Property of the Bad Boy

by Vanessa Waltz

  “I’d kill you if I didn’t need you.”

  “John—hold on. Just relax.” Sal suddenly edges in beside John, and I feel a rush of gratitude.

  “You realize our relationship with the Devils is hanging by a fucking thread?” John clenches his teeth, his fingers white knuckling the gun. “I am not going to prison.”

  Sal gives me a warning look. “His temper got a little out of hand, but I wouldn’t say it wasn’t justified.”

  “I don’t give a fuck.” He slowly lowers the gun, his chest pulsing hard. “Tommy, Rick.”

  They seize my arms as Johnny slips the gun back into his jacket pocket. I screw up my face as Rick steps behind me, twisting my arms back.

  Tommy shrugs apologetically as he raises a fist and slams it into my shoulder.

  “FUCK!”

  The scream tears from my throat as I feel the massive blow radiating pain down my arm. Another pinpointed hit thuds against my bones. They scrape against each other and I press my lips together, willing myself not to cry out.

  “That’s for being a complete prick at my dinner.”

  Even though my shoulder screams in pain, I lift myself up. Unbridled heat sears through my veins. “I would do it again. She’s my wife.”

  Johnny sneers at me. “You’re defending a girl you didn’t even want to fucking marry.”

  That’s true, but I can’t pretend that I didn’t feel something for her when she talked about the MC, and when she collapsed into tears at my place. A strange pain twisted inside me, similar to the pain my brother’s death gave me.

  “That girl belongs to me and they insulted me by trashing her. I should kill them.”

  His cool eyes cut mine. “They’ll be dealt with, but I won’t let you kill them.”

  What?

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  He makes a violent movement and slams his fist into my shoulder. Sal holds me back as pain burns through my joint like a white-hot poker, searing.

  “Get the fuck out of here!” He screams in my face, apoplectic with rage. “Take your wife and go somewhere else before I do something I regret.”

  Gladly.

  Johnny motions his head, and they release my arms. Fuck, the pain. The slick bastard walks back toward the entrance, leaving me alone with Sal, whose anxious, round face turns to me. He doesn’t speak until the door closes, leaving us alone outside.

  “John’s a cunthair from blowing your head off. What’s the matter with you?”

  I shake off his hand, trembling slightly with the pain radiating down my arm. Then the rage suddenly burns out. What’s all this anger done for me except put my head on the chopping block? And if I go, so does she. Three people dead for no reason.

  I can’t go on like this.

  “I can’t do this anymore.” Everything keeps feeding into my rage, making me sick to my stomach.

  “Jack, we’ll find out who was responsible. I swear to God. If it really was John—”

  “I’ll never find out.”

  And I sure as shit can’t kill a boss.

  “Jack!”

  I just want to go home. “I’ll drive myself home.”

  My thoughts churn as I walk away from Sal’s voice, the uncomfortably warm night clinging to my skin. I reach my car, shoulder burning, and sit in there for a while.

  The night sky is clear.

  Wouldn’t it be nice to just let go?

  An image of my brother, straight backed and proud, flashes through my vision. He always wore that slightly sarcastic grin. Impatient, prone to yell, but loyal to a fault.

  There was nobody but him for all the Christmases. Him and the family. I remember one of the captains dressing up as Santa Claus when I was younger and handing out gifts to all the kids. I felt like I belonged somewhere, but Mike was tethering me there. Without him, I was lost.

  I stop my car in front of my apartment, almost at peace. I can almost fucking see the stars, and then Johnny’s cold face flashes in front of my vision. He bends over Mike’s hospital bed with the pillow, after bribing the nurses to look away, and holds it over Mike’s mouth.

  My fingers tighten over the steering wheel so hard that I can hear the leather squeak. I can’t let it go.

  I open the door and slide out, slamming the door shut before taking the steps two at a time. Beatrice suddenly flames in my vision. Looking at me with wide blue eyes. Begging me to knock her up.

  I jam my keys inside the lock and burst into my apartment. My heart pounds when I see her seated at the kitchen table, waiting for me.

  I know what I fucking want, and it’s her.

  She gets up from the table, wearing another one of my shirts and nothing else, probably because she wants to lure me into fucking her without a condom because all of a sudden, she wants my baby.

  And there’s something incredibly hot about that.

  “Jack, what happened? Your shoulder!”

  Fuck my shoulder.

  I stride into the kitchen, blood pounding so hard I can barely hear a thing. My hand wraps in her hair and I take her mouth. Her soft lips yield under mine and she slides her arms around my neck. The bottom of the t-shirt lifts, exposing a line of her creamy stomach. My dick hardens, throbbing with an intense urge for something warm and wet. It’s just there, hidden under those thin cotton panties she’s not supposed to wear.

  My fingers dig into her hair as she leans into me, her tits brushing against my chest, and then I pull back.

  “I’ll give you what you want.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  Her eyes bead with happy tears and she touches my face, her thumbs trailing the edge of my smile.

  “But you can’t leave me.”

  “I won’t.”

  “No matter what happens between the MC and the mob, you’re mine.”

  “Thank you.”

  My cock jumps in my pants when her soft lips crush mine. Her eagerness makes my dick throb, but I pull back.

  “Thank me after I’ve filled you with my cum.”

  Then I bend down and pick her up in my arms. My arm feels like it’s ripping in half, but I carry her to the bedroom and let her down on the mattress gently.

  Beatrice looks up at me with a shy smile, her golden hair splayed over the black t-shirt she wears.

  I’ve never done this before and my dick is hard enough to pound nails. There’s something exciting about it. She’s desperate for my cum, and God knows I love giving it to her.

  I drop my slacks and briefs, cold air hitting my dick as I tear my shirt from my body. Her shirt flies from her head, revealing her perfect tits. A switch inside my brain flips and suddenly I’m on the bed, grabbing a fistful of her panties and tearing them from her legs.

  A stream of pre-cum slides down my cock, and before I can let myself go, I look into her anxious eyes.

  “I’m going to claim your body the way I should’ve on our wedding night.”

  “Do it. Fuck me.”

  She breathes it out as though it’s a thrill. I see it in her eyes and in the burn on her cheeks.

  I launch forward. I can’t fucking take it anymore. Need to be buried balls deep into that pussy that glistens for me. I watch the shock on her face as I spread her apart with my cock, feeling her warmth hugging me tightly for the first time. Feeling her completely raw like this takes my breath away, and for a moment I stay sheathed inside her. Her legs wrap around me, and I pull back and thrust hard again, feeling her breath hitch. She reaches down my back, making my skin burn, and digs her nails into my bare ass.

  “Beg for my cum.”

  I lean back, pausing my thrusts to fondle her swollen tits. I bend over, sucking her into my mouth as she arches her back, crying.

  “More. I want more, please.”

  I flatten myself over her, my elbows on each side of her head as she bites her lip and digs her nails into me. It feels different. Somehow that thin piece of latex separated something a lot bigger than just a patch of skin. She�
��s not just some girl I married to save my ass anymore. She’s my wife. She’s going to carry my kid.

  I wrap my arm around her back and the ache running along my cock grows, ever persistent. I ram my hips into her, loving the sound of her wet pussy smacking against my balls. A moan rips from her throat and excitement shoots up my chest.

  “I’ll fuck our baby into you, but you have to come first.”

  Beatrice’s feverish eyes find mine. “Keep going. Don’t stop.”

  I don’t think I could ever stop.

  The pressure builds up behind the ache, and Beatrice edges it along with every yell she makes to urge me faster. Fuck me. Come inside me.

  Then finally she tightens her arms around my neck and falls apart, the tension loosening from her face as she comes.

  I crush my body against hers and wrench her head toward me, tasting her minty breath as I moan in between kissing her. My hips dig in deep. I fuck her so goddamn hard the headboard smashes against the wall. Then I feel it rippling from me and I thrust so hard that she gasps. I yell into her lips but she keeps kissing me, and I feel my cock soaking her womb with my cum. An inexplicably mind-blowing feeling washes over me. My hips move of their own accord, pulsing into her as streams of cum continue to jet. I’ve never fucked a woman bareback before.

  It’s fucking awesome.

  I keep myself deep inside her, breathing hard as Beatrice runs her hands through my hair. She smiles at me. It’s such a beautiful thing that I forget myself for a moment. Then she pulls me down closer and breathes thanks into my lips.

  A light, dizzy feeling fills my head as she kisses me hard, my muscles spasming. She massages the base of my neck and my chest tightens, heart hammering. God, I can’t get enough of her. I slide a hand underneath her head and kiss her hard as my dick swells inside her. Why do I want this so badly? I search my feelings, but I can’t begin to clear the fog clouding my brain. I just know that I want to keep coming inside her and no one else. As many times as it takes until that stick changes color or whatever the fuck it is.

  She runs her fingers along my jaw and keeps staring at me as though I’m her goddamn savior. I find I don’t mind it so much.

  “You happy?”

  “Yes.”

  Her grin is so wide you’d think I gave her ten orgasms.

  “I want this. I’ve wanted kids since I was a girl.”

  I can’t say I felt the same. Even now it’s hard to imagine, but what better way to give a middle fucking finger to the MC than to knock up one of their women?

  “Good, because your pussy is going to milk my cock every day.” I dig my hips into her and she gasps.

  Her freckles burn a deep red and I bend my head, kissing her cheeks.

  You’re not just a biker bitch.

  We’re way past that shit. I’m balls deep inside her, fully intending to knock her up and make her mine. She touches my face, the blue in her eyes seeming to spill from her irises. Then her pale eyelashes blink and the tears cling to tiny strands.

  She gives me that look I recognize from some women—that starved, hopeless look that tugs at me. A finger touches my swollen shoulder.

  “What happened to you?”

  I shrug, and the movement sends pain stabbing through my muscles. “Forget about it.”

  “You went back to the club, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, and I beat the shit out of some assholes.”

  She makes a heavy sound but doesn’t frown. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

  “Since when do I do what you say?” I give her hip a rough pinch. “You’re my wife. They called you a cunt. Most guys get killed for that.”

  “I don’t want anyone to die.”

  I trail a finger up and down her neck. “How do you grow up in the MC and not accept that things like this happen all the time?”

  The blaze disappears from her eyes and she sinks back into the sheets, looking so down that I feel like an asshole for rubbing it in her face.

  “I’m going to have a lot of fun with you the next couple weeks.”

  “Couple weeks?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got some time off. Plenty of time to get you knocked up. Anywhere you want to go?”

  Her eyes widen. “What do you mean?”

  “It’d be nice to get the fuck out of here for a while.”

  “I’ve never been out of Montreal.” An electric smile lights up her face. “What about Vegas?”

  “What’s in Vegas?” I say with a laugh.

  “Shows, gambling—”

  “—Hookers, strip clubs. I like where you’re going with this.”

  She gives me a soft punch. “Stop being an ass.”

  “Relax. We’ll go.” I lay a kiss on her shocked face. “I’ll have to tell friends of ours that I’m in the area, but we’ll go.”

  “Jack, we could not come back—if you wanted.”

  Take off to another country, never look back? Never find out who destroyed my life?

  “I can’t just leave.”

  Leaving this place would feel like leaving my brother behind, and everything that happened. I can’t do that.

  She doesn’t say a thing, just watches me with that anxious look that I hate.

  I’m not giving up, Mike.

  * * *

  Vegas is an epileptic nightmare. Giant billboards flash with eyeball-searing brightness, blotting out the night. Assholes in stupid character costumes dance in the sidewalks, trying to get pictures for cash. Stripper cards scatter over the sidewalks like confetti. I step over hundreds of cards with naked girls flashing their tits to the camera, and I realize that the last time I’ve fucked another girl was weeks ago. Weeks.

  I went from a douchebag sleeping my way across the city to trying to knock up my wife.

  What happened?

  Some jerk snaps his stack of cards at me, and I wave him off. Jesus Christ—do I look like a guy who pays for pussy?

  It’s unbelievably hot, even at this time of night. The heat makes my eyes feel warm. It evaporates the sweat almost immediately, and I’m wearing slacks and a dress shirt because she wanted to dress up.

  “Oh my God, that’s amazing!”

  Beatrice grasps my arm and forces me to stop, pointing out something that I’ve seen dozens of times before—a Michael Jackson impersonator.

  Okay, fine. He looks pretty good.

  My heart thuds when she curls an arm around my waist and kisses my cheek.

  “Thank you for bringing me here.”

  She squeezes me again and moves from my side, getting lost in all the glamour. I walk behind her, hands deep in my pockets, right underneath the flashing pink and yellow Flamingos Casino. I watch her shake her cute ass in that dark-purple dress I bought her. Apparently it was a designer brand. I just liked the way her tits looked in the dress. Beatrice’s blonde hair flies as she turns around, giving me a sweet smile. It tugs at my chest and I smile back.

  Fine. I’ll admit that I like her. It’s comforting to have her with me. Even more comforting inside her, after I’ve fucked myself into exhaustion.

  I don’t drink as much anymore.

  Fuck.

  Weeks ago I couldn’t get through a night without something, and ever since she came into my life, I haven’t really.

  You replaced one vice with another.

  Two guys wearing polos take long looks at my wife after walking past her. She doesn’t notice a goddamn thing. My perfect, innocent little wife.

  I grab her waist and force her to stop, and then I bury my hand in her hair and I make her kiss me, right in the middle of the sidewalk. People walk around us, but I just feel her. Taste her. Her cheeks are rosy when I finally break away from her soft lips. Jesus Christ, she’s hot. I have a hard time tearing my eyes from the deep V-neck and those creamy tits on display for me.

  “I’m going to fuck you in that little dress.”

  I take her hand and drag her across the street, the heat baking my back as we make our way into our gilded hotel. She look
s longingly at the crowd of slot machines in the lobby blinking blue lights. Entranced, she stares at it until I tug her into the elevator. The gleaming doors slide open, mirroring Beatrice’s happy face, and then I open the door to our suite.

  It’s fucking huge.

  She presses her palms to the dark windows overlooking the strip. Her hair flashes as she turns around, beaming.

  “This is incredible!”

  I smile at her and roll our suitcases into the bedroom, and then I walk in the bathroom. Light beams over polished white marble. I take a leak and when I get out, I almost slip on something.

  It’s the dress she was wearing.

  Smiling to myself, I pick it up and glance down the hall, spotting another piece of crumpled fabric on the floor.

  My wife is desperate for cock.

  I walk to it, picking up her bra. It still smells like her. God, I can just picture her waiting somewhere for me.

  A black thong sits on the kitchen counter. I take it, feeling her warmth lingering on the fabric. Shit, where is she? How many goddamn rooms does this place have?

  I follow the articles of clothing, which lead to a glass door to the outdoors. The warm air hits me immediately as I slide it open. The terrace is huge, and there’s a flickering orange light. It makes the shadows tremble.

  I round some hedges and see a fire pit, the orange flames licking over fake logs. Surrounding the fire pit is outdoor furniture, including a red couch. A naked woman lies on the couch, her tits like round globes on her chest. Her cascade of blonde hair shifts across her face as she moves her head.

  Blood pounds so thickly in my veins that I can’t hear anything but a roar. My cock stands to attention as I walk closer to that perfect vision of her, bare underneath the sky. It’s fucking hot out, especially with that fire, but I can’t see her without its light.

  I tug at my shirt collar, unbuttoning it slowly as she stares up at me. Then I can’t take looking at her anymore. I have to run my hands all over my woman.

  “All this to get me to fuck you?” I spread my hand over her smooth belly.

  Jesus, just look at her legs. She folds them neatly to the side so that I can’t see her pussy, just a tantalizing V. Beatrice smiles with a shy, “Who, me?” expression.