. But I like to fuck with my brothers, have a little harmless fun,” he winks.
Frowning, my eyes slide to the side and I see Ace glaring at us. It doesn’t seem harmless, and I shake my head taking a step back. “I don’t play games,” I state.
He rolls his eyes. “None of you Old Ladies do.”
“Would you like some woman who loves you to play games with you?” I ask.
It’s his turn to frown, he shrugs then the hint of vulnerability leaves and he smiles, cockily, again. “Don’t do love, babe. I do fucking, and fun. Tried to settle down once, and it didn’t take. So, now I’m all fun. Fucking with these serious assholes is fun.”
I shake my head. “You’ll fall again, Baby.” Instead of standing there and talking to him any longer, I walk past him and make my way up to the bar. I need a damn drink. The man behind the bar slams down a vanilla ale as soon as I step up to the bar.
“What’s this?” I ask.
His eyes meet mine and he smiles. “A vanilla beer, for the Old Ladies.” He leaves me, assuming I want the sweet beer. Lifting the bottle to my lips, I take a sip and my eyes widen. He assumed correct, it’s awesome.
There’s heat at my back, lips skim my neck and I close my eyes. I know those lips, and even when I’m pissed at them, they still feel fantastic. “You like him touching you?” he asks, his lips still against my skin.
Turning around, I tilt my head back and look up into his angry gaze. “You like that whore draped all over you, her lips on your neck? You like touching her?” I ask, spewing his same shit back at him.
“Big difference there, Sweet Pea,” he shrugs, not looking an ounce remorseful. “You don’t touch, talk to, or even think about another man. You also don’t ask me what I do when you aren’t around. I see I haven’t fully explained to you how things are around here.”
Heat rises in my cheeks, I know my face is probably red, but it isn’t with embarrassment or because I’m turned on, it’s because I’m downright pissed. “I don’t agree to that,” I snap.
Ace snorts, he lifts his hand and places his warm palm against my Keys tattoo. “Don’t give a fuck, Carson. That’s the way it goes, and this ink is not washing off, so you’re fuckin’ stuck with the rules as is, babe.”
I inhale a deep breath, then let it out. “Then I’ll go back to the trailer, and go back to Tank. He said he was an expert at coverups.”
Ace’s face hardens, the likes I’ve never seen before. He bends down, shoves his shoulder in my stomach and hauls me up in the air. His hand covers my exposed pussy and he marches away. I grab ahold of his belt, afraid that he’s going to drop me as he quickly stomps through the clubhouse.
I hear a door slam and I recognize the floor of his room. He doesn’t drop me to the floor though, he deposits me on the bed. He shoves his pants down, and I glance at his hard length. Apparently, being an asshole to me excites him.
Sitting up, I attempt to scoot off of the bed, but he kicks off his pants and is in front of me before I’m able to stand. His palm presses against my chest and firmly he pushes me down until my back is flat on the bed.
“Stay,” he growls.
He crawls up the bed, wrapping his hands around the inside of my knees he quickly spreads my thighs and I feel his length press against my center. He doesn’t enter me. I tense, his angry eyes focused on mine, darker than I’ve ever seen them.
“Don’t ever threaten to leave me again,” he says, his voice deep, husky, and scary. “This ain’t some game, some empty relationship. I put you up in a house that I pay for. I marked your body, and you care for my kid. You’re mine, Carson. No other man touches you. No other man should ever think that he could.”
One of Ace’s hands wraps around the side of my neck, the other dives between us, and I feel his thumb begin to stroke my clit. I whimper. I hate myself. I open my mouth to tell him to stop, but I don’t want him to, not ever.
“Don’t threaten to take this from me, not ever again,” he rasps as he slides inside of me in one slow move.
I lift my hands and wrap my fingers around his biceps, digging my nails into his skin. “Don’t fuck whores. Don’t fuck anyone but me,” I grind out, attempting and failing to be strong and not weak as shit.
He lowers his head, his lips brushing mine, and he keeps his mouth touching my own. “You give me this sweet cunt and I’ll never need to,” he breathes.
I pull away from his mouth. “Not your personal fuck slave,” I spit. His hand moves from the side of my neck to the front of my throat and he squeezes gently, his hips moving a little harder, and faster, grinding his pelvis against my clit deliciously.
“You are. Just like anytime you need dick, I got one for you to ride, Sweet Pea.”
I growl, digging my nails into his arms even harder. He grins down at me, clearly unaffected by my attempt to harm him. “Christ, Carson, give me those fucking claws. Mark me,” he grinds out.
His hips move faster, slamming against me. My nails drag down his arms which only makes him buck harder, his eyes glittering as he looks down at me. “I hate you,” I breathe, lifting my hips to feel him deeper.
He grunts. His breathing becoming heavier, panting harder. “You love me.”
Tears fall down my cheeks as I throw my head back, my climax taking over, my pussy tightening. I shift my hands to his back, trying to hold him against me. Thankfully, his chest lowers, and he buries his face in my neck as he groans and comes inside of me.<
br />
KEYS
I’M A DICK.
An asshole.
Fuck.
Rolling off of her, I pull her against me, not allowing her to leave, to even attempt to stand from this goddamn bed. I should apologize. I won’t. But I should. Carson places her palm on my chest, then sits up, her braid falling to the side and her hair falling out of it, mussed up from fucking.
“Ace,” she whispers.
Lifting my hand, I cup her cheek. “You need words, I don’t understand why you do.” She frowns, not understanding my meaning. “I show you how I feel about you, every goddamn day. I show you.”
Without a word, she pushes all the way up and crawls over me, straddling my thighs. My cum leaks out onto my stomach and I grab her thighs, squeezing her in an attempt not to work my way back up to fucking her again, it would be too fucking easy. Her blue eyes meet mine. Swear to fuck my heart stops at the sight of her, the emotion that’s threatening to bubble out of her tiny body.
“You show me?” she asks, her voice gentle, which does not match the expression on her face.
Lifting my hand, I wrap it around the front of her throat again, enjoying the way her slim neck feels beneath my palm. I could break her neck in a split second, she’s so goddamn vulnerable. No matter how strong she is on the inside, her body is easily breakable. A surge of need rushes through me, the need to protect her—protect what’s mine.
“I do,” I state. “You think I didn’t give a flying fuck about you I’d put you up in that nice crib? That I’d buy you a brand new off the lot SUV? You think I didn’t give a fuck about you, I’d let you continue to be the mother to my son?”
She sucks her lips in as she takes a breath. She doesn’t believe me. She will, she’ll have no choice. “Why’d you let that bitch touch you?” she demands.
“Prove a point,” I simply state. Her eyes water and I squeeze her neck a bit firmer. “Not saying it was right. Not saying it was what I should have done, but I’m answering you honestly.”
She shakes her head, letting out a deep breath. “Never again,” she states. I lift a brow, but she continues. “We’re going to fight. I don’t want to think every time we have any kind of disagreement that you’re going to run to some other woman’s bed. I refuse to live that way. I saw it too much in my life and I won’t have it for myself. I won’t have babies with someone who treats me like that,” she announces.
Blended with Pain: Notorious Devils (Cash Bar Book 4) Page 21
