“I need to talk to you,” she says, grinding her teeth together.
I nod my chin in the direction of my office. She may want to talk to me, but I’m gonna end up fucking her. No way can I not get inside of that cunt with her locked in my office with me. I grin as I watch her go.
Kentlee takes the initiative and I follow after her fat ass as she sways it toward the door. I ignore the men’s cat calls and odd glances. Kentlee is nothing like the women in this place, not even any of the Old Ladies can hold a candle to her.
A classy bitch, that’s what she is—even in her tattered jeans and oversized shirt. She’s too good for this place. If I get my way, and I always do, she’ll be waiting for my cock to come to her daily. Never seeing the inside of this shithole again.
Kentlee
Fury is well… infuriating.
I shiver in disgust, imagining Katie Powell’s lips on his cock.
God, he’s a pig, and she’s still the same slut she was in high school.
Once I step into his dingy, messy office, I turn around to face him. He is standing in front of the door, legs spread and arms crossed over his massive chest, his gray eyes focused on me intently.
“What do you want, Kentlee? Coming down here at night, after weeks of silence?” he barks harshly.
I jump slightly, not expecting his booming voice.
“Well… you know how…” I begin, not knowing how to say it without blurting it out.
“Speak,” he growls, sounding like a damned lion. I narrow my eyes on him.
“I’m pregnant, you asshole,” I cry out before I cover my mouth in surprise.
I hadn’t planned on just yelling it like that. I wanted to ease him into it.
My eyes clash with his and the look on his face can only be described as — pure shock.
“Knocked up?”
I nod, unable to really say anything else. I am afraid to talk. If I speak the words again, they will indeed be true, and I am not one hundred percent convinced of them quite yet. I watch in awe as his eyes soften and he takes several long strides to stand right in front of me, only an inch separating our bodies.
“You gonna have my baby, babe?” he mutters as his hand wraps around the side of my neck, effectively making me weak in the knees like the idiot girl I obviously am.
“Yeah,” I sigh before I push him off of me. That asshole had Kitty on her knees for him just five minutes ago.
“The fuck?” he asks, reminding of that night so many weeks ago.
“Katie Powell was just about to service your cock when I walked in. No way am I letting you anywhere near me.”
“You think I give the first fuck about that whore?” he asks, stepping into my face and wrapping his hand around the back of my neck.
I shiver at the reminder of how his hand felt wrapped in the same place as he held me down and fucked my body into oblivion. I try to wrench myself from his hold, afraid to be so close to him, afraid that I’ll crumble and accept him back into my body.
“I think she’s a whore and you only care about getting off,” I admit, turning my head away from his.
Fury’s finger and thumb catch my chin and he guides my head back to look at me in the eyes. I gasp when he leans down and gently brushes his lips against my own before he rests his forehead against mine.
“Cut the shit, Kentlee. It’s you I been thinkin’ about for weeks. Now you’re here and I ain’t lettin’ you out of my fuckin’ sight,” he growls before he presses his lips firmly against my own in a bruising kiss. “Gonna have to fuck my baby mama now,” he growls.
I feel his big hand wrap around my ass and squeeze so hard I moan, throwing my head back as I press my breasts against his chest.
I throw up my hands to stop him, to ask him about his sudden change; but then his lips touch my neck, just below my ear, and I surrender to him — my willpower shattered.
“Fury,” I moan when his tongue slashes out and licks my skin. It’s warm, soft, and so fucking perfect, I actually purr.
“So sweet,” he murmurs against my skin as his hands move around to unbutton, unzip, and push my jeans down my hips.
In a flash, his knees are on the ground and his palm wraps around my flat stomach. I watch in fascination as he takes me in, his eyes staring at the part of me that carries a piece of him deep inside. Slowly, his head lifts and his gray eyes focus on mine.
“Never wanted any fuckin’ kids. Not ‘til you walked in through that door and dropped the bomb that you’re carryin’ mine. Never thought someone sweet and good as you would carry my kid, either. Gonna try and do right by you, babe,” he mutters, his eyes shining so brightly that I wonder if this is a dream or if he really means it.
“What about the other night? Everything you said? You don’t even know me,” I question. He stands up, pulling my shirt over my head as he does, leaving me in just my bra and panties.
“I was a fuckin’ asshole. I know enough. I know you ain’t a whore; you’d go to a club you didn’t want to be at, wearing somethin’ you didn’t want to wear, just to make your sister happy. I know you have a sweet ride, and you work hard for it. I know you ain’t cracked out, and you wanted me, so you took me the only way I offered it. When I was a fuckin’ ass to you, you still came into this clubhouse – which scared the shit outta you — to tell me that I was gonna be a daddy. Know that your pussy’s the sweetest I ever had. The rest I’ll learn,” he says, his breath hot and heavy.
My chest heaves with a confusing mixture of want, desire, fear, and need. I place my hands on his shoulders and jump into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. I kiss him, hard and on his lips, pushing my tongue deep into his mouth.
“Fuck,” he hisses, breaking away from my kiss before his hands wrap in the sides of my panties. He rips them into shreds, throwing them on the floor.
My ass collides with his hard desk a second later, and I suck in a breath when he moves his hands to his belt and jeans, pushing them down his legs. I groan the second I feel his hard length plunge inside, stretching me. It’s been a month since he was inside of me and it hurts — so fucking good — to have him back.
“Fury,” I moan when he is seated fully inside of me.
“Pierce. You fuckin’ call me Pierce when my cock’s inside of you,” he growls.
I shiver at his tone and then I shiver for a completely different reason as he slowly slides out of me before slamming back inside.
“Pierce,” I cry out.
He grunts as his hand slowly slides up my back, unhooking my bra before he yanks it off of my body and flings it across the room. His hand then continues on its path, up and into the back of my hair, fisting it roughly. I cry out when he pulls my neck back. But not in pain. I like his roughness, the way he holds onto me like he needs me close to him.
“Sweetest pussy I ever had. Fuck me,” he murmurs.
Fury’s hand wraps around my thigh and his fingers dig into my flesh as his lips wrap around my nipple and his teeth bite down.
I arch my back, pressing my chest closer, wanting more of his wicked torture.
Sweat beads on my skin as he continues to thrust deeply inside of me, continuously slamming his body, with mine. I can feel myself climbing toward my climax, and my nails dig into his tattooed biceps as I cry out in pleasure.
My body pulses around him, waiting for something to tip me over the edge. I need something, I need more.
“Come on my cock, sugar,” he whispers against my sweat soaked breast as his thumb presses against my clit.
I do just that—I come around his cock. I cry out his name as I climax hard, my pussy pulsing, my body bowed and frozen in pure bliss. Pierce doesn’t stop. He thrusts inside of me a few more times before he stills and roars — his release flooding my body.
I start to go completely limp, but he catches me, gathering me in his arms, his semi-hard cock still inside of me. He carries me to the beat up couch, sinking down as I collapse on his chest, burying my face in his neck. Pierce’s han
d gently strokes my back and I find the move odd, comforting, and perfect all at the same time.
“You okay, baby girl?” he murmurs against my forehead before pressing his lips to my skin.
“I didn’t plan on sleeping with you,” I sigh, kissing his sweat soaked neck.
I feel his body move and shake before his laugh reaches my ears.
“Never planned on fucking you again, no matter how badly I wanted that sweet cunt. Thought I fucked up,” he grumbles. I sit up and narrow my eyes on him.
“You did fuck up,” I confirm. He smiles widely, the look so beautiful on his bearded face that my breath stops at the sight.
“Did something right. Put my baby inside you, made you come back to me. Pride saved, and I got the girl.”
I open my mouth to say something but I can’t. He’s right, the bastard. Just when I am about to say something else, his office door slams wide open. I scream and plaster my chest to his, in a lame attempt to hide my naked body, well aware my ass is in clear view of whoever opened the door.
“Fuck me,” I hear a familiar voice, Johnny Williams, say from the doorway.
“What the fuck man?” Fury yells his hands wrapping around my ass.
“Fuck, Prez. Sorry as shit man, but we got trouble,” Johnny says. I can hear the smile in his fucking voice, before he leaves, closing the door behind him.
“Give me a minute, yeah, sugar? Stay in here I’ll be right back. Lock the door and don’t open it for anybody but me,” he murmurs, his eyes focused on mine and his face serious—too serious.
I nod and cringe when he turns me around, placing me on the couch before reaching down to snag my shirt; he then slides it over my chest.
“Get dressed soon as I leave, baby,” he murmurs.
I have no clue what’s going on, but it’s critical, I can tell that much just by the change in demeanor. He has shifted from Pierce to Fury in just the span of seconds, and it’s painfully obvious that Fury. Is. Pissed.
As soon as he walks out of the door, I rush over and flip the deadbolt. Then, I run and quickly dress in my jeans and t-shirt. My leg bounces as I sit on the sofa… waiting… for what, I have no damn clue, and it’s killing me.
Fury
Fuck. Fuckin’. Fuck.
Fuck.
The second Dirty Johnny walked into my office— after initially wanting to beat his ass— I knew something bad was up. His nervous pacing in front of the door solidifies my suspicions.
“Who’s here?” I bark, making him jump.
“Sorry, Prez, Bastards sent a message. Thought you’d want to see it,” he mumbles, lighting a cigarette.
The smell wafts over to me, making me want the stupid stick. I’ve been trying to put that habit behind me. As I follow him outside behind the clubhouse, I groan when I see exactly what the Bastards’ message entails.
Red, an Old Lady, beaten and naked, left dead on the back of our property. Buck is gonna lose his shit—not that he really cared much about the bitch. She was a crackhead, turned tricks on the corner; but at one time, she had been in the fold.
Buck kept her, clothed her, and gave her a roof over her head because she gave him two kids, but they weren’t together—not really. The Bastards had no way of knowing what their relationship status was; they are going after women for the sake of going after our women. Trying to run us out because they want the full reign on the entire town. Fuck them.
“Get her the fuck outta here before Buck sees her. I’ll talk to him. Get the bulk of the whores and hang-arounds outta here. Party’s over. Get all the kids and old ladies here—fuckin’ lockdown starts immediately.”
I nod to Dirty Johnny, lifting my chin so he’ll get started ASAP on the orders I gave. I watch as a few prospects are given the duty of getting rid of Red’s body, and then I slowly make my way inside to talk to Buck.
I walk to the bar where Buck is perched with Kitty on his arm. He’s licking her neck and I can’t help but be glad I didn’t touch any part of her whore ass. I nod to her and she gives me narrowed, pissed off eyes before she scoots her ass away. Buck turns around and his eyes narrow for a second before his face pales, knowing something ain’t right.
“Its Red, brother.”
His eyes go wide and then he nods. “Knew her drugs and whoring would catch up with her. Give it to me,” he urges. I shake my head.
“It wasn’t either, brother. It was the Bastards.”
“Fuckin’ shit,” he roars. I can’t help but feel the same way.
“A message. We’re on lockdown for the time being. We’re gonna find these fuckers, don’t you worry about that. Retribution,” I offer, slapping my hand on his shoulder.
Buck’s shoulders drop and he rubs the back of his neck before speaking.
“She was a sweet kid when we met. I fucked with her, fucked her over a million times, then she got hooked on the shit and never could get off. Loved that bitch, deep down; loved the way she was when we met,” he mumbles. I watch as wet shines in his eyes.
“Vengeance. Don’t doubt it,” I murmur. He nods before taking a shot of whiskey.
I sit down next to my brother, a man who just lost his Old Lady. She has been gone for years, but she’s gone now – forever.
I flick my fingers to the prospect behind the bar and wait until he brings me a bottle of jack and a shot glass. Tonight, I help my brother mourn. Tomorrow, I put some Bastards into the ground.
Kentlee
I look down at my phone. One in the morning. Unfuckingbelievable. He’s left me locked in his office for almost three hours. Fuck this. I’m outta here. I reach for the handle of the door, but then remember the panic on his face—the worry, the seriousness.
I release the handle and step back over to the gross sofa, falling down on the cushions. I open up my Facebook app and contemplate announcing my pregnancy. Nothing would embarrass my mother more, I think to myself with a chuckle before I close the app.
I’m exhausted, and hungry, and pissed off.
I stand up from the sofa and walk over to the door, my hand lingering over the handle. I should just leave. My car is here. I can sneak out undetected. I close my eyes for a moment and remember Fury’s face before he left. Maybe I don’t want to know what lies outside of this little office. I take my ass back to the dirty sofa, yet again, and I lie down.
I need sleep.
“Shit,” a voice hisses. I open my eyes to the pitch black room, a large shadow hovering over me.
“Pierce?” I ask drowsily.
“Baby girl. I forgot you were still in here. Fuck,” he murmurs before I feel his large arms slide under my body.
I don’t even want to think about the fact that he forgot about me and how that makes me feel, so I ignore it.
“Is it late?” I mumble, the words sounding slurred even in my own head. I am so tired. I just want to sleep longer.
“No, baby, it’s early. Let’s get you to a bed,” he grinds out as his big body moves with me wrapped in his arms.
Safe.
I feel safe.
Warm.
Content.
I close my eyes, leaning against his chest, letting him take care of me as he carries me wherever he wants. I don’t trust him; I don’t know that I ever will, but I’m willing to try. I’m willing to give my body over to him, surrendering to my desire to have him. I want him that bad. I want whatever piece of himself he’s willing to give me right now. I feel so fucking pathetic about that, too.
“Let’s get you undressed,” he grumbles as he lies me down on a bed.
It isn’t as comfy as mine at home, but it’s a step up from the gross couch I was sleeping on. I moan when I feel my pants being pulled down my legs. I reach under my shirt and unhook my bra, taking it off through one of the oversized sleeves before flinging it across the room.
“Damn, don’t know why that shit was as hot as it was. But fuck,” Pierce mutters as I slide beneath the sheets.
“You’re a pig,” I grumble unable to open my eyes,
I’m that exhausted.
“Well, yeah,” he admits as I hear him move around the room. He’s making so much noise I can’t fall back asleep.
“Come to bed, Pierce,” I order hazily.
“Yeah, sugar. No place else I’d rather be right now,” I hear him say, his voice fading as sleep takes over again.
Before I completely pass out, I feel his large, warm body behind mine. His hand slides up my thigh, over my hip, and then around my breast.
Heaven.
There is something warm sliding over my breast, down my stomach and then back up. The slight tug on my nipple has my eyes popping open, and I stiffen when I look around and realize that I am not in my room. It takes me a moment to register exactly where I am and exactly what happened last night.
Fury. Sex. The baby.
It comes back to me in pieces, but it all comes back, and then I take in my surroundings. The room is bare with only the bed, a dresser, and a crate for a nightstand. It’s neat, tidy, and a total contradiction to the man behind me. The rough and rowdy man who goes by the name of Fury.
“Mornin’,” he whispers against the side of my neck as his fingers dip between my thighs.
I whimper when they swirl around my clit. Fuck, the man knows just how to turn me on.
“Fury,” I warn. He slides his finger inside of me and I throw my head back with a moan instead of telling him to stop.
“Love the sounds you make. So fuckin’ sweet,” he murmurs before his thumb presses against my clit, his finger working in and out of me.
“We should talk about everything,” I grumble. He just chuckles behind me.
“I fuck you nice and sweet, then I’ll tell you how we’re going to play this,” he cajoles.
“Fury,” I warn.
“Any part of me is inside of you, babe, you call me Pierce,” he orders.
I whimper again—not in pain or fear, but in lust.
God – just his voice could send me over the edge. Hard and unrelenting, just like he is.
“Yes, Pierce,” I whisper.
Rough & Rowdy (Notorious Devils #1) Page 5
