The Notorious Devils MC: Complete Collection BoxSet

by Faiman, Hayley

  I don’t fuck around. I lick the underside of him from base to tip before I open my mouth and take him inside of me. Max’s eyes bore into mine and I know that he wants control, I can practically feel the need radiating from him.

  I wrap my hands around the sides of his bare thighs and I moan around him. He sighs as his hand grips my hair and he holds my head still. Then, he begins to gently thrust in and out of my mouth, fucking my throat.

  “When I come, it’s going to be down your throat, sweetness,” he grunts as he starts to thrust a little harder.

  “Fuck, Mary, your mouth feels like fucking heaven,” he says a few thrusts later.

  I watch him, my blood roaring throughout my own body, the need inside of me building, feeling as though I’m the most desirable woman on earth because I can make him so damn happy.

  “You ready?” he grinds out through clenched teeth. Then he sinks so far down my throat I fight to breathe as he fills me with his hot cum.

  “Fuck,” he roars, throwing his head back. It’s a gorgeous sight to witness.

  He pulls out of my mouth and then brings his pants back up and zips them, leaving the top button and his belt undone before he crouches down in front of me and looks at me. His fingers clean up some of the saliva from my face, and his eyes soften in an instant.

  “You like your man watching out for you?” he murmurs.

  “Bates has only ever watched out for me,” I say quietly. “Can you try not to kill everybody that maybe isn’t so nice to me, though?”

  “They physically hurt you, or even attempt to, then sorry—no-can-do, sweetness,” he chuckles. “I couldn’t let what he did to you go unpunished, Mary.”

  “I know,” I whisper.

  Max wraps his arms around me and pulls me off of the bed and into his arms, my face going to his neck and his face doing the same in mine. I hold onto him with all of my strength, still feeling so damn safe, it’s almost scary.

  Wrapped in his arms, after he’s admitted to killing a man, should make me feel terrified, but I’m not. In fact, I breathe a sigh of relief. Kyle is gone and Max is here with me, holding me and promising to take care of me.

  I’ve never been happier.

  Ever.

  Chapter Ten

  MARY-ANNE

  The next morning, I anxiously wait for the Old Ladies to arrive. Only the men ended up coming last night to pick up the furniture, leaving us with just a bed to sleep in for the night. Max insisted that everything be removed from the house.

  It felt awkward.

  These were his things, but also things that he’s had for years and shared with his wife. I don’t want to be that woman, the woman who comes in and rearranges everything, erasing what he had for so long.

  Looking around while I wait, I feel nothing but guilt consuming me. The house is empty, save for pictures on the walls, and knickknacks that are now in boxes on the floor, shoved into corners. I feel like a shitty person.

  The only room that is still intact is Fury’s teenage bedroom. Max said that we could pack it up and take it to him when we make our next trip to Idaho, as if we’ll be together and it will all be sunshine and roses.

  But it wouldn’t feel right to pack up Fury’s things. I hope that maybe he and Kentlee will come to town, and he can clean it out himself.

  Then I think about making a trip to Idaho, and that means seeing Bates. I know my brother. He’s going to flip his shit when he finds out I’m with Max. Even though I’m not technically his Old Lady, just the fact that we’re sleeping together will make my brother go insane.

  The doorbell rings and it makes me jump. I turn and walk to the front door, looking through the peephole to find four women, the Old Ladies Max sent over to help me, I assume. I open the door with a big, fake smile plastered on my face to see them scan me from top-to-toe and then back up.

  “She’s young,” a brunette says, turning to a blonde.

  I’d say the brunette is in her late forties, but the blonde is in her twenties, around my age, if I had to guess.

  “But gorgeous,” another blonde says with a smile. “I’m Bobbie, Roach’s Old Lady,” she grins, holding her hand out to shake mine.

  “I’m Mary-Anne,” I say as I shake hers. Then I step aside to let them in.

  “MadDog did not fuck around. I’m Texas’ Old Lady, Colleen, by the way,” the brunette mutters, walking past me.

  “Genny, I belong to Soar,” the other blonde announces as she breezes past me and into the once flowery decorated living room.

  I blink, unsure of how she, who seems so very no-nonsense, is attached to Soar, the man who claims to be high all of the time.

  I look to an extremely petite redheaded girl, who hasn’t said a word, and she smiles before she whispers her name is Teeny and that she belongs to, Mammoth.

  “We have some serious work to do. Luckily, MadDog left cash, and plenty of it. So how about we inventory the kitchen and then head out?” Colleen asks. I can tell she’s the ring leader of the bunch.

  “I think I might just ask the guys to bring everything back. This is too much,” I murmur.

  “Why would you do that? This is your home, right?” Genny asks, her brows knit together in confusion.

  “This place hasn’t been touched in over thirty years. Me walking in and changing it all, it feels wrong,” I murmur.

  “Listen, I knew who Eleanora was; not well, but when I was a kid, I remember her. My dad was a member. I’ve been around since I was born. She didn’t come to the clubhouse often. She came for family things, like barbecues. She tried to be part of the club, she claimed her status as an Old Lady, but she wasn’t immersed. I saw her around, but I don’t think that the club was for her. For MadDog, she fought and she tried.

  “MadDog didn’t spend a lot of time here with her, though. He was all about the club. That club has always been his life, his family, and his home. This place never really was his home, not really. I have a feeling you’re a different kind of woman, one who wants her man happy, and one who cares if he’s in her bed at night?” Colleen announces.

  I gasp at her words, as does Bobbie, and even quiet Teeny.

  “I care where he is,” I murmur.

  “Right. Then part of that is making this a home for the two of you to share. He didn’t keep it this way as a shrine to her. He kept it this way because he’s a man and he didn’t give a flying fuck. He didn’t live here. He slept here on occasion, and his son was raised here, but that’s it,” Colleen says. It aligns with what Max told me about his marriage and his life.

  “Okay,” I agree.

  “Now, what color are we going to paint this room?” she asks, looking around.

  The wallpaper, yes, wallpaper, is an awful French blue background with pink flowers covering it. I bite my bottom lip and think about Max, about what he would like. Nothing feminine, but yet, something soft and soothing.

  “What about a light dove grey with white baseboards and white crown molding?” I ask as I bite my bottom lip.

  “She’ll do,” Genny announces.

  We spend the next two hours going through every room in the house, except Fury’s, and make notes on what colors to paint them and what furniture and accessories we need to buy for them.

  It’s fun, and by the end, I’ve come to realize that these women aren’t nearly as scary as I had anticipated. They’re nice, like Kentlee and Brentlee, and the Old Ladies in Idaho.

  “Lunch, then paint swatches?” Teeny asks, her voice still very soft and quiet.

  “If we pick out the paint colors, then the guys can get working on it first thing tomorrow. I bet they could have the whole inside of the house painted by the time we go furniture shopping.” Colleen says.

  “What about the floors? All this awful shag carpet has to go,” I point out.

  “We’ll pick that out, too. There are a ton of guys that will come out to the house. I bet we have this place completely remodeled by end of week,” Genny says.

  “All we’ll d
o is pick out what you want and tell them, let them worry about measuring and how much to buy,” Colleen suggests with a shrug.

  “I think I should call Max,” I mutter.

  “Yeah, you do that, call your man,” Genny says.

  There’s an edge to her tone, and there’s something I don’t necessarily like about it.

  “I can’t just do things without talking to him,” I say defensively.

  “Of course you can’t. Most Old Ladies ask their man’s permission for everything. I know I do,” Bobbie chimes in. Genny rolls her eyes.

  I assume Genny thinks she rules the roost, but I wonder what things are really like. Does Soar pretend to be one thing with her, and then completely different when she’s not around? I feel catty for even thinking about her relationship, about her life, so I will myself to stop.

  I shake my head of the mean thoughts that are rolling through it and decide to call Max. This is his house, not mine, and I’m just staying here. I’m not his Old Lady, I’m not his wife, either, I’m just his—something.

  This undefined, committed, monogamist something we have between us—where we live together, sleep together, and get to know each other—something.

  We’re in a relationship, is what we are, but neither of us is willing to define that, not yet at least. Maybe if we were closer in age, maybe if Sniper weren’t my brother, maybe if we would just both come out and say what we want. But we’re both avoiding, and for whatever reason, I’m perfectly fine with that right now.

  “Mary,” Max grunts when he answers my call.

  “The girls want to go pick out flooring, paint colors, and countertops. We’re not going to order anything, because I honestly wouldn’t even know how to order the right amounts. I just wanted to make sure that it was okay with you, to pick it out and then bring home the samples tonight,” I say, walking away from the women.

  “Yeah, sweetness that’s good. Why don’t you pick out some new appliances, too. Those that we have are old as shit and have to be on their last leg. Make sure they have what you want in stock so that I can get it tomorrow. I’ll have some guys and prospects over. Hopefully we can bang all this out in a few days.”

  “Seriously?” I breathe.

  “Wasn’t fuckin’ around with you when I said we’d remodel the place to what you wanted, Mary. You pick it all out, and I’ll get working on it tomorrow. I’m going to be shorthanded here in a couple of weeks, so the sooner the better,” he murmurs.

  I can’t help myself, I can’t stop myself from smiling—huge.

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  “I’ll be home later tonight. Have fun with the girls,” he murmurs.

  I feel a thrill run up my spine—home, tonight. Home. This is going to be our home; and though we’ve rushed like a freight train into this—something—we have going on, I can’t help but feel giddy and completely lovesick at the thought of what’s to come.

  “Get your permission?” Genny asks, rolling her eyes.

  “As a matter-of-fact, I did, and he told me to pick out new kitchen appliances as well,” I say with a shrug.

  “Let’s get moving then,” Colleen shouts happily.

  We all follow her to her giant SUV and pile inside. We decide to get lunch first, all of us not really thrilled at the chore of going to the hardware store on an empty stomach. Then we spend the rest of the afternoon picking out paint colors, appliances, flooring, and countertops.

  By the end of the night, I never want to see another home improvement store again for the rest of my freaking life.

  The paint colors were so overwhelming that, by the end, I didn’t even give a shit if my bedroom was Dragons Blood or Salty Tears. I ended up just letting Colleen choose. As long as it was about the color we’d talked about, I didn’t care anymore.

  MADDOG

  I stand outside of my house. Yellow, the color that Eleanora picked out the day I bought it for her. Looking around, I can’t help but let my mind drift back to Eleanora, and then I’m filled with guilt and regret.

  I didn’t do enough for her while we were together. I didn’t love her enough, not like I should have—not like I could have.

  Another story of a biker fucking up a good girl, a girl I loved but didn’t know how to really show her. I didn’t know how to feed that love and make it grow, not at the age I was.

  I tried to keep her as far removed from the club life as I could. It pissed her off, because she felt like I was hiding things, and she was right.

  It wasn’t the place for her.

  She fought and fought to be a good Old Lady, to be what I needed, but I wouldn’t let her. Not the way she wanted. By doing that, I think I kept her at an arm’s length in every aspect of my life, and that shit was not good for us.

  I try to shake off the thoughts of the past, knowing that I can’t change them. But I can be a different man now—for Mary, I can be a better man.

  Walking into the house, I take note of how empty it is, how empty it feels. It’s as if the heaviness of the past has lifted, like this could possibly be a clean slate for us. Just ridding the house of furniture and her things has lightened the entire inside of the home.

  I make my way upstairs, on a mission to find Mary. It’s the only place she can be, considering we’ve only kept one piece of furniture in the house, and that’s the bed.

  I walk into the bedroom to see her lying on her side. She’s asleep, still dressed in what she wore for the day—a pair of tight jeans and a loose V-neck shirt, which seems to be what she’s most comfortable in. She always looks hot as fuck in them, too.

  Her hair is pulled up into a messy bun, and her face is bare of any makeup. She looks gorgeous. Even in sleep, she looks absolutely, fucking stunning.

  “You’re late,” she mumbles as her eyes flutter open.

  “I had a schedule to make for some runs coming up. It’s a bitch to try and get these pansies situated when they all have important shit that they suddenly need to handle when I schedule them to leave,” I grunt.

  “Did you eat?” she asks.

  My dick jerks at the thought of eating her pussy, not food.

  “No,” I murmur as I start to pull my clothes off, leaving them in a pile on the floor.

  My eyes stay connected to her bright blue ones as I crawl up the bed, up her clothed body. She rolls onto her back, and her arms lift as her hands wrap around the sides of my neck.

  “I thought you’d stay all night,” she whispers once I’m just centimeters away from her.

  “No, sweetness, I’m not staying away from you if I can help it,” I mutter before I press my lips to hers.

  Mary-Anne arches her back and presses her tits against my chest as I press against her, pushing her into the mattress with my body.

  I moan when her legs wrap around my hips and she lifts her pussy to grind against my bare cock. The jeans are rough, but fuck, she’s so warm already. I move one of my hands to her side, beneath her shirt, and gently slide it up to cup her tit over her bra.

  “Max,” she breathes into my mouth. Fuck, she’s so damn sweet.

  “I’m hungry,” I murmur against her lips as I nibble her soft skin.

  “There’s not much in the kitchen to eat,” she breathes as her body trembles beneath mine.

  “Not hungry for food, sweetness, hungry for this pussy of yours,” I grunt as I slide down her body.

  I hear her giggle as I unbutton her jeans and pull them down her legs, tossing them behind me somewhere. I listen to them hit the floor before I wrench her panties down her long, lean legs as well. Wrapping my hands around the back of her knees, I spread her wide for me.

  “Max,” she sighs.

  I lift my eyes to look at her, and I grin. She licks her lips in what can only be anticipation of my mouth on her sweet cunt.

  I don’t bother saying a damn word. Nothing else needs to be said. I just need to taste her, to show her how much I want her right now. I need to feast on her.

  I flick her clit with my tongue a
few times, enjoying her little gasps when I do, then place a kiss on it before I move down to fuck her with my tongue.

  I lap at her, fucking her, licking her, and nibbling her sweet, juicy cunt as she dives her fingers into my hair and whimpers above me, her body shaking and thrashing.

  She stills, freezing with nothing more than a whimper, but I can feel her pussy spasm and then flood my mouth with her sweet release.

  “Holy—oh, my god,” she whispers as her body begins to relax.

  I want to shove my cock inside of her right this fucking second, but I also want her to keep that sweet satisfied look on her face. Her eyes peer down at me, and I feel like I’m something fucking special just by the way she’s taking me in.

  I press my lips against hers and trail my fingers down her side as my other hand wraps around the back of her neck. Feeling the strands of her hair between my fingers, I tangle them in the band that’s holding her hair up and yank it off.

  Once my hand has worked its way between her soft, swollen, wet thighs I begin to gently stroke her. She’s sensitive and groans every time my fingers graze her clit, but I want to bring her to the brink again, slowly.

  “Max, what are you doing?” she breathes as her eyes roll in the back of her head.

  “Gonna make you come with my fingers, sweetness,” I murmur against her neck, tasting the skin right below her ear—her sweat soaked skin.

  “It’s too much, baby,” she whines.

  I lift my head and press my lips against hers before I sweep my tongue through her mouth. She sucks on my tongue, sucking her taste from me, and it makes my cock practically explode.

  I’ve never burned so fucking hot for a woman in my entire fucking life.

  I slip two fingers inside of her and curl them. She cries out into my mouth. Her pussy flutters, and I know that she’s close again. Fuck, I want her so damn bad, I feel like a horny, fucking teenager.

  “Come on, sweetness. Let go,” I coax.

  She does a few seconds later, and I know that this one is big. Her whole body seems to shake with her climax, and her head pulls down as her eyes widen in surprise.