“Shh,” he murmurs as he continues to rock his hips, lazily sliding in and out of me.
“West, you didn’t use a condom,” I blurt out.
“You got birth control taken care of, right?” he mutters against my neck as his lips make a path from below my ear to the center of my throat.
“Against babies, yes; against incurable diseases, no,” I grind out.
“I’m clean,” he murmurs, still seated inside of me with his mouth on my neck.
“How many clubwhores have you fucked without protection?” I grind out.
It’s then that he lifts his head and narrows his eyes slightly before he smirks.
“None. I don’t have time to fuck those whores. I’m a prospect. And even if I did have the time, they’re disgusting. My cock has never been bare inside anybody but you,” he continues, grinning.
“Why me?” I ask quietly.
“I want you,” he says. I look at him with apprehension, but he eases that as he speaks again. “Only you, Ivy.”
“But you barely know me,” I whisper.
“I like what I know,” he says, as though that is explanation enough. He eases out of me, rolling to the opposite side of the bed and dragging me with him so that I’m tucked into his side. “You’re fuckin’ feisty, Ivy, and I like it a helluva lot.”
We spend the rest of the night and morning in each other’s arms, fucking hard, fast, slow, and gentle. After we’re completely exhausted and totally spent, he wraps me in his arms. With my head against his chest, my arm around his middle—one of his buried in my hair, and the other resting on my hip—he sighs a contented sigh.
“Never letting you go, Ivy,” he murmurs against my hair.
I suck in a breath. It’s then that I realize, I only want him too. I wasn’t supposed to, I never intended on it, and yet here I am, wrapped in his strong arms.
PART TWO
Patched member.
I grin at my brothers. I can call them that now, because they are—my brothers.
There are whores dancing and putting on a show, drinks are coming at me from all different directions, and yet, the only person I want to celebrate with isn’t here. Even if she was, I couldn’t let on that she’s my girl.
Ivy.
“Hey, man, I just want to say thanks for keeping an eye on Ivy. She said that shitbag hasn’t been around once looking for her since you been watching out,” Grease says, slapping my shoulder.
“Yeah,” I nod, trying not to give anything away.
That shitbag hasn’t made an appearance because I’ve been staying at her place every single night for the past two months, escorting her to and from Carlotta’s every night she works.
Grease leaves shortly after his thanks with a whore on his arm.
“You aren’t enjoying your party?” MadDog asks.
“I am,” I nod.
“Ivy is a good girl. Would hate to see her get hurt,” MadDog mutters.
My head swings over to him in surprise, and he just grins.
“She just for fun or more?” he asks.
“More,” I murmur.
“You’re young. You sure about that?”
“She’s mine,” I grunt.
“Better man up and tell her brother that, then,” he chuckles.
“What’ll he do to me?” I ask, taking a shot of whatever is in front of me, not tasting the liquor.
“Probably beat the shit out of you. He won’t kill you, you’re patched in now, but he might shoot you,” MadDog chuckles as he walks away.
I think about his words. I should man up. I want to show my woman off to my brothers, and I want to show her that we aren’t as bad as the image she’s painted in her head. I look over at Grease and cringe. Tonight is not that night. He’s got a whore bent over the pool table, and he’s fucking her so hard, I swear I see that big ass table jump.
I quietly slip away from my own party and make my way out the back door.
“You aren’t getting your party on. This is your night, Camo,” Smoke mutters.
Camo, my new road name—because they say I blend in like camouflage. No longer am I only known as prospect. It feels damn good, too.
I shrug as my answer.
“Go to your girl,” he chuckles. I turn and look at him in surprise. “Written all over your face, brother. Don’t know who she is, but if she’s keeping you from a fuckfest with easy pussy, then she’s where you need to be,” he grins as he stands and walks inside.
I take his advice.
I walk over to my bike and leave. Ivy has tonight off. She knows where I am. She said she was just going to hang around her place and she’d see me in the morning. No drama, no tantrum, no fuckin’ bullshit. Another reason why I love her.
Yeah, I do.
I love her.
She’s my woman, and I want her to be my Old Lady, too. After I talk to her brother, of course, and accept my punishment for blatantly disrespecting him and ignoring his orders—the orders of my VP. Then I’m going to brand her and make her mine for the world to see.
Patch-in party.
It’s tonight, and I’ve never felt so uneasy in all of my life.
I wish I were working to take my mind off of what West is or isn’t doing.
I don’t know much about the MC lifestyle, or all that happens behind clubhouse doors. I’ve always stayed far away; but I do know that drugs, booze, and sex flow freely. I can imagine that it’s doubled at a big party. And tonight is West’s night, which means all those things will flow freely toward him.
I throw myself down on the sofa in a huff, and then I hear a noise on my back patio. It makes me pause. West always uses my back entrance.
He parks his bike behind my fence. I know we’re supposed to be a secret, but it’s starting to annoy me. I don’t want to feel like a dirty secret anymore. I want to go out in public with him; I want all the other women around to know he’s mine, that he’s taken and definitely not available.
I hear another unidentifiable noise. I stand up and walk around the sofa, on my way to where I hear the sound yet a-freaking-again.
“You’re finally alone,” a deep voice says from my dining room. I freeze.
“Adam,” I whisper as I retreat a step, bumping into the back of my sofa.
“Did you think I would give up? I didn’t give up when I wanted you; I’m not giving up now,” he laughs.
“I don’t want you anymore. I’ve moved on, and you need to as well,” I announce.
Adam was a mistake.
I thought he was cute when he would come into Carlotta’s. He would flirt with me, and eventually he asked me out. We dated for a few months and I was constantly fending him off, until one night I finally gave in and we had sex. It was awful. He didn’t care if I even liked it, let alone if I got off.
I broke up with him shortly after, and then he started harassing me. At first, it was phone calls; then he would randomly show up outside my work, my house, the grocery store. That was when I called my brother and asked for help. I don’t ask Barry for much, so he knew it was important when I asked him for help with Adam.
“Well, too bad, because I’m not through with you yet. Though, when I am, I won’t want you anymore, and neither will that piece of shit you’ve been fucking,” he says, smirking.
I open my mouth to speak but he’s on me, and his hand covers my mouth before I can get a word out. Then he spins me around, and I can feel his body against my back, pushing me against the sofa, trying to bend me over.
“He ain’t here to protect you anymore, and when he sees what I’ve done to you, he won’t want you. Nobody will,” he whispers against my ear.
I try to scream, knowing it will be fruitless; knowing that my neighbors are all too far away to hear me; knowing that in no way whatsoever will West get to me in time. He won’t be by until tomorrow evening when he takes me to work.
I’m going to be brutalized, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Fighting will only make it worse, and unless there’s a way for me to g
et out of Adam’s tight grasp, I’m done for.
I feel his hand wrap around my breast and squeeze so tight that I know there are going to be bruises. Then I hear a loud blast and Adam’s weight falls against me, pushing me even further down against the sofa before it’s lifted from me almost immediately.
Spinning around, I gasp at the sight of the man standing in my kitchen. The man who has a piece of my heart. West. He’s got a gun dangling from his hand and his eyes are focused on the body that’s at my feet.
“West,” I whisper.
His eyes lift before something flashes through them, and then I’m off. I run into his arms and wrap myself around him.
“He hurt you, baby?” he rasps as his free hand tangles in the back of my hair, pulling me even closer to his chest. It’s almost as if he’s trying to pull me into his body.
“No, no you came just in time,” I whisper against his shirt.
He smells like booze, leather, and sweat. My favorite combination of scents. I tip my head back and look into his eyes. They’re darker than normal but focused on me.
“You’re mine, Ivy. I’m tellin’ your brother and I’m claiming you,” he grunts. “You’re my Old Lady and nobody fuckin’ touches you. Never again.”
“Claiming me?” I ask.
“Yeah, fuckin’ yeah, Ivy. Nobody touches you again. Never.”
“I love you, West,” I murmur.
We haven’t been together very long, but I do. I love him. He’s everything in a man I convinced myself I never wanted, but he’s also everything I need.
“Gonna need to get him outta your place and get it cleaned up,” he murmurs as his eyes drift from mine to Adam’s dead body.
I feel a pang of sadness that he hasn’t told me he loves me as well. But maybe his vow of love is claiming me, making me his Old Lady to his club. Maybe that’s what love is to him? Protection.
What seems like minutes later, my house is filled with bikers. Men I never thought I would want traipsing through my place are here, and they’re a welcome sight.
Then Barry shows up.
West’s arm is wrapped around my hip, his hand just on the outside of my ass, and he’s talking to the president of their club, MadDog. He hasn’t seen my brother yet, but my brother’s seen him. I’m guessing by the fire in his eyes, he isn’t happy that West is touching me.
“Get your hands off my sister,” Barry grunts. I open my mouth, but West squeezes my hip and shushes me. “What in the fuck are you doin’ at her place right now?”
“Wanted to talk to you tomorrow about that,” West mutters.
“’Bout what?” Barry growls.
“I want Ivy to be my Old Lady,” West announces. The men that were helping to clean up all freeze.
“She’s off fucking limits,” Barry yells.
“Now, Grease,” MadDog warns. Barry narrows his eyes on him.
“Told you months ago she was off limits. You been fuckin’ my baby sister for months?” Barry asks.
“Barry,” I hiss.
“Shut the fuck up,” he says, pointing at me. West gently slides me behind his body—his tightly held body.
“Don’t talk to my woman like that,” West growls.
“She’s not your fuckin’ woman. She’s off-limits, and you fucked her anyway.”
“He’s doin’ right by her, Grease,” MadDog mutters.
“Shouldn’t be doin’ shit with her,” Barry grunts.
“His punishment will come tomorrow. We’ll hold church and decide. But for now, let’s focus on what’s happened here. He saved her before shit could have really gone down with that asswipe ex of hers,” MadDog rationally explains.
“You okay, Ivy?” Barry asks, his tone softer and all big brothery.
“Yeah,” I murmur.
I disengage from West and make my way over to my big brother, wrapping my arms around his neck and hugging him close.
“You wanna be this jackhole’s Old Lady? If not, I’ll kill him right here and right now,” Barry whispers in my ear.
I pull back a bit and grin.
“Yeah, I really do,” I admit.
“I thought you hated the club and all bikers?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.
“I love you, and I love him, so you can’t be all bad,” I shrug.
“You love him?”
“I do,” I admit.
“Fuck me. I’ll kill him if he hurts you, you know that right?” Barry asks.
“Of course I do,” I smile.
I hear the shower start and I take a deep breath. My patch in party—what a clusterfuck. I’m not mad I decided to skip it and come home to my woman. She needed me, and my gut instinct was right. What kind of Notorious Devil would I be if I didn’t listen to my gut?
I don’t know what tomorrow will bring with church and whatever verdict I get thrown at me for deliberately disobeying orders, but whatever it is, it’ll be worth it. Ivy is now my Old Lady. She’s mine, and I don’t have to hide her or hide us for a second longer.
The water turns off and the door opens. I look up, and there she is.
The woman who stole my fuckin’ heart.
Ivy.
My Ivy.
She’s wrapped in a towel, her wet hair dripping, and she’s never looked more beautiful.
“C’mere,” I grunt.
I watch as she takes a few steps toward me. Spreading my thighs, I wrap my hands around her waist and pull her between my legs. I cup her cheeks with my hands and tilt my head slightly to look up at her. Most beautiful fuckin’ woman in the entire goddamn world.
“I love you too, Ivy,” I murmur. I watch as she sucks in a breath and then smiles wide.
“Will you make love to me?” she asks.
“You sure you want that tonight, after everything?” I ask, running the pad of my thumb across her bottom lip.
“I want you inside of me. I love the way you make me feel, the way you make me forget the rest of the world even exists. And he’s gone, West. He’s gone and he’s never coming back to scare me again,” she whispers.
“Yeah, baby, I’ll make love to you,” I murmur.
Keeping my hands on her cheeks, I stand before I press my lips to hers. She tastes like mint and Ivy with a hint of lemon.
“You been drinkin’ those lemon cocktails you like?” I ask as I lift my lips from hers.
“I had a couple shots of lemon flavored vodka, to calm my nerves after Barry left,” she admits with a shy smile.
“Taste’s good,” I grunt before I pick her up and turn her around, lying her down on the bed.
Slowly, I unknot the towel at her breasts and let it fall open, displaying all of her gorgeous, milky white skin. It’s all mine, every single inch of her, from now until the end of time. All the easy pussy in the world couldn’t make me feel the way this one woman does.
“West,” she whispers.
“I’m just lookin’ at my woman, baby. Takin’ in all this beauty that’s just for me.”
“West,” she chokes.
I quickly peel off my own clothes and spread her thighs apart. I want to taste her, but my cock needs to claim her more. I crawl up her body and sink inside of her wet cunt as my forehead rests on hers. She’s so fuckin’ tight, every single time. Every inch of her was made for me.
“I love you, West,” she murmurs, repeating her words from earlier.
Words that I know she wanted me to say back right then and there. I’ve loved her for a while now, but didn’t know how to say the words. She needed to hear them, so between us, alone, I gave them to her. I couldn’t say them with a dead man on her living room floor, or with the house full of my brothers. I needed to share them when we were completely alone.
Just us.
“I love you too, Ivy,” I murmur as I pick up my pace.
I growl when her fingernails scrape my beard. Fuck, it feels so good when she does that. I thrust a little harder, hitting her a little deeper, forgetting that she asked me to make love to her, not fuck her. I�
�m on the verge of coming and I need her to get there before I do.
Slipping my hand between us, I begin to stroke her clit. She moans and throws her head back, exposing her neck to me. I suck on the sweet skin of her neck, and her pussy starts to flutter around my dick, urging me on. My thrusts become more erratic with every moan that escapes her lips.
“Oh, shit,” she cries. That’s when she squeezes me like a fucking vice.
I release her neck and rear back on my knees before I fuck her with earnest, drawing her orgasm out and chasing mine simultaneously. I plant myself deep inside of her before I let out a long moan as I come—hard. Then I collapse on top of her, ignoring the fact that I’m probably crushing her soft body with my heavy one.
“I feel too young to be labeled an Old Lady. Can’t I be like… a Young Lady or something?” she asks a few minutes later. I lift my head and laugh, looking into her dancing eyes.
“How about when we’re here, you’re just my Ivy?” I ask. “At the club, you’re Camo’s Old Lady; but when it’s just us, you’re my Ivy?”
“Camo?” she asks, furrowing her brows.
“My road name. Got it tonight,” I shrug as I slip out of her and roll onto my back. Ivy rolls with me and plasters her front to my side.
“I like it,” she admits with a grin. “You are sneaky, and you blend in.”
“Glad you like it, baby, because it’s gonna be tattooed on your sexy as fuck body,” I smile.
“Tattooed?” she blinks in surprise.
“Yeah. You’re an Old Lady, so you have your man’s brand on you. You know this shit, don’t you?” I question in confusion.
“Well, yeah, I mean, but I thought that was after you were married or whatever,” she mutters.
“Being my Old Lady is just as good as being married, babe,” I say, starting to get irritated.
“I’m afraid of needles,” she admits.
I wrap my hand around the back of her head and pull her into my chest chuckling.
“Fuck, baby, I thought you were reconsidering,” I say, continuing to laugh.
“No, never. I just, I really hate needles,” she confesses.
“I have to get my ink next week. You’ll come with me, feel it out.”
Rough & Ruthless (Notorious Devils Book 4) Page 29