Notorious Devils MC Complete Collection: BoxSet

by Hayley Faiman

  I swiftly walk toward Rosalie’s room and knock on her door, announcing that it’s time to go. She grumbles from the other side. I ignore her and head to the car. I’m honestly just trying to get through my evening so that I can finally break down.

  Today has been extreme. I’ve gone from giddy and excited, to scared, to angry and now, a mixture of anger and sadness rolled into one.

  The kids load up in the car and I put it in reverse and start to drive toward the baseball fields. It doesn’t take me long to get there, they’re only down the street and I decide that maybe next time, we’ll just walk instead. Letting out an exhale, the boys practically sprint out of the car but I don’t move.

  I look out in front of me, and stare at nothing, taking in nothing, and just breathe.

  “Mom?”

  Turning my head, I look to my daughter who is sitting in the passenger seat. “You and Dad, things aren’t good, are they?” she asks.

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

  Rosalie has always been my sensitive child, and she sees so much more than the boys do.

  “He doesn’t ever come home. Tori says that’s because he’s sleeping around on you. She’s not right, is she? I mean I told her it was a lie, but he’s really never around anymore, Mom.”

  I could kill my bitchy little brat of a niece. If there was ever a child I wanted to hurt, it would be her. Fuck that little bitch. Not that West’s sister is much better, let’s just say that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. She’s constantly shoving her nose in our business, and it doesn’t help that she lives right across the street from us.

  “Rosalie, what happens between a husband and wife is just that, between a husband and wife. All you need to know is that me and Daddy love you very much, you and your brothers,” I murmur.

  She snorts and swings the car door open. “Guess I better start deciding who I want to live with now,” she states before she slams the car door closed.

  Closing my eyes, I try to keep the tears at bay, but one falls anyway. I exit the car as well, making my way over to the bleachers to watch the boys play.

  Rosalie keeps her distance from me, but her gaze comes over to where I’m sitting throughout the boys’ practice. I can tell she’s thinking, and as much as I want to placate her fears, I can’t.

  I honestly don’t know what’s going to happen between me and West. I know that without a doubt I love him with all of my heart, but I have a feeling that what he’s interested in, sexually, may not be things that I can fulfill.

  The rest of the evening I’m on autopilot. Rosalie keeps to herself, the boys do as well. Once dinner is consumed, and Rosalie’s done the dishes, she goes to bed. The boys, that I know of, don’t notice anything different and it’s the same nighttime routine as always with them, of which I’m thankful for.

  I tell all of the kids goodnight, and kiss them on the forehead before I take myself to bed—alone. West hasn’t attempted to call or text. I don’t know when, or if, he’ll come home tonight and I’m trying to decide if I really want him to. In an attempt to make myself feel better, I decide to take a long hot shower. When I’m finished I pull on a soft cotton nightgown and crawl into bed.

  The phone on my nightstand dances with an incoming call, just as I’m lying down. I glance at the name and let out a sigh. “Hello,” I answer.

  “Staying at the club tonight,” West slurs.

  Closing my eyes, I nod as though he can see me. “Anything else?” I ask.

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  I don’t want to get into an argument over the phone. In fact, I don’t want to get into an argument at all. What I want is for us to go back to the way we were. I want my sweet husband back. I want all of this shit to just disappear.

  “Nothing, West,” I whisper.

  He ends the call without saying anything else and that is when my resolve breaks. That is the moment my tears begin to fall. I never imagined that my life would be this way, that I would ever feel this way. Not only do I feel alone, I also feel inadequate—so fucking inadequate.

  My new job starts in just a few days and I have so much to do in preparation. I can’t dwell on my marriage right now. I need to focus on the kids, on my job, and on my household. If West wishes to be part of that, then that’s fine, if he doesn’t, then we need to talk about what the future looks like.

  CAMO

  Pixie crawls over to me and wraps her hands around my thighs, sitting between my legs. “I notice you always watching, Camo. Come join,” she smiles.

  I take her in, she’s cute and young, but she’s not Ivy. No matter what funk we’re in, how mad we are at each other, Ivy’s always been the woman for me. I hate this feeling of push and pull that’s become the norm between us.

  “Not tonight,” I grunt as I move to stand on a sway.

  She shrugs before turning around and crawling back over to the man who just fucked her. Stumbling, I walk out of the room and into the bar. I’m fucking drunk, completely gone. The room is blurry and hazy as I walk toward the bar.

  “That’s about enough,” a voice booms. I jerk my head over to the side and see Ivy’s brother, Grease standing next to me.

  “Not done,” I slur.

  Grease wraps his meaty hand around my shoulder and gives me a squeeze. It’s rough and almost causes my knees to buckle, but by some miracle, I stay standing upright.

  “I’m taking you home to your wife,” he grunts.

  I shake my head, but he doesn’t acknowledge my refusal. “I don’t give a fuck what’s happening between you two. But what I do know is my niece called me in tears because you’re never home and she’s convinced you and Ivy are divorcing. Now, I’m not asking about your relationship with my sister, but your kids notice something’s off, and that shit ain’t cool with me. I’m taking your ass home, now.”

  Clamping my lips shut, I don’t respond. I also don’t fight with him. I follow behind him to his pickup truck. Climbing into the passenger seat, closing my eyes as I lean back against the headrest. “How do you and Serina make it work?” I ask.

  Grease clears his throat but doesn’t answer right away. “You mean, our sex life?” he guesses. I grunt as my response. “No secrets, Camo. We don’t do secrets. I know what she likes, and she knows what I like. We set boundaries a long time ago, and we’ve stuck with them.”

  “Boundaries?” I chuckle.

  “Yeah, smartass, boundaries,” he growls. He drives for a few more minutes in silence, then he speaks again. “Serina knows that if she wants to fuck someone else, I’m there, and vice versa. We also don’t bring other people into our actual home. That is our place, our space, it’s not meant for anybody else.

  “Listen, what you and Ivy are into, that’s your business. I won’t be pissed, or whatever if you’re worried about me. I will however, urge you to talk to her and stop avoiding your house, and your goddamn family,” he growls as he slams the brakes on.

  My head jerks up and I realize we’re sitting in front of my house. I let out a grunt and open the door, ambling out of the pickup truck. I slowly make my way to my front door, then I hear Grease’s tires squeal behind me. Digging around for my keys in my pocket takes me three tries to finally get them out. Then it takes me another three tries to actually open my front door.

  I stumble toward my bedroom and slip inside, locking it up behind me when I do. Ivy is asleep in the bed, her blonde hair wild around her head, lying on her side and facing away from my side of the bed. Removing my clothes, I leave them in a pile on the floor before I join her, crawling up to lie down next to her.

  Wrapping my hand around her stomach, I press my lips against the back of her neck and inhale her familiar scent. She lets out a moan and just the simple sound gives me a semi. Slipping my hand down her center, I let out a moan of my own to find her wearing one of my favorite nightgowns.

  Bunching the fabric in my hand I pull it up to her waist, then I drift my hand down her panties and graze
her pussy with my finger. She doesn’t move, still deep in sleep. I alternate between playing with her clit and her slit, dipping my finger inside of her every so often.

  Her hips jerk beneath my touch and I can’t help but smirk. “West,” she moans as she lifts her arm behind me and twists her fingers in my hair.

  I tug her panties down, moving my hand from her center to wrap around the back of her knee and spread her wide. Without a word, I align my cock with her pussy and slowly fill her.

  Moving my other arm, I slide it from her waist down to her clit and start to rub against her with firm circles. “Make yourself come, fuck me,” I growl against her neck.

  Ivy’s body jerks once, then her hips start to roll and thrust as she grinds down against my cock. I squeeze behind her knee trying to keep from coming too quickly. I love it when she takes from me, when she unabashedly fucks me to find her own release. Watching her selfishly enjoy my body is fucking beautiful.

  I slap her clit with my fingers which causes her thighs to shake and she tries to close them. My grip tightens even more as I force her legs to stay open, pounding up inside of her, harder and faster.

  She pushes back, her ass pressing against my stomach and we meet each other’s thrusts. It’s hard, relentless and fucking perfect. I continue to slap her clit until she sobs out, as her pussy clamps down around me.

  Only then do I fuck her, my fingers staying pressed against her clit as I slam inside of her until it’s my turn to find my climax. Once I’ve come, I release her knee, and she lets it fall against the other one. Her pussy is so tight this way that I have to grit my teeth. I continue to fuck her, taking her tight heat as she attempts to catch her breath.

  Her fingers are still twisted in my hair and she tugs back gently on my fifth stroke. “I’m so tired, and I have to be up at five,” she whispers.

  Pressing my lips to her shoulder I slip out of her body, but I don’t roll away. Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her against my chest. “Love you, baby,” I murmur against her shoulder.

  She doesn’t respond but I feel her inhale deeply and let out a shaky breath. I don’t know what she thinks she saw or what she thinks was happening, but I know that I’ve hurt her.

  I just need to decide how I’m going to handle it, now. It isn’t an easy decision, and I know that the longer I stay silent the harder it’s all going to be.

  “How did you get home?” she asks a few minutes later, her voice husky and raspy with sleep.

  Squeezing her even closer to me I murmur my answer, telling her that her brother Barry drove me home. She falls asleep almost immediately after that, guilt crawls up my throat.

  We need to talk.

  This thing between us is only going to fester and grow.

  Why in the fuck can’t I talk to my own goddamn wife?

  Chapter Six

  CAMO

  The pounding in my head won’t quit. I crack my eyes open and then I realize that it’s not my head, it’s actually at the fucking front door.

  Reaching around on the floor for my jeans, I pull them on over my hips. I zip them before I run my hand through my hair, stumbling toward the front door.

  Yanking it open with a scowl, I’m surprised to see my mother standing on the other side. Wearing a matching scowl to mine.

  “We need to have a chat,” she announces.

  Opening the door a little wider, I stand to the side and let her in. Looking around the house, I wonder where Ivy is. She’s always around.

  Closing the door behind her, I follow her into the kitchen. I watch as she starts my coffee maker, and then begins to pull food out of my refrigerator, as though she’s at her own home. She’s here often enough that it shouldn’t shock me how comfortable she is, but it still kind of surprises me.

  “What do you want to talk about?” I sigh as I lean back.

  She hums, and it’s disapproving as fuck. I hate that. I love my mom, and I never want to disappoint her. “You have problems. I’m not going to ask intimate details, although, by the looks of things, I probably should.”

  I blink at her words and my mouth hangs open a little in surprise. “What are you going on about?”

  “Rosalie came to me, Tori said some things to her. It wasn’t right what Tori said, or the way she said it but I can’t deny that it wasn’t what all of us are already thinking,” she sighs.

  “What’d that little bitch say to my daughter?” I growl.

  My mother grips the countertop and hangs her head slightly before she brings her gaze to mine. “Don’t call your niece that, West,” she whispers. “I don’t remember verbatim. However, I will tell you my observations. You’re not coming home at night. Your kids see it and your sisters and I see it. You don’t show up to things like your children’s baseball games or school functions. It’s a wonder how Ivy hasn’t already left your ass. You aren’t present. I’m actually pretty shocked to see you home right now. However, you look hungover, so I assume someone dropped your ass off here last night?”

  I grunt. Unwilling to tell my mother that she’s right because she is just that. I haven’t been present, and I’ve been a shit husband and father.

  “Then there’s Ivy. It’s not lost on everybody that she’s changed her entire appearance, down to her clothing style. I know for a fact she’s at the salon right now making some more changes. Plus, she’s starting her new job next week. Care to explain all of that to me? It looks like she may be doing exactly what I’d hoped she wouldn’t, which is planning to leave your ass.”

  Sitting up straight, my entire body goes tight at her words “New job?” I question.

  My mom shrugs as she turns to get a bowl out of the cabinet and starts to crack eggs. “Yeah honey, she was hired at the dentist office in town as a receptionist. She asked me to help with the kids after school stuff here and there. I’m happy to do it, it’ll be nice to spend some more time with my grandbabies,” she says as she goes about making breakfast in my kitchen.

  “I’m worried about you two,” my mom admits a few minutes later when she slides a plate with toast and scrambled eggs in front of me.

  Shaking my head, I pick up my fork. “We’re fine, Mom,” I lie.

  She makes a tsking sound and taps her finger on the counter. “No, you aren’t. I know what my babies look like when they’re happy and when they aren’t. You are not a happy man, West. Fix it. Whatever it is—fix it. Me and your daddy, we didn’t, and he left. Don’t bury your head in the sand and assume that it’ll get better because it won’t.”

  I watch as she straightens and leaves my kitchen, the front door closing softly behind her. Letting the fork fall to the plate with a clank I run my hand through my hair again. She’s right. None of this shit between us is going to get better, it’ll only get worse. Now, my wife has gone out and landed herself a job and she didn’t even fucking tell me about it?

  My body fills with anger and I take the plate and toss it in the sink, uncaring if it breaks. Jogging toward my room, I take a quick shower and dress. I need to talk to my fucking wife and it can’t wait.

  Once I’m dressed I slam the front door behind me and jog to my bike. I’m glad that Grease sent a prospect to drop it off sometime between last night and this morning.

  Apparently, my wife and I need to have a discussion about what in the fuck is going through her fucking head.

  IVY

  Blinking, I look back at myself in the mirror in surprise. My hair is lighter than it was when I stepped inside of the salon. Teeny, one of the Old Ladies, went to beauty school a few years ago. She added some gorgeous light blonde highlights. Then she cut it to just below my shoulder blades. I didn’t think that I would want any length taken off, but I love it.

  “What do you think?” Teeny asks as she wrings her hands together.

  I haven’t touched my color or cut my hair in so long that I’m completely shocked by how much different I look. In fact, I feel like my face looks at least ten years younger, and I know my hair feels five pounds lig
hter.

  Turning to her, I stand and wrap my arms around her. “I love it so much, thank you,” I whisper.

  Breaking our hug, I glance at the door when I hear the bell ding. When I see who walks through, I freeze. West’s eyes meet mine and he’s furious.

  I blink, unsure of what he’s so mad about but I know that he won’t say anything in front of Teeny. Reaching into my pocket, I hand her the money she’s owed and tell her goodbye.

  “Umm, bye,” she whispers from behind me as I quickly walk up to my husband.

  I don’t say anything to him, just scoot past him as I walk out of the front door and head toward my car. I can hear his heavy boot falls behind me and my heart speeds up with each step I take.

  When I arrive at the passenger side of my SUV, I turn around and watch him close the distance between us. He doesn’t stop a few feet away from me. No, he stands so close that his chest is pressed against mine, and I have to crane my neck back in order to look into his eyes.

  “When were you planning on telling me that you got a job?” he barks. Anger spilling from every part of him.

  Exhaling I close my eyes slowly before I reopen them. “You told me if I wanted to continue going to Chad that I would need to get a job. So, I got a job.” I shrug.

  West lifts his hand and slams it down on the car next to my head. I jump and pinch my eyes closed, my body immediately trembling in fear. Never has West ever even attempted to hit me. Not that I think he would have this time, but he was a little too close for comfort and he’s scaring me. This new West is downright frightening.

  “Not gonna fucking hit you, Ivy,” he grunts. Slowly, I reopen my eyes and just gaze up at him, waiting for him to continue. “You doing all this shit? The working out, the clothes, the hair, and the job, to leave me?” he asks, lowering his voice.

  Reaching up, I wrap my hand around the side of his neck and really look at him. Behind the anger in his eyes, there is a sea of confusion. I hate it. I hate how both of us don’t know what the hell is happening between us. It hurts so damn bad, and neither of us is doing anything—or knows how—to fix it.