“Not when you treat her the way you did in front of me,” she says. I sigh.
“Touché,” I chuckle.
“What are you doing here?”
“Aside from seeing one of my favorite blonde bombshells?” I offer with a smirk. Kentlee rolls her eyes but with a smile tugging on her lips. “I came to see Stella.”
“She misses you,” Kent says. I nod.
“Fucked up with her mama, but fucked up with her, too,” I admit.
Kentlee nods toward Bear’s bedroom and I turn to walk in that direction. I can hear her following me, and when I step into the doorway, I can’t hold back my smile. Stella’s sitting in front of Bear, her blonde hair in curly pigtails, and a row of motorcycles lined up in front of her.
“Stella,” I clear my throat, unable to watch her a moment longer without giving her a hug.
She looks like she’s grown in the few weeks I haven’t seen her. I watch as her head whips up and her blue eyes widen. Then she gives me the greatest gift of all. She smiles.
“Bates,” she cries as she scrambles to her feet. She runs toward me, barreling into my arms at a million miles an hour. I chuckle and lift her up before I plant a kiss on her cheek.
“I missed you,” she whispers as she takes my bearded cheeks with her tiny, little hands.
“I missed you, too, malyshka,” I easily admit.
“You come home now,” she demands.
“Yes,” I say. Kentlee clears her throat.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she mutters under her breath. I prop Stella on my hip before I turn my neck to face Kent.
“I’ll be there. I may not be sleeping where I want to be, but I’ll be there,” I say, keeping it PG.
“Yeah?” she asks, not giving anything way, keeping her face hard.
“Yup. Meant it when I said I was gonna work for it, babe,” I grunt.
“Good,” she nods.
I spend the next hour playing with Stella and Bear, spending much needed time with my little malyshka. Kentlee announces lunch for the kids, and I decide that it’s my time to leave them. Before I walk out of the door, her hand is wrapped around my forearm.
“Treat my sister right, Bates. You both deserve happiness,” she says, grinning at me.
“I want her to be so happy.” I admit.
“Then work for it, prove it, and do it,” she says. I nod and leave them.
I drive to a sandwich shop and pick up some lunch for Brent and myself before I go back to my house. When I walk inside, she’s exactly where I left her, except she’s sleeping and it takes my breath away. She looks so young, innocent, and so fuckin’ gorgeous.
How could I ever even think about leaving her?
I’m such a goddamn fool.
I leave her asleep and put her food in the fridge before I head to the garage to work on my truck a little. I don’t want to wake her up, and I need something to do with my hands.
Brentlee
I hear a noise and it startles me awake. I lie in bed for a few moments and wipe the sleep from my eyes. Looking over at the bedside clock, I notice that it’s four in the afternoon. I get out of bed and wash my face, take care of business, and head out to the living area. Stella will be home soon, and I should eat a little something. My stomach growls in agreement.
When I step into the kitchen, I chance looking out the window, and am surprised by what I see. The garage door is open, but that isn’t what surprises me. No, Bates, shirtless and working under the hood of his truck is what makes my mouth water. I watch as his hands work on the engine. Each muscle in his back moves, bunching and relaxing. I shiver. He’s so freaking big, it still surprises me, still turns me on— though, I don’t think any red blooded American woman could look at him and not be turned on.
I grab a plastic cup from the cabinet and fill it with ice and water. Surely, he’ll want something to drink, and I want to know why he’s still here. I slip on a pair of sandals and walk out to where Bates is working.
“I brought you water,” I say, clearing my throat.
He lifts his head from the truck and squints into the sunlight. He has sweat and some grease on his face. I have to clench my thighs together at how freaking sexy he looks.
“Thanks,” he sighs, setting his tools down and taking the cup from my hands.
I shamelessly watch as he drinks the liquid, working it down his throat. I have to bite back a moan.
“You’re welcome,” I mumble.
“I bought you a sandwich, it’s in the fridge.” He lifts his chin toward the house and I look at him in surprise.
“What are you doing here?” I blurt out. He shakes his head once, but when his eyes meet mine, I am taken aback by the depth, the longing, and the sadness I see shining in them.
“Gonna work at getting you back, baby. I don’t have to sleep in your bed to do that, but I won’t be sleeping anywhere but this house, either,” he announces.
“Bates…” I exhale.
“Ain’t givin’ up, tigritsa,” he murmurs. I sigh and turn from him, stopping before I take even a step away, whispering a thanks for the lunch.
“Thank you for the water.” He winks, and I leave him to work on his pickup outside in the warm sunshine.
A few hours later, Kentlee is at my door with my Stella. She smiles at me knowingly, and I roll my eyes.
“He came to see me,” she murmurs when she gives me a hug goodbye.
“And?” I ask.
“He said he’s going to put the work in to fix everything,” she says, almost repeating his words verbatim.
“Yeah,” I sigh.
Kentlee leaves and I can’t help but sigh. He isn’t going to give up easily, but he’ll give up eventually. Bates has already proven through a hurdle that he’ll bail. I just need to remember that and not let my vagina or my heart take control of me.
I’m not very good at that—at controlling myself—but for my sanity’s sake, I need to. I don’t want to watch him walk away again, and I don’t want to be on the receiving end of a drunken rampage. I’m too fucking tired for it.
“LeeLee just leave?” Bates asks, walking through the backdoor.
“Yeah, she was dropping off Stella,” I say with a shrug.
“Hey, malyshka,” he offers, pinching her nose slightly.
“Hi,” she grins before she runs off to her room.
I expected more of a reaction from her, since it’s been weeks since she’s seen him. The look on my face must show my confusion.
“Went to talk to LeeLee after you fell asleep earlier this afternoon. Spent an hour hanging with Stella and Bear. Played cars and shit,” he shrugs as he washes the grease and oil from his hands. I blink in surprise.
“Missed her, too,” he whispers. I close my eyes before bowing my head. “Missed both my girls,” he continues as he wraps his hand around my lower back.
He’s in front of me and I can smell him, smell his scent, his sweat, his oil and grease. I want him. I want him to take me and own me all over again. One day in his presence, and I’m ready to spread my legs for him. I am such a fucking idiot.
“Bates,” I say with a shaky voice.
“Let’s just relax tonight. No talking, no drama, just you and me and Stella. Maybe watch a movie?” he suggests.
I look up at him. He’s grinning and he looks so handsome, so unbelievably handsome. I nod, unable to speak.
“You spend some time with Stella, I’ll make dinner.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he shakes his head once, effectively shutting me up. I step away from him and look at him for a beat. Neither of us speak, we just take each other in.
I’m soaking in the fact that he’s here, in front of me, offering to make me dinner and take care of me. I can already tell that he’s going to be working hard for me to accept him back. I’m already wavering, already wondering how long I can keep him at arm’s length.
Bates makes Stella and me ribs, corn on the cob, and fries. It feels like a very
manly meal—starch, meat and potatoes—but I don’t complain. It’s sweet. After the week of no sleep I’ve endured, it’s nice to be taken care of a little bit. We settle in on the sofa, Stella in between us as we watch a cartoon movie. Princess and the Frog, chosen by Stella, of course.
Bates’ arm rests along the backside of the sofa, and I almost moan when I feel his fingers tangle in my hair and gently begin to massage my neck and scalp. He doesn’t tug on the strands; he just massages me.
I try with everything inside of me not to look over at him. I can only hold off for about five minutes, and then I quickly glance over at him. He’s just watching the movie, completely unaware of how turned on he’s making me. Or maybe he knows, but he doesn’t care?
I bite my bottom lip and try to keep from moaning, or sighing, or making any noise at all whatsoever. He spends the entire length of the movie torturing me, and by the small smile tipped on his lips, he knows it, too.
Once the movie is finished, I jump to my feet and announce that it’s time for Stella to go to bed. Bates follows behind us and offers to read her a story before bedtime. I’m surprised, but I let him. I sit on the bed and listen to his sexy gruff voice read about princes and princesses. I close my eyes and just let his voice consume me.
“C’mon, mama,” he murmurs as I feel my body being lifted into the air.
“What…” I exhale, opening my eyes. He’s carrying me toward my bed.
“You passed the fuck out,” he announces as he sets me down on the soft mattress.
“I haven’t been sleeping well,” I admit.
“Get some rest, baby. I’ll be on the couch if you need me, yeah?”
I nod and watch him go. He closes the door behind him and I just stare. He didn’t try a thing, not a single thing. Granted, this is only night one, but I expected something. A kiss—something. I don’t understand my disappointment; I should be glad that I didn’t have to fight him off.
I’m a complete disaster.
I huff before I change into my pajamas and open my bedroom door before I slip into bed. I like to have the door open in case Stella wakes up. I want to be able to hear her. I sigh as I curl into a ball and close my eyes.
I want to be able to trust Bates, but I don’t think that will ever happen, and that—that is why we will never work out. I need to trust him and he needs me to trust him. Without trust, I can’t be in his life, I can’t be by his side. Kentlee trusts Fury one hundred percent. You can see it in just how they look at each other.
I want that, he needs that.
We’re a freaking disaster.
Sniper
I watch her from afar. She can see me. I’m not hiding, just watching.
Brentlee is working, and I’m waiting until her shift is over to take her home.
It’s been a week since I came back to her. Apologized to her. Started sleeping on the couch every night.
A week since I’ve had hard liquor.
It’s been hands down the best week of my life.
I didn’t think I could have a week with no sex be the best. But it has been. I’ve been spending every waking moment with my girls, in one way or another, and I couldn’t be happier. Well, I lie. Sex would make it just that much better, but I can wait. I want Brentlee sure of me, of us, before we go there again. I shouldn’t have pushed it the first time; it was too soon, for both of us.
“You cool?” Vault asks as he takes the seat next to mine.
“I am. The coolest,” I joke.
“You back in there?” he asks, lifting his chin to Brent. She is serving Buck a shot of tequila and laughing at something the dirty old fuck has to say, no doubt.
“No, not yet,” I admit with a shrug.
I don’t need to be back there, though. I’m good. Real fuckin’ good. Slow is something both of us need. I haven’t had a nightmare since my shit’s calmed down, and Brentlee seems better, healthier. She’s put on some weight, and the dark circles are gone from beneath her eyes. She’s never looked more beautiful.
“You will be,” he says. I tear my eyes away from Brentlee to look at him, arching a brow in question.
“You two are like fuckin’ magnets, brother,” he grunts before he slaps my shoulder and walks away. I turn back to Brentlee and our eyes connect. She doesn’t move, except to offer me a shy smile.
Magnets.
Two people that have a powerful attraction.
We are that.
Magnetic.
I’m drawn to her and she to me.
“Hey, baby,” the sweet voice of Star says. It makes me cringe. I take my eyes off of Brentlee to face her. I don’t say a word.
“Haven’t seen you much lately,” she says, taking Vault’s vacated seat.
“What do you want?” I bark, annoyed with her.
“I’m here for you. Anything you need, I’m yours,” she says, pushing her tits together and leaning forward to give me a view—a view I don’t fuckin’ want.
“I don’t want anything of yours, Star. Don’t you fuckin’ get that?” I ask.
“Well, I just wanted to tell you. It doesn’t seem like Brentlee is really all that into you anymore,” she shrugs. Her eyes shift up to where Brentlee is, proving she’s calculated, as if I didn’t already know.
“Wouldn’t matter if Brent didn’t want me. I don’t want you. Never did,” I grunt as I stand.
“I know the score, Sniper. Brand me and I’ll make sure you’re always happy, no matter who your cock slides into,” she pleads.
“Thought you didn’t want me?” I ask arching a brow.
She shrugs, not giving me a verbal answer.
It’s pathetic, needy, and just plain sad. She’s searching for somebody, for something, but it ain’t me. I’ve found my somebody. Brentlee.
“Doesn’t matter what you offer me, Star. I don’t fuckin’ want it. Got everything I want right there behind that bar,” I state. She opens her mouth, but I don’t give her a chance to spew any shit.
Instead, I turn toward Brentlee and see red at the sight in front of me.
She’s leaned over the bar, her tits on full view for Dirty Johnny as she says something to him with a huge smile on her face. He reaches over the bar and touches her shoulder. I charge, without a fuckin’ word, and walk behind the bar, picking her up and throwing her over my shoulder.
Fuck. This. Shit.
“Bates,” she cries as her hands grab onto my belt.
“Shut the fuck up,” I grind out before I slap her ass. Then, because I can’t help myself, I grab a handful of her perfect ass.
I open my truck door and throw her ass inside. I grin when she bounces in her seat. Then, I slam the door closed and run over to the driver side. I start the truck and speed out of the parking lot. She’s saying some shit to me, but I’m completely tuning her out. I’m just happy she’s talking. Even if it is screaming. She’s been like a scared pussycat the past week, afraid to say or do anything. Then she openly flirts with my brother, my friend, and a guy she’s fucked before.
Hell.to.the.fucking.no.
I drive out to the country, nowhere near my house, just a big open field I’ve gone to to think before in the past. I put the truck in park and stare out the windshield into the darkness ahead of us. I know there’s a pond out there somewhere, but I can’t remember how far. There are also trees and rocks and all kinds of shit.
“What the hell?” Brentlee screeches.
“You let him touch you,” I simply say, not looking anywhere but straight ahead.
Brentlee
“You let him touch you.”
His words ring throughout the quiet pick-up cab and I look at him in surprise.
“Bates,” I murmur.
I’m afraid to say anything else. I don’t know what to say. Star was talking to him, and I got jealous as hell. I started flirting with Johnny. He told me I was playing with fire; he knew what I was doing immediately, but I didn’t care.
“I’m fine with not being able to touch you right now
, Brentlee. But that doesn’t mean I can stand to watch another man anywhere near you,” he grumbles.
“You were talking to Star,” I begin. His hand flies up and wraps around the back of my neck, startling me. I stare at him in shock and surprise.
“I didn’t let that whore touch me. I wouldn’t. Not now, not ever again,” he says.
I search for the lie in his eyes, except I don’t find it. Truth. His eyes are swirling with nothing but the absolute truth.
“I…”
“You need time to trust me, that’s cool, baby. I get that. You don’t get time to get off with another dick. You’re still mine,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against mine.
“It was innocent,” I whisper.
“Bullshit. You were showin’ him your tits and flirting with him,” he barks. I back up, but don’t get far as his hand is still on the back of my neck.
“Fuck you. You had your dick shoved down Star’s throat. You don’t get to tell me anything,” I snarl. He grimaces.
I lift my arms to hit him, but his other hand wraps around my wrists and he pushes me down onto the seat. His hips between my legs.
“I love you, my tigritsa,” he whispers as he gently pushes his hardened, jean clad cock against my panties.
“I’m so fucking mad at you, Bates,” I cry as tears begin to leak from my eyes and down into my hair.
“I know, baby,” he murmurs before his lips crash against mine, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth.
I fight him for about two seconds, maybe three. Then I shamelessly moan and roll my hips up to meet his rough jeans.
“Forgive me for fucking up, baby,” he murmurs, kissing my jaw and neck.
I want to forgive him, but I can’t. A week of being a good boy doesn’t take away the way he treated me. I can’t forgive him, not yet, if ever.
“I can’t,” I truthfully admit. I feel his whole body sag on top of me before he sits up and rights himself.
“How can I make you?” he asks. It almost makes me laugh.
Rough & Raw (Notorious Devils Book 2) Page 22
