He’s closer than he should be. I’m thirty years younger than him, no way in hell should he be able to catch me.
I feel my breath leave my lungs in a whoosh when he wraps an arm around my ribs, and another around the front of my chest, gently pulling me to the ground, taking on the impact with his own body. I struggle to get out of his hold, but his arms tighten around me.
“Go,” he barks above me.
I hear booted feet scurry away before I break free.
I’m not free for long, though. Max is above me, his knees holding my legs closed tightly and his hands wrapped around my wrists, holding them against the ground.
“You asshole,” I scream in his face.
“Fuck, sweetness,” he hisses as he lowers his head down so that our faces are only centimeters apart.
“Yeah, fuck. Fuck you,” I grind out, still trying to break free from his grasp.
“Oh, I’m gonna do that too, Mary,” he whispers before his lips are on mine.
I try to fight him; dammit, do I try. But when his teeth nip my bottom lip and I gasp, his tongue fills my mouth, and I have no choice but to accept him.
I moan on the second sweep of his tongue, and then one of his hands breaks free and gently cups my jaw.
“Get off of me,” I grind out as soon as he breaks our kiss. He rears back slightly as though I’ve physically pushed him.
“No,” he states. “I love you.”
I snort at his words. Words that, three weeks ago, meant something to me—no, they meant everything to me. Now, they’re just words, spoken on deaf ears, and I don’t want to hear them. I shake my head and turn to the side, wishing I were strong enough to push him off of me.
“I love you, sweetness,” he whispers against my exposed ear before he trails soft kisses down my neck. I can’t stop my stupid eyes from crying.
I hate him and I love him all at the same time, and it makes me hate him a little bit more because of it. I was happy with him.
For a second, all was right, and then he took it all away, stomped on it with his boot, and watched me leave him.
Now, weeks later, he’s back, and I’m supposed to just hug him and forgive him? Well, fuck that, and fuck him.
Max stands and then reaches down a hand to help me up. I grasp onto his hand, my only intention to have the help up and then to run, but he anticipates my move and squeezes my fingers tightly before he yanks me forward.
Without a word he drags—yes, drags—me toward the clubhouse.
Once we’re inside, I look up and see Bates is standing in the bar, his keys in hand, and his eyes focused on us.
“Bates, help me,” I cry out. He shakes his head once.
“That’s your Old Man, Mary-Anne,” he states. Instantly, I feel betrayed.
I don’t voice my betrayal by screaming at my brother. There’s no point. These men all follow the same fucked up, macho man, caveman code.
Max drags me toward the bedrooms, and once I’m inside the room we stayed in last time, he throws the lock closed behind him and tosses me toward the bed. I stumble but land on the soft cushion with a bounce.
“I fucked up,” Max announces with his hands on his hips and his legs braced inches apart. He lifts his blue eyes and I see nothing but dirt stains and regret all over him. Still, I stay silent. “I came here for you, to get you back, and to bring you and our baby home. That bitch attacked me as soon as I walked through the door,” he announces. I glare at him.
“Honest to fuck, sweetness, she jumped up on me a second before you walked through that door,” he murmurs.
Then he does something I’ve never seen him do before, not ever, and something I never imagined he could do.
He walks over to me and drops to his knees before he yanks me a bit closer to the edge of the bed, his hands wrapped around the outside of my hips.
He buries his face in my lap and, I swear to Jesus, he cries. Well, maybe there are no actual tears, but he starts breathing really heavily.
“Max,” I murmur as I hesitantly lift one of my hands and run my fingers through his hair.
I suck in a breath when I feel his head move, and his lips touch my stomach. Then he lifts his head, and his eyes lock with mine.
I’m a bit disappointed to see that there are no tears in his eyes, but the fact that they are glassy makes me feel a tad better.
“Not lettin’ you go,” he murmurs. “Not lettin’ my baby go. Not when I almost lost you.”
“I thought it wasn’t yours,” I say as my breath hitches when his hands press against my stomach.
“It’s mine,” he states.
“It is,” I agree.
“You’re mine, too,” he mutters as his lips touch mine. “You’re mine, and it’s my fault you were almost taken from me.”
“Maxfield…” I start so say. He presses his lips to mine and it shuts me up.
Stupidly, I wrap my hands around the back of his neck to twist my fingers in his hair, and he gently tugs off my clothes, leaving me in nothing but a bra and panties. I let him do it, too, not able to control myself once his lips have touched my dirt covered skin.
“All of you is mine, sweetness,” he murmurs against the top of my breast as his hands quickly unfasten my bra.
I suck in a breath when his lips wrap around my nipple, his teeth nipping my sensitive bud. I arch into him, my stupid body adoring the way he makes me feel, even the simplest touch.
He kisses down the center of my chest, making his way to my stomach, and then he stops. His hands span the sides of my waist, warm and gentle as he tips his head back and looks into my eyes.
“Fuckin’ hell, Mary,” he rasps. “Fuckin’, fuckin’ hell. We did this. We made a baby.”
He’s looking at me in a way that I can’t describe, as if the world is brand new, and I’m this mythical, mystical thing that he’s never encountered before, and he can’t believe is really right in front of him.
“Maxfield,” I whisper.
Max’s hands wrap around the backs of my knees and he lifts them up, causing me to fall backward on the bed in a soft thump. Then he rips my panties off of me, spreading my legs immediately as his mouth begins to devour me.
He doesn’t take his time.
He doesn’t lick and slowly tease me with his tongue.
No, he sucks, he thrusts, he nips, and he sucks, causing my eyes to roll in the back of my head and my pussy to clamp down as I cry out with a sob, my release coursing through me like a bullet train.
“You taste so fucking sweet,” Max murmurs against my skin as he crawls up my body, divesting himself of his cut and his shirt on the way.
I run my hands from his strong stomach all the way up to his shoulders, grazing the angry red patches of skin that are still healing from his bullet wounds.
He guides himself inside of me, and then his lips graze my own healing bullet wound. I whimper as he stretches me. He’s so big, filling me to a point where I feel like I’m going to explode, and I love it.
“I hurt you physically, and then emotionally, and for that, for that I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Mary,” he whispers as he slowly makes love to me.
There’s no urgency and no rush. Nothing but he and I, breathing and staring into each other’s eyes. It’s different than every other time, and his apology, the words, I’m sorry—it’s almost more than I can take.
“Baby,” I murmur.
“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, Mary. If you’ll have me back,” he whispers as his hand wraps around the outside of my knee. He spreads me a little wider and holds my leg a little higher.
“Maxfield,” I moan, feeling him hit even deeper inside of me, filling me with each thrust of his hips. I never want him to stop—not ever.
“Fuck, Mary, fuck,” he groans as he buries his face in my neck.
“This isn’t fair,” I sob as my body starts to shake beneath his. I’m close, so damn close.
“I never said I was a fair man,” he grunts as he grinds his pe
lvis against my clit and then pumps a little harder with each thrust of his hips.
I sob out with my release. It washes through me in one, fast rush, and I know, I know without a doubt that I will always forgive this giant asshole of a man, because I love him. I love him so fucking much.
He stills inside of me and I feel his cock twitch before he throws his head back with a moan. He doesn’t stay planted for long, choosing to pull out and then drag me on top of him, my face in his neck.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against the top of my head. “I fucked up big time.”
“You did,” I agree before I look up, pressing my chin into his chest, careful not to let it rest on any of his healing injuries. “You fucked up, but I just walked away. I gave up,” I whisper.
MADDOG
We’re a pair, my Mary-Anne and me; but she’s mine, and that’s all that really matters.
“We’re done with this,” I mutter.
“Yeah,” she agrees before she smiles.
It fucking does me in, that smile of hers. It could fucking melt the hardest man on earth, with the coldest heart.
I tuck some hair behind her ear and grin down at her. I can’t believe I almost lost her, over nothing but fear.
“Sent some boys to get your shit from your place in Cali,” I grunt.
“What?” she breathes before she’s straddling me, her hands on my chest and her hair falling around our faces like a black, soft curtain.
“I had them leave the furniture, but they packed everything else, and it should be at the house waiting for you by the time we get home,” I say.
Her eyes widen and then her face breaks out into a huge fucking smile. Christ, my cock twitches just at the sight of her so damn happy.
“I can’t believe you did that for me,” she whispers, leaning further down, pressing her forehead to mine as she closes her pretty blue eyes.
“Anything, Mary. I’d do anything for you,” I mutter like a pussy-whipped fool as my hands drift up her bare back.
“Want to see a picture of your baby?” she whispers as her lips brush mine.
“First, I want you to ride my dick. Then, you show me pictures,” I grunt.
I watch as she leans back, and then I let out a moan as her small hand wraps around my semi-hard cock and she strokes me.
I slide one of my hands up her thigh and over to her sticky slick center, resting on my lower stomach. I then start to play with her pussy. Her grip tightens on my dick when I gently press against her clit.
“Slide on, sweetness,” I instruct as I lift my hips.
Her hand disappears and she scoots down before she grabs my base again and lines it up with her center. Her eyes lift to mine once the tip of my cock is inside of her, and then she slowly lowers down on me, taking me inside of her.
I wrap my hands around her hips before she can move, squeezing her and shaking my head once. I want to touch her. I missed the feel of her skin.
“Let me touch,” I murmur.
My hands gently roam over her body, touching her everywhere, and yet, nowhere she wants. She whimpers and clenches her pussy around my dick every so often.
Then, I cup her tits in my hands, rubbing my thumbs over her tight nipples. When I do, she throws her head back on a long moan, and she starts to move.
I let her ride me, setting her own sweet, torturous pace as I continue to touch, caress, and tug on her gorgeous nipples.
“Fuck me, Mary, come all over me,” I grind out through gritted teeth.
She nods before she slams down on me. It feels so fucking good. When she does it again, my fingers wrap around her tits, and I hold onto to them, probably too tightly, but I could give a fuck.
She doesn’t complain as she throws her head back with a moan and continues to rise and fall, hard, grinding her clit against me and making the headboard beat against the wall with her powerful movements.
“Mary, you need to come,” I try to demand. It comes out as a plea.
“You feel too good,” she whimpers above me.
I slip my hand between us and start to rub her clit, quick and with purpose. It doesn’t take long. Two strokes, maybe three, and she cries out with her release, her entire body freezing.
I watch for a second before I flip her on her back and drive inside of her with all of my strength. I pound into her tight cunt with everything I have, unable to stop, unable to do anything but chase my climax.
When I come, it’s with a roar that I’m sure every person within a ten-mile radius fucking hears. I give not one shit as I fill her pussy with my cum until I’m sure it’s leaking out of her.
“Now, you wanted to show me a picture?” I ask, looking down into her lazy, blue gaze.
“In a minute, baby,” she whispers.
In the end, I don’t see the picture. At least not right then. We fall asleep shortly after, wrapped in each other’s arms, and it’s the perfect end to the day.
My woman wrapped around me, her body pressed so tightly to mine that you can’t tell where she ends and I begin. Fucking sublime.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
MARY-ANNE
“What’s this?” Max asks.
We’re lying in bed the next morning, after another round of screwing. I’m not sure what we did this morning would be considered love making.
He pushed my legs aside while I was sleeping on my stomach, wrenched my hips back, and drove inside of me while I was still asleep. Then he kept going, hard and fast, until I woke up, and caught up.
I came twice, and now we’re snuggled up together and I’m showing him the picture of the ultrasound that was taken at my first doctor’s appointment.
“That’s the head,” I explain.
“Is it deformed?” he asks, turning his head to the side to try and get a better view.
To be honest, it looks like a blob—a baby blob, with like five things sticking out of it, nubs really. The doctor told me they were arms, legs, and a head. I didn’t second guess him, but it’s freaky looking.
“I don’t think so. I think it just takes a long time to actually look like a baby,” I say. “Didn’t you have one of these when you had Fury?” I ask out of curiosity.
“No, not back then. They only used the machines if they thought something was wrong. We were so young, they said there was no reason to. Not that I remember much. I don’t think I went to one appointment,” he shrugs.
“Not one?” I ask in surprise.
“I wasn’t around much, too busy with the club back then,” he says.
“Will you come with me to mine?” I ask nervously.
“As many as I can, sweetness,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my nose. “You ready to go home now?”
“I am. I’m so ready,” I admit with a grin.
“Let’s get your shit, say goodbye to the families, and get the fuck home.”
“Oh, no, tomorrow is Jelena’s party. I promised to help with everything,” I remember.
“Okay, no rush, Mary. We’ll stay a few days,” he shrugs.
“That’s okay with you? Really?” I ask.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be? She’s my niece, too, and my grandkids are gonna be there.”
“She’s your niece?” I ask in confusion.
“To the club, we’re as good as married, that means she’s my niece.”
My mouth opens in an O, and he chuckles before he tackles me and gives me a long, wet, deep kiss.
“You want to make it legal for everyone, Mary?” he murmurs against my lips.
“I—no, we don’t have to,” I say shakily.
“I think my sweetness wants a ring,” he whispers, placing a kiss on my nose. “I think she wants a pretty dress,” he murmurs, placing another kiss on the center of my chest. “I think she wants to be a family in the eyes of God, the state, and the world,” he finishes, placing a kiss on my stomach.
“I don’t have to have those things, Maxfield. I have you, and really, that’s all I’ve ever wanted,” I say, tuckin
g some of his long hair behind his ear.
“You have me, Mary, but you’ll also have those things, too. You almost lost me, and I pushed you away, almost losing you in the process. I think I can give you a party, a dress, and my last name. Especially since you’re giving me so much more than all of that combined.”
“I am?”
“Yeah, sweetness. You’re giving me a lifetime of happiness by being mine. You’re giving me another shot at more kids. Fuck, I never thought I’d have more, and here we are,” he whispers.
“Maxfield,” I say as my eyes water.
“We don’t get up and get moving, I’m going to fuck you again, Mary. Neither of us has showered, and we’ve screwed at least five times. I’m guessing I smell pretty fuckin’ awful by now,” he chuckles.
I wrinkle my nose, not because he smells, but because I know that I totally do.
* * *
“Happy birthday, dear Jelena, happy birthday to you,” we all sing.
I watch as she attempts to blow out her little candles. Stella gets irritated, rolls her eyes and blows them out for her, earning her a look of death from Brentlee and a chuckle from Bates.
“You look settled,” Kentlee says as she cuts the cake and places it on little crown shaped, pink plates.
“I am,” I nod as I hand the cake filled plates to passerby’s.
“And the baby and everything?”
“He’s happy. He knows it’s his. He was just being—.”
“A gigantic fucking dick,” she says with a grin.
“Yeah, that,” I laugh.
“You two look good together. I’m glad you’re going to be my mother-in-law,” she giggles. I roll my eyes.
“Don’t be a bitch. I’m the one that handles Christmas presents from now on,” I say with a smile.
“Oh, fuck you,” she grumbles before she bumps me with her hip.
Max and I spend the day with our family, our very intertwined, interesting family. When the party ends, we all go out and relax on a big outdoor sofa that Brentlee and Bates have, as the kids are being gathered and wrangled up to head to bed, before the adults can fully chill out.
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