It takes me a few hours to get him cleaned up and into bed. I’m furious at Barry, and the club, and at West, too.
They’re all assholes, every single one of them. I don’t slide into bed next to West, but instead go out to the couch and turn a movie on the television.
I don’t even know what it is; I’m just staring at the characters as they go through their motions.
“Ivy,” a voice grunts next to me. I feel my body being shaken a bit.
“What?”
I sit up bleary eyed, looking around the room, and then my eyes meet West’s bruised and battered face.
“Baby, what are you doing out here?” he rasps with concern.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I shrug.
“I’m fine. We’re fine. It’s all good, baby,” he murmurs as he sits down next to me with a groan.
“You’re not good, and it’s partly my fault, and your own club did this to you. How can you be okay with all of this?” I ask as tears well in my eyes.
“This life has its own set of rules, Ivy. I broke one, a big fuckin’ one. I should have done things differently, but I didn’t. I don’t regret not doing them differently, either. Had I, then I would have missed out on the past two months. So, yeah, being banged up like this fuckin’ sucks. But it ain’t the end of the world, and now there’s no more hiding for us,” he shrugs.
“I hate how optimistic that whole speech was,” I grumble.
“Come to bed, babe, make your man feel better,” he chuckles.
“How? You’re a disaster,” I point out.
“You can give me a mouth hug,” he murmurs.
I can’t help it, I burst out laughing. Together, we walk toward the bedroom and I do give him that mouth hug. He comes with his hands wrapped in the back of my hair and his cock down my throat.
“Love you, Ivy,” he murmurs into my ear when I curl into his side, careful not to touch him too much.
“I love you, West—but I’m still pissed.”
“Yeah, baby, I know,” he sighs.
WEST
A week passes, and though my bruises are turning the color of bananas and my swelling is down, Ivy is still pissed. She tries to hide it from me, but I know she’s not talking to her brother.
Grease has eyed me warily a few times but hasn’t come outright and asked me anything. I hope that tonight will clear the air a bit.
Tonight is party night, and I’m taking my Old Lady to show her off to my brothers.
“Is this okay?” Ivy asks from the bedroom.
I make my way over to the room and my moth drops when I take in the sight of her. She’s standing in the middle of the bedroom in a tiny, little black skirt that barely covers her ass, and a skin tight, low cut tank that her tits are practically hanging out of.
Then my eyes scan down to her shoes. I have never fought not to get hard—not as much as I’m fighting it now—in my entire life. Her shoes are the tallest heels I’ve ever seen her wear.
I don’t speak. Instead, I walk up to her and wrap my hand in the back of her hair, wrenching her neck back and smashing my lips to hers as I lift her skirt with my other hand. I take the string on the side of her panties and rip it to shreds.
Ivy gasps in my mouth, but I could give a fuck. I need her, right here and right now.
I slide my hand from her hip, down to her thigh, and then her knee, hitching her leg around my waist before I plunge my tongue into her mouth and consume her.
I walk toward the dresser, until her ass is pressed against it, then I move my hand from her hair and lift her until she’s on the edge of the piece of furniture.
Ivy fumbles with my pants and pulls my cock out. Her small hand wraps around it and gently strokes me as I fuck her mouth with my tongue.
“West,” she moans.
“Need this pussy, hard and fast, baby,” I whisper against her lips.
“Take it,” she urges before she squeezes my dick.
I growl and then I move her hand and plunge deep inside her to the hilt. She throws back her head with a long groan. I don’t give her time to adjust to my size before I pull almost completely out of her and then sink back inside. I don’t stop,
I don’t slow, I just fuck her with all of my strength as I watch her accept me, take me, and find her pleasure in what I’m giving her.
Sliding a hand between us, I start rubbing firm circles against her clit as my other hand drifts up her spine, twisting into the back of her hair.
I can’t look at her face a second longer, or I’ll come too soon. Instead, I bury my face in her neck and inhale her sweet scent.
“West,” she whispers as her legs shake on either side of me.
“Come, baby,” I grunt, sweat dripping from my forehead.
“Oh, shit,” she curses. Then she yells out my name as her body goes taunt beneath me.
I don’t slow my movements or even reduce my power as I thrust into her tight body. I’m chasing my own release; and when I find it, I can’t stop my head from falling back or silence the loud groan that fills the air around us.
“So you like my outfit?” Ivy asks on a chuckle once we’ve both caught our breath.
“Fuck, it’s going to be difficult not to bend you over every single piece of furniture in the clubhouse and fuck you senseless,” I murmur, brushing my lips over hers and pulling out of her warm, tight heat.
“I don’t think Barry would like that,” she mutters as she rights her skirt and starts walking to the bathroom to clean up.
“He can’t say dick about it, even if he hated it. You’re my Old Lady,” I say as I tuck my dick in my pants and walk into the bathroom as she’s fixing her hair.
“What?” she asks with wide eyes.
“You’re mine now. He can’t say anything. Doesn’t mean I’d ever do anything to disrespect him like that or make you feel uncomfortable in any way,” I shrug.
Ivy walks up to me and wraps her arms around my neck before she presses her lips to mine.
“I love you, West,” she whispers.
“Let’s get the fuck outta here,” I grunt before I grab her ass and squeeze.
IVY
I’m thankful that nobody is outside of the clubhouse when we pull up. I hadn’t thought out my outfit all that well.
There’s no modest way to get off of West’s bike in the miniskirt I’m wearing. Luckily, I changed my panties, so at least I have those on underneath to cover myself a little.
“Ready?” West asks after I’ve righted my skirt and fluffed up my helmet head hair.
“Not really,” I deadpan.
“You’ll be fine, babe. I won’t leave your side,” he promises, kissing the side of my head.
Together, we walk into the clubhouse. I’m surprised by all of the smoke that lingers in the air. I haven’t ever been to a party here, and I’m in knots in anticipation of what’s going to happen.
When my eyes finally adjust, I see some scantily clad women walking around; but then there are also women dressed in jeans and tanks, just hanging on the arm of who I assume are their men.
West walks us right over to them and, suddenly, I feel like I stick out like a sore thumb in my teeny, tiny skirt and low-cut tank.
My eyes travel over to the girl standing next to MadDog, the president. She has long, dark hair and she looks to be around my age.
MadDog wraps his hand around her waist and I blink in surprise. He’s old enough to be my dad, but now that I look at him—not completely stressed out with a dead guy on my living room floor—I notice that he’s hot.
For a guy old enough to be my dad, he doesn’t look it. His blond hair is just a little grey at the temples, and he’s got a few wrinkles from being in the sun, but his body is tall and solid and he’s a total silver fox.
“Hey, everyone. This is Ivy,” West announces, shaking me out of my pervy thoughts about MadDog.
Everybody greets me with their names or road names, then MadDog smiles and introduces the girl at his side as Mary-Anne. He doe
sn’t say that she’s his Old Lady or anything, and it has me curious as to who exactly she is to him.
I look over to the bar and see my brother bellied up to it. I excuse myself and make my way over to him, West’s eyes never leaving me. I can feel them on my back, burning into me with his intense gaze.
“I’m still fucking angry,” I announce as I reach Barry’s side.
“Yeah?” he grunts, tipping his head slightly to look at me.
“Fuck yeah, you beat the shit out of my boyfriend,” I practically shriek.
“Don’t fuck with the bull; you’ll get the horns,” he grumbles, sounding exactly like our dad. I wrinkle my nose at the phrase and he chuckles, taking a pull from his beer.
“One day you’re going to come at me with some chick, and I’m going to beat the shit out of her just for the hell of it,” I announce.
I watch as Barry throws his head back in laugher, his booming voice filling the room around us.
“You do that, baby sister, I’ll fuckin’ sell tickets to the public,” he chuckles. I roll my eyes but give my big brother a hug, because I love the dumb bastard.
“Do it again and I’ll make your life hell,” I whisper against his ear.
“How?” he rumbles.
“I have all the baby albums,” I explain before I turn and walk away from him.
As the night progresses, I look around and find that the scantily clad women from earlier are now naked women, and they’re having sex, and everything else, with the rest of the men.
Nobody seems to mind. Then my eyes find my brother’s, and I gasp when I notice he’s getting a blow job from one of the women.
My brother.
I honestly didn’t know how tonight was going to go, but obviously he’s in his element. He’s perfectly content and disgusting all at the same time.
“Just don’t look,” Mary-Anne murmurs next to me, interrupting my thoughts.
“That’s my brother,” I groan, taking a drink of beer.
“Yeah, my brother is a Devil, but in Idaho,” she grimaces. “The more you come, the more shit you’ll see. Just think of it kinda like Vegas—what happens at the clubhouse stays at the clubhouse,” she shrugs.
“So are you…?” I ask, moving my eyes to MadDog, whose hand has fallen down to her ass now.
“We’re something,” she smiles.
“Let’s get the fuck to bed, baby,” West whispers in my ear.
“We’re too drunk to drive,” I point out.
“Got a room here, babe. Come upstairs and fuck your man,” he grunts, making me giggle.
“You better go take care of him, girl,” Mary-Anne giggles.
“He ain’t the only one needs some attention, sweetness,” MadDog points out with a grin.
I wave to Mary-Anne and say goodbye as West drags me toward his room. Once we’re inside and the door is locked, I turn around to face him and my belly clenches. His eyes are like liquid fire, and they’re aimed right at me.
“Fucked you hard and fast earlier, baby. Now, I need you to ride me nice and slow,” he murmurs.
“Yeah?” I breathe.
“Yeah. Then I’m gonna fuck you from behind. I’ve been thinking about that sweet ass all night, and I want to stare at it while my dick sinks into your tight pussy.”
I can’t stop my legs from quivering at his words. My pussy clenches and my nipples tighten.
I want all of that, every single thing he’s describing. West walks over to me and wraps his hands around my waist, yanking me into his chest. His lips brush mine.
“I love you, Ivy,” he whispers against my lips.
“I love you too, West,” I reply.
“Come ride my face, babe,” he grins.
I don’t respond. I don’t need to. What woman is going to turn such an enticing offer down after a night of drinking beside her man?
I spend the night making love to him, then being fucked by him; and although there’s a difference in the way he takes me, it’s always consistently with love. He fills me with it from the inside out.
I know that this man, no matter how reckless he was by breaking the rules to be with me, he would never be reckless with me or my heart.
He loves me with all that he is. I’m his, and he’s mine, and together—we’re going to make a beautiful life together.
One beautifully reckless moment at a time.
Rough & Ready
Notorious Devils MC Book Five
Miracles come in moments. Be ready and willing.
Wayne Dyer
Prologue
CLEO
I hear his boots hit the foyer, and I know he’s home. My heart starts beating rapidly in my chest, my belly begins to flutter, and my lips part into a huge smile. I jump up off of our bed, a bed we shared for only a week before he was shipped off to foreign lands to fight for my freedom. I don’t bother looking in the mirror to check my appearance. I know that only one person has a key to this house—and it’s him.
I am so very proud to be married to him. He’s good, and clean, and perfect. We’re young, of course; I’m only eighteen and he’s twenty, but what we have is beautiful. I knew, the moment my eyes met his stormy blue ones, that there would be no other man for me, ever.
I bound down the stairs and almost falter on the last two steps when I see him standing there in the foyer.
My eyes sweep his body, looking for any type of injuries. We’ve endured a long eight months apart since he’s been gone. He’s thinner, so much thinner, his face perfectly chiseled—almost gaunt. He’s standing there in his uniform, looking commanding—beautiful, even. Tall and thin, but handsome and all mine. It seems like he’s been gone from Texas and from my sight, for years.
When my eyes met his, I gasp.
They aren’t the warm, boyish blue ones that I had fallen in love with; they are cold and harsh. Dead.
I blink.
I run to him anyway, shaking off the shock at seeing the obvious coldness to his eyes, and jump into his arms. I feel his face in my neck, hear his nose inhale my scent, and I sigh at the beautifulness of the whole thing.
His arms wrap around my body as my legs lift up and around his waist, my own arms around his neck. I pepper his face with kisses. I didn’t expect him home yet. He wasn’t due back until tomorrow. I even have an outfit all picked out. Tonight, I was prepping. I’m only wearing one of his workout shirts that says AIR FORCE across the front and a pair of panties.
“Baby, you’re home,” I breathe, smiling wide.
He stares at me blankly.
“I am,” he agrees, his voice ragged.
Instantly, I decide he is just emotional and trying to hide it. Probably jet lagged, too.
“I didn’t expect you,” I state. His eyes immediately sharpen and turn ice cold.
“Who in the fuck were you expecting?” he barks harshly as he drops me. Luckily, my knees don’t buckle, and I don’t fall on my ass.
“Nobody. I was going to pick you up tomorrow morning. How did you get home?” I ask quietly.
“Got a ride,” he shrugs, leaving me alone in the foyer as he walks toward the kitchen.
I stand there for a moment, completely shocked by his attitude, by his quick anger, and then I follow behind him. He’s never been angry with me before. I’ve seen him get pissed with other people, with his friends, but never, ever with me.
“Fuck, I’m starved,” he announces as he opens the fridge and starts rifling through it.
It’s as if he hasn’t been gone for eight long months; like he’s just had a long day at work, and now he is home for the evening. I don’t know what to say or what to do. He’s acting so strangely.
Granted, I don’t know him that well. We only dated for a few months before we were married, and then he was gone. But I don’t think this is normal. I didn’t expect this at all.
“You didn’t get me any fuckin’ beer?” he barks, making me jump again.
I just stand in the kitchen, unable to speak, move, or even
breathe.
“I-I-I,” I don’t get anything else out because I start to cry.
I turn to run back to the bedroom, tears streaming down my face. I can’t buy him beer. He knows that. He can’t even buy beer. I didn’t know he expected me to have it. I didn’t know what he expected of me. I feel so stupid and scared, and so very foolish.
Every single phone call and e-mail he sent had been sweet, kind even—never once had he talked to me this way. I don’t know what to do, and I have a sinking feeling that becoming his wife was a grave mistake.
I feel an iron band clamp around my bicep, and it stops my body from fleeing. Then I am hauled backward into a hard chest. I feel his nose at my ear before he whispers, his breath warm on my skin, his voice soft but ragged, and it sends shivers up and down my spine.
“Christ, Cleo, I’m sorry. I’m bein’ an ass, and I ain’t even been home ten minutes. Fuck the beer. Let’s go upstairs. Eight months without your sweet pussy was long enough.”
I press my thighs and my lips together as I nod. Eight months has been a long time, especially for a girl who was a virgin on her wedding night; a girl who only had sex with her husband for one week before he was deployed.
“You still my shy girl?” he asks.
One of his hands slips down the front of my belly and under the hem of his shirt before diving into my panties. I whimper at the feel of his large, warm hand on my mound. His finger slides through the folds of my most intimate place. I wrap my hand around his tanned, muscular forearm, trying to brace myself.
“Yeah, that’s right. Fuck, still my shy, sweet, innocent wife, aren’t you?” his voice is soft, but there’s an edge I don’t quite understand.
Two seconds later, it doesn’t matter, because one of his fingers slides deep inside of me. I gasp and arch my back.
It feels good.
He feels good.
I missed this.
Every piece of it.
Paxton quickly pushes my panties down my thighs and pulls my shirt off, spinning me around to face him. His eyes look up and down my body, but it’s as if he’s looking straight through me. I feel like I could be anybody. Who I am doesn’t matter because he isn’t seeing me.
Notorious Devils MC Complete Collection: BoxSet Page 113
