Rough & Ready (Notorious Devils Book 5)

by Hayley Faiman

  “Don’t get yourself killed,” he mutters as he walks away.

  I won’t get myself killed. This isn’t my first rodeo.

  “You ready?” I ask the seemingly empty room. I load up my bag, careful not to jumble around the explosives too much.

  “Got my shit set up. Just us two?” he asks.

  “Yup.”

  “You really are a crazy fucker,” he grunts.

  “Takes one to know one, Sniper,” I chuckle.

  Together, alone, Sniper and I straddle our bikes, starting their engines before we head toward our first destination. I called Sniper yesterday and asked him for help. Sure, MadDog has his own guy who he uses as a sniper for attacks, but Sniper is my brother from home, and I know his work. We work well together, and I need to fully trust the man who is going to be with me tonight.

  We park our bikes a few blocks away from the neighborhood we plan on igniting. The Cartel is really fuckin’ stupid. They buy entire neighborhoods and plant their highest men in them. I say as much to Kirill, who has driven from Los Angeles as added aid.

  “We do it, too, sometimes,” he shrugs.

  “If you’re spread out, it’s harder to attack all at once,” I explain.

  “I can appreciate that tactic. More than one of our men have escape tunnels to adjoining houses or to a different location, sometimes a different house on the next street,” he explains. My brows rise in surprise.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” he grins. “It’s come in handy more than once.”

  “I bet it fuckin’ has,” I chuckle.

  “What’s the plan?” he asks, all humor gone. Now, he’s in business mode.

  “Sniper’s gonna stay up on the roof in case something happens, then I’m going to break in and drop the explosives,” I say.

  “That’s your plan?” Kirill asks in surprise.

  “Got somethin’ better?” I ask.

  “It’s going to take you too long to break into every house. By the time the first explosion happens, the other guys will be out of bed,” he says. I nod. I didn’t want a bunch of men in on this, so my execution is pretty fucking bad.

  “Let my men get the doors open, and we’ll all throw the shit at once,” he suggests.

  “It’s unstable and dangerous,” I explain.

  “This is not a one-man job. Us being us means that we’re dangerous and unstable. You tell us how to handle it, and we’ll handle it,” he offers.

  “Goes for us, too,” MadDogs deep voice growls from behind us.

  “The fuck?” I ask, turning to face him.

  “You’re our brother. We don’t leave any man alone. Not like this,” he explains.

  I shake my head as men start surrounding me, around thirty in total, between the Russian’s and my brothers. I let out a puff of air before I give them detailed instructions on how to handle the TATP. Then I watch as half of them walk along the shadows of the street and start to open the doors of the known Cartel members that are just waiting for instructions on when and how to attack us.

  “They got women and kids in there?” I ask Kirill.

  “You really want to know?”

  “I’m not sure, but I feel like I should,” I say.

  “Their families aren’t in there. They’re in wherever their permanent hidey-holes are. They’re living in these crash pads waiting for orders. That doesn’t mean they won’t possibly have a whore for the night; no way to know that shit for sure,” he shrugs.

  “Okay then,” I mutter.

  “Fireworks time,” he announces, looking down at his phone.

  The men texted him each time a home was opened. Now it’s the Devil’s turn to blow some shit up. I look over to MadDog and he grins.

  “Time for some fuckers to die,” he says.

  “You’re ruthless, man,” I laugh.

  Together, ten of us walk in the shadows, just like the Bratva men did, to get to our designated houses. The plan is to throw and run, then load on our bikes and head to a bar—a local bar where we’ll be noticed.

  The Russian’s won’t be joining us, though. They’ll be headed back home to Los Angeles. My phone buzzes and I know it’s time. I take my small bag and I throw it, running as hard as I can, feeling the heat at my back, and hearing the loud explosion as I do.

  As quickly as we can, we load onto our bikes and tear out of the neighborhood, hopeful that the explosions were enough distraction from our loud bikes cruising away from the hysteria.

  “That was fucking crazy. You’re a genius,” Camo says breathlessly as we suck back pulls of our beers a few minutes later.

  “Fuck,” I hiss. “I haven’t done anything like that in so long,” I grunt.

  “Last time was when The Bastards were still around,” Sniper chuckles.

  “You’re right,” I grin, reminiscing about the hand grenades I made to fuck up their clubhouse.

  “How’re you doin’, brother?” Sniper asks after a few beers.

  Most of the men are off flirting with women, playing pool, or throwing darts. Sniper and I both just observe.

  “Good. Really fuckin’ good,” I practically whisper.

  “Girls’ve been all worried about your ass. Promised Brent I’d check up with you while I was here,” he laughs.

  “I’ll bring Cleo up for a visit soon. They can get to know her better, and see with their own eyes that I’m good,” I offer with a shrug.

  “That works.”

  I feel lips touch my hip, then gently kiss a path from that hip to my shoulder. Next, hot hands travel the same path, except they skip my shoulder and wrap around my breast. I feel a hard length press against the crack of my ass, and I groggily try to open my eyes.

  Last night, Paxton didn’t come and pick me up from girl’s night until three in the morning. He wasn’t in a bad mood, but he wasn’t in a good mood, either. His mood was somber, and I could tell that he didn’t want to talk about whatever he’d done. I gave him that.

  We fell asleep, me pressed tight to his side and him just holding me. I wasn’t really sure how I felt about him not even trying to make love, but I didn’t want to push anything either, especially since he said he wanted to wait until I had clearance from a doctor.

  “Need you,” he whispers against my shoulder as his hand falls down to behind my knee and he spreads me wide. I suck in a breath when he enters me from behind in one swift thrust.

  “Pax,” I breathe, lifting my free arm to wrap it behind his neck.

  “My heaven,” he rumbles against my shoulder as his hand under my body moves to between my legs. I feel his fingers against my clit.

  “Paxton,” I whimper.

  “You are, Cleo. You’re my heaven,” he rasps. He moves inside of me while his fingers play my clit with lazy precision.

  I close my eyes and relax my back against his chest. Paxton surrounds me, he fills me, and I’ve never felt so close to him in my life. My need for him rivals his need for me. There is nobody else on this earth for me but him. He’s my everything. He’s my heaven, too.

  “Thank you,” I whisper as I feel my body climbing closer toward my release.

  Paxton grunts behind me as his fingers tighten around the back of my knee, and he thrusts harder, his cock pounding me from behind, his fingers playing me exquisitely.

  “For?” he asks on a growl.

  “For being my everything,” I whisper before I arch my spine and push back against him with a long whimper as I come. I come so hard that my body is frozen still.

  “Fuck,” he hisses.

  I feel myself being rolled onto my stomach, and then he wrenches my hips back before he starts fucking me, hard and fast. He moves inside of me with such precision and strength, I know that I’ll feel him between my legs for at least a whole day, maybe two, afterward.

  I reach forward and fist the bedding in my hands as I rear back, meeting his thrusts. I’m climbing again, climbing toward a second release, and I want it—I need it.

  “Fucking shit,
” he growls as his hand fists in the back of my hair. He yanks me toward him as he pushes into me.

  I slip one of my hands between my legs to bring myself closer toward my building release, wanting nothing more than to topple over the edge again. I need it. I need it like I need my next breath.

  “Come, sweetheart, come around me,” Paxton urges. It’s as if his words alone push me closer. When I fall over, I do it with a scream.

  “Shit, fuck, shit,” he curses.

  His fingers tighten around my hips. He jerks me back into him two more times before he stills with a moan.

  In my next breath, I feel his chest press against my back. His cock is inside me, his body pressing mine into the mattress, his lips on my Torch tattoo—it’s bliss.

  “I didn’t get to play with your pretty piercings,” he whispers against my skin as he continues to glide in and out of me.

  “Next time,” I promise.

  “Yeah, sweetheart. Next time. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he murmurs.

  “I’m perfect,” I sigh. “Everything go okay last night?” I ask as I reach behind me and slide my fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck.

  “Yeah, baby, it all went good.”

  “I’m glad. I was worried,” I whisper.

  “Love that you were worried about me, Clee.”

  “What happens next?” I ask.

  “We live our lives, sweetheart. You here with me, in my life, in my bed; and soon, having my babies.”

  “Pax,” I exhale.

  “You got work today?” he asks.

  “No,” I whisper.

  “Then we fuck all day. Need to be inside my sweetheart all fuckin’ day,” he grunts, pushing his hips against me.

  “All day?” I ask.

  “Gonna fuck you, eat you, fuck you some more. You’re gonna fuck me, suck my cock, and fuck me some more.”

  “Paxton, I won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” I giggle. Unfortunately, I lose him when I do.

  “Good. You can’t move tomorrow, we’ll just play today on repeat.”

  “You’re crazy,” I say, rolling beneath him so that I can look into his stormy blue eyes.

  “Crazy, and crazy for you, Cleo,” he grins, pressing his lips to my nose. “Spent too many years bein’ a dumb fuck. Now I want back inside my baby as often as I can be.”

  I bite my bottom lip at his words, trying and failing to hide my smile. He grins back at me, and his lips brush against mine before he kisses down the column of my neck. When his tongue touches one of my nipple piercings, I shiver as I arch my back closer to him.

  “Baby,” I sigh, spreading my thighs even wider.

  “Goddamn,” he groans.

  He lavishes my other breast with the same attention he gave the first, gently tugging on my piercing before his mouth descends down the center of my stomach, then his tongue touches my clit.

  “Paxton, no,” I beg as I try to put my hands between my legs.

  “Stop,” he grunts.

  My hands freeze next to my hips, and I watch as he rises slightly. Then he pushes two fingers inside of me, curling them when he does. It makes my eyes roll in the back of my head.

  “You look so fucking beautiful with my cum leaking out of your pussy,” he whispers.

  Then he pulls his fingers from inside of me and lines my lips with them before he shoves them in my mouth. I moan as I suck the evidence of our sexy morning from them, our mixture tasting better than I imagined.

  “Get over here and suck me until I’m hard so I can fuck that tight pussy again, sweetheart,” he growls.

  I don’t even hesitate. I adjust myself so that I’m on my knees, and I lower my face, my tongue snaking out to taste the tip of him.

  “Love you,” I whisper, looking at him through my lashes.

  “Never loved anybody the way I love you, Cleo,” he rasps.

  We spend the entire day exactly as he wanted to—in bed, having sex. We have so much sex that I feel it for the next week in every move I make.

  I love this man, and I never thought I would have him again. Then when I did, I never thought that I would have all of him. Now that I do, I’m so happy that it’s almost terrifying. If something happened, I don’t know what I would do.

  “You packed up, babe?” I ask as I walk into the bedroom.

  Cleo is standing in nothing but a pair of panties and her bra, her wet hair hanging down her neck and back, an open suitcase on the bed.

  “I don’t know what to pack,” she explains.

  “Clothes, sweetheart,” I chuckle.

  “Yes, but what kind? I’ve never been on your bike, and now you’re saying we’re going all the way to another state on it. What do I pack?” she whines.

  “Sweetheart. There’re stores in Bonner’s Ferry; not many, but a couple. There’s also a whole slew of Old Ladies that will help you out if you need somethin’. They know we’re comin’ on my bike, so they know you won’t have everything you need. We’re not going to any fancy balls. Shorts, jeans, some tanks and a coupla shirts will be fine,” I mutter as I wrap my arms around her from behind.

  “I can’t talk to you,” she sighs.

  “Why?” I ask, chuckling against her neck.

  “You’re not a woman. You don’t understand. I’m going to be meeting your childhood friends, Paxton. I can’t look lazy, I have to have cute stuff to meet them in.”

  “You think Brentlee, Kentlee and all of them give one fuck how you dress?” I ask in confusion.

  “Uh, yeah, I do.”

  “You’re fuckin’ crazy, my crazy woman,” I grunt.

  “I’m not crazy. I want to look good, but I don’t have anything,” she sighs. I turn her around in my arms. “They all look comfortable, like complete biker babes, and I’m just… not.”

  “Biker babe?” I ask fighting a smile.

  “Lisandro reminded me that I look nothing like the other Old Ladies. I wear pencil skirts and satin blouses and work in a high-end jewelry store. I don’t really look like an Old Lady,” she explains. My eyes widen.

  “Sweetheart, Kentlee is girlie. Bentlee is even more girlie. Hattie’s a young, cute little thing, but she’s girlie. None of them look like biker babes,” I explain. “The Old Ladies here don’t look like biker babes, either,” I point out.

  “Colleen does,” she states.

  “Calm down, just be you. I don’t love a badass biker babe, I love you, Cleo Hill, my sweetheart.”

  “Damnit, that was really sweet,” she whispers, wrapping her hands around my neck and pressing her soft tits against my chest.

  “You look at me like that a second longer, I’ll show you how sweet I’m not,” I warn as I drop my hand and squeeze her panty covered ass.

  “I need to pack,” she grins.

  “Yeah, baby, you do,” I grunt. “I’ll be back in ten. Be ready to roll.”

  I walk out of the bedroom, mainly because if I don’t, I’m gonna fuck her again. We need to get on the road. We’re heading to Idaho today; but since this is the first time Cleo will have been on my bike, I’m taking the trip slow.

  She groans as she falls face first on the cheap hotel comforter. I can’t help but chuckle, though I do feel badly for her all at the same time.

  “Don’t laugh,” she says, turning her head to glare at me.

  “Shower and I’ll give you a massage,” I rumble.

  “No, you gave me a massage last night, and we both know how that turned out,” she smarts off.

  I did give her a massage last night. About two seconds into massaging that full ass of hers, I couldn’t help myself. I ate her from behind until she came; then I fucked her until we both came.

  “You bitchin’ about two orgasms?” I ask, lifting my brows.

  Cleo rolls her lips and shakes her head slightly. I grunt and take my clothes off, irritated that she’d bitch about getting’ fucked so good she came twice. I decide to leave her alone, hoping it’s only her sore ass from the ride that’s making her bitchy.
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br />   I let the warm water from the shower wash over me, washing my hair and massaging my own tired muscles. Then there’s a burst of cool air, and small hands wrap around me from behind.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers as she places her lips against my back. “I’ve never traveled like this before. I’ve never been this sore and uncomfortable before, and I’m sorry.”

  I grunt and turn around in her arms, the water now cascading against my back. My head dips down and my eyes focus on hers. Without saying a word, I press my lips against her mouth as my fingers wrap around her waist, and I pick her up, pressing her back against the shower wall.

  “Paxton,” she whispers as her head falls back. One of her hands grasps the hair at the nape of my neck while the other holds onto my shoulder as her legs wrap around my middle.

  Moving one of my hands from her waist, I cup her tit and give it a hard squeeze, watching her eyes widen. Then the sexiest, throaty moan escapes from her lips. My rock hard cock presses against her entrance, and I guide myself inside of her, letting her tight, wet heat surround me.

  “Cleo,” I groan as I stay planted deep inside of her.

  “I was a bitch,” she whispers.

  “Fuck that, you been ridin’ hard, sweetheart,” I murmur before I pull out and thrust inside of her.

  She feels so fuckin’ good wrapped around my cock, I don’t want to ever leave this spot. I gently tug her nipple right before I squeeze the little pink bud hard, my hips moving so that my cock glides in and out of her with long, precise strokes. I don’t want to blow my load immediately; though with her, it would be pretty fuckin’ easy to do.

  “You feel so good,” she says as her head rolls to the side.

  “You do too, baby,” I mutter as I press my lips against hers.

  I take her a little harder, my pelvis grinding against her clit as I do, listening to the whimpers that fill my mouth with each thrust. Goddamn. How I even went without this for so fuckin’ long, I’ll never know. Her fingers tighten in my hair, her body locks around me, and that’s when her pussy spasms and clenches even tighter with her release.