Guns & Roses © 2109 Glenna Maynard
This is a work of fiction. Names characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual people, alive or dead, business, establishments, locals or events is entirely coincidental. Any reference to real events, business, organizations or locals is intended only to give the fiction a sense of realism and authenticity. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means – electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying), recording, or otherwise – without prior permission in writing from the author.
The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.
Dedication
To my Rebels & Devils…
Hell is empty and all the devils are here.
- William Shakespeare The Tempest
Guns & Roses
An arranged marriage between an outlaw and a cartel princess.
Forced to marry for survival, Ainsley knows her life is in danger. Torn between the life she desires and the life she has not all is fair in love and war. Her body is protected by her new husband, but what about her heart?
This is book 2 of Black Rebel Devils MC. Book 1 Moonshine & Mistletoe should be read first.
Contents
Dedication
Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Dear Reader
Suggested Reading Order
About Glenna
Available now
Preview Devil Dick
Preview Hell on Heelz
Preview Saving Me
Chapter 1
Abel
Hell’s Kitchen, Texas
“Shake that ass, baby,” Trucker howls and tosses some dollar bills at the stage. Oaklyn bats her lashes at him. Her sapphire eyes sparkle under the lighting overhead as she grinds on the pole.
“Work it,” Snoop barks. “Make that booty clap.” He pours some of his beer out on the floor.
“The fuck are you doin’?” I shake my head at the dumb bastard. He’s loyal but not too bright.
“Makin’ it rain.” He grins and does some stupid dance.
“You make it rain with money, dumbass,” ATL informs him. These fuckers just rolled in from Drag Creek, Kentucky to join my ranks. Fucking Raul Hernandez has a real hardon for my wife. Bastard is gonna learn soon I’m not one to be fucked with. This is my house and my town. Ainsley Leone belongs to me.
Our marriage may not be one of love, but she’s mine, and I protect what’s mine. I made a promise, and I never go back on my word. He’s gonna push me too fuckin’ far, and I’ll have to show him how Black Rebel Devils handle pieces of shit like him.
The song ends and Oaklyn bends down holding an arm across her tits and collecting her tips. Her long blonde hair dusts the black stage floor. I shoot her a wink. I’ll be balls deep in her mouth later. She’s a sweet ass who showed up about a month ago on the back of Harlem’s chopper and decided to stay.
Finishing my beer, I toss the empty bottle in a nearby trash can.
“You ridin’ out, Prez?”
I pull a pack of smokes from the inner pocket of my cut and tap the bottom of the package until one falls out. Lighting up and taking a hard drag, I blow the smoke out before responding. “Yeah, you boys don’t party too hard we got choir early in the morning. Be there.” I brought them out to show them a good time before I put them to work.
“Later, man.” ATL lifts his chin. The next girl is already on the stage, and I go out to my bike to wait on Oaklyn to go back to the clubhouse. I lean against the brick building and finish my cigarette. Minutes later that booty clapping blonde bombshell comes out the side door. Big Bear, head of The Drop’s security nods at me and closes the door behind her.
I grab her ass and pull her into me. “Hey, you.” Her red painted lips meet mine for a quick peck.
“Someone’s happy to see me.” She grins and rubs those slender fingers over my cock.
“You ready to ride?”
“Always.”
Taking her hand, we start toward my bike when my cell phone starts vibrating in my back pocket. I stop in my tracks and snort when I see the name flashing on the screen. With annoyance flickering through every cell in my body, I swipe my finger to accept the call. “Talk to me.”
“Hey, um do you think you can come home?”
My brows knit. “What the fuck for?” I stay at the clubhouse on the weekends.
“Just never mind. Forget it.” Ainsley huffs and hangs up on me.
Fuck. I shove my cell back in my pocket.
Oaklyn peers up at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothin’. You got somewhere I can drop you or is your car here?”
“I have my car, but I thought I’d stay with you tonight.” Her plump lips screw into a pout.
“Some other time. I have something to take care of.” I pull her in for a kiss goodbye. “Don’t be giving that pussy up to anyone.”
She laughs. “You don’t own me, Abel.”
“It’s a damn shame too.” I swat her ass and climb on my motorcycle. As I pull out, she’s walking back in the club probably to fuck Trucker for all the money he threw at her all night. I don’t give a fuck if she does. The bitch ain’t shit to me really. I roar down the road and take a right making for home.
Rolling up to the gate, it opens automatically for me. I salute the guard working the night shift and drive through. The front lawn is lit up and I drive on around to the garage to park my bike. The three-car garage holds Ainsley’s new car, a Maserati GranTurismo. Her graduation gift to herself. And yet she doesn’t want her daddy’s blood money. Yeah right.
I smoke another cigarette before going in. She doesn’t like me smoking in the house. Probably because it makes her think of Axel. I walk in through the back-patio doors and there she is. My wife’s dark hair hangs down her back in loose waves but has streaks of copper and red in the right light. She’s got on these little white shorts with pink hearts on them and a matching thin tank top. Petunia, her french bulldog barks at her ankles. Ainsley bends down to pick her up. I can’t help but gaze at her lean tan legs while getting a full view of her ass cheeks. She’d never be up on a damn pole, but I’d be a lair if I said I wouldn’t love to see her in action.
I open the back door and Ainsley jumps at the blare of the alarm. I smirk and put the password in before the police are alerted. “Easy, it’s me.” Petunia looks right at me and lets out a low growl.
“It’s alright, sweet girl, I won’t let that scary jerk hurt you.”
I roll my eyes as she cuddles the little tan butterball. “What did you want when you called?”
“It’s not important. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”
“Liar. It’s Friday night you know damn good and well you cockblocked my night.”
“I don’t care who you fuck.”
“That’s two. Want to go for three?”
She puts the dog down and moves to the fridge, taking out a fruit tray. “I had another delivery today.”
“What was it this time?”
Ainsley swallows her slice of cantaloupe. “It’s in the garbage out back. I didn’t know what to do with it.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“Thank you.”
“Anything else?”
“Nope.”
“So you called and had me running for some fucking flowers.”
“I told you to forget it. You came because you wanted to.”
“No, I didn’t come.”
This time it’s her doing the eye rolling. “Poor baby.” Popping a strawberry in her mouth she starts chewing and making a weird face.
“You okay?”
Spitting into a paper towel she shakes her head and tosses it in the trash under the sink. “Like you give a shit about me. I’m sure it was just too ripe.”
I move past her to go to the fridge. I take a bite of the strawberries. “Tastes good and juicy to me.” I lick my lips and grab a beer.
“Aren’t you going to get rid of it?”
“I said I’d handle it.”
“I know.” Her eyes widen and she slaps her palm over her mouth. Vomit spews between her fingers, and I spin her back to the sink. Ainsley throws up. Her chest shudders violently as she heaves. I grab her silky locks, holding back her dark mane. I flip the faucet on with my free hand and try not to look at the contents of the sink. She grips the edge of the deep basin, continuing to dry heave.
“Hey now.” I tuck the ends of her hair into the back of her top. I grab a paper towel and wet it for her to wipe her mouth with. I’m a dick but I can see that she’s not well.
Graciously, she accepts the wet towel. “I guess that delivery made me queasier than I thought.”
“You sure that’s it?”
“Yeah.” A belch passes through her lips. Her hand moves to her mouth. “Excuse me. I’m just gonna go upstairs to bed.”
“Later.” I frown as the smell from the sink hits me. Fuck. I stomp to the broom closet and grab a bottle of bleach and dump it. I gag and cover my nostrils with the collar of my t-shirt. What the fuck did she eat today? Damn. I finish up and go out back to see what message was sent today. You don’t marry a cartel princess and not inherit enemies. I knew what I was signing on for when I agreed to marry her.
Pulling the lid off the metal trash can, I find a red satin heart-shaped box on top of yesterday’s garbage. I grab it and walk back in the house so I can see better. Lifting the lid, I feel like a jackass for getting frustrated with Ainsley. Inside the box are crime scene photos of her father and grandmother. Cupping my jaw, I let out a breath and pull out my phone.
It takes Uno five rings before he answers. “Lo,” his tone is groggy. I can hear the baby fussing in the background. His ex gave birth to a son a few weeks ago. They named him Ruger.
“Got another delivery. I want to know that fuckers every move. If he shits I want to know what color. Feel me?”
“I’ll get Murphy on it.”
“Good.”
I end the call and plug my phone in to charge. I grab the gift box and take it out back to the firepit. After getting some lighter fluid I douse it and send the message up in flames. I’ve received it loud and clear. Raul is out for blood. Ainsley may be my brother’s cunt, but she wears my brand on her body. She bears my name. She’s mine to protect. The photos curl and turn to ash. The box begins to melt. I feel around in my pockets for that dime bag ATL slipped me earlier. Some of that good chronic shit he grows back in the sticks of Kentucky. As I lick the rolling paper, I look up and see Ainsley in our bedroom. Her hair is up in a towel and her ass is barely covered by another.
I fire up my puff puff pass and watch her go through her routine. Rubbing lotion all over. She drops the towel and walks into the closet. Losing sight of her I return my attention back to the firepit and wait till it burns out before I go inside.
Even though we are in the privacy of our house we still keep up appearances. Never show any weakness. Never let your enemy know where to hurt you the most. I kick off my boots at the back door. When I get upstairs to the master suite Ainsley is in bed and the lights are off. I go into the bathroom and strip down for a shower. I’m buzzed and feeling good.
The shower still smells of her lemon vanilla soap. Smells like a fucking cookie. The water sprays down on me, and I realize I forgot to close the bathroom door. Too late now. I’m not getting out and tracking water all over the place. I have the perfect view of my wife from our open shower. She’s on her side and the sheet is wrapped around her but low under her hip showing off the tattoo that represents my claim on her. The top she is wearing outlines the shape of her breasts.
I’d be a liar and blind not to see her beauty. But she doesn’t want me. She’s in love with my brother. Fine by me. Closing my eyes, I grip my cock in hand and think about her, remembering fucking her after we said I do. The way she gave her body to me so easily. So willingly she submitted to desire.
I haven’t touched her since. That doesn’t mean I haven’t wanted to.
I slide my fist up and down my shaft thinking about how tight and wet she was. The way her body responded to my touch. The sounds she made as I drove into her, pushing her to the limit. I jerk faster and harder. My jaw ticks as I spill my release in my hand. When I open my eyes, Ainsley is watching me.
Chapter 2
Ainsley
My stomach burns and I can’t sleep. Visions of those damn pictures Raul sent to me today keep dominating my thoughts. Seeing my grandmother’s dead hollow eyes. Her dead body laying in the bedroom doorway. The pool of blood surrounding her head. My father’s body sitting up in bed with no head. It was a clean cut and I pray death was fast for him. I keep telling myself that maybe none of this is real and when I wake up, this will have been a dream. Maybe I’m not married to a man who hates me because I fell for his brother first.
I can hear the shower running. That means Abel is sticking around. Soon he’ll slide into bed and sleep as far away from me as possible. I don’t know why he doesn’t stay in the guesthouse or in one of the other rooms down the hall. His men would probably find it strange that he insists on sharing a bed considering he can hardly stand to look at me. I know he keeps a whore.
It shouldn’t bother me, but it does. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m his fool. That he married me and took control of my father’s territory and keeps me locked up like his prisoner. I don’t go anywhere unless him or one of his boys in leather are with me. I shift in the sheets and roll to my back, scooting up the black leather padded headboard. The bathroom door is open and there he is. The bastard I married. He’s in the shower. Eyes closed, head back, his fist wrapped around his fat cock. Flames lick up my neck. He’s an asshole, but he’s fine as hell to look at. I should go over there and shut the door to give him his privacy but maybe he intended me to watch. Asshole.
I stare at him unable to look away. Unable to resist the temptation to touch myself. I slide my fingers down my shorts and palm my pussy. I may not like the man but I’m not dead. I add a second finger, and my nipples harden as I continue to watch him. Muscles tightening in his neck and face as he erupts in his hand. His release jetting out and disappearing with the spray of the water.
His eyes open locking on me. Shit. I freeze and pray he doesn’t know what I’m doing under the sheets. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. When I open them again, he’s out and has a towel wrapped around his waist. Abel continues with his ritual, brushing his teeth and flossing between them. I roll to my side and squeeze my eyes shut as he climbs into bed no doubt naked still. The strong scent of his soap wafts over me, and I inhale deeply, getting a good whiff. If anything, my husband smells amazing. Like Nautica cologne. I don’t know what it is about the scent, but it makes my nerves hum in awareness of his closeness.
“Did you enjoy the show, wife ‘o mine,” his husky voice rakes over my skin. The hair on my arms stands as he kisses my earlobe and sucks it into his warm soft mouth. For such a hard man he’s got the sweetest touch when he wants to be kind. I stay quiet not wanting to provoke this hot and cold man of mine. “I saw you watching me.” Stroking my cheek with a f
eather-light touch he trails a path down my throat. I was watching him and shamefully I enjoyed seeing him so vulnerable. I won’t admit it to him not in a million years, but my thighs quake at the sound of his voice and the feel of his breath caressing my skin. “I bet if I reach between your legs right now, I’d find you fuckin’ soaked.”
I squeeze my thighs tight my body betraying me. How do I hate the thought of him touching me and yet want nothing more right now than for him to take what he wants and give me what I need?
Pressing on my throat his grip strengthens. “Look at me.”
Top teeth sinking into my bottom lip, I dare to turn onto my back and face him. His hand slides down my chest and between the valley of my breasts. “You’re a beautiful creature.” Rubbing his thumb over my nipple he smirks at me. Continuing to toy with me his hand moves further to my belly. The pad of his finger traces small lazy circles in a pattern around my navel. “Maybe I should fuck you over and over again until I am damn sure there’s a baby in you. Maybe then Raul would see that he’ll never get to have you. Never get to taste your mouth.” Dipping his head down he presses his lips to mine. He traces the outline of my mouth with the tip of his tongue, daring me to part my lips and open up to him. Abel breaks away. “He’ll never touch you here.” Cupping me between my thighs he teases at my clit with his thumb. Touching me enough to make himself known but not enough to give me any real pleasure.
Every fiber of my being screams to be touched, pleasured, and wanted by him, but I won’t dare wiggle. I won’t break. I won’t arch my body to his touch and beg for more. And yet…I stretch ever so slightly into his hand. “Say the words and I’ll give you want you want.” Torturous lips drag down my throat. His tongue brushing along my skin ever so gently.
“No.” The word comes out in strained whisper.
Abel pinches my clit between his finger and thumb. “You sure?”
Oh God. My body aches for him, and I hate myself for it. Our gazes meet and we have a staring contest. He releases me from his touch, and I want to cry for him to do it again.
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