Rough & Rugged (Notorious Devils Book 3)

by Hayley Faiman

  “I don’t know nothin’,” the third man screams.

  “What is the name of your contact? What El Jefe are you fuckin’ working for?” Fury screams. It sounds guttural and terrifying.

  “I never talked to him, only Blow did,” he cries—literally cries. There are tears streaming down his face.

  “I got Blow’s phone. Gonna send it to the smart fucker that the Russians use, Oliver,” Sniper murmurs.

  “You want him?” Fury asks, looking right at me.

  “Nope. Fuckin’ go for it, brother, get it all out,” I say.

  I can tell the animal inside of Fury isn’t sated yet. Of course I want a piece of this third chump, but my President needs it more. He has kids, and they wanted to fuckin’ steal them to do sick shit. It makes me angry. No, I don’t think there’s a word to describe how it makes me feel—but I’ll take it out in other ways. Fury needs to get it all out now before he goes back to Kentlee.

  “You know this means another war?” Torch asks from beside me.

  “A war nobody would even consider not fighting,” I remark.

  “No shit,” he grunts. “Can’t help but wonder why all this is happening now.”

  “Yeah. Seems strange, but maybe not. Blow was pissed when his club was disassembled, rearranged, and he was stripped of his title and kicked the fuck out,” I remind Torch.

  “You think all this is because of that?” Torch asks. He wasn’t there to see how angry Blow was when his title was stripped and his club was torn apart.

  “Took a big hit to his pride. He couldn’t keep himself clean, and ran his club to the ground, so we had to go in. He didn’t give it up easily. He fought for it; he wanted it. This is just retaliation and bitterness,” I murmur.

  “Fuck, this could turn into a real fuckin’ shit storm,” he mutters.

  “Yeah, it could.”

  “Church in two hours,” Fury barks.

  The prospects stay behind, and the rest of us file out. I need to see Hattie. I need to touch her, make sure she’s all right. I also need to talk to her, in more depth, about her place in the club and at my side. She needs to know what I expect of her. If she can’t do it, then we need to talk about what that looks like as well. I won’t lose her, never will again, but I won’t have the picture-perfect version of her I always wanted either. That will fuckin’ blow.

  I walk straight toward the clubhouse and stop in my tracks as soon as I enter the bar. Hattie is sitting at a table. Kentlee on one side of her, Brentlee on the other, and they’re lookin’ at something on the computer. Hattie’s brows are furrowed and she looks like she’s concentrating on something. I watch as Kentlee points to something on the screen, and Hattie’s eyes light up before she turns and smiles to her.

  Fuck me, she’s pretty.

  “Oh, Dirty, come here,” Brentlee calls out. I watch as Hattie’s green eyes lift to mine and she smiles wide.

  “Johnny, I hope you like this one, it’s my favorite,” she calls out.

  I have no fuckin’ clue what she’s talking about as I walk over to them and behind her. Then I focus my eyes onto the computer screen and my heart stills.

  A house.

  They’re looking at houses.

  Fuck me.

  “It’s a thousand a month. Is that too much?” Hattie asks, tipping her head back.

  “No, princess, it’s not,” I murmur, afraid to say anything else. Afraid that I’ll show too much—that she’ll see just how much she affects me.

  I look up at Johnny and notice that his face has lost everything, all emotion. It’s as if he’s made of granite and he’s expressionless. I tip my head back down and turn to Kentlee.

  “Can we set something up for tomorrow to see that?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I’ll do that,” she murmurs, but her focus is on Johnny as well.

  Without a word, I stand and take his hand as I start to walk toward his room. He doesn’t protest. He follows me silently, and once we’re inside of his room and the door is locked, I drop his hand and turn to face him. He’s freaking out. Totally and completely freaking out, and I want to know why.

  “Jo—,” I don’t even get his entire name out before his hands are buried in my hair, his lips are on mine, and his tongue has dived into my mouth.

  After the initial shock, my body jolts and I wrap my own arms around his shoulders and slide my hands into his messy, bed-head hair. I press my body against his, enjoying the way his hard chest feels against my now aching breasts.

  “I need your lips around my cock, princess,” he murmurs against my mouth.

  I don’t hesitate to release his hair and fall to my knees. He didn’t say he wanted, he said he needed. I lift my hands to his belt, and with shaky fingers, I unbuckle, unbutton, and unzip his jeans. I trace my fingers beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs before I pull them, along with his jeans, down his legs. I let them fall in a pile at his feet. His cock springs free and bobs in front of my face, but I don’t touch him. I look up at him from beneath my eyelashes and gasp at the heat and lust swirling in his eyes.

  One of Johnny’s hands lifts and slides behind my neck, tangling in the hair at my nape. I love how he always tangles his hands in my hair, guiding me the way he wants me, controlling me, and holding me close. It makes me feel—wanted. I purse my lips together and kiss the tip of his dick as I watch his eyes widen and his nostrils flare.

  “Open your mouth, Hattie. Take me,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

  I do as he asks and I open my mouth for him, only for him. I continue to look up at him from beneath my lashes as he slowly sinks between my lips and down my throat. I wish I could take all of him immediately, I want to. I want to be able to do that for him. I feel his hand massage the nape of my neck as he bends his knees and sinks a little further inside of me.

  “Relax your throat, I want to see how much you can take. One day, you’ll take all of me,” he rasps.

  I widen my eyes in disbelief. No way could his entire length fit down my throat. Not possible.

  “Close your eyes, Hattie. Breathe through your nose and relax, just relax,” he coos softly. I let my head fall back a bit, doing as he asks. Relaxing.

  I feel his cock at the back of my throat, but I don’t tense up. I just breathe. He’s been this far before, and this time I think he’s going to go deeper. My suspicions are proven correct when he slides down even further. I breathe through my nose, pinching my eyes closed, and focus on his hand, which is still massaging the back of my head.

  “Good girl. Just take me, princess. Take all of me,” he murmurs. “Fuck, Hattie,” he groans.

  I feel like the most beautiful woman in the world when he lets out the deep rumbling moan after his cursed words. I did that to him, me, nobody else.

  “God, if you could see yourself right now, baby. You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he grunts as his fingers grip my scalp and he thrusts a little.

  I feel his balls resting against my chin and I open my eyes, widening them as I look up at him. I’m in shock. He fit—he fit all the way down my throat. My shock turns into a different feeling completely when my eyes meet his. He’s looking at me with awe and wonderment, which is mixed with something else entirely—maybe lust, perhaps a bit of love, too. I don’t know.

  “Fucking, shit, Hattie. Fucking goddamn shit, you feel good,” he rambles. “Don’t ever take yourself away from me. You’re mine and you’re staying at my fucking side, princess.”

  I want to nod and tell him that I’ll be at his side, always—that I’ll be the kind of woman he needs—but I can’t say a word with his dick shoved down my throat, so I only hum.

  “Jesus Christ,” he shouts before he pulls out of me with a speed I didn’t know existed. Then, with two jerks of his dick, I feel his release spurt onto my face, covering my cheeks and lips.

  I close my eyes for a split second and then open them back up and am horrified to find his cock covered in saliva. Not just a little bit, either. It’s coated.

 
I reach up to touch my mouth and find that not only is my mouth, but also my chin is covered. Then I look down and see the floor has a bunch as well.

  I feel my face heat, and then I’m lifted from underneath my arms and deposited onto the bed. Johnny covers me quickly, nestling his hips between my thighs, his face hovering above mine. I hold my breath when his hand comes up and he starts to touch my face where his climax landed.

  “I want to watch you lick my cum from my fingers, will you do that for me?” he asks.

  I nod, unable to speak as his eyes search mine. I open my mouth and stick my tongue out. Johnny’s finger slides across my tongue, and I close my lips around it, sucking on his finger before I release it. Wordlessly, we repeat the move again, and then again, until my face is pretty much cleaned of his cum.

  “You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever had, Hattie. I don’t deserve you, not one fuckin’ bit,” he murmurs. He slowly strips me of my clothes and then finishes undressing himself before he fits his hips between my thighs once again.

  I close my eyes, waiting for more, but he doesn’t say anything else. His nose runs along my hairline as his cock slowly slides inside of me. I widen my legs and tip my hips to accept him deeper as my eyes slowly reopen.

  Johnny’s eyes hold me captive, unable to speak or even think. They’re dark and focused completely on me, and they’re gentle.

  Gone is the hard and harshness I’ve seen, now he’s softened. Something inside of him has shifted or changed. I don’t know what, but I hope he stays like this always.

  “You’re so pretty,” he murmurs as his lips brush mine and his hips begin to thrust harder. My back arches as my own hips push up and meet with his.

  Pretty—he’s called me that on more than one occasion, and I wonder if the word has a different meaning to him entirely. I don’t have the capacity to think anything else about it as my body builds higher, climbing toward my release.

  “Please,” I whimper.

  “Come on my cock, Hattie,” he murmurs as his hand releases my hair and slides between us.

  When he touches me, when his thumb presses against my clit, it’s as if he ignites this flame inside of me. I scream as my body tightens and I come. I come all over him, just as he’s asked me to. He groans and slams his hips against mine a few times before he, himself, stills. I feel his release fill my body. He sags on top of me, his face nuzzling my neck, and his hot breath washing over my sweat soaked skin.

  “I didn’t kill them,” he murmurs against my neck.

  “Hmmm?” I ask as my fingernails run up and down his smooth back.

  “Those men. I didn’t kill them. I wanted you to know the truth,” he repeats. I freeze.

  “Why are you telling me now?”

  “You accept me just as I am—all of me, Hattie. You weren’t happy, but you weren’t a bitch, and you didn’t try to punish me for not doing exactly what you wanted me to. You took me into your body just as you always have, as if nothing had changed. So, I wanted to tell you the truth.”

  I had forgotten about them. How I could have forgotten, I don’t know, but I did. No, I know how I forgot. I was drunk off of Johnny, off of the expression in his eyes and the way he owns every piece of me. How he renders me speechless and breathless all at the same time.

  My rugged, rough man.

  “Thank you,” I whisper. Johnny sighs before he slides out of me and then rolls to his back.

  “I want you to believe that I’m noble, that I didn’t kill them just because you asked me not to. But I can’t lie to you,” he states as he stares at the ceiling. “I didn’t have the opportunity to do it first.”

  I gasp at his words. Then I turn my head slightly and I see that his gaze is settled on me and its—challenging.

  “Are you trying to start a fight, now?” I ask.

  Johnny doesn’t answer, he sits up and walks over to his nightstand completely naked, then he reaches inside of the drawer and pulls out a cigarette. He lights it as his eyes stay glued to mine. He’s pushing me, pushing my buttons and trying to figure out if I’ll stay at his side or if I’ll be this hidden object he screws in the dark and ignores during the day. He can be sweet and then an asshole with zero notice. It’s part of him, just another piece of him that I have to accept.

  I can see it in his eyes; it’s written plain as day on his impassive face. The emotion he had moments ago has been wiped clean from his features, and now he smokes his cigarette and stares at me.

  “I was house hunting earlier because you said you wanted to move out of here and into our own place. I want to be at your side Johnny, totally at your side. Not anywhere else,” I say shakily.

  “And the fact that I would have killed all three of those fuckers the second I had the chance?” he asks, cocking a brow at me.

  I inhale deeply before I rise to my knees on the bed and face him. I’m sure I look a complete mess with my hair matted and my face covered in remnants of his release mixed with my own saliva, but I don’t care. This is a serious conversation and it needs to happen.

  Apparently, it needs to happen right now.

  “Is anything you do for the club going to affect the way you treat me or care for me?” I ask, looking into his chocolate eyes.

  I watch as they flash with something, something unknown, and then he’s right in front of me, and his free hand is wrapped around the side of my neck.

  “Do you mean, am I going to turn into some monster and start taking shit out on you?” he asks. His voice is deep, low, and growly.

  I don’t answer him. I stare at him—waiting.

  “Fucking hell, Hattie. Never. I would never hurt you,” he says. His hand moves and cups my cheek as his thumb brushes across my lips, his eyes focused on mine. “You’re my princess. Mine. I’d never hurt you, baby.”

  I don’t even try to stop the tears that fall from my eyes at his words and the sincerity I feel pouring off of him. I wrap one of my hands around his wrist and lift the other to tangle in the back of his hair. Then I lean forward and press my lips to his. He smells like smoke and sex and sweat. It’s delicious.

  “I am going to be at your side, Johnny. I was made for you, and you were made for me. I’ve waited three years to have you, and nothing could keep me from standing right next to you. Through hell or happiness, I’ll be at your side, as long as you treat me right,” I murmur against his lips.

  “Always. You’ll always be my princess, Hattie,” he rumbles.

  His hand moves from my cheek to my lower back as his lips brush mine; then his tongue dives into my mouth and my brain completely shuts down as he kisses me. He doesn’t just kiss, he invades, and I welcome every stroke of his warm, full tongue against mine.

  “Let’s get cleaned up and then join the living,” Johnny murmurs as he breaks away from my mouth.

  He hands me an oversized shirt as he pulls a pair of jeans over his hips, and together we go into the bathroom to shower. We spend too much time washing each other’s bodies, and I giggle as he chuckles every so often.

  I feel the heaviness from earlier lifting, and I find that I just plain like Johnny. He’s sexy and he makes me feel beautiful; but aside from all of that, I like being near him, being held by him, and laughing with him. I can’t wait to start our future together. What it holds, I don’t know, but I’m excited to explore it all at his side.

  This place is a fuckin’ dump.

  I look over to Hattie, who is walking around and listening to the real estate agent like she’s actually going to say yes to the piece of shit house she looked at online.

  Lockdown was lifted this morning. We don’t know The Cartel or the Bastards’ next moves, but we also don’t know where the fuck any of them are.

  They’re like fuckin’ roaches that live in the walls, never seen by the human eye except when you flip a switch at two in the morning looking for a fuckin’ snack. Then those fuckers scurry around as fast as lightning.

  “What do you think?” Hattie asks with wide eyes.r />
  I don’t answer her. I turn my head to the real estate agent and speak directly to her.

  “This place is a fuckin shithole. I’m not puttin’ my woman up in here. Find us somewhere decent,” I bark.

  “Johnny,” Hattie gasps.

  “Well, sir, your budget doesn’t allow for anything decent,” the woman smirks.

  “You didn’t ask my budget, bitch,” I clip.

  Her eyes widen as Hattie groans and lets her forehead fall to my bicep. Sure, I’m bein’ a dick, but ask me if I care? I don’t.

  “What is your budget, then?” she asks through slotted eyes.

  “Don’t got one,” I shrug.

  “Johnny,” Hattie hisses.

  “Princess, I’m not having you living in a place that’s infested, and this place is. There’s dead mice in the corner. You think those are the only ones?” I murmur. I watch as her eyes widen and she scoots a little closer to me. I almost laugh.

  “We have a two bedroom in a nice neighborhood for fifteen hundred a month,” the agent says.

  “Show me,” I grunt.

  She nods and we follow her outside. Hattie and I load on my bike as she starts her car and we follow her to the house. I almost laugh my ass off; I mean, I get really fuckin’ close when we pull up to the house. It’s like goddamn karma.

  “Aren’t you coming?” Hattie asks after she scrambles off of my bike.

  “I already know what this place looks like,” I murmur.

  I watch as her face falls and sadness washes over her. I take her hand while shaking my head. I don’t want her to think anything bad about it, it’s just that I’ve been in this house more times than I can count.

  “This was the house that Kentlee and Fury rented for a few years, that’s how I know exactly what it looks like on the inside,” I say, watching as her body relaxes.

  “Okay,” she whispers.

  “It’s a good house, princess, you’ll like it.”