Rough & Ruthless (Notorious Devils Book 4)

by Hayley Faiman

  I make my way to the shower, needing to wash Kyle’s blood off of me. After I sodomized him with the bat, I sawed off his dick, then his nuts, with a rusty blade that I had, leaving my regular one off to the side. Then I disemboweled him.

  Sick? Yeah.

  Wrong? Sure.

  I didn’t feel guilty. He had no qualms about whoring Mary-Anne out, a woman he claimed to love. He also hit her, something I couldn’t just let slide.

  Now, he’s no longer a threat.

  Once I’m finished with my shower, I slide behind Mary in bed, my naked body pressing against her back as I slide my hand along the side of her hip, under her top to her waist, and up to cup her breast. I press my lips to the side of her neck as I knead her soft, supple tit.

  “Max,” she sighs before she rolls over to face me.

  Her eyes are puffy and rimmed with red. She’s been crying, and the evidence causes something inside of me to crack. It actually fucking hurts that she’s been crying, and I know that it’s because of me.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispers.

  “Nothin’ to be sorry for, sweetness,” I murmur, cupping her cheek and wiping away a fresh tear that rolls down her cheek.

  “I did coke, and I haven’t done that since high school, and I acted clingy and crazy.”

  I smile down at her.

  “Don’t give a fuck if you want to do a little blow when we’re partying, sweetness. More concerned with the fact that you thought I’d get tired of you and throw your ass out,” I murmur quietly.

  I can hear the bass from the music at the party, but my focus is Mary. Her breath hitches and it’s so slight, so quiet, that had I not been completely and totally focused on her, I would have missed it completely.

  “I’m so fucked up,” she whispers.

  I slide my hand from her face, down her neck and along her side. Then I tug off her little shorts, leaving her completely naked from the waist down. I press my lips to hers as I wrap my hand behind her knee and spread her leg out and up before I align my dick with her sweet pussy; then I slowly sink inside of her.

  “We’re all fucked up, Mary,” I inform her. I watch as her back arches with the slow thrust of my hips. “Keep those pretty blue eyes on me.”

  “Baby,” she whispers.

  The sound goes straight to my fuckin’ cock. She lifts her hand and wraps it around the side of my neck, her thumb tracing my bottom lip.

  I don’t speak. There are no words needed. She’s fucked up, but I am, too. I’m a sixty-year-old man entering into a relationship with a woman less than half my age, a woman who obviously has daddy issues, a woman who has been abused her entire life.

  Yet, here I am, sinking inside of her tight pussy and asking her to move in with me.

  I look into his eyes as he takes me. It’s slow and sensual, sweet even. It’s the second time he’s taken care with me in our short time together, and yet, it feels like so much more than just sweet sex.

  It feels like our relationship is shifting, even more than it has. We’re something, the two of us, but we’re more, too. It’s so jumbled in my brain. I just know that I don’t want him to leave me, ever. I’ve never felt this way before in my entire life, and I never want it to end.

  “You gonna come for me?” Max asks, his jaw tight as his eyes penetrate mine.

  “Yes,” I breathe as I lift my hips to meet his.

  My fingers tighten around his neck, digging into his skin as my body topples over and I climax beneath him. Max thrusts into me a few more times, a little harder with each pump of his hips, until he freezes, his eyes still focused on mine. He groans with his own release before he presses me into the mattress with his limp body weight.

  “Mary, no more crazy thoughts, okay,” he murmurs against my neck, his cock still moving inside of me with slow strokes.

  “I’ll try,” I say.

  “These bitches are fucking cunts, sweetness. You cannot let them get to you. I’m yours, you’re mine, and that’s all that matters,” he says, lifting his head and looking into my eyes.

  “Okay.”

  “Let’s get some sleep. You’re coming home tomorrow,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to mine before he starts to get up. I wrap my arms and legs around him to keep him from moving off of me.

  “Want your cock inside of me longer,” I whisper.

  “Mary,” he says, his eyes roaming my face. I squeeze my pussy around him and he groans.

  “Love this cock, Max. You feel so good inside of me,” I admit.

  He grunts but stays planted inside of me until I fall asleep.

  Maybe I’m insecure and immature, maybe I’m just a sack of crazy—but maybe, just maybe, I’m exactly where I need to be and with the man I’m supposed to be with. A man who is rough but kind. A man who doesn’t take my shit, but in a way that I feel safe with him, no matter what. A man that I can truly be myself in front of.

  I walk inside of the little yellow house, and I sigh. It looks nothing like Max, inside or out. It’s a sweet, quaint house with a white picket fence and everything.

  I can tell the last woman who lived here was Eleanora, and for some reason, that makes me extremely uncomfortable. She was his wife for fifteen years, and I’m walking into her home; a house that hasn’t changed since her death, almost thirty years ago.

  “I’m not here much,” Max admits, looking around.

  I nod, unsure of what to say, feeling as though I want to go back to the clubhouse, back to his shitty room there, instead of living in Eleanora Duhart’s home. A home she shared with Max; the home Fury was raised in; a house that obviously holds a great deal of memories.

  “You hate it?” Max asks, looking at me, his brows furrowed in concern.

  “I don’t hate it. It’s a very nice home,” I murmur, because it truly is. It just holds nothing of Max and everything of Eleanora. I’m not sure I can even have sex here.

  “Tell me what it is,” he urges, oblivious as to why I might have a problem living here.

  “It’s all Eleanora,” I whisper, looking at my shoes.

  I’m afraid to peek up at him, to see his reaction, thinking that he’ll probably get upset, maybe even angry with me.

  Max steps into my space, one of his hands wrapping around my waist, the other cupping the back of my neck, squeezing it gently. I tip my head back to look at him, then his lips brush mine. He lifts his head and just stares at me for a long moment, his eyes roaming over my face, his jaw hard and his eyes almost narrowed.

  “I fucked up again,” he murmurs. I don’t say a word, my eyes widening. “Should have had this place cleaned out before I brought you here, a clean slate for us.”

  “Us,” I breathe, the word sounding so damn good on my lips.

  “Yeah, sweetness, us. I own the house outright, so I don’t see a need to sell it and get into debt again. But that doesn’t mean it has to stay exactly as is. I should have cleared it out, all of her things, for you,” he murmurs, the intensity on his face and in his eyes never changing.

  “I don’t want to erase her, she was your wife,” I whisper, lying.

  I’m totally and completely lying my ass off. I’m so jealous of the woman, a dead woman who was his wife, who had him for fifteen years before I was even alive.

  “Can’t erase her, Mary. She was part of me, and she’s Pierce’s mother, but she’s not here anymore. You are, and I want you to make this a home for us to share,” he murmurs.

  “Share,” I breathe.

  “You can remodel it anyway you want. I’ll have some of the guys clear out the furniture this afternoon to get started.”

  “Max, I—that’s crazy, you don’t have to do anything today,” I mutter.

  “Need my sweet Mary happy and comfortable so that she’ll never leave me,” he whispers before his lips touch mine.

  I open my mouth and he groans as his tongue slides between my lips and fills me. Max starts to walk, backing me up against the closed front door, and then I feel his cock grind against my
belly button.

  “Max,” I sigh.

  “Not gonna fuck you right now, just needed a taste. Needed to remind you that you’re mine, you’re with me, and I’m with you,” he murmurs as his lips trail down my neck. My fingers dive into his hair, and I grip the soft strands.

  Max releases me and tells me to take my things upstairs. He assures me that the closet is cleared of Eleanora’s clothes, and that it’s just empty and waiting for my things. I’m grateful that he’s not held onto her clothes for thirty years, because I don’t think I could ever cope with that.

  I’m hanging up my new purchases when my phone rings. I look down and am surprised to see that it’s Kyle’s father. I furrow my brow and decide to answer, since he’s never been anything but kind to me. He’s been standoffish, maybe a bit uptight, but he’s always offered a smile when he’s seen me, and he’s never been downright rude to me.

  “Hello?”

  “Mary-Anne?” he asks on the other end. He sounds frazzled, unlike his usually cool tone.

  “Mr. Clark, this is Mary-Anne. Are you all right?”

  “I just. I need to tell you something very disturbing.” I nod as though he can see me, and then I sit down on the floral comforter. “Kyle was murdered yesterday.”

  I gasp, unsure of what else to say. I didn’t love Kyle. Hell, I didn’t even like him, but dead? I never expected that.

  “I know you two were on the outs, but I thought you should hear it from me before you saw it on the news. It was someone I fought to convict,” he whispers. My heart aches for him.

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Clark,” I mutter.

  “It was very brutal, Mary-Anne. The man is no longer living, either, but just in case there are more, always stay vigilant, dear girl,” he advises before ending the call.

  I stare at the light gold shag carpeting. It’s awful, but it’s not what I’m thinking about. I’m thinking about the fact that Max said more than once that Kyle was as good as dead; that he was going to kill not only him, but my father as well.

  I should be scared, maybe even angry, but I’m not.

  I don’t feel anything at all.

  Maybe I am crazy.

  “What’s wrong, Mary?” Max asks standing at the doorway.

  “Kyle’s been murdered,” I say, turning my head to face him.

  Max’s face is completely emotionless, staring at me as if he’s waiting for me to say something else.

  “You did it, didn’t you?” I finally ask.

  “No clue what you’re talking about, sweetness,” he says. His face stays completely impassive, his voice almost robotic.

  “Max,” I breathe.

  “Coupl’a the boys will be here in about thirty with their old ladies and some trucks. I’d like you to meet some of the women,” he announces.

  “Max, we need to talk about this,” I practically shout.

  “No, Mary, we don’t. I’m sorry your ex-prick, who abused you and tried to pimp you out, died. He was a fuckwit and it doesn’t surprise me that someone wanted him gone. He was a piece of shit.”

  “It was you,” I mutter, looking right at him, my eyes focused on his.

  I watch as something flickers beneath those blue eyes, and then he nods before he walks over to me. Standing right in front of me, he buries his hand in the back of my hair and forces my head back, my neck arching to look up at him.

  “You know the kind of man I am, Mary. You know the kind of man I am because you know the kind of man your brother is. You didn’t want Sniper to get in trouble, to get caught hurting this bastard, and I respect that a hell of a lot. Like you said, he’s been through e-fuckin’-nough. But you gotta know, sweetness, that I’m not going to just let a man like Kyle roam freely in this world. Not after the way he treated you, not after you agreed to be mine,” he growls.

  He sounds feral, and as much as I want to be angry with him, it doesn’t stop my nipples from pebbling and my pussy from pulsing with want.

  My next move is something I do out of instinct, without a single thought. I lift my hands, my eyes still held captivated by his, and I reach out for his belt. I unbuckle it, then unbutton his pants and slowly pull his zipper down.

  “Mary,” he grinds out.

  I bite my bottom lip as I shove his jeans down to his knees, then I slowly peel down his boxer briefs.

  I flick my eyes down to look at his cock and see that it’s hard. Wrapping my hand around him, I gently stroke him a few times. The hand that’s gripping my hair moves my head down and forward until my lips are on the tip of his dick. I kiss him before I swipe my tongue along it.

  “Don’t fuck around, sweetness,” he grinds out. I look up through my lashes to see a vein jumping in his forehead.

  I don’t fuck around. I lick the underside of him from base to tip before I open my mouth and take him inside of me. Max’s eyes bore into mine and I know that he wants control, I can practically feel the need radiating from him.

  I wrap my hands around the sides of his bare thighs and I moan around him. He sighs as his hand grips my hair and he holds my head still. Then, he begins to gently thrust in and out of my mouth, fucking my throat.

  “When I come, it’s going to be down your throat, sweetness,” he grunts as he starts to thrust a little harder.

  “Fuck, Mary, your mouth feels like fucking heaven,” he says a few thrusts later.

  I watch him, my blood roaring throughout my own body, the need inside of me building, feeling as though I’m the most desirable woman on earth because I can make him so damn happy.

  “You ready?” he grinds out through clenched teeth. Then he sinks so far down my throat I fight to breathe as he fills me with his hot cum.

  “Fuck,” he roars, throwing his head back. It’s a gorgeous sight to witness.

  He pulls out of my mouth and then brings his pants back up and zips them, leaving the top button and his belt undone before he crouches down in front of me and looks at me. His fingers clean up some of the saliva from my face, and his eyes soften in an instant.

  “You like your man watching out for you?” he murmurs.

  “Bates has only ever watched out for me,” I say quietly. “Can you try not to kill everybody that maybe isn’t so nice to me, though?”

  “They physically hurt you, or even attempt to, then sorry—no-can-do, sweetness,” he chuckles. “I couldn’t let what he did to you go unpunished, Mary.”

  “I know,” I whisper.

  Max wraps his arms around me and pulls me off of the bed and into his arms, my face going to his neck and his face doing the same in mine. I hold onto him with all of my strength, still feeling so damn safe, it’s almost scary.

  Wrapped in his arms, after he’s admitted to killing a man, should make me feel terrified, but I’m not. In fact, I breathe a sigh of relief. Kyle is gone and Max is here with me, holding me and promising to take care of me.

  I’ve never been happier.

  Ever.

  The next morning, I anxiously wait for the Old Ladies to arrive. Only the men ended up coming last night to pick up the furniture, leaving us with just a bed to sleep in for the night. Max insisted that everything be removed from the house.

  It felt awkward.

  These were his things, but also things that he’s had for years and shared with his wife. I don’t want to be that woman, the woman who comes in and rearranges everything, erasing what he had for so long.

  Looking around while I wait, I feel nothing but guilt consuming me. The house is empty, save for pictures on the walls, and knickknacks that are now in boxes on the floor, shoved into corners. I feel like a shitty person.

  The only room that is still intact is Fury’s teenage bedroom. Max said that we could pack it up and take it to him when we make our next trip to Idaho, as if we’ll be together and it will all be sunshine and roses. But it wouldn’t feel right to pack up Fury’s things. I hope that maybe he and Kentlee will come to town, and he can clean it out himself.

  Then I think about making
a trip to Idaho, and that means seeing Bates. I know my brother. He’s going to flip his shit when he finds out I’m with Max. Even though I’m not technically his Old Lady, just the fact that we’re sleeping together will make my brother go insane.

  The doorbell rings and it makes me jump. I turn and walk to the front door, looking through the peephole to find four women, the Old Ladies Max sent over to help me, I assume. I open the door with a big, fake smile plastered on my face to see them scan me from top-to-toe and then back up.

  “She’s young,” a brunette says, turning to a blonde. I’d say the brunette is in her late forties, but the blonde is in her twenties, around my age, if I had to guess.

  “But gorgeous,” another blonde says with a smile. “I’m Bobbie, Roach’s Old Lady,” she grins, holding her hand out to shake mine.

  “I’m Mary-Anne,” I say as I shake hers. Then I step aside to let them in.

  “MadDog did not fuck around. I’m Texas’ Old Lady, Colleen, by the way,” the brunette mutters, walking past me.

  “Genny, I belong to Soar,” the other blonde announces as she breezes past me and into the once flowery decorated living room.

  I blink, unsure of how she, who seems so very no-nonsense, is attached to Soar, the man who claims to be high all of the time.

  I look to an extremely petite redheaded girl, who hasn’t said a word, and she smiles before she whispers her name is Teeny and that she belongs to, Mammoth.

  “We have some serious work to do. Luckily, MadDog left cash, and plenty of it. So how about we inventory the kitchen and then head out?” Colleen asks. I can tell she’s the ring leader of the bunch.

  “I think I might just ask the guys to bring everything back. This is too much,” I murmur.

  “Why would you do that? This is your home, right?” Genny asks, her brows knit together in confusion.