Burnt: A Devil's Spawn Novel

by Natasha Thomas

  Yeah. You heard me. I did indeed inquire about taking out a hit on my own mom and Aunt. Dad may have said ‘no’, but at least he considered my request for a second or two there. Funnily enough, the only one to stick up for the Crazy Conductors is Lexi. She’s so excited she’s tasked with being my flower girl, that I thought we were going to have to update the number of card carrying members of the Crazy Conductors to three instead of two, in the very near future.

  Dealing with; contractors ripping out walls, constant hammering, guys in and out of my house non-stop, two middle aged wedding crazed mad women, a best friend, Lou, feeling displaced with the two crazy ladies taking over my wedding, a stressed out Billy, because Lou is stressed out and taking it out on him, a father that’s at my house more than his own, a five-year-old that’s well on her way to wedding diva status, work kicking my ass, and lastly a fiancée that’s seemingly borderline indifferent to my suffering; I’m stressed the fuck out, to say the least. If that isn’t enough, on top of all that, my period is late. LATE!

  I’m NEVER late. I’ve been having regular thirty-day cycles since my periods started when I was thirteen; cramps for two and a half days leading up to it, bleed for three days, and voila I’m done. In the beginning, I thought it was the stress throwing me out of whack, but being eleven days late, as of yesterday, I decided it’s time to pee on a stick, and wouldn’t you know it. BANG! I’m pregnant. At what could be considered the worst time in the history of mankind, I, Kendall Bethany Jacobs manage to make matter so much worse.

  Not worse in the sense that I’m not thrilled, because I am. I’m not worried about Dec’s reaction either. He’s told me numerous times he doesn’t want to wait to add to our family, and he’s certainly been putting in the effort in the bedroom, hallway, bathroom, shower, on his bike, pretty much anywhere we’re alone for more than twenty minutes; sometimes less if he’s desperate, which is more often than you’d thing for a man that gets laid at least twice a day already. Lexi will be over the moon to have a baby brother, or sister, my mom will be uber excited too.

  No, what makes everything worse is; I can’t see our hectic schedules, or stress waning any time in the near future. Currently, I’m working fifty hours a week, taking care of Lexi and Dec, Abel, Monty, our house and the work crew that are constantly sniffing around for coffee, and baked goods which I graciously provide and cook in army size quantities, and lastly; our impending nuptials.

  Having a baby is something I’ve wanted since I was a little girl. It might be stereotypical, and possibly considered a prehistoric way of thinking, but I was raised with a mom at home, and a dad that worked. Actually, most of the kids connected to the club that had both parents’ at home had the same sort of set up. There is something about big, bad, testosterone filled, caveman bikers that denote they need a little woman at home, and in this case, Dec would have me at home, barefoot, and pregnant permanently, given half the chance.

  Now, I know what you’re thinking, they’re sexist and all that but, you couldn’t be more wrong. These guys don’t adhere to rules and regulations, but they do; skirt the law, fight, drink, smoke, wear leather, and ride chrome showed how much they love their woman and children, and prove this by providing for them. It isn’t a prerequisite, but all the ones I know that have ol ladies, feel it’s their duty to make sure their woman’s needs are taken care of, bills are paid, houses and cars brought, and depending on the couple, the ol lady stays at home to raise their children.

  It’s not that I subscribe to this way of thinking exactly, but I do understand what it means to Dec to be able to do it. I also want the opportunity to be able to stay home with our babies, if we have more than one. There would be nothing worse to me; than to only be able to spend early mornings, and late evenings with my child, but my work is an integral part of me. Art to me, is like air to others, and I needed that outlet for my creativity, it channels my passion and determination, and allows me to create something lasting, leave a legacy of sorts. I honestly don’t know how we’ll make this work, all I know is that we will. There’s no way I’ll even consider alternatives, this baby is a part of me and Dec, it symbolises us together.

  Running my hand lightly over my stomach, I contemplate how to tell Dec. He’ll be over the moon at this little development, and I can’t help but smile at what his reaction will be. I’m not nervous, or anxious like a lot of woman might be. I’m excited, and it takes all my self-control not to jump up and down like a kid on Christmas morning.

  Looking in the mirror, I finish braiding my hair and walk out of the bathroom. I’ve only gotten as far as putting on my underwear, one of my favourite sets that consist of an emerald green demi-cup lace bra, and matching, barely there thong, when I stop in my tracks. Dec’s lying on the bed, fully naked, covers around his ankles, and his hands linked behind his head. There’s nothing that turns me on, makes me hot and bothered, as quickly as Dec can naked. He’s divine.

  Dec’s skin is tanned all over, and hot to the touch; he’s like my personal furnace when he wraps himself around me at night. His chest is almost completely hairless, and that trail of hair that leads to the biggest cock I’ve ever seen is a tease. I love the pronounced V that leads to his groin, it’s like my own personal arrow pointing straight towards heaven. Muscled thighs and his legs long are perfectly proportioned, even the man’s feet are fucking sexy. I love Dec’s arms the most though. Covered shoulder to elbow on both sides with tattoos, one arm is dedicated to a bio-mechanical Harley engine with rods, pistons, carburettor, hoses, the works. Its phenomenal work, and Uncle Max outdid himself on that one. The other arm is all my work.

  A large American Bald Eagle, wings spread and head tipped to the sky sideways features front and centre, behind it is a tattered American flag on the upper portion of his arm, directly below the Colorado Rockies. Dec’s tattoo took two sittings and sixteen hours to complete. It’s extremely detailed, and to this day some of my best work that I’ve actually featured in my portfolio. I’ll never recreate it for anyone else though, that was all for Dec.

  The hot tattoos, massive biceps, that I can’t even get both hands around, they’re that big, veined forearms, and strong work roughened hands, aren’t what I love the most however. No. What I love is; every time I’m in Dec’s arms I feel safe, protected, cherished, and loved. There isn’t another place in the world that makes me feel more at home than when I’m curled into his side, his arms wrapped around me holding me close.

  Spotting me standing at the threshold of our bedroom, Dec lifts his head and grins at me.

  “You ok babe?” It’s a valid question, I am just standing here staring at him after all. I make the decision that there’s no time like the present, running to the bed, and jumping on knees first.

  Crawling over to him, I straddle his powerful thighs, and place my hands on his waist before speaking.

  “Yep. I’m more than okay.” He smiles at me fully now. I love Dec’s smile. It’s slightly crooked and more than a little wicked. It promises dirty, naughty things, and never ceases to make me wet.

  “Good to hear, Sweetheart. What’s got you so excited this morning, not that I’m complaining?” I suppose it has been awhile since I’ve been happy to face the day. Most days I dread leaving the house for fear mom, or Aunt Sheila will catch up with me. Not today though.

  Today, I’m more than happy.

  “I have something to tell you.” Cocking a brow at me he waits for me to go on. “I don’t know if this is a good time, I know we’re so busy, and the wedding is coming up, and we have…”

  He cuts me off by laughing, and squeezing my hips with his hands.

  “Take a breath, Baby, and tell me what’s got you so worked up.”

  I do just that. I take a deep breath letting it fill my lungs, and on the exhale I feel the weight of our situation ease a little.

  “I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to come out with it.” Dec’s brow furrows with a look of concern. I try to give him a smile, but I t
hink it comes out more like a grimace. “Relax honey, it’s nothing bad.” Taking another deep breath, I put my man out of his misery. “I’m pregnant Dec. We’re goi…”

  I get cut off on a squeak, and before I can blink I’m flying through the air, landing on my back on the bed with an obviously ecstatic Dec looming over me.

  “Did you just say you’re having my baby, Sweetheart?” I nod softly, and Dec continues, “You’re telling me, I planted my baby in you? That you’re going to make me a dad again?”

  Reaching up, I take his jaw in my hands and stroke my thumbs up and down it. His eyes are huge and bright, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say there’s tears behind them. Bikers don’t cry though, they get dirt in their eyes.

  “Yes honey, you’re going to be a daddy again in about seven and a half months.”

  Dec doesn’t hesitate, he slams his mouth to mine, taking it in a brutal kiss. This isn’t one of his soft, slow kisses. No. It’s possessive, filled with heat, hunger, and love. He plunders my mouth, spearing his strong tongue into its depths, doing duel with mine. Even though the kiss is brutal, it’s beautiful too.

  Roughly pulling his mouth from mine, he looks straight into my eyes.

  “You just made me the happiest fucking man alive. I didn’t think it got better than you agreeing to marry me, Baby, but you just blew that out of the water.” Stroking my still flat belly he adds, “Thank you, Sweetheart. Thank you for giving me, us, this. I’ll never want anything else from you Kendall after you’ve given me this.”

  Kissing his lips lightly I reply,

  “I hope that’s not the case big guy. I want at least two more after this one, so you better prepare yourself to be a very busy man.”

  Smiling hugely at me he chuckles,

  “More than happy to oblige there, Sweetheart. Four kids, hey? By my calculations, that’s a lot of practice making them we’ve got to get in there.” Trust him to think of that, not that I mind. Nope. I wouldn’t mind practicing with him at all. On that thought, he strips me of my bra and panties, and goes about proving just how perfect we are together. Our love making is different this time; it’s reverent, slow, and full of passion. Dec worships my body, spending time kissing, and licking every inch of my body until he eventually slides inside me, filling every inch of me. In doing so, my body, my heart and my soul sings.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Declan

  The day of Declan and Kendall’s wedding…..

  Standing in the centre of the courtyard at the clubhouse, I can barely believe my fucking eyes. Not only is the place almost unrecognisable as a biker compound, it’s been transformed into a goddamn circus, complete with emcee’s, Sheila and Brenna, apes doing tricks, my brothers’ doing heavy lifting and shit, and hyperactive monkey’s, that could only be Lou and Priss. I feel like screaming that this isn’t a fucking Broadway production, it’s the start of the rest of my life with Kendall, and this shit is going past ridiculous, but I don’t,

  Sheila and Brenna are running around putting last minute touches on shit, directing traffic. Priss and Lou have been yelling at every fucker about every-fucking-thing for the last hour, and are fucking practically jumping around the place. They only just went inside to one of the dorm rooms to finish getting ready, I think everyone was about ready to lock them in cages if they hadn’t fucked off when they did. Brothers are carrying flowers, and white timber folding chairs that are being placed around ten seater circular tables, surrounding the courtyard. Sheila finished the table setting’s a couple of hours ago, and threatened death to anyone that messed them up.

  I have to say, it’s a pretty sweet setup, regardless of the drama it’s taken to get it looking this way, and I’m positive Kendall will love it. At the end of the day, that’s all that matters anyway. As long as my woman is happy, I’m over-fucking-joyed.

  The tablecloths are silver, and drape until they hang about half a foot off the floor, cream coloured napkins, or so I’m told, and I’ve also been instructed by Kendall not to comment on it to Sheila, for fear of an in depth conversation about the exact shade of cream they are, in round silver holders with matching place card holders sit above square plates, and gleaming silver cutlery. In the centre of each table is a tall vase filled with Calla Lilies and green fern leaves. Little sparkly things, who knows what the fuck they are actually, are scattered all over the place, and the chairs are now being tied with matching silver sashes. Seeing brothers tying sashes is pretty fucking hilarious. All decked out in boots, leather, and denim, fussing with bows and shit makes me chuckle to myself. I should take pictures of this, and use it for leverage is I ever need it.

  The head table has the same shit on it with the exception being, it’s a rectangular table, and the vases are actually long rectangular ones that look more like mini planter boxes. The Lilies are without their stems floating in water, and the bases are filled with the same shiny shit as the other tables hold. I doubt Brenna, and in turn Priest spared any expense in setting this all up, after all they only have one daughter, and this will be their ONLY fucking shot at this.

  What takes my breath away, is where Kendall and I will actually tie the knot. Its crazy beautiful, and something I never would have thought of, but it’s perfect for us. This is the one thing Kendall refused to budge on. She let her mom and aunt do pretty much whatever the fuck they wanted with the rest, but with this she told the two Crazy Conductors it’s non-negotiable, and they had no fucking say in how it was set up.

  Under the Oak tree I fell in love with my woman, is a distressed, rusty, old looking wrought iron gate, held up by translucent wires attached to one of the lower overhanging branches. Woven in wire, and mesh to support the weight, is a phrase in cursive script, made out of mosaic tiles saying, ‘Magic is all around you every day’. The colours are fucking phenomenal. Deep reds, forest green, silver, gold, sapphire blue, and Kendall’s favourite plum purple, tiles have been painstakingly broken and arranged to form words that are about half a foot tall, and slanted to look like they were drawn, not created from scraps of glass. My woman IS the fucking magic. While all this shit is nice, it’s just the icing on the cake. Nothing will outshine my girl today. In saying that, I can assure you that gate is coming home with us. I’ll find a way to work it in to the back garden at home, if it’s the last thing I do.

  The last two weeks since finding out my woman is carrying my baby have been fucking great. Aside from the shit from her mom and Aunt regarding the weddin, her dad practically living at our place, Lexi being excited about getting a little brother or sister, Kendall’s girls taking up a lot of her spare time, my poor woman doesn’t have much of it begin with, the construction crew asking me endless fucking questions about paint, carpet and other shit; everything has been smooth sailing.

  Kendall takes everything in her stride. She rarely bitches, doesn’t miss a beat when it comes to feeding the hordes of people, including Lexi and I, her dad, and the construction guys, she works insane fucking hours at Skin Fusion, makes our house a home, and still has a smile on her face most of the time. I watch her sometimes when she’s not looking, and she’s rushing around the place doing all this shit, and it just blows my mind how fucking incredible my woman is. The second she told me she was making me a dad again, something in me changed. It’s hard to explain, but it was like a light was thrown on after years of darkness. That feeling settled deep, taking root. Not only is this woman everything to me, the mother of my daughter, my best friend, and my soon to be wife; she’s also my glue.

  For years I’ve been broken, just pieces of a person that were put together wrong to make up then man I was. Sure, I was a functioning man, but that was all surface shit. I was breathing, doing my job, loving my family, and loyal to my brothers, but there was nothing there for me at the end of the day. Kendall is the only one that can fill that void. That can make me feel. That glued me back together.

  What I’ve always wanted with Kendall is finally coming about. Fuck. Honestly, I knew it was going to
happen sooner or later. I had secretly hoped sooner, and that hope won out for once. I mean seriously, from the second I started fucking my woman we haven’t bothered taking precautions to prevent having a baby. Kendall had a bad reaction to the Pill when she was a teenager, and again as an adult, so that was out. There was no way in hell I was wrapping my junk, not being able to go bareback feeling my woman’s hot, wet pussy around me, not a fucking chance. We’d never talked about it, but I knew Kendall was all in. Her having my baby was a given anyway, why bother preventing what’s inevitable for us eventually?

  Kendall wanted to wait to tell everyone, but that shit wasn’t happening either. I made sure to tell Lexi, who in turn took care of telling everyone else. To say Kendall was pissed about it, would be a vast underestimation of her fiery ass temper; my woman was fucking furious.

  As punishment for me indirectly spilling the news, Kendall locked me out of her sweet body for three days, gave me the silent treatment, and pissed off looks. I ended that shit by throwing her over my shoulder, carrying her to our bedroom, locking the door, and fucking her until she begged for me to end it. I hadn’t let her cum until she promised to stop her shit, get over it, and talk to me.