Oh, my god. What the fuck? What am I doing?
I stand up and I rush outside of the shop, tugging my phone out of my purse as I go. I find Max’s name as quickly as I can, and I press send.
“Hey, sweetness,” he rumbles in my ear. I let his smooth voice wash over me for a split second.
“I don’t even know what kind of cake you like,” I practically screech into the phone.
“What?” he asks on a chuckle.
“Seriously, Max, we don’t know anything about each other, and I’m here trying to order a fucking wedding cake, and they’re asking me what flavor you like, and I don’t know. I don’t know anything about you. Nothing, nothing at all, and I’m trying to order a fucking cake to marry you. This can’t happen. It just can’t. We don’t know each other,” I ramble.
“Where are you?” he barks, sounding impatient.
“Didn’t you hear me? I’m at the cake shop,” I snap.
“You stay right fuckin’ there. You move, and I’ll paint that pretty little ass red,” he grunts, then the line goes dead.
“You totally freaked way the hell out on him,” Teeny murmurs from behind me.
“Ohmigod,” I whisper. “I totally did. Ohmigod.”
“He’ll straighten you out,” she smirks.
Not even five minutes later, I hear the rumble of bikes, and I gasp at the men coming down the downtown main street. It’s not only Max, but West, and three other men, I assume to be Colleen, Teeny, and Bobbie’s guys.
I only have eyes for Max, though. He practically throws his helmet down once he’s parked, and stalks my direction, backing me up against the brick wall of the shop.
“I like chocolate,” he murmurs against my lips before they press against mine, hard and unrelenting— owning and branding me all at the same time.
“Chocolate?” I ask on a wheeze once he lifts his lips from mine.
His hand is resting next to my head against the wall, and he tips his head to the side, a smile playing on his lips beneath his beard.
“Yeah, sweetness. I like chocolate,” he murmurs.
“That doesn’t change the fact that we know nothing about each other,” I point out, stupidly.
“I know all I need to know, Mary,” he murmurs quietly. “I know what you taste like when you come, I know what you feel like, too. I know what your whimpers sound like when you’re really close, and what your screams sound like when you finally let go. I know that I couldn’t stay away from you even if I tried, but why would I? When I’m inside you, its like nothing I’ve ever felt before.”
“Okay, stop,” I sniffle as tears fill my eyes.
“I know that you’re having my baby. I know that you cry a fuck’ve a lot, and I think it’s sweet. I also know that I love you,” he whispers before his lips touch mine in a soft, gentle kiss.
“I love you, too,” I rasp.
“Chocolate cake, sweetness. I’ll see you at home in a few hours.” Max kisses the tip of my nose, and then I watch as the rest of the men disengage from the women and then straddle their bikes and take off down the street
All of the girls turn and look at me with smiles on their faces, and I return them with a shaky one of my own. I then go inside and I order a chocolate cake. Then I go home, hide my gorgeous wedding gown, and just as I’m about to jump in the shower, I hear Max downstairs. I wait for him in our bedroom, naked, instead of getting inside of the shower.
I watch for the bedroom door to open, and when it does, he fills the doorway. From my spot on the bed, on my knees, I look up at him through my lashes and my breath hitches. He’s so absolutely gorgeous. Weathered in a way that I know he’s seen some serious things in his life, but also still so handsome and so incredibly sexy.
“Sweetness,” he murmurs.
I don’t say anything, my eyes connected with his and not moving from his gaze. Max lets his cut fall from his shoulders, and then throws it on the chair in the corner before he reaches behind him and yanks his shirt off. He kicks his boots across the room and lets his pants fall to the floor, followed by his boxer briefs.
I whimper when he takes his semi-hard cock in hand and squeezes it before he starts to stroke it. My mouth waters at the sight. I’m hungry. No, I’m famished for him.
“Baby,” I whisper.
He grunts before he takes a few steps to close the gap between us, and I can’t help myself. I crawl over to him, lowering my chest down before I suck the head of his cock between my lips with a moan. He moves his hand from his dick to the back of my head as he starts to slowly pump his hips, sending his cock further and further down my throat. I close my eyes and relax my body as I accept him.
“Fuck, Mary. You feel so goddamn good,” he groans. I slide my hands up his thighs to grab onto his firm ass with my fingers. Then he pulls away from me and I look up at him with a small pout. “Not gonna come down your throat, sweetness.”
Max picks me up from beneath my armpits and drags me over to the center of the bed. He looks at me and then makes a twirling motion with his finger, and I know what that means. My whole body does one long shiver before I flip over and get to my hands and knees, tipping my ass just the way I know he likes.
“See, you know me, Mary,” he chuckles behind me as his finger slides through my slick center. “And I—I know you, my sweet girl,” he rasps as his finger circles my clit.
Two of his fingers enter me before they hook inside of me and he rubs the inside, just the way I freaking love. I moan, letting my head hang between my shoulders. He straightens his fingers before he starts to pump in and out of my body. He’s being slow and deliberate as he drives me closer and closer to the edge, but not so close that I’ll topple over. He knows what he’s doing, he knows how to play me, and he’s going to prove just how well he does it, too.
I whimper, but I don’t beg. It would do no good. He’s in control now, and he’s loving it. When he slaps my clit, my head rears back at the same time my hips do the same.
“Spread wider and arch. I want to see my name on your pussy,” he growls.
I do as he commands, spreading my knees as far as they’ll go while, at the same time, I lower my chest even further, letting my cheek and chest rest on the bed with my ass in the air. He hisses before he fills me with one, swift thrust of his cock.
Max’s fingers dig into the flesh of my hips as he rears back and then fills me again with a long, deep, satisfying groan. One of his hands leaves my hip as he continues to fuck me, to take me and to own me. He wraps it around my breast before he yanks my upper body up. My head flies back and hits his shoulder.
“Baby,” I whisper as his fingers grip my breast.
His strokes—strong, even, and hard—do not change in anyway at all.
“Fuck, Mary. Christ, you feel so good,” he murmurs as he buries his face in the side of my neck.
“I’m so close,” I whisper, knowing and feeling that I’m on the edge. If the wind blew against my clit, I’d come.
“Let me push you over,” he whispers against my sweat soaked skin. His other hand leaves my hip and his fingers find my clit.
It doesn’t take more than two strokes of his expert fingers to make my entire body quake as I cry out with my release. Max doesn’t stop, not even in the slightest. In fact, his strokes speed up and his strength increases. Then he stills, and when he does, he roars as he fills me full of his climax.
“You know me, Mary. You know me better than anybody. There are a million things you don’t know, but they’re all things that you’ll learn over time. Hell, we’ll learn things about each other every single day, sweetness,” he murmurs about thirty minutes later, when my front is pressed to his side and we’re cuddled together in bed.
“I freaked out,” I murmur, feeling embarrassed.
“It’s understandable. We’ve moved fuckin’ fast. Now, you need food. What do you want?” he asks, giving me a little shake.
“Nothing that requires me moving from this spot,” I yawn.
“I only know how to make breakfast foods,” he admits with a shrug. Something else I didn’t know about him.
I didn’t know he could make anything. I’ve been doing all of the cooking, or we just go out and grab something quick.
“Pancakes?” I ask sheepishly.
“Pancakes for my sweetness,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against my forehead before he slides off of the bed.
I watch his gorgeous, tight ass walk out of the bedroom. Twenty minutes later, his still naked, gorgeous ass comes back inside with two plates piled high with thick stacks of pancakes. We eat in bed, naked as the day we were born, and I love every second of it.
Later that night, with a full belly, my back curled against the man that I love, I fall asleep. I dream, but it isn’t of anything in my past; it isn’t of anything terrible that’s happened to me.
No, instead I dream of beauty. Bright, rich, pinks, blues, and purples. And Maxfield. I dream of him. He’s standing far away from me, a smile on his face and his arm stretched out. When our hands finally clasp, he pulls me into his arms and envelopes me in a warm embrace.
“I couldn’t have dreamt you, sweetness, not in a million years,” he whispers. “I thank the moon and stars every fuckin’ night that you’re mine.”
I don’t respond, my dream self just as speechless as my real self. I reach up to cup his bearded cheeks, and I smile. He leans down and presses his lips to mine in a soft, sweet, but hard kiss.
“I love you, Mary.”
I sleep with a smile on my lips, and I wake up the exact same way. Even in my dreams, Maxfield Duhart is the exact man that I need, the exact fit for me, and the man of my dreams—dreams that I didn’t know existed until the moment my eyes met his.
I walk quietly, somberly through the cemetery. I haven’t stepped foot onto this soil in at least two decades; yet, here I am, today of all days—my wedding day.
My feet know without my even having to recall, exactly where her grave lies. She’s beneath a huge oak tree, and once I’m upon it I look down and see her flat headstone. It’s been cleaned off, the maintenance people here are on the ball. It shines almost as if somebody knew I would be coming today.
Eleanora J. Duhart
Wife. Mother. Friend
June 1, 1957 — October 18, 1989
There’s no spot for my name next to hers. She downright refused to allow it, telling me that I’d remarry and that I would need to be buried next to my new wife.
At the time, I scoffed. Now, I understand what she meant, and I’m thankful for it. Not that she gave me an option. She designed, bought, and paid for her headstone without me even knowing about it.
The stone is plain, just a rectangular boarder around her name, and a single rose in the top right hand corner. Nothing fancy, nothing special, just simple. Ellie was like that. She didn’t expect anything flashy, and she didn’t want it. All she wanted was to be happy, to have a happy family.
I didn’t give her everything she wanted.
I could have, but I was too fucking selfish.
“Hey, Ellie,” I murmur as I sit down on the bench next to the tree. It’s got some other family’s name etched in the back, but since I’m the only one here, I figure I’m good to rest my ass on it.
“I feel fuckin’ dumb talkin’ to a headstone,” I chuckle. “Fuck me, you were right, though. I found someone else. Only took me thirty years to do it. Christ, darlin’, I didn’t do right by you. For that, I’m sorry. I should have been there for you more before you got sick. I should have given you more babies, like you wanted. I shouldn’t have fucked around on you the way I did. I was so young and so fuckin’ selfish and dumb—let’s face it, I was an idiot back then.
“The day you died, swear to Christ, a piece of me died with you. Pierce got angry, and I just—I fucked every piece of ass I could get my hands on, trying to erase you from my mind; trying to forget about how goddamn guilty I felt,” I bury my face in my hands, trying to catch my breath, trying to keep my emotions at bay because, fuck, it’s all coming back to me.
“I fell in love, though. Today, I’m getting married; and we’re havin’ a baby. Never thought I’d be having a kid younger than my grandkids, but fuck me, here I am doin’ it,” I chuckle. “I don’t know why, but I just, I just thought you should know. I’m happy, truly happy. I probably won’t be back, this ain’t really my thing. But know, even though I was a fucking fool, a part of me will always love a part of you, Ellie darlin’.”
I stand up, taking one last look at her name on the headstone, and I tug my wallet out of my pocket. The picture of us, her heavily pregnant with Pierce, is still inside, and I fish it out.
I made copies of it, so that Pierce could have one. But this one, my copy, I bend down and set on her headstone. It’ll get blown away by the wind, or damaged in the elements, but this is where it belongs now. Ellie is a part of my past that will always be in my heart, but my future is Mary-Anne.
I walk away from the cemetery and straddle my bike. I have a wedding to go to, a party to enjoy, and a new wife to fuck later tonight.
Today is going to be a great fucking day.
I look around the clubhouse yard and I grin. Colleen and the other Old Ladies really did a great fuckin’ job making this place look nice. There’s a huge white tent that’s decorated with little white lights, a dance floor, tables decorated with flowers and different shit, and a white cake in the center of the tent.
Looking around at the guests who are seated behind me, I smile. They’re all family, either by blood or by brotherhood. The Old Ladies are curled up next to their men. Some came over from Idaho, a few from Nevada, and even Snake and Free, the new President and VP from Canada, are in attendance.
I’m looking at my boots when the music starts. When it does, my head snaps up. Led Zeppelin’s Thank You starts to play. I think back to the time in my truck, when we talked about Zeppelin and how much she loved them, and it seems like a lifetime ago.
Mary-Anne stands at the end of the aisle, her arm wrapped around Sniper’s. She looks like she should be on the cover of a magazine, she’s that fucking stunning. I feel like shit for refusing to wear a suit with each step she takes closer to me.
None of the guys are in suits, not even Sniper. I’m wearing the nicest pants I’ve ever worn in my life, a pair of slacks Kentlee told me weren’t an option I could deny, and a black button up shirt that’s rolled at the sleeves, unbuttoned at the neck, with no tie, and my cut.
Mary is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. Her dress is two triangles at her tits, tight around her ribs, and then flows out like a fuckin’ ball gown to the floor, hiding her miniscule baby bump beneath the mass amount of fabric.
Her dark hair is down and wavy, her blue eyes focused on me and me alone. She’s not carrying flowers, and she’s got no veil, but fuck me, she’s a gorgeous bride.
“Who gives this woman to this man?” the pastor asks.
“I do,” Bates grunts as if it actually pains him to do so.
Mary giggles softly and I hold out my hand. She slips her small cool hand inside of mine and turns to face me.
The rest of the ceremony is simple, short, and to the point. There’s no candle lighting, there’s just our vows, traditional ones, and then I slip that expensive as fuck ring on her finger. She slips some rubbery ring on mine and then we kiss.
“I love you,” she whispers against my lips once I start to break our kiss.
“Love you so fuckin’ much, sweetness,” I murmur.
We turn to face our friends as the pastor introduces us as Mr. and Mrs. Maxfield Pierce Duhart.
The rest of the evening is relaxed, laid back, full of good food and great people. When we cut the cake, I grin at the inside—chocolate. I don’t smash it in Mary’s face and she doesn’t in mine. We feed it to each other and then I kiss her, slipping my tongue into her mouth to taste her and the chocolate from the cake mixed together. Christ my dick goes rock hard at the flavor.
�
�I’ve never been so happy,” she whispers while we embrace on the dancefloor.
“Thank you for being so fuckin’ perfect for me, sweetness,” I murmur, pressing my lips to hers.
We dance, and as the night wears on, the kids are all hauled away and tucked into their beds, at which point the party becomes a little wilder.
The hard liquor and weed come out—though the whores stay inside the clubhouse. Mary never mentioned them, but they don’t belong at my wedding or at my reception. If any of the guys want to dip their dicks, they can go inside and do that.
I walk Mary over to the table where Fury, Kentlee, Bates, Brentlee, Dirty Johnny, Hattie, and Grizz are sitting. She’s looking tired, and I want her to get off of her feet. I grab onto a chair, sitting down before I pull her down onto my lap.
“How does it feel to be tied down?” Brentlee asks with a wide grin. She’s drunk, and I return her sideways grin.
“Fantastic,” I reply.
“This, right here, this is how it was always meant to be,” Kentlee whispers with tears in her eyes.
My pregnant daughter-in-law is a fuckin’ sap. But I wouldn’t change her, not for a million bucks, and that’s because she’s absolutely right. This is how it was always meant to be. A big family mixed with blood, sweat, and tears, brought together for one reason or another, but always, fuckin’ always meant to be together in the end.
I rest my hand on the small swell of Mary’s belly, still hidden beneath the fabric of her dress. She leans back and presses her lips just below my ear while I talk with our family.
“So, do you want more, or is one it for you?” Hattie, Dirty Johnny’s Old Lady, asks Mary a few hours later.
“More. I want more,” she whispers. It makes my heart swell.
Weeks ago, my Mary-Anne didn’t want any children. Now, she wants more. It shows what love can do to a person. She’s changed me forever, and it appears I’ve changed her as well.
I have no doubt that we’ll fight, and fuck me, even that will be fun with her. As long as she’s at my side and in my bed, I don’t give a fuck what’s thrown at us. We’ll take it and we’ll be happy.
Rough & Ruthless (Notorious Devils Book 4) Page 25