Permission: The Perversion Trilogy, Book Three

by Frazier, T. M.

  “Da,” I groan.

  Much to my surprise Grim doesn’t get angry, instead he smiles and claps his hand on Callum’s shoulder. “I’d expect nothing else, sir.”

  “Good, now, where’s my grand baby?” he asks, releasing Grim’s hand.

  I point to Marci who’s bouncing Rosey on her knee. Ma is beside them, making faces at our little girl who giggles and reaches out her little hand, tugging on Ma’s nose.

  Callum makes a beeline for the group and joins them in fawning over Rosey who eats up the attention.

  “She is going to be so spoiled,” Grim says with a chuckle.

  “More importantly, she is going to be so loved,” I reply.

  “Her childhood will be so different from ours.” Grim says.

  “Thank fucking god for that,” I say. “Although, if it wasn’t for our shitty childhoods, I might never have met you.”

  Grim scrunches his nose and wraps his arms around me. “Not true. I would have found my way to you eventually. I’ll always find my way to you.” He brushes his lips over mine sending a shiver up my spine.

  He pulls away tugs me from the crowd. We walk past the reception area where a band is set up in the corner. Picnic benches sit under a series of banyan trees, complete with strings of twinkle lights floating between. In the center of the tables are small bouquets of black, pink, and white roses in mason jar vases.

  Once we’re concealed to the crowd behind a thick trunk of one of the trees, Grim cups my chin. “Hello, wife,” he says with a sheepish grin. He presses his lips to mine, then brushes them along my jaw. “I’ve been waiting to say that to you for so long now.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “You mean the past thirty seconds?”

  His dark eyes are gleaming with wickedness. “No, since the first time we were married.”

  “You knew!” I say, playfully pushing at his chest.

  Grim holds my wrists against him, pulling me closer. “I knew. When the chief wanted to do the ritual, I…”

  “You’re the one who told him which ritual…”

  “I did. You were mine. Since that very first day you conned me into taking your pussy…cat.” He releases one of my wrists and snakes his hand around to the back of my neck, kneading his fingers seductively into my flesh. “It was only fair. A trick for a trick.”

  “You mean a trick for a Tricks,” I correct him, leaning into his touch.

  “Exactly. Although you aren’t just Tricks now. You’re Imogen Parish Egan Paine.” He chuckles. “Is that what you’ve decided? Did I get it all right?”

  I nod and trail my hand along the stubble of his jaw. My thumb over his full bottom lip, which he kisses. “It’s who I am. I’m not just one thing. One name. I’m all of them.” I smile. “Besides, Queen of England was taken.”

  “You’re my queen.” He kisses my lips, and I open my mouth to him. “You’re my everything,” he mumbles against my mouth. “Mine. Now and forever.”

  “I’m yours, body and soul,” I whisper.

  “I love you, Imogen Parish Egan Paine. I’m your possession as much as you are mine. I belong to you. My love. My life. My honor. My loyalty. For always.”

  Someone coughs behind us.

  Grim doesn’t release me. He keeps me in his arms, turning us both to face Sandy. “What?” he snaps, but he can’t help the smile on his face.

  “Uh, there’s like a hundred people here that are waiting for the bride and groom to make an appearance. As entertaining as I am, it’s not me they’re here for.”

  Grim mumbles under his breath. He drapes his arm around me as we head toward the picnic tables under the stars and twinkling lights.

  I spot Haze and Gabby dancing together. He releases her as the song ends, and giggling at something he says as the two of them step off the makeshift dance floor. Sandy makes a b-line toward her, tugging her to the back of the crowd where he lowers his head to hers, whispering something in her ear. Gabby takes a step back, her face heated with rage. She juts out a hip and points a finger into his chest.

  “What the hell do you think is going on there?” I ask.

  “I’m not sure I want to know,” Grim replies. “I’m focused on something else entirely.” he looks me over from my head to my toes, heating me with his gaze as he pulls me onto the dance floor. His lips are at my ears. “Marci and your ma are going to watch Rosey, tonight. After everyone is good and drunk, I’m going to steal you away. I have plans for you tonight.” He pulls me into his chest, and I can feel the outline of his plans against my stomach. I gasp at the sensation. “All fucking night.”

  My face and body heat with anticipation. I smile up at him as the music begins to play. He pulls me closer and searches my eyes eagerly as we sway along to the soft melody. I swallow hard and nod, unable to find the words.

  Lacking is no longer a perversion of a town but is well on the way to becoming what a town should be. Not just a place, but a community. Just as we are now a family, a real one.

  I belong to Grim. Not because he took me. Or forced me. But because I belong to him in the same way he belongs to me.

  Being someone’s possession makes you nothing.

  Giving yourself to someone completely makes you everything.

  And that’s what we do. What we’ll always do. Give ourselves to one another completely.

  With love, passion, and permission.

  Epilogue

  Fourteen Months Later

  Imogen

  Callum and Aileen bought a three-story house in Lacking. Actually, they bought an entire block of homes they are remodeling and renovating into one massive compound, as well as the thirty acres of forest behind it that butt up the reservation. They are doting grandparents. Callum is still the head of Clan Egan but has plans to turn the operation over to Alby and retire within the next few years.

  They still travel to Ireland every few months, but when I tell Ma that I feel bad for taking them away from their home, she assures me that home is where her family is, and right now, her home is in Lacking.

  Even though I decided to live with Grim, Callum and Aileen's big house isn’t empty as Gabby happily lives with them. We’ve both received our GED’s and attend classes at the community college three days a week. Gabby takes a variety of classes, unsure of what she wants to do with her life. I’m enrolled in the creative writing program.

  Grim and I live in the remodeled Bedlam house. Marci has moved into Grim’s outside bedroom, but it’s no longer just a shed made into a room, but a full apartment for her, complete with large master bath and newly added kitchen and living area. Sandy and Haze still occupy the two bedrooms upstairs, while Grim and I have taken over the master bedroom downstairs and the other bedroom across the hall, which is now Rosey’s nursery.

  After spending so much time apart, we’re all together often. There are big family dinners at least once a week, either at my parent’s house or ours with all of us. Marci, Sandy, and Haze included. Sometimes, a few of Grim’s other brothers come by for the meal. Chief David and Margaret come by as much as they can. Things are going well for them. I know this because of the huge diamond Margaret has been sporting on a very important finger. And the googly eyes they make at each other when they think no one is looking.

  Aileen, Marci, and I have started a clean-up committee to help those residents who can’t afford to fix up their properties. We spend a lot of time with the men of Bedlam patching up bullet holes and painting over graffiti at various homes and businesses throughout Lacking. All of the gang signs in town have been removed, including Bedlam’s.

  Not because they aren’t proud of who they are. Their Bedlam Brotherhood pride reads loud and clear on the patches of their clothes and inked into their skin, but because their black bleeding rose shouldn’t instill terror in the residents.

  All that’s left of Bedlam’s graffiti are the massive murals, works of art representing those who’ve fallen or the way the people felt in this town while it was under attack.

  The
art in the town is not to be feared any longer. It’s to be appreciated.

  The blood stains have been cleaned up as best they could be. Only shadows of rusty red remain splattered on the sidewalks and streets.

  A ghostly reminder of what once was.

  Grim rules the Bedlam Brotherhood with an iron fist and a full heart. There is happiness at every corner, overshadowing the occasional dark reminders of the past.

  “Is this it?” Grim asks, eying the box on my lap, the one I’ve yet to open.

  “It is,” I answer, rubbing my palm over the taped seam.

  Grim takes his knife from his pant leg and cuts open the box on my lap. My mouth drops open as if he’s just cut the clothes from my body.

  “What?” he asks. “You may not know this, but staring at a box doesn’t open it.”

  “I’m just nervous.”

  “I’m not,” he says, crouching before me. “I’m excited. You haven’t let me read a single page. I don’t even know the fucking title.” He opens the cardboard flaps. “The suspense is killing me, Tricks.”

  I reach in and pull the packing from the box, setting it beside me on the couch. I glance down and am immediately filled with happiness and pride. I’ve worked so hard on this book. After long days of caring for Rosey and attending classes, I’d spend even longer nights filled with doubt and staring at a blank page on my laptop and blinking cursor, mocking my ability to put my story into words. But I did it. And here, in my hands, is the product of my that labor and love.

  I pick up the first book from the stack and hand it to Grim.

  He turns it over, revealing the simple black cover with a shadowed hood looming over the white title. The corner of his lip twitches. “Holy shit,” he says. “I knew you were writing a story based on your life story, but this...wow. You’re incredible. So fucking incredible.”

  “Do you like the title?” I ask.

  He nods as he runs his fingers over the raised letting. There’s pride in his voice as he reads it out loud.

  “Nothing’s Fair in Love and Gang War.”

  Epilogue Continued

  Grim

  I follow Tricks, lurking far enough behind so she won’t notice me but close enough I can see very well what she’s doing. And what she’s been doing both makes me want to laugh and wrap my hands around her throat. All the while, my chest swells with something that feels a lot like pride. While my cock swells with something else entirely.

  She started out by pickpocketing a man in a suit. She leaned over to pick something up, knowing full well he was going to look down her shirt. She’d swiped his phone and wallet out of his briefcase before the motherfucker had a chance to adjust the crotch of his pants.

  She then does something that surprises me. She circles the slot machines on the outside of the room, pretending to be interested in a penny slot machine for a while before making her way back to the same man who she’d just taken his wallet from. The man is now confused and searching frantically for his missing items.

  “Is this yours?” she says to him, playing up her southern accent and big smile. “I found it over by the slot machines and the photo on the ID looks a lot like you.”

  “Oh my god. Thank you. Thank you so much,” he says, wiping the beaded sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief from his pocket.

  “It’s no problem at all. It’s all in there,” she says when he opens it to inspect to see if his cash is missing. “I found it lodged under the machine, so I don’t think anyone else saw it but me.”

  “Can I buy you a drink? As a thank you,” the man says, standing up and tucking his wallet away.

  “No, thank you. I mean, I’d love to, but I’m just here applying for a much-needed job. Fingers crossed,” she says, lifting her shoulders to her jaw and crossing her fingers on both hands. “I got a couple of kids at home and a babysitter I can’t afford to pay more than the one hour. So, I gotta hurry.”

  She only makes it a couple of steps, but I see that by the third she’s already slowed her stride, just in time for the man to shout, “Miss. Wait. I’m so stupid. Here.” He takes out his wallet and hands her a few twenty-dollar bills. “Thank you again. I hope this will help pay for the babysitter.”

  She smiles, and she’s good. Better than I ever realized. “Awe. This is so sweet. Thank you so much. This won’t quite pay the sitter, but maybe, it will pay for a ride home so I won’t have to take the bus since I have to see Daddy at the hospital on the way home.”

  He digs back into his wallet and pulls out every bill in it. “Here, take it all. For the kids.”

  “What kids?” she asks cheerily, tucking the now folded bills into her bra and prancing away on the balls of her feet like a newborn deer out for a frolic. Now, she’s just fucking with him. I hold my hand over my mouth to suppress a laugh.

  The man is left scratching his head for several minutes before heading to the ATM to refill his now empty wallet.

  When I feel her presence behind me, I don’t turn around. “You’ve gotten better.”

  “You haven’t. I knew you were following me since I left the house.”

  “I was curious what you were up to,” I say turning around to where she’s standing so close I can smell her perfume. Every man instinct in me is shouting to shove her between two slot machines, hike up her skirt, and push inside her.

  “Well, we are in a casino, and by the looks of it, I’m up about…” She pulls the money from her bra and counts it before tucking it back in. “Three hundred and forty dollars.”

  “What are you going to do with all that money?” I ask, raising a brow.

  She raises her arms and wraps them around my neck. “Rosey’s piggy bank of course,” she says.

  “Chief David is going to be pissed,” I tell her.

  She doesn’t seem the least bit concerned. “Nah, he knows what I’m up to. I’ve been waving at him through the security cameras for weeks. Plus, he was over the moon happy when I gave him a signed copy of my book. He thinks because I mention him in it that he’s super famous now.”

  It’s true, the Chief even went so far as to make Tricks’s book available at the casino gift shop.

  “Speaking of Rosey, are you ready to go home, or do you have a few more tricks in you, tonight?” I ask.

  She wags her eyebrows suggestively. Her voice is smooth and seductive. “Oh, baby, I’m done here, but I’ve always got a few more tricks for you.”

  I groan at the implication, pick her up, haul her over my shoulder and carry her out of the casino. Slapping her ass as she laughs wildly.

  “Are we going home?” She laughs as I set her down over my bike.

  “Yes. Where I’m going to let you show me those tricks, and hopefully, it will end in you giving me another baby.”

  “Another?” she asks.

  I nod and press my lips to hers. “Yes, I want another, and it’s all your fault.”

  “My fault?” she asks, pushing against my chest.

  I hold her still. “Yours. You planted this love thing inside me and now it’s grown out of control. I need more people to give it to before I explode.”

  She gasps and looks over her shoulder, spying the Bedlam compound. “Why wait until we get home? I can show you my tricks right now.”

  I pick her up again and carry her toward the compound. When we reach the door, I slide her off my shoulder slowly so I can feel every inch of her gorgeous flesh against me. She unbuckles my jeans while I lift of her skirt. I feel between her legs. She’s so wet and ready. I lift her off her feet, toss her down onto the couch and cover her body with my own, filling her pussy with one hard thrust. She cries out as I fuck her hard. At the end of each thrust, when her eyes roll back into her head with pleasure I recite my Bedlam Oath, telling her how much I love her in the best way I know how. “My Life.” Thrust. “My Death.” Thrust. “My Honor.” Thrust. She cries out. I’m barely holding on. “My Loyalty.” Thrust. “For you.” Thrust. “For us.” Thrust. She comes violently, squeezing my
cock mercilessly. I push into her one last time. My balls seize and pleasure rips down my spine as I empty my cock inside her tight pussy.

  We collapse together, breathing hard. She turns and smiles up at me, and my heart seizes, shaking my body more violently than the orgasm. She brushes her lips against mine and finishes the oath.

  “For always.”

  THE END

  A Preview of King

  King

  On the day I was released from prison I found myself tattooing a pussy on a pussy. The animal onto the female part.

  A cat on a cunt.

  Fucking ridiculous.

  The walls of my makeshift tattoo shop pulsed with the heavy beat of the music coming from my homecoming party raging on the floor below. It shook the door as if someone were rhythmically trying to beat it down. Spray paint and posters covered the walls from floor to ceiling, casting a layer of false light over everything within.

  The little dark haired bitch I worked on was moaning like she was getting off. I’m sure she was rollin’ because there was no way a tattoo directly above her clit could be anything other than fucking painful.

  Back in the day, I could zone out for hours while tattooing, finding that little corner of my life that didn’t involve all the bullshit I had to deal with on a daily basis.

  In the past when I’d been locked up, albeit for much shorter periods of time, the first thing on my mind was pussy and a party. But this time the first thing I did when I walked through the door was pick up my tattoo gun, but it wasn’t the same. I couldn’t reach that place of temporary reprieve no matter how hard I tried. It didn’t help that the tattoos people requested were getting dumber and fucking dumber.

  Football team logos, quotes from books you know they’ve never read, and wannabe gangsters wanting teardrops on their faces. In prison, the teardrop tattoo represented taking a life. Some of the little bitches who wanted them looked like they couldn’t step on a roach without cowering in the corner and crying for their mamas.