I nod, noticing a fierceness in her eyes. I don’t know details of my sister’s life these past six years, but there’s something that has happened to her, or something she’s seen. She isn’t the same Kentlee she was all those years ago. There’s something else there.
“What happened?” I ask, thinking out loud.
“That, little sister, is a story for alcohol and dessert,” she smiles.
I leave her in the car to go inside of the club and start my night.
I have to make this dessert and booze night soon. I need to know exactly what my sister has been through. I need to understand everything. Maybe we aren’t so different, my sister and me.
Sniper
I watch her from the corner. She didn’t see me slip in and I’m grateful for that. I’m not spying to be a dick, not really, I just like to watch her. She smiles at Grizz, who takes the offered shot glass from her hand and downs the jack. I can tell some of the heaviness is beginning to lift from her. Her smile is brighter. I feel like a fuckin’ pussy, but all I have ever wanted was for Brentlee to be happy.
My phone rings in my pocket and I slip it out. Mary-Anne.
“Little sister,” I greet as a smile tugs on my lips.
“I heard you have some news for me,” she says. I can tell she’s smiling on the other end.
“I do?” I ask, knowing damn well she’s referring to Brent. Odds are, Kentlee called her the minute Brentlee moved in with me. Knowing my sister, she bided her time and now she wants details.
“Don’t be an asshole,” she murmurs. It makes me laugh.
“Don’t act like you don’t already know,” I point out, which causes her to chuckle on the line.
“Okay, how about I just ask this. Are you happy?”
I pause for a moment. Taking in the question. Truly thinking about it.
Am I happy? Fuck yes, I am.
Could I be happier? Always.
That doesn’t mean that Brent doesn’t make me happy, because she sure as fuck does. But having her with my name inked on her body, my ring on her finger, and my baby inside of her—that would make me happier. For now, though, yeah, I’m fuckin’ happy.
“Shit’s goin’ good, Mary-Anne,” I admit.
“Be good to her, Bates. She deserves everything you can give her. But don’t let her hurt you, either, because you deserve the best,” she says.
“I’m not as good as I used to be, Mary. I don’t deserve her anymore,” I confess. She sighs.
“You’re too hard on yourself.”
“How’s Cali?” I ask, changing the subject.
I don’t want to talk about how undeserving of Brentlee I am. Mary-Anne doesn’t need to know all of the truths that hide inside of my head; all the nightmares, and horror I’ve seen.
“Awesome. I met someone. We’re going to come out there in a few months. I want you to meet him,” she says excitedly. As much as I want to warn her off of him, mainly because he has a dick, I can’t. She sounds good, happy, and after the hellish childhood she’s endured, she deserves all of the happiness she can get.
“Can’t wait,” I say before we say our goodbyes and I hang up.
My eyes go back to Brentlee, who is serving a beer to Torch. He grins at her, but he doesn’t look anywhere but her face. He doesn’t touch her or flirt, he just talks and laughs. I don’t mind that. I have to let some shit go. So she fucked him ten years ago, what kind of asshole am I to hold that over her head? As long as he keeps his dick away from her now, I can’t get too fuckin’ pissed about it. Even though I want to beat the shit out of him, nobody can predict the future, and how would he or I have known this is where we’d end up?
“Hey, baby,” a sweet voice from my left whispers.
I look down and notice it’s Star. Long dark hair, big fake tits. The girl I’ve fucked so many times I’ve lost count, mainly because she reminded me of Brentlee. Though in reality, Star couldn’t hold a candle to Brent in any way, shape, or form. She just resembles her, slightly.
“Star,” I grunt.
Star, aptly named because she became a star in the clubhouse within days of her arrival. She sucks good cock, spreads everything, and she’s good at it all. She also rivals anything Kitty, our old clubhouse slut star, ever did. She loves giving us a show with the other sluts, and is always down for whatever. She’s my favorite whore.
“She’s really pretty,” Star says, wrapping her red painted fingernails around my forearm. I can’t help my cock from stirring. Those fuckin’ fingers always feel good on my dick; he totally knows what’s up.
“She is,” I grunt.
“You know I’d be willing, Sniper,” she offers. I look down at her, lifting a brow.
“Yeah, that’s kind of your job,” I say, smirking.
“You want us both, right here, in front of everybody. I know your kink, baby. Does she?” she asks. My back goes straight.
My eyes go back to Brentlee, who is busily serving drinks to my brothers, oblivious to this conversation I’m having with Star. I turn my head back down to look at her. Innocent looking, but far from it, Star is one of the dirtiest bitches I’ve ever fucked.
“You won’t be able to have that sweet closed-door-bedroom fucking for very long, Sniper. What happens when you have a nightmare? Is she going to let her use you the way I do?”
“Shut the fuck up,” I grind out, hating the fact that she’s right.
I can’t do to Brentlee all the things I want to. She’s been violated and hurt, no way is she going to let me use her body to cope with my own hell. I would never ask her for it, either.
“You know where to find me when you need me,” she purrs as she slides her hand down my arm and over to my dick, cupping me and squeezing over my jeans. I couldn’t hide the semi I’m sporting even if I wanted to.
“Yeah, I know exactly where you’ll be,” I grunt.
Star walks away from me, her ass swaying in her mini skirt. Every now and then, one of her cheeks peeks out the bottom and I can’t stop my groan of appreciation. She’s pretty, not as gorgeous as Brentlee, but there’s no denying Star isn’t a hot piece and a hot fuck.
“Playin’ with fire, brother,” Dirty Johnny says, walking up to me with a cigarette hanging from his lips, as always.
“Yeah?” I halfheartedly ask.
“Star wants to be your Old Lady. She sees Brent livin’ in your pad. She’s gonna try and get between you both and she’s going to try her damndest,” he says, blowing out a cloud of smoke.
“Don’t matter. I only want Brent,” I say, not believing my own fucking words, and feeling like a prick for it.
“Yeah, okay,” he says, taking a step away from me. He stops and tips his head to the side, his cold eyes focused on mine. “Brentlee’s eaten shit for a while, brother. Give it to her straight. You want her, that’s cool, make sure she’s getting all of you at the same time.”
I watch Dirty Johnny as he walks away from me and toward another whore. He grabs her hand without missing a beat, and then they disappear toward the rooms. I shift my gaze back to Brentlee, who is now looking at me, a look of confusion plastered all over her features. My breath hitches and I panic at what she could have seen.
I push off of the wall and make my way toward her.
Apparently, I have some fuckin’ shit to come clean about. This conversation is better had in my room here, not at home, and not in front of my brothers.
Brentlee
It’s hard not to feel Bates when he walks through the door. There is a charge in whatever room he enters. It follows him. I know the exact moment he slips inside of the clubhouse, and I can feel his eyes on me, watching me. I pretend not to notice him leaning against the wall. It’s hard, but I succeed for the most part. My eyes fail as they keep drifting over to him for a glimpse every so often.
I watch as he talks on his phone. He’s all smiles, and it makes my belly quiver. How can he be so damn gorgeous? Then, my belly falls to the floor when one of the clubwhores walks over to him. S
tar. I’ve heard her praises sung throughout the clubhouse the past two days. She’s their pride and joy, or at least her mouth, pussy, and ass are.
I hold my breath as she talks to Bates, her hand on his arm. He’s looking down at her, conversing. He smirks at her and there is a familiarity I hate in their actions. They’ve fucked. Of course they have. She’s a whore and that’s what she’s here for. I grind my teeth together as her hand goes to his dick. Bates makes no move to remove her from his body. I hate it. I am so jealous that I see nothing but red.
“That don’t mean a fuckin’ thing, darlin’,” Grizz says to me. I turn to face him, willing myself to get some fucking control.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie.
“These whores, you’ll learn, they don’t mean shit,” he states. I gape at him.
“So Fury? Even though he’s married?” I ask in shock.
“Fury? Fuck, no. Kentlee wouldn’t be down for that. Me? Shit’s happened. My wife has always known the way it is. Kind of like Vegas around these parts. What happens in the clubhouse stays in the clubhouse. Maybe you think that’s wrong? But here, the rules are different. This isn’t like civilian life out there,” he motions at the doors that lead outside to the parking lot.
“My soon-to-be ex-husband fucked who he wanted, when he wanted,” I admit.
Speaking that out loud is still hard for me. But there is also something freeing in accepting that he cheated on me. He fucked around, and he fucked me up, and I’m still here to tell the tale. I close my eyes for a second and try to gather my thoughts. Can I live to tell the tale if Bates fucks around? He wanted exclusivity, but how long will that last? A week, a month, a year?
“Then you know the score right, dalrin’? What happens in here, it doesn’t mean he don’t love you. It doesn’t mean he don’t want only you. It just means he needs to get laid. Can’t fault a man for having a good time,” Grizz shrugs before he taps the bar top and walks away.
I hate his words.
Every single one of them.
I look back at Bates and our eyes lock on each other. I can’t read his expression, but I don’t care. I don’t want to. I’ll never be more than a burden, dependent on him, on any man. I’m Bates’ whore at home. Nothing more. He’ll come here when I’m not working and fuck Star, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ll have to accept it. Take it. My price for protection against Scotty.
“C’mon,” Bates murmurs to me, holding out his hand. I don’t respond as I place my own hand in his. There’s nothing to say, not really.
I let him lead me toward the bedrooms without protest. Once we’re inside of his room, I look around. It’s messy and unkempt. Clothes strewn about and trashcans overflowing. A complete bachelor’s pad. It even smells, and I wonder when the last time he cleaned was. Gross.
“We have to talk,” he says, locking the door behind him and wrapping his hands around my bare waist.
The touch of his warm hands on my sides sends a thrill through me. His touch, anywhere on my body, will always do that to me. It doesn’t matter how my brain and my heart feel, my body will always want him.
Brentlee
Talk.
That word. It never means anything good.
It never has. And it never will.
“Is this about Star?” I ask out of pure need. I don’t want him to beat around the bush.
“What about Star?” he asks, looking down at me. He’s too close, he smells too fucking good. I want to lick and bite and suck.
“I saw her touching you,” I admit. His body goes rigid. “It’s okay. I know you said we’re exclusive, but I also know about the clubhouse and what happens here with the whores and you guys.”
“What do you know?” he growls, shaking me a bit. I look up and focus on those gorgeous dark eyes of his.
“I know it doesn’t mean you care for me less if you fuck them,” I whisper, unable to look away.
“Brent…” he starts. I put my finger up to his lips.
I don’t want to hear any promises that will surely be broken. I don’t want to hear how he’ll take care of me—I know that he will. I don’t need to do anything but accept what he’s offering, his protection against Scotty, and a chance to allow me to be free of that.
“Bates, I get it, okay? I’m a big girl…” I start. I am interrupted when his lips touch mine, effectively shutting me up.
“Shut up,” he grunts before he backs my body toward the bed. I fall back as soon as my legs crash into the side, and Bates lands on top of me.
“I don’t want what you think I do,” he starts. I open my mouth to ask him a question, but he narrows his eyes on me. I quickly shut my mouth and wait for him to finish.
“I have nightmares. I wake up and I need to fuck. It isn’t gentle and it isn’t sweet. It’s rough and I don’t want to hurt you,” he confesses as he moves one of his hands to cradle the back of my head. “I would rather die than hurt you like that, Brentlee. I, uh, also… I have certain appetites and I don’t know that you’d ever be okay with it.”
“Like?” I ask wide eyed. I need the whole truth before I can say this, whatever we have, can really continue. I need to know.
“I like to have threesomes in public,” he says in complete seriousness.
I look at him for a long beat. This is Bates. I can’t believe he’s telling me this. The man who didn’t want anybody to see me stripping at Devils is telling me he wants to, instead, fuck me in public.
“So, what? You want to fuck Star and me in the clubhouse for everyone to watch?” I ask, trying not be be defensive, even if that is exactly how I feel.
“You and Star. You, another brother, and me,” he shrugs.
“Get off of me,” I grind out. Bates shakes his head, unmoving.
“Baby, I told you I wasn’t the same boy. I’m a man now. I know what I like.” I look into his eyes, waiting for an apology to cross his features, but it doesn’t. He is completely unapologetic for his kinks.
“So you’re telling me, you chastised me and became angry with me for fucking a couple of your brothers ten years ago, but you’re okay with me fucking them as long as you’re doing it, too?” I ask, trying to keep my voice low and even. Probably failing miserably.
“I meant it when I said you’d take no other dick in your pussy or your ass,” he grinds out. I push him off of me and he goes willingly.
“What do you want, then? What’s the point of this conversation? Do you want to fuck me roughly? Hurt me? Do it. I don’t care. You can’t do anything to me that hasn’t already been done, Bates. Do you want me to perform a threesome with you and some whore? Do you want permission to fuck whores? What exactly do you want?” I scream out in frustration.
“I don’t know,” he yells back. “I don’t know. I want you, Brentlee. I want every part of you. But I have needs and I don’t know when they’ll surface. I also don’t know what exactly they’ll entail,” he admits.
“I don’t know that I can fulfill them,” I shakily admit. I watch as he props his elbows on his knees and cradles his face in his hands.
“I know,” I admit. “I shouldn’t have fucked you. I shouldn’t have, but I did and I can’t let you go,” he murmurs before he lifts his head and turns his neck to face me.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you’re mine.”
“This cannot work. It will destroy us both,” I whisper as I stand.
Bates doesn’t let me get far. His arm shoots out and his hand wraps around my waist pulling me between his legs. I stumble and have to put my hands on his shoulders for support. He looks up at me, the haunted eyes I’m so afraid of staring at me. His demons are so fucking dark, it frightens me.
“You leave me, and that will destroy me, Brentlee,” he mutters.
“Bates…” I say.
He shakes his head and stands before he moves around me, his front to my back. I feel his lips on my shoulder. I feel him pepper kisses from my shoulder to my
spine and then I gasp when his hand swiftly and intensely pushes my chest onto the mattress. I gasp when I suddenly feel him rip my pants down to my thighs.
“No more, Brentlee. You’re not even going to think about leaving me. I won’t let you,” he grinds out, his breath fanning the bare skin of my ass.
I cry out when I feel his hand make contact with my left cheek.
“Shut up,” he growls. I snap my mouth closed. “You even think about leaving me again, about writing me off, I’ll do more than spank this gorgeous ass of yours.”
He spanks my other cheek before he repeats the move again, only in a different spot. Tears begin to fall down my cheeks when he’s on his eighth blow against my backside. He pauses behind me, and I think that it’s over, that he’s finished, but the burning sensation of his hand meeting my upper thigh proves me wrong.
“No more,” I plead through my sobs.
“One more,” he promises as his hand connects the top of my other thigh.
I whimper when I feel two of his fingers slide through my center. I hear him hum behind me before he thrusts those fingers deep inside of me.
“You’re crying, but your pussy’s wet, baby,” he whispers against my shoulder before he nips my skin.
I don’t respond to him. I don’t tell him that I’m used to pain with sex. I’m used to always hurting. He’s like Scotty, in a way; except, he doesn’t hide his brutish activities behind a suit. No, he’s a walking advertisement for it. I was fooling myself to think he was any different.
I feel my hips being tipped, and then, before I can take another breath, he’s inside of me. I hear him sigh above me once he’s fully seated, and I pinch my eyes closed, waiting for his brutal forceful fucking. I can take it—I’ve taken it all before.
“Brentlee, you’re my tigritsa. Don’t ever forget that. I am me, I can’t change that. However, I’ll always be good to you, baby, always,” he murmurs before he sweeps my hair to the side and tips his head to look at me in the eyes. “You’re mine.”
Rough & Raw (Notorious Devils Book 2) Page 11
