“What?” I ask as she stares at me.
“She saw me, and you—she saw us,” Cleo whispers.
“Yeah, that shit tends to happen in this place. What’s the deal?” I ask, closing the distance between us and wrapping my arm around her waist, pulling her closer to me.
“Nobody’s ever seen me like that before,” she mutters.
“Nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart,” I rumble as I lower my face and press my lips to her sweet ones.
“I’m so embarrassed,” she mutters.
“Why? She walked in on us. If anyone should be embarrassed, it’s her.”
Cleo presses her lips together, and it’s then that I know this has nothing to do with Honey. I wait her out, my arms refusing to let her go, holding her close, and patiently waiting for her to continue with whatever fucked up shit she’s got rollin’ around in her gorgeous head.
“She’s skinny, and young, and you’ve been with her. She saw that your wife has dimples on her thighs and ass, boobs sagging down, and probably my stomach, too. I hate that she’s seen that, I know you say you like the way I look, but you’ve been with her, and I’m nothing like her.”
“Do I need to fuck you again to prove just how much I like all that shit you listed as negative about your body?” I ask. Cleo shakes her head with wide eyes staring up at me. “Not one for skinny bitches, baby. I fucked her because she was there, not because I found her attractive. Makes me a dick, especially since we’re technically married; but, sweetheart, you have to believe me when I say that all you have goin’ on is sexy as fuck. You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.”
“Paxton,” she whispers as her eyes fill with tears.
“Not lyin’ to you, Cleo. Now let’s get some sleep so I can fuck you one more time before I gotta leave tomorrow,” I grin down at her.
This woman.
Fucking shit.
She’s everything.
I suck in a breath as I throw my head back and grind down on Paxton’s lap. His arm is wrapped around my back, and his fingers are shoved between my legs as he plays with my clit. But the sexiest part of this moment are his blue eyes. They’re completely focused on me, and I can practically feel how much he wants to make me come—again.
“You gonna miss me?” he rasps as I climb higher toward my release.
“Yeah,” I whisper before he pinches my clit.
“When I come home, we’re moving on from the past, completely and totally done with it,” he growls.
He thrusts inside of me, stroking me one last time before I fall apart in his arms. He shoves his face in my neck and lets out a long groan. I sag against him and give him the rest of my body weight.
“Okay, Pax,” I whisper.
“Fuck, I’m gonna miss you. I’ll call you,” he murmurs.
I lift my head up and look into his eyes.
“You’ll call?” I ask in surprise.
“Yeah, sweetheart, I’ll call. We’ll talk. You’ll tell me about the past eleven years, and I’ll try to open up about myself, too,” he chuckles as his thumb traces my bottom lip.
“I’d love that,” I whisper.
“Know you would, baby; it’s why I’m doin’ it.”
“Thank you, Pax,” I grin.
“Hop off my dick, sweetheart. I don’t have time to fuck you again,” he grunts.
I giggle as he releases his hold on me, and I crawl away from him and off of the bed. I gather my things before I put his shirt back on and start to head for the shower.
“Can’t wait until we have our own place. First spot I’m fuckin’ you in is the shower,” he announces as I step out of the door.
“Sounds fun. I’ll keep that in mind while I’m house hunting,” I offer with a smile.
“Yeah, sweetheart, you do that,” he grunts as his nostrils flare.
“So how long have you and Soar been together?” I ask Genny, taking my small suitcase into her spare bedroom.
“Since I was fifteen. He was eighteen,” she shrugs.
I set my things down and then turn around to face her. It’s weird. I don’t really know her, and yet, I’m going to be living here with her for the next couple of weeks. Everything about her is immaculate, including her house. She seems almost like a porcelain doll, like one wrong move could break her. She’s so fragile.
“Wow, that’s a long time,” I murmur.
“Seventeen years. Probably twelve years too long,” she announces as her nose scrunches up.
“You need to talk about it?” I ask.
“No. There’s nothing to say. He fucks other women at his club while he’s so high he doesn’t even remember his own name; and I’m here, waiting for him to grow the fuck up. He’s thirty-five years old. I’ve lost hope that he ever will.”
I open my mouth to reply to her, but she doesn’t let me. Instead, she just walks away, leaving me alone in her living room. I make my way into the kitchen, searching for a glass and then some water. I have a feeling that the next two weeks are going to be really, really long.
“Hello,” I whisper into the phone.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Paxton’s voice murmurs huskily from the other line. “How you gettin’ along?”
“I’m okay. Just reading in bed,” I say with a sigh.
“Everything goin’ okay with Genny?” he asks.
It’s been three days, and I’ve only encountered Genny once since our initial conversation. She seems sad, almost as if she’s just floating through life, as if she’s living it with no purpose at all. It’s painful to watch. I don’t know what she does in her room all day long, but I didn’t go to work today, and she never came out. The only reason I know that she’s home is because her car is in the garage.
“Yeah,” I sigh.
“She’s not always an easy woman, I’ve heard,” he murmurs.
I hum my response but don’t say anything. I’m not sure how easy I would be if my husband of fourteen years, who I lived with the entire time, got high and had sex with whores on a regular basis.
“Tell me something about you,” I urge, changing the subject.
Every night, Paxton has called, just as he’s promised; and every night, he’s told me something new about himself. In return, I tell him something about me. Sometimes they’re deep, like when he told me about his mother and her horrendous treatment of him; and sometimes he just tells me something simple, like his favorite meal.
“When I was deployed the first time, and you were at home waiting for me,” he begins, and I know that it’s going to be something deep tonight. “All the guys were getting Dear John letters, calls, and emails from friends about their girls being sluts or whatever. I never worried about you. I know I came home and was a dick to you. But honest to fuck, sweetheart, I never once worried that you would step out on me.”
I curl onto my side and close my eyes, thinking about the words he’s saying and the amount of trust he truly had in me back then. I loved him so much, and I just knew we were going to have a perfect life together.
“You’ll never have to worry about me, Pax,” I admit.
“Know that, Clee. I came back a fuckin’ mess. I knew I would hurt you. After I did what I did, I left and I got drunk, but I got drunk alone. I didn’t go out with anyone and I didn’t party or anything. I sat in a booth, in a bar, by myself, and I drank and drank and drank some more. I was my mother. I was hateful and cruel and I hurt you for no good fuckin’ reason. I knew, baby, I knew that it would happen again. It’s one of the reasons I left you. I couldn’t hurt you like that again,” he murmurs.
I can’t stop the tears from flowing down my face. He’s said some of this to me before, but I know that right now, he’s still kicking himself for the past, and that needs to stop. We’ll never move forward if he doesn’t stop.
“For a long time, there was nobody else, Cleo. I did another tour, and so much bad shit happened that I couldn’t re-up again, not if I ever wanted a chance at not being a complete mental case. I
got out and went back to my hometown. It wasn’t ‘til I saw a buddy of my dad’s that I looked into the club. Never had that in me before. The life my dad lived just wasn’t really what I ever dreamed about. But Buck saw the demons and he talked to me about the war, about the bad shit, and it helped.”
“I’m glad that you had someone to help you,” I whisper.
“You would be, my sweetheart.”
“I wish that I could have been that for you,” I admit, chewing on my bottom lip.
“I know you do. I wish that I would have allowed you to be that for me.”
We stay silent for a moment and then Paxton says he has to go. I don’t want him to get off of the phone, but I know that he has to.
“I miss you,” I whisper before I hang up.
“Miss, you too, sweetheart.”
The line goes dead, and I plug my cell into the charger before I curl beneath the sheets and think about him. I can’t help the tears that continue to flow at the thought of him eleven years ago.
I can’t even comprehend what he must have been feeling. He was so young—we were so young. I have to try and forget the what ifs, because that time is gone. I need to focus on the future and what can be.
It’s been a week since I’ve seen my woman. Goddamn, I didn’t think that I would ever truly yearn for someone the way that I do for her. We’ve just dropped off our delivery to Ziven, our Russian contact in Denver, and Soar is chatting to him before we head back to our hotel. I watch as Ziven pulls out a phone, and then a few moments, later he grins at Soar and they shake hands.
“Got some pussy and dope for the night. Figured you wouldn’t be down. They’re sendin’ a car to pick me up,” he shrugs.
“Have fun. Don’t get into trouble,” I chuckle as I clap him on the back.
“I ever get into trouble?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow.
“Depends on who’s askin’,” I laugh.
“Gen doesn’t count. She’s pissed off because the sky isn’t the right shade of blue and doesn’t match her eyes.” I look at him in surprise and he shakes his head. “Everything pisses, Gen off. Every fuckin’ thing. I might as well have some fun,” he shrugs.
“Not gettin’ in the middle of your marriage, brother,” I say, holding up my hands.
“Fuck, what marriage? Can’t remember the last time I even got tit, let alone fucked her,” he growls as a car pulls up. “I’m out.”
I watch as she slides into the backseat of an expensive black sedan, lifting his chin in my direction before the car takes off. I hope that he’s back by morning, because there’s no way in fuck I want to stay around Denver longer than I have to. It’s cold, and I miss my woman.
I’m gonna kill that fucker.
It’s noon when Soar saunters into the hotel room, as if we weren’t supposed to head out of this place five fucking hours ago. I place my hands on my hips and watch him walk into the room. When he sees the steam that’s pouring out of my ears, he at least has the guts to look sorry.
“We’re leavin’, now,” I grunt as I pick up my bag and hoist it over my shoulder.
“Need to at least get a shower, brother. I smell like I’ve been fuckin’ pros all night,” he chuckles.
“No time,” I announce.
“Fine. Fuck it. At least we won’t be back in Cali without having to stop at another hotel, so I can wash the hooker off of me before I see Gen.”
I grunt, unsure of why he’s all of a sudden worried about what Genny thinks. He wasn’t worried about it yesterday afternoon when he left, or last night when he was fucking the prostitutes themselves. I don’t understand what they’ve got going on, not even a little.
Back in Idaho, we had brothers who fucked whores and were married. They didn’t want their wives to find out—not like Soar who, one second doesn’t care, and the next second acts as though he’s remorseful.
I don’t understand it at all.
Driving toward home, we’re able to go a little faster, taking main roads and not having to avoid any. Our truck is completely empty of anything illegal, and I’m glad for it. I miss my woman, and last night she informed me that she’d found a place for us.
Colleen, Texas’ Old Lady, took her house hunting, along with Mary-Anne and Teeny. They even put a deposit down to hold it. Cleo was so excited, there’s no way I could say no, even if I tried. There’s a pool, and she’s thrilled to be able to sunbathe. Honest to fuck, I’m thrilled to be able to watch her do it.
“When we stop for diesel, I’m gonna need to ride passenger and you’re gonna need to drive. My head is killin’ me,” I grumble.
“Yeah, sure,” Soar shrugs.
It’s been two days since he came back smelling like a brothel, and he’s rested up. His eyes are no longer rimmed red from drug use. Soar’s not a bad guy. He’s a great brother, but I can see there’s something larger than pussy and dope working behind his eyes.
It takes a guy with demons to spot another. He tries to play off like he’s this happy go-lucky guy, that nothing bothers him, but I can see past that to the pain that lies beneath.
“Oh, fuck,” Soar shouts as the truck starts to slow down.
What seems like minutes later, I sit up, my vision hazy from sleep.
“What’s happening?” I ask, looking around.
“Fucking pigs, goddamn,” he growls.
I don’t know what he’s so worried about. We have a hidden compartment where we stow our guns while we’re traveling, for this reason alone, and all of our product is gone. I don’t get a chance to ask him why he’s starting to sweat and look really fucking guilty because the officer is already at his door.
He asks both of us to get out of the truck just as another officer pulls up. One has Soar and another has me. He asks me shit like where we’re headed and where we came from. I tell him the story that we’re always supposed to tell anybody who asks.
We helped a friend move to Denver. We’re on our way back to California.
The cop questioning me totally buys it, but something isn’t right with Soar. He’s being patted down, and I know that he’s holding something just by the way his head drops back as he closes his eyes. Fuck.
We’re only an hour from home. One hour. Goddammit.
I watch as the cop throws some baggies on the hood of his car. Then he hooks Soar up with cuffs.
“Your buddy’s getting arrested and booked with intent to sell those narcotics he’s got on him. We gonna find anything in the back of that truck that will hook you up, too?” asks the cop that’s been questioning me.
“Take a look around. I got nothin’,” I shrug. I swear to fuck, if Soar has more in his bag and I go down for his shit, I’m gonna shank his ass in prison.
It only takes a few minutes for the two cops to search the truck and come up with a whole lotta fuckin’ nothing. Begrudgingly, they let me go. I turn on my speaker and dial MadDog as I make my way toward the clubhouse.
“Yeah,” he mutters into the phone.
“Got pulled over an hour outside of the county line. Soar got hooked up with intent to sell,” I say, cutting to the chase.
“Fucking shit. That guy and his goddamn dope,” MadDog roars.
“I’m on my way to the clubhouse, but someone’s gotta tell Genny,” I grumble. No way in fuck do I want to be the one who tells her.
“Christ. That bitch is going to go off the rails,” he says.
I nod, like he can see me, and tell him that I’ll be there in an hour. He tells me that he’ll call the girls and have them come to the clubhouse.
Fucking hell.
Pulling up to the clubhouse an hour later, I see that the parking lot is full of cars and bikes. My eyes catch my Ranchero, and I know that Clee is inside waiting for me. I pull the truck into the warehouse and then hop out, slamming the door behind me before walking into the club.
Opening the door, I’m met with the angry glare of Genny.
“What did he have?” she asks.
“I’m sorry, babe, I don�
��t know. I only know they hooked him up and carted his ass off,” I say, my voice soft and gentle.
She nods once, and I watch her—the whole fuckin’ room watches her—waiting for her to flip her shit. But she doesn’t. Instead, she looks around and catches MadDog’s eye.
“I’m leaving. I’m not coming back. I’m going home to my family. I’m sorry, but I’m divorcing his ass,” she announces.
“Now, Genny. We don’t even know if the charges will stick,” MadDog explains.
“No, fuck that. He doesn’t give a fuck about me. He cares about the club and the drugs and the whores. I’m not anywhere on that list. So he can have it all, and he doesn’t have to worry about me anymore,” she says as she starts to take a step toward the front door.
“Babe, you know that’s not true,” Colleen says.
“Do I?” Genny asks, arching a brow. “I know he doesn’t come home for days, sometimes even weeks. I know he’d rather fuck those whores then come home to me. I know that what I want, it doesn’t fucking matter.”
“What do you want?” Colleen asks. I feel embarrassed for Genny. She doesn’t seem like an open person, and here she is, laying her shit out in front of the club.
“Everything,” she practically whispers.
“That’s too much,” Colleen whispers back.
“Then. Fuck. Him.” Genny growls before she walks out of the door, slamming it behind her and leaving us all pretty fucking stunned.
“I feel like I should chase after her,” I whisper to nobody but myself.
“Don’t, I’m going to,” Mary-Anne says next to me. I watch her storm after Genny, MadDog close behind her, with a grunt and a low murmur that I can’t quite decipher.
“Clee,” Paxton’s voice rumbles, taking my thoughts from Genny as I turn to him.
He’s standing too far away, looking at me with something I can’t read, but I don’t care. After weeks, he’s here. Here. I start to move my feet; then they carry me in a run, and I jump in his arms, wrapping my thighs around his waist and my arms around his neck before my lips crash against his. Paxton catches me with a grunt and wraps his long fingers around my ass, giving me a squeeze.
Rough & Ready (Notorious Devils Book 5) Page 16
