“Much better,” he rasps into my ear.
Yeah, that will definitely sort out that disconnection between us.
We kiss and I taste his sweat on my lips.
Chapter 15
Asher
She told me to sit down at the table so I did as I was told. Her cottage—her rules.
She’s cooking for me. It’s pissing me off, but I grit my teeth.
I told her to put nice underwear on and she did as she was told.
So overall, it’s not that bad.
The smell of cooked veggies wafts through the air as silence scented with old wood layers the kitchen. The sound of the simmering soup muffles it.
“I don’t want to fail in keeping our marriage, Michelle.” It just pours out of me.
Maybe Michelle was right. Maybe my divorce is a kind of failure.
“In the future, you’ll almost fail in keeping it,” she says as she turns to face me. “Not once, many times. But don’t worry, I’ll almost fail in keeping it too. We’ll argue. We’ll—“
“Fuck.”
“And then we’ll survive as a married couple. Scarred but more experienced. Stronger.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
She dishes up and sits down opposite me. I eat her food and pretend it’s edible. It fucking isn’t. It’s so vegetarian I want to puke.
After the meal, we move to the living room, and I start a fire in the stone fireplace. Michelle spreads a blanket and we drop on the brown leather sofa, covering ourselves with it. I reach to the back pocket of my jeans and take a red velvet box out.
“I want you to be my wife,” I say. “I’ve wanted that since I saw you for the first time.”
Michelle squeaks like a mouse. “Is this…?”
“Yes.” I plant a kiss on her temple.
“I’ll be a good wife to you.”
“I’ll bet you will.”
She opens the box and squeaks again. “Ridiculously expensive?”
“No, it wasn’t ridiculously expensive. White gold with a tiny diamond. Very modest, but I thought it would suit you.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful.”
We kiss.
We make love the whole night.
When we get up the next morning, madness starts. Michelle needs her documents back, so we go to town and argue with the people working in the town hall. Then I call Blaze and tell him to start organising our wedding. Fifteen days later, we manage to sell the cottage and we are ready to go back. Michelle visits her deceased mother in the cemetery. She tidies up the granite brown gravestone and burns two candles. Half an hour later, we have a walk along one of the beaches.
In the late evening, we get in the car.
We kiss and start our journey back home.
Chapter 16
Blaze
I lay Sofia on my double bed, and she groans. “You need anything else, sweetheart?” I ask. “A glass of water? A piece of fruit?”
“A miracle?”
“I’m not that skilled.”
“So what are your skills?” She rolls over on her side as I perch on the bed and cover her with the quilted purple comforter.
She ate supper and had a bath but needed my help to walk out of the bathroom. Poor little thing. So exhausted.
“It depends,” I say.
She chuckles. “On what?”
“On your needs at the moment. I’m sure I can be useful in some way.”
“You think I want to use you?” She rolls her eyes.
I take her wrist and smooth my fingers over the back of her hand. Her skin is soft to touch. “Now seriously. You need anything else?”
“A nice man in my bed.” She purrs. “You wanted to leave me, didn’t you? You wanted to leave me in that creepy room on my own?”
“I thought you needed time and space.” I bring her hand up to my lips and plant a kiss on her knuckles. Yes, I was planning to share a room with Monk for a while. Until Sofia gets used to me. Us. “I thought I was an old git to you.”
“A nice old git.”
I nod. “Fair enough.” I kiss the tip of her thumb. “And by the way, the room is not creepy. It’s sophisticated.”
Sofia rolls her eyes again. “It needs redecoration.” One of her large breasts slips out of her red satin nightdress.
My eyes flick over her areola topped with the erect nipple. My dick twitches in my pants. She’s really pretty. I can see the signs of her illness in the dark circles under her eyes and in the shape of her arms, but she is still a very attractive young woman.
Her lips are full and seductively pink, as tempting as the promise of sin.
“Alright, you’re the boss,” I say.
I haven’t renovated the clubhouse for many years. The whole estate belonged to my grandparents. My parents live in Sweden. My sister immigrated to the US thirty years ago, so I was the only person to inherit the estate from my grandparents after they had passed away. I inherited the buildings along with the debts. Monk has been my best friend since forever and it was his idea that we founded the club and started running a bar.
“You will have no use of me,” Sofia says, part serious, part humorous.
“I don’t need much in life.”
“What do you need?”
“A nice, intelligent woman who can smile for me every day.”
“I graduated from the Oxford University. And I can smile.”
“You see.”
She takes my hand and puts it on her cheek. “Go have a shower and come back to me as soon as you can.”
“I’m sure I can do that.”
I go to the bathroom and shower for five minutes. Then I brush my teeth, thread my fingers through my damp hair, and huff out.
I have a nice, pretty chick in my bed. And she’s gonna stay with me for longer.
Hell yeah. I’ll have a wife, not an easy pussy. I’m tired of meaningless sex.
I slip into my pyjama pants and walk out of the bathroom. The steam chases me in a big cloud. Sofia flashes me a mysterious smile as she waves her hand to me. I slip under the comforter and lie down beside her. I ease my weight onto my elbow. Sofia rolls over to face me.
“Have you ever been married?” she asks.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“First I was too young and then I was too busy.”
“Busy?”
“Yeah, Asher was too small, you know.”
“He’s quite grown now.”
“And that’s why I have you in my bed.”
“Are you going to be faithful to me?” A wrinkle appears on her forehead. “You can lie to me, no problem. I just want to hear those words whether you mean them or not.”
“I’m going to be very faithful to you and that’s not a lie. You have my word.”
“What an honourable knight.” She raises her hand and runs her fingers down my cheek. “Kiss me.”
That’s not what I expected, not so soon, but I can’t let my lady wait for me, so I lower my head and press my lips against hers. Her sweet mouth tastes of wild strawberries.
I realise I could love that chick. Yeah, I want to love her.
Our tongues dance in a slow rhythm and I feel her hand slip under my pants. Her fingers close around my hard cock.
“Fuck me,” she says as she strokes me up and down.
That’s not what I expected, not so soon, but I can’t disappoint my lady.
I stroke her pretty head with my hand. “You sure, sweetheart? I can wait.”
“I don’t want to wait.” She chuckles. “You’re very handsome, you know.”
I nod and crawl on top of her, shaking off my pants. She folds her legs and spreads them for me.
“You just need to be brief,” she says. “I’m not very energetic.” Delicate sarcasm coats her voice, but I can sense anxiety in her.
“That’s not a problem. Are you on the pill?”
“No.”
“I
have a pack of condoms—“
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Very sure.”
I slide my finger under her panties and probe her entrance. She’s wet for me, wet enough. What a pleasant surprise. I pull her panties aside and line my cock up with her entrance. Her eyes flutter as the smell of her musk makes a hungry animal out of me.
I shove my cock into her hot pussy. The moment I tear through her barrier, our glances collide. A gasp leaves her mouth as her face sharpens.
She should have told me.
But there’ll be time to talk about it later. Now, I want her to come on my cock. I slide my hand between our bodies and stroke her clit in circles. Her eyes start burning. She digs her fingers into my arms and comes with a sigh. Her walls spasm around my cock and that brings me to the brink.
“Can I cum over your tummy?” I ask.
“You can come inside me. I want to give you a baby while I still can.”
“Alright, I’m not gonna argue.”
I thrust into her, watching pain and pleasure mix on her face. My orgasm rolls over me as my lips search for hers.
Somehow, I know we are gonna be happy together.
She’ll be my very own sleeping beauty.
“You’re smiling,” she says, “so I’m assuming it wasn’t that bad.”
“It was very good. Very good, Sofia.”
“Very brief.”
“Very intense.”
I crawl off her as my eyes travel to my cock covered in her virginal blood. Sofia falls asleep at once. I kiss her lips and pull her into my arms. Her soft form shudders in my embrace. She mumbles something and then her breathing deepens.
I hope my son is as happy as I am now.
Epilogue
Michelle
The white satin hem of my dress rustles, so beautifully spread over the tulle layers of my petticoat, as I move my feet. I look to my left and see Blaze rocking my baby boy in the crook of his arm. Sofia is sitting beside her husband, and she’s holding my baby girl against her chest, just above her swollen stomach. Yes, Asher and I have twins, and Sofia is five months pregnant. Five cats inhabit the clubhouse and two more live in my house.
I realised I was pregnant just after we had returned to the clubhouse from Normandy.
We waited until our babies were born to have our wedding. That was my wish and Asher respected it. I wanted my babies to celebrate with me.
Mr Mafioso flashes me a predatory grin. I don’t know what to think about him. He’ll be part of my life, so I guess I should make friends with him. Chills go down my spine. Each time our glances meet, his is like the promise of death. I’m scared of him even though he’s a handsome man. Tasha said he’d once had a wife. Now he has only mistresses.
We attended Sofia and Blaze’s wedding that took place in Abramo’s enormous house, but that was a biker wedding with cuts and jeans and a wild party.
Asher corrects the collar of his white shirt and brushes my forehead with his lips. The edges of his cut scrape against my dress. Music starts playing. My heart hammers in my chest. Our wedding dance. I’m scared to death.
The beading on my corset reflects the light emitted from three crystal chandeliers. Tasha shows me her thumb up from behind the bar. The boys whistle and hoot and yell.
Asher slams his lips on mine, grasps my waist, and lifts me off the floor. He spins with my form in his arms as the layers of my petticoat rustle like spring leaves in the wind.
We attended a few dance classes before the wedding, but I’m a lost case. Thank God, it’s only three minutes.
As I return to my seat at the long table, sweat pricks my forehead. Asher pulls me into his lap and puts a strawberry into my mouth. Sofia rolls her eyes but flashes me a genuine smile. She pulls Blaze’s hand and whispers something into his ear. Blaze says something to Monk and he lays my babies into two cots. Blaze helps Sofia lie down on the couch. A grey tinge of fatigue shadows her face.
“They look happy,” I say to Asher.
“My dad and his young wife?”
“Yes.”
“My dad looks like a drunken teen.”
I nudge his chest with my elbow. “You look like a drunken teen.”
“That’s expected. I’m the happiest man on the face of the earth after all.”
I’m the happiest woman on the face of the earth.
We’re building an extension so The Grim Traveller can be converted into a hotel. I’m planning to build my bookshop in two, three years. Asher’s planning to have two more kids. We’ll see.
We’ve never gone to therapy even though a lot of people similar to us do. We talk a lot. Sometimes, it’s like there’s an invisible connection between us and no words are necessary. Sometimes, it’s like we’re living in two different dimensions and two days of harsh, impatient words are not enough. Life, I guess.
We eat, drink and kiss. Asher’s mouth touches his brand on my back. That was his wish, and I respected it.
My eyes sweep over the bar. Sofia rests her head on Blaze’s lap and he lowers his head to kiss her lips. He holds her hand in his and flashes her a smile. Love pervades his gaze.
Mr Abramo invites Tasha to a dance and they sway around the dance floor. The boys start getting drunk.
I feel at peace.
I feel happy like never before.
I’m so lucky even though it’s not perfect.
Five years later.
I smooth two of my fingers over the backs of the romance books that stand on the shelf as the front door creaks open. I turn around and see a customer walk in—a woman in her late fifties.
Yes, my customers are mainly older people that live in the area. I barely make an income, but that doesn’t matter. The smell of paper matters. The smiles of my customers matter.
I sell two books and it’s time to close. My eyes roam over the interior that brings images of antique shops to one’s head before I walk out. Asher is waiting for me. I jump on his bike and we roar towards our house.
I work two days a week—Mondays and Fridays. Tasha works four days a week—Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. She enjoys her job as much as I do. I know Asher pays her additional money for keeping her at my bookshop even though he’s never admitted that. He also pays her for babysitting our kids when needed. Python helps Tasha babysit them for free. I think they’re together, but they keep saying they aren’t. We’ll see.
Today is our wedding anniversary so we’re going to celebrate in the bar.
We park in front of the house and I run into the living room to kiss my kids and then into the kitchen to grab something to eat. Tasha is drinking tea, leaning against the cupboard.
“We’ll be back before midnight,” I say.
“Don’t worry,” Tasha says. “I have everything under control.”
Her hand jerks up and she smoothes it over her tummy. Our glances collide.
I raise my finger in accusation. “You.”
“Be quiet, you gothic girl. It’s too early to spill the news.”
I walk over to her and hug her. “I’m so happy for you.” I stroke her arm up and down. “Love you, bookshop girl.”
She rolls her eyes and ushers me into the bathroom.
I shower, put a bathrobe on, put my kids to bed, and slip into a black top with a laced back and a pair of skinny jeans. My husband grabs my hand and drags me out of the house. Python passes us as we settle ourselves on Asher’s bike. He salutes us as his Nubian face lights up and then he steps into the house. He’s thirty-five, but with his shaven head, he looks only twenty-five.
The bike roars forward.
The bar is full as we enter it. Balloons and banners adorn the walls. The boys rumble their lion-like greetings at the sight of us.
This part of the clubhouse is for the club members only. The extension is for our hotel guests. There’s a nice restaurant and the other bar, separated by a thick wall and a fence of greenery from the private part. Asher and Blaze are very good at run
ning the hotel and it earns us a lot of money.
The boys raise their glasses in a toast to us, and then Asher pulls me towards the dance floor.
“So, Mrs Connon, enjoying your marriage so far?”
“Yes, very much.”
Well, I’m pregnant again. Three months to be precise.
We sway and kiss and then chat with the boys.
Two hours later, it starts getting loud and dirty—alcohol splashes against the floor, hands grope, hips and thighs rub.
My husband plunges his hand under my top and twists my nipple. Oh, he’s in a dirty mood too. I’m seated on his lap and he’s drinking his beer. He puts the empty glass on the floor. His teeth mark my neck, and I mewl.
“You’re gonna be a good girl, tonight,” he rasps into my ear.
His other hand slips under my jeans and he dips a finger into my heat.
I’m gonna be a very good wife tonight.
Asher massages my clit in circles and I come with a moan.
It’s my turn now.
I rise to my feet and hold his hand, pulling him behind the stairwell. We hide in the niche behind the black velvet curtain. I lower to my knees and open his trousers. His hard cock springs free. I draw his shaft into my mouth and work him slowly.
I know what to do.
I know how to make my husband shiver and burn with desire. I know how to force a low growl from his throat. I know how to make him come for me.
He empties himself into my mouth, and I swallow every salty drop of his come.
An hour later, we take a taxi and go back home. We fuck in the shed that stands in our garden before we step into the house.
Yes, we love being naughty from time to time.
Tasha and Python are sleeping on the sofa in the living room, clenched tight together and wrapped in a blanket.
Well, everything is as it should be.
Asher
Fifteen years later.
My eyes roam over the cold faces of the men sitting around the table and I start church. I’m the president. Blaze retired four years ago and I was voted in.
“The whole net,” Jackson, the president of the Furious Daggers MC says, “seven hundred names.”
“It will take us a lifetime to exterminate such a number,” Mike, the president of the Devil’s Tears MC says as he grins.
Lucky: Furious Skulls MC (A Bad Boy MC Biker Romance) Page 12
