Rough & Rugged (Notorious Devils Book 3)

by Hayley Faiman

  “Yeah. At eight,” I say.

  Once I hear the toilet flush, I roll off of the bed and head to the bathroom myself. When we pass each other, he stops and wraps his hand around the back of my neck, pulling me into his naked chest. His head dips down and he places a gentle, sweet, kiss on my lips.

  “I’ll stay the night, yeah? Take you to work on my way out of town,” he murmurs as he touches the tip of my nose with his finger.

  I nod as my answer before he turns and walks back to my bed.

  I hurry to the bathroom to clean up and wash my hands. I look at myself in the mirror. My hair is messy, my makeup washed off, and there’s a red mark on the side of my neck where Johnny bit me. I now completely understand the term—freshly fucked. I look just like that—freshly fucked.

  I make my way back to my bedroom where Johnny is pulling his jeans over his hips. My steps falter at the sight of him getting dressed, until he turns to me with a cigarette hanging between his lips. I silently watch as he bends down and grabs his shirt, holding it out to me. I slip it on before he jerks his head in the direction of my living room, holding his hand out for me. I slip my hand in his and let him walk ahead of me, tugging me gently behind him until we’re outside.

  I stand away from him as he lights his cigarette and takes a long drag. Then he sits down on the only piece of furniture I have out here, an old metal chair that the tenants before me left. I never bothered to move it or to replace it with something else, since I hardly come out here.

  “Come over here, princess,” he murmurs.

  I step closer to him and can’t stop the giggle from escaping when he pulls me down to sit on his lap. After a moment, I throw my legs over his other thigh and rest my head on his chest. His free arm wraps around my back, and his hand curls around my ass while he takes slow drags from his cigarette, releasing the smoke off to the side, away from my face.

  “Is being a Notorious Devil always something you wanted?” I ask in a whisper. While I wait for his answer, I trace the crazy looking devil he has on his chest with my fingers.

  “I never thought I’d be anything. Maybe I’d get some kind of shit job here and there, scrape by like my parents,” he shrugs. I nuzzle my face into his neck and lift my head to kiss his earlobe.

  “Is that why you moved to Idaho? Your parents moved here?” I ask, trying to get to know him better.

  “I don’t talk about my parents or my past, princess. You want to know something about me, that’s cool. I don’t talk about anything before I moved to Bonners Ferry when I was fourteen. I don’t talk about my family, either. You gotta be okay with that because it’ll never change,” he announces. I feel my face heat with embarrassment.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, shifting away from him to stand and go inside.

  “Don’t leave,” he demands, tightening his arm to keep me in his lap.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” I murmur as I look down at my hands.

  “You didn’t. It’s just part of my life I don’t talk about. I try not to ever think about it and I don’t ever talk about it. You know where I was born, where I lived before here, that’s more than anybody else,” he says, his voice rugged, low, and raspy.

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  “Tell me about your dreams,” he suggests.

  I close my eyes and I tell him something that I’ve only ever told my parents, something they laughed at and told me to forget about. I tell him a dream of mine, something I have always wanted, something he’ll probably think is stupid.

  “I’ve always wanted to open a dessert bar,” I say, keeping my voice quiet and low.

  “A what?” he asks.

  “A regular bar, with drinks and maybe coffee too, but it also serves desserts instead of what someone would consider bar-food. I would have a case of desserts; and then on slow days, like Wednesdays or Sundays, I would have a dessert buffet to draw in traffic,” I explain excitedly as I sit up.

  “Who the fuck would go to that?” he asks with confusion written all over his face.

  I deflate. I completely deflate. It’s been my dream since I was ten years old. I’m an idiot. I don’t answer his question. I stare up into the night sky, trying to will my tears to stay at bay.

  “Hey, that was a dick thing to say, okay? You want to do that, then you should,” he says nudging me off of his lap as he snubs his cigarette out.

  I don’t respond. When will I ever learn? My dream is stupid. I need to forget it ever existed and just be happy with my place in life. I have a good job at the bank where I could advance easily, making it a career. I have my parents and Andy. Plus, now I have Johnny, for however long this lasts between us.

  “Let’s go to bed,” he mumbles.

  I follow him without saying a word. I can’t help but think about my dream; my dream that will never come to fruition; my dream that will die like the dreams of a million other people on earth. I watch as Johnny drops his pants and gets into my bed, the pink sheets surrounding him.

  “Shirt off, Hattie, come to bed,” he orders.

  I don’t hesitate as I grab the hem of his oversized shirt and peel it from my body before I drop it onto the floor by my feet. Then I crawl into bed and lie down next to Johnny’s warmth. He sighs as he wraps his arm around me and places a kiss on my shoulder.

  “Sleep, yeah?” he murmurs against my hair.

  “Yeah,” I whisper into the dark bedroom.

  I close my eyes and try not to think about the way he laughed at my dream. The way he refused to talk about his past, his parents, his own thoughts and feelings. I can’t help the sick feeling that he’s here for one thing and one thing only.

  Sex.

  Deep down, I knew it. I even offered it as a one-time thing. But now, now he’s spending the night, calling himself my man, and making me believe that we’re more. I can feel it in my gut that this is going to get ugly; at least for me. I need to try and figure out how to keep him out of my head, and most importantly, my heart.

  Johnny holds my hand as he walks me down the street toward the bank. My thoughts from last night about keeping him out of my head and heart are now obliterated and nonexistent. He’s there, in both places.

  This morning when I woke up, he was gone.

  I wanted to sit and stress, worry and possibly cry, but I didn’t have time. Instead, I got up and took a shower. By the time I was out of the shower, he was back, dressed and holding a bag with some donuts and coffee. I was shocked, but I didn’t have time to dwell. I thanked him, then hurried to finish getting ready while I snagged bites of my delicious chocolate donut here and there.

  Now, with his hand wrapped around mine, we walk down the street toward my job.

  “There’s a party at the clubhouse tonight. I can pick you up, you can stay with me for the weekend,” he offers.

  My eyes widen at the idea of sleeping at that clubhouse, of being there for days. I don’t know if I can. All those women, those men, the alcohol and the drugs. I look down at my feet, but Johnny doesn’t allow it for long. He places his finger under my chin and tips my head back. My eyes connect with his chocolate ones and I melt a little.

  “I’ll be with you the whole time. Nothin’ bad’s gonna happen to you, princess,” he murmurs before he presses his lips to mine in a kiss. Its gentle and sweet, leaving me wanting so much more.

  “Okay, tonight,” I agree, nodding my head.

  “Now, get your shit handled so we can have a free and easy weekend, yeah?” he says before he leans down and kisses me again.

  This time, it isn’t sweet, nor is it gentle. He slides his tongue past my lips and his hand travels down to my ass and squeezes roughly. I moan wrapping my arms around his neck as I press my body even closer to his. He owns me, his kiss owns me, and I accept it.

  “Be a good girl today. I’ll see you later,” he murmurs as he breaks our kiss and takes a step back from me.

  I grin and turn from him, walking to the door of the bank and putting my key into the lock. I l
ook back at him before I open the door. He’s standing on the sidewalk, a smirk on his face and a cigarette firmly planted between his lips. He looks like the classic bad boy, and I shiver at the sight. He’s my bad boy, and I’m his princess. I smile as a blush crawls up my cheeks, then I open the door and slip inside, locking it behind me.

  Once I’m inside, I see Willa setting up her station with an evil grin on her lips. She’s never early. She’s usually ten minutes late every day. Yet, today she’s at least twenty minutes early, as I’m fifteen minutes early.

  I decide to ignore her. She plays games and she’s obviously going to try to play one with me, but I have news. I don’t play. I’ll just ignore her until she gets bored and moves on. I’m not over, nor am I forgiving her for the way she talked about me and to me last night.

  “Hattie, can we see you in the office?” Julia calls out from the back.

  I look up and gulp, nothing good ever happens out of back office conferences. The only time I’m okay with going back there is when we have our quarterly evaluations. I make my way toward the office. It feels like the death march, like nothing will be the same after the meeting is over.

  It feels like dread.

  “Please, have a seat,” Sharleen, the manager, says, pointing to the chair that is across from both her and Julia, who is sitting by her side.

  “Is there a problem? Did I do something wrong?” I ask.

  “We like you very much as a person, Hattie. You’re a good employee, you’re a sweet girl, and the customers adore you. However,” Sharleen begins. Julia holds up her hand and speaks.

  “We didn’t want to believe her. Willa came to us concerned; she said that you’d begun dating a very dangerous man. Then, this morning, we saw the two of you together. He’s a gang member, honey,” she says gently.

  “So I’m in trouble for the man I’m dating?” I ask, feeling confused.

  “Not necessarily trouble. But, we want to counsel you on your decision making skills. We also want to warn you that men like that will use naïve young women and manipulate them into committing crimes for them,” Sharleen continues.

  “So you think that he’s going to ask me to steal from the bank for him, and that I’ll do it?” I ask dumbfounded.

  “We really adore you, Hattie, but you’re young and this is the first time we’ve ever seen you with someone. His character is not trustworthy. Plus, how old is he?” Julia asks.

  “Who I date isn’t anybody’s business but my own. In no way would it affect my ability to work, and in no way could anybody manipulate me into doing something morally or legally wrong.”

  “We’re not firing you, but I don’t know if you’re going to be the right fit for our company anymore, Hattie,” Sharleen announces. I feel as though my stomach has dropped to the floor.

  “Excuse me?” I breathe.

  “Officially, we’re laying you off. You’ll be able to collect unemployment and we’ll give a positive reference to anyone who calls for a referral, but we can’t keep you here any longer,” Julia murmurs.

  I look from Sharleen to Julia in shock for a minute. Then I gather my purse and stand, fishing my key and my alarm out of my bag before setting it down on their desk.

  “You’re all cashed out from yesterday, so we’ll do a final count of your money just to make sure it’s all still the same, then you can leave,” Sharleen says before she stands and takes my key and alarm from the desktop.

  I don’t say a word. I stay quiet as I follow Julia to my counter and watch her cash out my drawer. It balances to the penny, because I’m not a liar or a thief. Then I look between Julia, Sharleen, and Willa. All of them each wearing different expressions on their faces.

  Sharleen is trying to look stern under her watchful gaze.

  Julia looks like she’s about to explode into tears any minute.

  Willa is full on smiling.

  I don’t look at the other tellers before I leave. I hold my head up high and I walk right out the front door.

  I have worked in that bank since the summer I graduated high school—over a year now, almost two. I have worked my way up from a part-time teller to the vault teller. Not once have I ever been questioned for anything. Not once have I been over twenty dollars off on my balance at the end of the night. Now, now suddenly because of a man I’m dating, I’m no longer trustworthy.

  I open my apartment door and sigh, closing it behind me before I lock it. I inhale and I can still smell Johnny everywhere around me. I walk into the bedroom and grin when I see my messy sheets.

  Quickly, I strip out of my work clothes and climb into the bed that I abandoned only hours ago. I bury my face in the pillow that Johnny laid his head on all night and I inhale, like a freak. I smell him, and us, and I close my eyes.

  I arrive at the clubhouse parking area with the urge to turn around immediately and pickup Hattie. Somehow, between last Saturday and today, I’ve become attached to her. Feeling the need to see her Monday wasn’t anything I had ever encountered before. I’ve never wanted to see a woman that badly. I’ve wanted a fuck, but any body could do for that. I’ve never wanted a specific person.

  I want Hattie.

  Then I tasted her, and fuck, there was no denying I wanted more. Last night sealed the deal for me. Hattie is my woman. Not my Old Lady by any means, but she’s mine. For now. For as long as I keep her. For as long as I want her.

  “Hey, baby,” Serina says as soon as I walk into the clubhouse.

  “Not now,” I murmur, passing right by her and walking toward Fury’s office.

  The door is open, and he’s inside, but I still knock on the door frame and wait for him to call me in. I close the door behind me before I sit down on the chair in front of his desk. He looks up at me and furrows his brow when he sees me.

  “That run was good, no problems last weekend, right?” he asks, setting his pen down.

  “Yeah, it was good,” I say. I don’t know why I’m here in his office, not really.

  “This about the girl you rescued last weekend?” he asks. I look up before I nod.

  “I’m going to give you advice, advice I would have never taken a decade ago. Claim her. She gets under your skin like no other woman has, then she’s yours and you claim her. Men like us, we don’t give a fuck about these bitches, so when one comes along that works her way under our skin, it’s a fuckin’ sign,” he informs me. I take in his words.

  I nod.

  I remember how he was with Kentlee. I remember what happened when he went away and the club wouldn’t back her because he hadn’t claimed her. I would hate for something like that to happen with Hattie. Though her situation is different, our situation is different, I would hate to have her swingin’ in the wind if something happened to me.

  “She’s only nineteen,” I murmur. Fury coughs.

  “She’s a baby,” he laughs.

  “She ain’t a baby when she’s takin’ my cock,” I grunt, which only makes him laugh harder.

  “Well, if you feel any way toward her at all, you want her, you think about her, and you can’t imagine another dick inside of her, then you need to claim her; infant status and all. If I’ve learned anything, Dirty, it’s that time doesn’t fuckin’ stand still. You turn around and years have passed. You need to take life by the dick, and you can’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks or says.”

  I stand and look at him again. Really look at him. He doesn’t look like he’s in his mid-forties, but he is. There’s a little grey at his temples and he’s got some extra wrinkles around the eyes that he didn’t have a few years ago. He’s also got three little curtain crawlers running around his house and a younger wife who undoubtedly keeps him on his toes.

  “If I could go back, I would have claimed Kentlee the second I saw her in her secretary getup walking down Main Street. I woulda thrown her on the back of my bike and fucked her until she couldn’t see straight, slapped my ink on her, and announced she was mine, right then and there,” he says, not looking up from his p
aperwork. “Our age difference is more than you and your girl’s. So don’t sweat that shit at all.”

  I turn and leave him in his office, letting his words roll around in my head.

  I have never thought about a woman as much as I’ve thought about Hattie. I’ve never wanted to see a woman as much as I want to see her, either. It’s only been a week. It’s so fucking ridiculous. Then I laugh to myself. It’s been three years in the making. Three long, fucking years since the first taste of her innocent lips on mine. A memory that has never faded for me over time.

  I never forgot her—not once in the past three years. I couldn’t if I tried. I have a feeling—now that I know what she feels like on my bare cock and what she tastes like—I’ll remember her until the day I die.

  But I don’t want to just remember her, I want to keep her.

  Fury’s right.

  I need to claim her.

  I need to mark her.

  I need to breed her.

  Hattie is mine, and she isn’t going anywhere.

  I just need to figure out a way to get her to agree to move from Sagle to here. The one-hour distance thing ain’t gonna last long, and she doesn’t have a car. I lie down on my bed and close my eyes, exhausted from the night before. Sleeping on her fuckin’ bright as shit pink sheets.

  I smirk, remembering how messy her room was. It was cute, but reminded me of a teenager’s room more than an adult’s. It makes me wonder if she’s with me because I’m the bad boy she wants to fuck around with, or if she actually has any type of feelings for me.

  I feel something warm and wet envelope my cock and I can’t help but thrust into the sensation. I moan, unable to open my eyes. I feel a tongue swirl around, and the warm mouth takes me in deep again.

  I imagine Hattie on her knees between my legs, her caramel colored hair around her face as she takes my cock, her green eyes focused on mine. I thrust harder and faster into her mouth and come down her throat before I crack an eye open with a small smile on my lips.

  “Fuck, Dirty Johnny, you almost choked me with that giant cock of yours,” a voice giggles.