Rough & Rugged (Notorious Devils Book 3)

by Hayley Faiman

  As we walk through the house and Hattie looks around, I don’t tell her about all the hell Kentlee went through living here. I don’t tell her how Fury spent the first three years of their relationship in prison, or how Kentlee had to waitress at the Devils Club to make ends meet with a baby at home. After he got out and they got their shit straight, they lived here for another couple of years until they bought the house they’re currently in. Those were good years. So maybe—maybe the house isn’t such a bad sign.

  “I like it. What do you think?” Hattie asks as she runs her hand over the kitchen countertop.

  “You like it, it’s yours, princess,” I murmur.

  “It’s fifteen hundred for the deposit and another fifteen hundred for the first month’s rent, all due at the same time,” the realtor interrupts.

  I dig in my pocket and pull out my cash. I count out three grand for the bitch and hand it over to her. Her eyes widen as she takes my money and then counts it for herself.

  “I’m gonna need a contract to sign and a receipt,” I announce. She straightens and pulls out a piece of paper from her clipboard before walking over to the kitchen counter. I watch as she signs some things and then pushes it over to us.

  “I’ll need both your names on there,” she mutters.

  “Hattie ain’t financially responsible for the rent, it’s all me,” I say as I fill out the paperwork. I don’t put her down as responsible, putting her down as a resident instead.

  Once I sign everything, I hand it back to the agent. She in turn hands me my own copy, plus keys and the receipt.

  “Congratulations, Mr. Williams,” she says, giving me a smile. “When the first rolls around, just send your payment to that address on the contract, or you can come by the office if you’re going to continue paying in cash.”

  I don’t respond to her and watch her leave. Once the door is closed, I turn to Hattie who is standing in the kitchen looking a little dumbfounded.

  “That lady was a fuckin’ bitch,” I mutter.

  “Johnny,” she whispers.

  I look at her and she has tears forming in her eyes. I don’t know what to do. Hattie is obviously a crier, since she keeps fucking doing it, and I don’t know what to do every time she starts, except maybe fuck her.

  “Hattie.”

  “This is all for me, for us?” she asks with a trembling lower lip as tears spill down her cheeks.

  “Yeah,” I affirm.

  “Thank you so much,” she cries out before she launches herself at me.

  I only have a second to brace in order to catch her slim body as she wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my shoulders.

  “I told you, Hattie. Whatever you want, it’s yours,” I say as I wrap my hands around her tiny little ass to keep her upright.

  “I’m going to make you so happy, Johnny,” she whispers before her lips touch mine in a hard kiss.

  Doesn’t she know that she already makes me happy?

  Everything about her is everything I ever wanted in a woman. She’s sweet and kind, so tiny, and she needs me to protect her. She’s clean, not some drugged out whore, and when she looks at me with her big, green eyes, I fuckin’ melt for her.

  I don’t give happiness another thought as my cock presses against my jeans and Hattie’s sweet pussy. I walk us over to the kitchen counter and set her ass down on the edge before I lift my face from hers.

  “You already do make me happy, princess,” I murmur as I lift her shirt from her body and unhook her bra, freeing her small, perfect tits.

  “Wh—what are you doing?” she asks looking at me in shock.

  “I’m gonna fuck you in our new place. Break it in,” I say with a chuckle.

  “There’s no curtains. Anybody could see,” she says turning around to look at the open windows that are behind her, facing the empty backyard.

  “Like all the people in the backyard? Nobody’s gonna see shit, Hattie. And if they do, then they deserve a little show for their efforts.” I dip my face and capture one of her pink nipples with my lips.

  “Johnny,” she whispers as her hands fly to the back of my head.

  I don’t respond with words, I’m too busy tasting the soft flesh of her tit. Fuck me, she tastes like goddamn candy. I suck her deep into my mouth as I pinch her other nipple, tugging on the bud. She gasps above me and it only spurs me on more. I release her nipple but bite down just above it, on the swell of her tit, leaving my teeth marks in her skin.

  “I need more,” she murmurs above me. I look up and notice that her face is flush and there’s a sheen of sweat gathering on her skin.

  Hattie shifts her hips as I shimmy her jeans and her panties down her thighs. Once I have her stripped bare, I tell her to lie back on the counter. I circle her ankles with my fingers before I slide my hands up the inside of her legs to her knees. Then I wrap my hands under the bend in her knees and I spread her wide for me. I listen to the hitch in her breath, knowing that she’s embarrassed to be so exposed.

  “This pussy was made for me, Hattie,” I murmur before I bend down and press a kiss to her clit, grinning when she gasps and twitches slightly.

  I release one of her legs and take my phone out, snapping a picture of her spread out pussy for later use.

  “Johnny,” she cries.

  “Adding to my collection, princess, get fuckin’ used to it.”

  I suck her clit into my mouth and flick it with my tongue, enjoying the little whimpering sounds she’s making above me.

  I love having her spread out, but I wish the counter top was lower so I could fuck her just like this, too. I shake the thought of my dick pounding into her and push two fingers inside of her wet center. Her fingers tangle in my hair and grip the strands, pulling me closer as my tongue and fingers move faster.

  I’m going to come.

  I’m going to scream and come, and it’s going to be huge. I can feel it building and climbing inside of me, like a tangible thing.

  Johnny does this to me, he does it every single time he touches me, and I love it.

  I love him.

  If I told him, he’d think I was a stupid, young girl—so I don’t. Instead, I take what he gives me. Right now, that’s his mouth.

  My climax hits me like a freight train, and I can’t hold back the scream as my entire body tenses and I tremble and shake against the countertop. When I stop, and only when I’ve stopped, Johnny stands up. His lids are heavy as he looks down on me and I can’t help but smile a languid, happy, sated smile.

  I watch as he unbuckles his pants and pushes them down his hips, his cock springing free and pointed directly at me.

  I sit up without direction, wrapping one leg around his hip and the other around his thigh, pulling him closer to me. I brace myself, expecting him to slam inside of me, but he surprises me as he gently eases his way inside of my body. One of his hands slides up my spine and wraps around the back of my neck.

  We don’t speak.

  There are no words that need to be spoken, we’re conversing with our bodies, telling each other exactly how we feel—or at least, I am.

  I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold onto him. His nose slides alongside mine before he kisses down my jaw and to my neck, sucking on the skin just below my ear.

  “Johnny,” I moan as my thighs tighten against him.

  “My Hattie,” he murmurs against my skin before he gently bites down.

  He starts to thrust a little harder, his hips slamming against me with each jerk of his body. I drop my head back, enjoying the way he’s holding me up, holding me to him. Then his mouth is on my breast and I feel his teeth scrape the place he’s already bitten me.

  “Bruised already, and so fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs against my skin.

  “Bruise me more, Johnny. Make love to me and bruise me,” I mutter.

  Johnny doesn’t respond with anything other than a grunt; but in the next breath, I feel his mouth on the swell of my breast as his teeth bite down, hard. I cry ou
t in surprise as his hips slam into me, his cock going deeper than before.

  My eyes roll into the back of my head as I accept him, all of him. Pounding, biting, bruising and taking me. I scream as I come, the sensation almost overwhelming, my body shaking and more sensitive than I’ve ever felt before. He continues to wildly thrust his hips before he stills and comes as well.

  We don’t say anything as we hold each other and try to return to normal breathing. Johnny’s lips are still pressed to my breast, and I’m limp and holding onto him by sheer willpower alone. I gasp when he picks me up, and then, in the next minute, he’s sitting on the dirty ground, his back against the cabinets and me wrapped around him, his dick still buried inside of me.

  “We move in tomorrow,” he murmurs as his head falls back against the cabinet.

  “What about furniture and stuff?” I ask, tangling my fingers in his hair and massaging his scalp.

  “We’ll go get a mattress today, and then I’ll give you money and you and the other Old Ladies can go shopping and set everything up,” he says as his eyes close.

  “Seriously?” I ask in surprise.

  “Yeah,” he sighs. “Feels good, princess,” he mutters. I cross my ankles behind his lower back and continue to massage his head.

  “You’re doing too much for me,” I say softly.

  “Can’t do too much for my own woman, and my own fuckin’ house,” he grumbles.

  I decide not to say anything else. I don’t think it would matter what I said. He wants things a certain way, and that way means taking care of me the way he deems necessary—by setting up a house for us to live in.

  “Never had nice shit, Hattie. Never had a clean house to come home to, and I’ve never had a good woman like you in my bed. So I want to give you things, yeah, but I’m being selfish, too. I want new, clean shit because I’ve never had it before.”

  His words make my chest ache, and my heart breaks for him. I try not to cry as I nod in understanding.

  “Okay, Johnny. Whatever you want,” I murmur.

  He doesn’t respond with words. Physical reactions seem to be his preferred communication, I’m discovering. He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me closer to him, his lips pressing against mine in an instant. He kisses me firmly, his lips touching mine as his tongue slides deep inside of my mouth. He owns me. Every piece of me is his to do with as he wishes, and I fear he’ll be able to get away with just about anything. I’m that affected by him.

  I feel him harden inside of me and I can’t help but move as his tongue makes love to my mouth. I ride him, our mouths never breaking their connection as we take and give to each other until we both come apart in each other’s arms.

  I watch the sway of her little ass in her tight pants and grin as I take a pull from my beer. I’m in my new garage with a few of my brothers surrounding me. It’s been a week, one full week since we’ve been in this house, and it’s been the best week of my entire fucking life.

  I haven’t heard or seen my mother, no news from the Bastards or The Cartel, Hattie’s family has been quiet, and my dick has seen so much action that it aches, and I don’t even give a single shit.

  “I still can’t believe you moved into this place,” Fury says with a grin.

  “I figured it was either great luck or the worst, we’ll find out,” I shrug as I put a cigarette between my lips and light it.

  “Probably a little bit of both. Right now, you look happy as shit. Pleased, brother,” he murmurs before taking a pull from his beer.

  “She’s a good girl. Sweet and young, but she has her head on straight,” I say.

  “Kentlee fuckin’ loves her,” he points out, something I already know.

  “So does Brent,” Sniper mutters.

  “Heard anything from the cop brother?” Fury asks.

  “Nothing so far. But I know that shit storm’s brewin’. No way is he just gonna fade away,” I point out. Fury nods.

  “No, I don’t imagine that he will,” he murmurs as he looks toward the house.

  I have no doubt that Fury’s lost in nostalgia as he looks at the yard and front of the house. He lived here for several years, and his woman lived here longer. It wasn’t just their house; this was their home, their family home.

  “You gonna brand her?” Sniper asks a few minutes later.

  I think about his words for a beat.

  I want nothing more than to brand Hattie as mine, but that’s so permanent. While I want her bound to me, I’m not sure if she’s ready completely to be immersed in this life yet, and I don’t want to make either of us miserable.

  She’ll always be mine, I’m committed to making it work with her, but I’m not so sure she’s going to be part of the club. I’m not quite sure I want her to be, either. I’ve already made her a fuckin’ target. She’s felt the shit that this life can deliver. Tethering her to me like that, it could be deadly.

  “You try to keep that shit separate and it’ll leak anyway,” Fury says.

  I arch a brow as I inhale my smoke.

  “I tried that shit, brother, and let me tell you, it was the stupidest thing I could have done. Hattie is a good girl and she’ll grow into a strong woman if you guide her—if you let these other strong as shit Old Ladies guide her. She’s into you, man, in a way that I don’t think she’ll ever not be into you. The rest of the club life, that comes with time. The foundation is there, don’t piss it away, and don’t fuck around. If something happens to you, I’m not sure I could sway the rest of the brothers to vote on supporting and protecting her if she isn’t wearing your brand.”

  I take a pull from my beer, needing the distraction before I say something I shouldn’t. Fury, of all people, should support whatever fucking decision I choose with my woman.

  Branded or not, it’s obvious she’s mine. Just because I don’t want to submerge her into the life, doesn’t make her less mine. He should support her no matter what my decision on tattooing her body is.

  “We’d always make sure she was workin’, Dirty, you know that, but Fury’s right. The brothers won’t vote to help out your side piece,” Sniper mumbles.

  It pisses me off; not because they’re wrong, but because they’re right. I voted to help Kentlee out back when Fury was locked up, but I was one of the only ones. I knew she was a good girl and special to Fury, just like Fury knows that Hattie is the same to me; but without that brand, she’s just some bitch I’m fuckin’ to the rest of the brothers.

  “Fuck. Gonna have to do that, ain’t I?” I ask, taking another drag.

  “My future brother-in-law was a pissed off cop, branding would be priority on my to-do list,” Sniper chuckles.

  “Guess I’ll make a call to Dragon,” I grunt.

  Dragon is our go-to tattoo artist. He’s a hang-around with the club. We’ve all tried once or twice to get him to prospect for us, but he’s not interested in becoming a full fledge member. It’s a damn shame too. He’s a fuckin’ great guy, and he’d be a great asset to our club.

  “Set it up,” Fury grins.

  I flip him off before I pull my phone out of my back pocket and do just that. Hattie’ll do it. She’ll do whatever I want her to. One of my favorite things about her. She’s shy and she’s unsure, but with a little urging from me, she’ll at least try it, whatever it is that I want her to.

  “Dirty,” Dragon says as his greeting.

  “Need some ink done,” I mutter.

  “What now?”

  “On my woman,” I say. The phone goes silent.

  “Seriously?” he practically chokes.

  “Yup.”

  “Tomorrow, noon, I got some time. You got any ideas?” he asks. I can tell he’s shocked as shit at my request.

  “No girlie shit,” I mumble.

  “But she’s a bitch, right?” he laughs.

  “Yes, you asshole.”

  “I’ll come up with a couple ideas tonight,” he says through his laughter. I press end and shove my phone in my pocket.
r />   “Nothing girlie?” Sniper asks, raising an eyebrow.

  “You guys want girlie flowers and shit on your women, that’s cool, but that ain’t me,” I say.

  “But Hattie’s girlie. It’s her body,” Fury points out.

  “My name’s on it, then it ain’t hers.”

  Kentlee and I straighten out the new comforter before we go about adding the pillows and little touches around the bedroom. Today I’m thankful, and extremely lucky, that both Kentlee and Brentlee have helped me outfit this new house. We went shopping and bought kitchen items, along with dishes, cookware and bakeware. Then we went to another store and outfitted both of the bathrooms and the bedroom linens.

  Johnny, Fury, and Sniper helped unload the headboard we found, along with a sofa, a love seat, and a small kitchen table with chairs. The second bedroom is empty, but I don’t care. Johnny had a television set up and installed the day after we moved in, so that was one less thing on my list.

  Everything in this house is new, and it’s nicer than I had in my apartment, and apparently nicer than anything Johnny’s ever had in his life. I wouldn’t mind buying used items and maybe re-painting them, but Johnny was insistent that everything that came through the front door of this house was going to be brand new. I didn’t want to fight about it. It’s his money and it’s what makes him happy.

  “It really does look so different from when I lived here,” Kentlee says as she straightens the lamp on the nightstand next to the bed.

  “I am in love with these colors. I hope Johnny doesn’t hate them,” I say, chewing on my bottom lip as I look at the comforter.

  The comforter itself isn’t the problem. It’s a deep, rich, navy blue, but it has gathers and tucks, feminizing it. The throw pillows are bright yellow, light grey, and white—not manly in the slightest. It’s a big feminine bed, and now that it’s all set up, I’m afraid that Johnny’s going to hate it.

  “It’s adorable. He’ll be fine. They don’t really care as long as the sheets are soft and your naked between them. And those sheets are soft as hell, so you’re good,” Kentlee says with a grin as she gathers her purse.