Rough & Ruthless (Notorious Devils Book 4)

by Hayley Faiman

  “He’ll calm down,” he murmurs.

  “Yeah. My guess is that he’ll calm down just around the time he finds out about us, and then he’ll be ramped right back up,” I say with a snort.

  Max spins me in his arms and I look up at him in surprise. He’s dusty and dirty, sweaty, and sexy all at the same time. His blue eyes are extremely focused, and there’s not a hint of any emotion in his expression.

  I hate when he’s like this. I like to know his feelings of happiness, anger, or whatever else is going on in his head.

  “You don’t worry about your brother when it comes to us,” he says, his voice low and serious.

  “Why not? He’s my brother. I think he should know, eventually.”

  “He’s your brother by blood, but he’s a Devil, which means I’ll tell him. I’ll decide when and where to do that,” Max announces.

  He does it in such a way that I know that he’s not to be defied in anyway whatsoever.

  I decide this is one of those instances where I’ll have to choose my battles. I’ll choose not to say anything, and then Max totally switches directions when he grins down at me.

  “Fuckin’ slipped my mind, darlin’. Got your computer at the clubhouse.”

  “Seriously?” I breathe, knowing I’m so far behind, it’ll be a miracle if I ever catch up.

  “Yeah. With everything going on, I totally forgot. I had West go and get it for you. Then by the time he came back, you were passed out. Then we moved in here and, well, you know,” he shrugs.

  “Oh, my god! Thank you so much,” I shriek before I jump up, wrapping my arms around his neck and lifting my legs to wrap around his waist. I feel his chest shake with laughter as he brings his hands to my ass to hold me up.

  “You wanna get down to the clubhouse and get some work done instead of standing around, looking gorgeous and bored?” he asks on a chuckle.

  “Yes, yes, yes, yes,” I whisper, peppering his face with kisses.

  “Fuckin’ hell,” he rumbles before he squeezes my ass. “Let me tell the guys where I’m takin’ you.”

  I disengage myself from his body, even though it’s the last thing I want to do, and watch as he walks inside to tell the men that we’re leaving.

  I really don’t want to be down at the clubhouse working, but he has wifi there, and there’s nowhere for me to sit here. So, back to the clubhouse I go. I just hope that the whores are tucked away for the day in their dungeon, and I don’t have to see them at all.

  A few minutes later, I find myself on the back of Max’s bike. Shortly after, he’s guiding me toward his office at the clubhouse. I’m glad to see that, during the day, the whores aren’t out to play, and they are indeed, tucked away somewhere.

  I listen to the rumble of his voice as Max gives me his wifi username and password, and then he tells me to text him when I’m ready to be picked up. Before he leaves, he bends down and brushes his lips against mine, reminding me to lock his office door behind him.

  Once I’m all locked inside, I decide to get down to work. I have at least thirty mockup designs that need to be done, and I have some changes to previous mockups in my folders just waiting for my attention. They’re mostly wedding invitations, a few save-the-date cards, and a couple of birthday invitations.

  Hopefully, I’ll be able to get at least halfway finished today and then complete my tasks tomorrow. As long as I sit here and solely work, I think that I can get quite a bit completed.

  After about two hours of solid work, I have to use the restroom. I really wish that Max had one in his office, but he doesn’t, which means I’ll have to venture out into the clubhouse to find the nearest one.

  Unfortunately, that nearest one is the same bathroom that the whores use. I know that Max keeps his bedroom here locked, so I’m pretty much screwed, unless I use the men’s restroom, and that will never happen. These guys are totally disgusting. I would hate to see what it’s like in there.

  When I walk inside, I’m thankful that I’m alone. That is, until I’m finishing up. I hear the door open and close, then I hear who I know is that crazy blonde bitch from the other night; the girl who stared daggers at me; the girl who said she went down on Max just a few days ago.

  “I’m telling you, we need to get these men to commit, to take care of us. They’re using us, and soon we won’t be shiny and new. They’ll throw us out on our asses,” she says. The other girls hum their approval.

  “You know how much family means to MadDog. I say we get pregnant by them. Each of us picks a guy we want and poke holes in condoms or something,” she suggests. It takes everything inside of me not to gasp in surprise.

  “Do you know what happened the last time a girl tried to claim a pregnancy?” one of the other girls asks, her voice a bit shaky.

  “Yeah, I never saw her again,” another girl says.

  “Who gives a fuck? This won’t be fake. It’ll be real, and they won’t kill a pregnant woman. Just keep fucking your guy until you get pregnant for sure. Be seen fucking him, too,” the blonde ringleader practically growls.

  “I don’t know,” one of the girls says.

  “Look, I don’t know about you bitches, but I’m tired of being treated like shit. They fuck me, then they go home to their wives, Old Ladies, or whatever. But they don’t give us any money, and they expect us to keep spreading our legs for them and whoever happens to stop by. Well, I’m sick of it,” she announces.

  “They feed us, give us a place to live, and money for clothes,” one girl points out.

  “It’s not enough. We deserve more, and we deserve respect. The only way we’re going to get that is by having their fucking kids,” she practically screams.

  I don’t hear anything else as they leave the room, but I stand in the bathroom stall in complete shock. I don’t know what to do. I know that I need to tell Max, but I have to do it when we’re alone.

  I’m not so convinced that the other girls are buying this blonde’s brand of crazy, and I don’t want them to get in trouble if they don’t actually follow through with her plan.

  “Shit,” I hiss. “Fuck. Shit.”

  This drama, this bullshit, this is just another reason I don’t care for clublife, or why I didn’t hang around the club when I lived in Idaho.

  These bitches are crazy.

  By the time the guys and I are finished with the flooring, it’s late and I’m fuckin’ beat. Tomorrow, we paint, and I’m wondering if tackling this shit all at once was really the smartest thing for me to take on. Maybe I should have just hired it all out.

  At least I don’t have to worry about putting the countertops in myself. I did hire that part. I can do a lot of shit, but I don’t even want to attempt to cut granite.

  “You wanna grab a beer at the club?” Grease asks.

  “Nah, man. I’m gonna go there, grab Mary, and head home. I’m fuckin’ beat,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Fuck, me too. Ain’t as young as I used to be,” he chuckles.

  “No shit, brother.”

  “How you keepin’ up with that young thing for as long as you are?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “Fuck if I know, just am,” I shrug as I head toward my bike.

  “What’s the deal with her, anyway? She gonna be your Old Lady?”

  “Fuck if I know,” I grunt before I start my motorcycle’s engine, cutting off the conversation.

  It’s none of his fuckin’ business. Mary is my business, and mine alone. Our relationship doesn’t fuckin’ matter to anybody but us. I’ll put a label on it when there needs to be one, but a couple weeks into it, there doesn’t need to be shit said about us.

  She’s off-limits to my brothers, she lives in my house, she sleeps in my bed, and she takes my cock. That’s all that needs to be known right now.

  I ride to the clubhouse not thinking of anything other than Mary. It’s late as fuck, and I’m sure she’s starving; though, maybe not. She doesn’t eat much in general, which I’m sure is why she’s so
lean.

  Though her body is fuckin’ killer, a few cheeseburgers wouldn’t hurt her at all, especially her ass. It would be nice if there were a bit more for me to slap when she’s bent over in front of me.

  I see that the evening is in full swing as I make my way through the bar. The whores are already naked and taking dick like the pros they are. I shake my head with a grin as I make my way toward my office. I use my key to unlock the door, and see Mary with her brow furrowed as she stares at her computer screen in concentration.

  “I’m almost finished,” she mutters as I watch her fingers work on the keyboard.

  I close the door, locking it behind me before I make my way over to my sofa and collapse down on it in a pile. I need some food, a beer, and bed. I think I’m actually too fuckin’ tired to have sex tonight, which makes me feel about a hundred years old.

  “Take your time, sweetness,” I mutter, lying my head back to relax for a minute.

  I must fall asleep, because the next thing I know, I jerk awake to the feeling of something warm and wet sliding over my cock. I look down and into the sparkling eyes of Mary-Anne. She’s got her mouth wrapped around my dick, and she’s working me with it, along with her hand, which is wrapped around the base. I lift my hips slightly as one of my hands flies to the side of her head, fisting her hair with my hand.

  “Goddamn,” I curse.

  She sucks me harder and faster, my cock on the verge of exploding down her throat. My fingers tense in her hair as a warning, but that only spurs her on.

  A second later, I can’t hold back my groan as I come down her warm, hot throat. She continues to suck me until I go soft in her mouth, then she lays her head on the knee of my dirty ass jeans. She sighs as her eyes continue to stay glued to mine.

  “Didn’t have to do that,” I grunt as I run my fingers through her hair.

  “You sent someone to get my computer, and you let me work all day long. I’m almost completely caught up now, and you’re doing so much to your house. I just wanted to show a little token of my appreciation, baby,” she murmurs, sounding tired.

  There’s that word again, baby. Fuck me, but I goddamn love it every single time she says it.

  “You hungry?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

  I don’t have the energy for it to be anything else right now. She sucked the last bit I had out of me.

  “Yeah, I could use some real food,” she grins. I can’t help but chuckle at her meaning.

  “You can leave your shit here, I’ll lock up,” I mutter as I stand and tuck myself back in my pants.

  I offer her my hand, which she takes as she stands, and then she wraps her arms around my neck and presses her lips to mine. I don’t let her get away with some closed mouth kiss. I swipe my tongue along her lips before slipping it inside her mouth to taste her. She tastes like sweet, syrupy coke and mint.

  “You been drinkin’ cokes all day, sweetness?” I ask once I break the kiss.

  “Soda and some gum I found in your drawer. I had to stay awake somehow,” she grins.

  “Let’s get you fed,” I laugh.

  We walk out of the clubhouse, ignoring the partygoers. My only focus is on getting Mary some food, and getting both of us some sleep. I tuck her into my side as we approach my bike, and she sighs as she rests her head against my shoulder. Pressing my lips to the top of her head, I inhale her scent and I sigh, too.

  Fuck, she makes me happy. Just this silent moment makes me smile like I’ve never smiled before. I feel like a complete, fucking pussy—I feel like my fuckin’ son, is what I feel like. I smile, knowing he’d give me shit about it, too, and I actually don’t even fucking care.

  “What do you want to eat?” I ask as we climb onto my bike.

  “I could really go for some fried chicken. Do not ask me why,” she says as she straps on her helmet.

  “Sweetness wants fried chicken, that’s what she gets,” I chuckle.

  There aren’t many fast food options in our small town, but there’s a KFC, so that’s where I take her. We roll through the downtown area, which is actually pretty busy tonight, and I see Carlotta’s. It’s some dessert bar that I’ve had no interest in, but I take note to bring Mary there one night.

  It looks like something she’d enjoy.

  I shake my head as, obviously, my vagina is growing since I’m thinking of fuckin’ date nights to take her on.

  Once we get the chicken, I have Mary hold it while we make our way home. My yellow house comes into view, and I decide immediately that it needs to be painted. I can’t handle the yellow anymore.

  Tomorrow, I’ll change the color to something else. At this point, it could be purple for all I care, I just know that it needs to be different. From the outside in, it needs to be fresh. It needs to be—ours.

  “I forgot how tiring sitting behind a computer all day could be,” she mutters as she takes her helmet off and follows behind me up the walkway toward the porch.

  “Try working on flooring all day,” I grunt, sounding grumpy as fuck.

  “Oh, my god,” she whispers after I flip the living room lights on.

  “What?” I ask, looking around in mild panic.

  “It’s so beautiful.”

  “It’s what you picked, sweetness,” I mutter as I close the door behind her and lock it.

  “I know, but it’s better than I imagined. I can’t wait to see the bedroom,” she practically squeals before she dashes up the stairs.

  I can’t help the laugh that booms through the empty house. Holy shit, if I could find something to make her that excited, that happy, every day of my life, I’d do it in a heartbeat—cost be damned.

  I think about the smile on her face and the way her eyes lit up with excitement before she literally ran up the stairs. She’s so fuckin’ beautiful.

  “Oh, Max,” she whispers as soon as I enter the room.

  Luckily, the flooring we used is something that clicks into place, so our bed is in the center of the room, and we don’t have to sleep in Pierce’s old room. I don’t want to imagine what he did as a teenager in there.

  “You like it?” I ask as I slide my hand around the front of her waist, resting in on her belly.

  “I love it,” she whispers.

  “Let’s eat, sweetness,” I murmur pressing my lips against her neck.

  We eat in bed, greasy assed fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and biscuits. It’s a fucking terrible meal, and I have a feeling it will settle in my stomach like lead weight, but I’d do it every single night if that’s what Mary wanted. She’s sitting cross legged, chattering about the house, about how she can’t wait to go furniture shopping so that we can eat at a real table; but then a second later, she frowns and says we can still eat in bed because she likes being cuddled up next to me while we eat shit food. I smile at her rambling.

  It solidifies the fact that she’s young, but I could give a fuck. Her chattering makes me grin. Sex aside, her personality in general keeps me drawn to her.

  I could fuck anybody, but there’s only one person I want to eat fried chicken in bed with, and that’s Mary-Anne.

  I chickened out. Totally and completely chickened out. I should have told Max about those whores as soon as he walked into his office yesterday. He looked exhausted, though; sexy as hell, but exhausted.

  Once we arrived back at the house, I could see why.

  Every single floor that I suggested be redone had been. Fury’s room hadn’t been touched, but Max promised once it was cleared out we could fix it up, which I was fine with. I have no desire to move around Fury’s things.

  Now I’m back at the clubhouse, working all day in Max’s office while he and the rest of the brothers paint the house and let the countertop guys in, plus wait for the appliances to be delivered. I’m feeling nauseous and guilty over not telling him last night.

  What if they’ve already started trying to get pregnant by the members?

  I have to tell him when I see him tonight. There’s no way I could live with
myself if one of the men were trapped by these women. I hope that they’re smart enough not to even try it. That blonde bitch needs to go.

  I work for the better part of the morning and into the early afternoon, only stopping when there is a loud knock on the office door. Then I hear Colleen’s unmistakable voice shouting at me to open up. I power down my laptop, knowing there’s no way I’ll be working anymore today.

  I’m actually completely caught up for the moment, and it feels fantastic. Then I walk over to the door and unlock it before I open it widely with a smile playing on my lips.

  “Hello, ladies,” I greet. They all greet me with their own hellos, except for Teeny, who just gives me a shy, silent wave. “How may I help you today?” I ask with a grin.

  “We’re going furniture shopping. MadDog demanded it when we were dropping off lunch to the guys a few minutes ago,” Genny says.

  “He didn’t demand it, he just said it in a way where there was no other option,” Genny mutters.

  “You girls don’t have to go with me. I’m sorry he did that,” I say.

  I apologize for him—something I probably shouldn’t start doing. I have a feeling I’ll end up doing it all day, every day, if I start now.

  “Oh, no, we want to. I’m excited,” Colleen announces. “Genny’s just being a bitch because Soar didn’t come home last night,” she grumbles.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Genny grinds out.

  “If you gave him some pussy more than once every three months, he might come home more often,” Colleen snaps.

  My eyes widen in surprise and I look around, wondering if I’m going to have to break up a girl fight right here in Max’s office.

  “He’s gotta earn this snatch, and he doesn’t earn shit when he’s not home,” she says haughtily. I wonder how her logic works, because to me, she makes zero sense.

  “Guess what, princess, he doesn’t have to earn snatch here. It’s free all day and all night. So why in the fuck would he work for yours when he can get it with zero effort down here?” Colleen asks. I have to agree with her, minus the word snatch. I really don’t care for that word.