Notorious Devils MC Complete Collection: BoxSet

by Hayley Faiman

  I walk away from her, from the place I want to be, so that I can get some work done. I have to keep a presence at the club, even if all of my brothers know that I‘m fuckin‘ some town pussy.

  I narrow my eyes on the road and leave where I want to be most without looking back.

  Chapter Thirteen

  KENTLEE

  The next week goes by so quickly, my head is spinning. I spend my days at work, my evenings packing, and my nights—my nights I spend with Pierce inside of me before we both pass out.

  He hasn’t been around other than to fuck and sleep, but he’s been busy with the new strip club, something I’m trying very hard to accept as a reality, even though I hate it.

  He claims one of the other guys will be managing the club, but he wants to make sure all of the construction goes as planned.

  I don’t know if I believe him.

  I can imagine that holding auditions would be very exciting for a man, and he wouldn’t want to miss it.

  I’m trying to keep my hormonal crazy in check, but it isn’t easy.

  Now, it’s moving day.

  I was hoping we could wait another week, but Pierce needs to do it this weekend. Apparently, he has something to do out of town next weekend, though he won’t tell me what it is.

  I hate that he’s keeping things from me, but we aren’t at a place where I feel like I can demand answers.

  He’s in my bed every single night, so far, and he always tells me where he’s going and texts me throughout the day.

  I don’t think he’s really hiding anything, just omitting his exact whereabouts, because it’s something to do with the club.

  He says that they don’t tell anybody anything; they keep it to themselves and run everything they do secretly. I can’t help but wonder how illegal it all really is.

  My cell rings as I finish packing the last box and I am surprised to see Brentlee’s name flash on the screen.

  “Hello?” I ask in confusion.

  “Hey,” she says, sounding small—tired, maybe.

  “What’s up?”

  “You aren’t mad at me, are you?” she asks.

  I sigh heavily at the question. I should be mad at her. She let me walk home alone, and she didn’t stand up for me. But I can’t be upset with her.

  She’s always been the overachieving, perfect daughter. I wouldn’t expect her to buck our parents—ever.

  “No, Brent,” I concede.

  “You’re moving in with him, then?” she asks timidly.

  I hate that she seems scared.

  “Yeah. Today, actually. My entire house is packed and he should be here any minute to take the first load to the new place,” I admit, trying to hold back my smile. I can’t, though. I’m too flipping excited.

  “Scotty says that Fury is bad news, that the whole club is dangerous. He, uh, he doesn’t want me talking with you anymore. I’m so sorry, Kent. This sucks so bad,” she whispers.

  I can hear the tears in her voice.

  I want to tell her that it’s okay. I understand. But I hate it. I want my sister in my life.

  I’ve already lost my parents, isn’t that enough?

  I hate Scotty.

  He’s such a pretentious asshole, and he’s so fucking controlling, it’s unbelievable.

  Not that I don’t have my own controlling ass of a man, but unlike Scotty, I can’t imagine Pierce ever telling me I’m not allowed to talk to my own family.

  “I’m always just a drive and a phone call away, Brent. I’ll always be here, and I’m always your sister, no matter what,” I tell her.

  I hear her hiccup as she sobs into the phone.

  “I love you, Kentlee. I know we haven’t always been on the same page, but you’re my big sister, and I love you so much,” she murmurs between her sobs.

  It kills me.

  I want to hug her, I want to watch her walk down the aisle in her gorgeous wedding dress, and I want her to be part of my baby’s life.

  Unfortunately, we don’t always get what we want.

  I sit down on the couch and I have a good cry. I need it. I mourn the loss of my parents and my sister.

  While I don’t have them, at least I still have Connellee. My brother. My supporter.

  I hold hope that one day my family will reunite and mend all the wounds we’ve inflicted on each other, but for now I have to accept what’s happening.

  “What the fuck?” Pierce growls as soon as he walks through the door and sees me crying on the sofa.

  “Nothing,” I mumble, putting on a fake as shit smile.

  “You sure? Who do I need to fuck up?” he asks, taking the few steps he needs to be right in front of me.

  He shocks me by dropping to his haunches to look me in the eyes.

  “I’m sure, baby,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around his neck and bringing his mouth closer before I kiss him.

  “Right,” he grunts before he pulls me closer to him, spreading my lips with his tongue.

  “Fuck, my eyes,” Bates yells from the doorway.

  “Bates,” I cry out, surprised to see him standing in my living room.

  “Here to help you move, darlin’,” he mumbles.

  My shitty mood disappears because Bates’ is here, and he’s helping us. Just when I think my circle is doing nothing but shrinking, a silver lining appears.

  Today, that silver lining is Bates.

  “Stop lookin’ at my woman and start moving shit,” Pierce barks.

  Bates just grins before giving him a mock salute.

  Between the three of us, it only takes a couple hours to completely move my stuff into the new place, which looks empty as hell with only my furniture in it.

  Pierce only moves his clothes over, leaving all of his furniture in the small room of his at the clubhouse.

  I look around and try to envision where I’m going to put things; then I make a list of what I can buy to make it a bit homier.

  I can’t paint the walls, but I can add big framed prints. Soon, I’ll be able to add pictures of our little family—our baby—all over the walls. I have a feeling I’ll be filling the space up like crazy.

  “You like it?” Pierce asks after Bates has left.

  “Love it,” I sigh.

  He wraps his arms around me from behind, his lips sweetly touching my neck.

  “Glad my baby girl is happy,” he murmurs.

  “When do you leave? How long will you be gone?” I ask.

  I have a doctor’s appointment in a week and I want him there.

  “No more than a week,” he says as his lips skim my skin, sending chills over my whole body.

  “I have a doctor’s appointment next Friday. Do you think you could try and make it back for that?” I whimper as his hand pops the buttons of my shorts and dives into my panties.

  His finger skims my center and I push my ass into his hips, giving him room and silently begging for more. I cry out when he pinches my clit.

  “I’ll be here, baby girl. I’ll be here when you need me, sugar,” he vows as he slides two fingers inside of me, teasing me, barely entering my pussy.

  I want to grind down on him, and I even grit my teeth to keep from doing so.

  He’s in a mood, a slow mood, and no amount of begging will change the way he plans on fucking me.

  I’ve learned a lot this past week about how Pierce fucks. It’s never the same, and he comes home in moods.

  “Thank you,” I sigh as his fingers, finally, plunge all the way inside of me.

  “Need this pussy, baby girl,” he says as he kisses down my neck.

  He can have it.

  He can have whatever he wants.

  As long as he keeps touching and kissing me—I’m his to do with as he pleases.

  “Take it,” I moan.

  Pierce moves his fingers, using them to shove my shorts down before he fills be from behind. His hand on my back pushes me down, and I use my own hands to brace myself on the coffee table.

  I cry out when
he slides out of me and then slams back inside. Fucking perfect.

  “I’ll hold you up, sugar, just relax,” he commands.

  I do just that, waiting for him to fuck me, hard and fast from behind. Maybe I read his mood wrong a few moments ago.

  My head hangs down as he begins to slowly fuck me.

  Nope. I read him just fine. He just wanted to torture me.

  My legs shake with each plunge of his cock inside of me. It’s hard to keep myself standing, but it’s what Pierce wants, so it’s what I’ll do for him.

  I feel one of his hands leave my hip before he wraps his fingers around my nipple, pinching and pulling on the sensitive bud. I throw my head back with a surprised moan.

  “Pierce,” I cry out.

  “Fuck, yeah. So wet for me,” he mutters as his hips begin to slam a little more forcefully into the backs of my legs.

  His cock burns, it hits me so deep at this angle, stretching and filling me with each thrust.

  “I need to come, Pierce, please,” I shamelessly beg.

  At my words, his hand slides from my breast, down to my clit where he begins to pinch and rub firm circles.

  It’s too much, and it’s sublime all at once. My body feels like it’s strung up tight, wound and ready to explode.

  “Come, baby girl. Come around me,” he grunts.

  It doesn’t take much more persuasion. Pierce bites down on my shoulder and I scream his name while my whole body begins to shake with my climax.

  “Fuck. Yes,” he grunts as I feel his cock grow and then twitch inside of me, filling me with his release.

  I sigh at the full feeling.

  My heart is full, and so is my pussy.

  This man fills me in any way I can imagine, and every way I could dream up.

  “You need to rest,” he murmurs, pulling out of me before he picks me up and carries me to our bed.

  Ours.

  I can’t believe he’s going to be living with me one hundred percent—full time. I feel giddy and excited and happy—so blissfully happy.

  “I should clean up,” I murmur as my eyes begin to droop.

  I’m tired and sated. It’s been a long Saturday. Pierce chuckles from somewhere in the bedroom, and a moment later, I feel something warm between my thighs.

  I open my eyes and look down to see him cleaning my body of the leftover evidence of our lovemaking.

  “Pierce?” I question.

  This is the first time he’s done this, and I can’t believe how caring he’s being.

  “Sleep,” he whispers before his lips touch my lower belly.

  It’s a little rounder now, looking like I’ve eaten a big cheeseburger and am bloated, but he and I know that there’s a baby inside of there.

  The next morning, I wake up and I instantly know that I am alone. The house is just a bit colder, completely silent, and sad without Pierce milling around.

  I look to my nightstand to reach out and grab my phone to check the time. I find an envelope sitting there, instead.

  My name is written on the outside in sharp, manly writing. I open it and find a pile of cash and a note.

  Kentlee –

  Gonna be gone a week so here's some cash.

  Get whatever the fuck you need. House shit, food, whatever.

  I won't be around much but I'll text you every night.

  Take care of my baby and take care of you.

  -Pierce

  I run my fingers over the note, and can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face.

  Then, I take the cash out and count it. Three thousand dollars. I count it a second time, just to make sure, and then I stare at it in surprise.

  Pierce already paid the deposit and the first month’s rent on the house. He paid all the fees for opening utilities, too. There’s no way I can spend this much on food for just me.

  I decide that I can buy some maternity clothes, which I desperately need, and I want to look at prints to decorate the walls with.

  I grin to myself.

  I take half of the money and put it in the nightstand. No way do I need the full amount in clothes or pictures for the house.

  I spend the day shopping. Buying maternity clothes for work, and then for around the house.

  My clothing options have become slim lately, nothing is fitting, and rubber bands holding my jeans closed can only work for so long.

  Once I have bought some basics, I decide to look at the home decor store. As much as I want to go wild, I decide to stick with necessities.

  The whole trip only eats up seven hundred of the fifteen hundred I took with me.

  I go to the grocery store and spend another two hundred dollars, and then put the rest of the cash back in the envelope to join the half from this morning.

  Later that evening, my phone rings. I surprised to see that Pierce is calling me instead of texting.

  “Hello,” I answer excitedly.

  “Baby girl, how was your day?” he asks.

  His voice is low but the background noise is loud, like a party.

  “I went shopping, bought some maternity clothes. But Pierce, you left me way too much money,” I scold. He chuckles.

  “Sugar, spend it all. I have plenty. Miss you,” he murmurs.

  I hear a girl’s high pitch giggle in the background.

  “Pierce, where are you?” I ask. He doesn’t say anything.

  “Just campin’ at another club for the night, and then onward tomorrow morning. Having a few beers before I hit the sack, baby girl,” he grumbles.

  It makes my stomach flip, and not in a good way. I can hear the loud voices, male and female, in the background, along with loud music.

  He’s partying.

  I need to trust him, though. It’s hard, and I might have to force myself, but I need to do it.

  “Okay, Pierce,” I whisper, trying to keep my tears at bay.

  “Remember what I promised you, Kentlee?” he asks.

  I don’t say anything. I can’t. He’s promised me a lot, and so far, I think he’s delivered. Now, I’m not so sure.

  “Only cunt I want is yours, baby girl. Nobody else’s,” he vows. I nod like he can see me.

  “Only you, Kentlee,” he says again.

  “Only me,” I finally whisper.

  “There’s my good girl,” he says. I can tell that he’s smiling.

  “Okay, I’m okay,” I promise. I hear him laugh.

  “Get some sleep, sugar. I’ll call you tomorrow,” he promises.

  I hang up, feeling his promise is true; yet I can’t stop that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that’s telling me—something is not right.

  FURY

  Last night’s party was insane.

  Pussy everywhere—naked and waiting.

  My brothers know how to party, no matter what chapter we visit, and these Canadians are no different.

  I stayed true to Kentlee. I promised her I wouldn’t fuck any whores and I didn’t.

  That doesn’t mean I kept my eyes shut, though. I grin, thinking about all the little shows those whores put on for us last night.

  Fucking epic shit.

  Girl on girl is always a favorite view of mine, and those bitches did not disappoint.

  Now, I’m in work mode.

  This shipment has to make it to the Aryan’s or we’ll be out, not only a fuckton of cash, but also a client. I, personally, wouldn’t give a fuck about being out a client like these racist bastards.

  At this point, it wouldn’t be an amicable split. The last thing we need are more enemies. We have our hands full with the Bastards as it is.

  We make our way just back over the US/Canadian border and wait for the truck full of guns and ammo.

  If protection is what this truck wants, it’s going to get it. There are twenty-five of us waiting to ride this fucker from the border to Calgary.

  Five of my brothers and me, then twenty of our Canadian club brothers.

  I take over driving the truck.

  L
etting the paid-off driver leave, I take matters into my own hands.

  The roads are clear and it seems like we’re going to get the shipment where it needs to be, on time, and unharmed.

  It all seems way too easy.

  I watch as my brothers start peeling off from behind me, the bikes disappearing one by one. Suddenly, I am surrounded by cops.

  I slam on the truck’s breaks and come to a stop.

  Fuck.

  Fucking Shit.

  I watch as they step out of their police cars and draw on me. I look around and notice that I’m alone.

  Guns are drawn and I’m alone.

  Just a whole truck full of illegal guns and ammo trying to cross the border from the US into Canada, and me.

  Numbly, I follow the police officers barked orders, but my thoughts aren’t on them.

  My heart starts racing and images flash through my mind.

  I can’t stop myself from thinking about Kentlee and our baby.

  This is it for us.

  I am so fucking fucked.

  I narrow my eyes as I lift my hands at the officer’s commands.

  How in the fuck did they know I was transporting illegal guns? Unless they were tipped off somehow, a plain truck shouldn’t have drawn attention.

  I sit in the back of a patrol car, my mind moving from Kentlee to exactly what’s happening to me.

  Finally breaking out of my shock, the only conclusion I can come up with is that someone is in on it from the inside.

  Problem is, I don’t know who. My club or the Canadian club?

  Someone is dirty and I plan on smoking the fucking rat out.

  This isn’t the first time in my thirty-five years that I have been arrested, but this is the first time I give half a shit.

  This is the first time I have someone waiting for me.

  This is the first time I know I’m not going to just skate on by.

  This is also the first time I have been in serious fucking shit.

  I close my eyes and curse to myself as I am read my rights, as they march me toward a police cruiser.

  It doesn’t even matter.

  I’m fucked no matter what I do. I don’t say a word as I’m hauled to jail. My next step won’t be bail. I already know this.