Slash (Devil's Fury MC 7)

by Harley Wylde

  “This okay?” he asked, giving a nod to the restaurant.

  “Yeah. You know how much I love Mexican food.”

  He winked. “I remember. It’s why I picked this place.”

  We went inside and the hostess sat us at a booth near a window. I perused the menu, trying to decide what I was in the mood for. Everything sounded amazing, and I was starving. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a meal in a place like this. My mouth watered at the scents filling the air.

  A woman who looked to be in her thirties stopped by the table, setting a basket of chips and a bowl of salsa down. “I’m Terrie and I’ll be your waitress today. Do you know what you’d like to drink?”

  “Sweet tea,” I said. It was about the only craving I had so far. I just hadn’t realized it was a pregnancy craving at the time, but I’d definitely been drinking it way more than usual.

  “I’ll take a beer,” Slash said. “Anything on tap is fine as long as it’s not that light shit.”

  Terrie flashed him a smile. “I have to ask for I.D. to serve alcohol. Even if you had blue hair and a million wrinkles. State requirement.”

  Slash pulled out his wallet and showed her his driver’s license before shoving it back into his jean’s pocket. She eyed him like a prime piece of meat, making me fist my hands under the table, my nails biting into my palms.

  “Sweet of you to take your daughter out for lunch,” she said. Terrie reached down and placed her hand on Slash’s forearm. “Not too many men like you left. I get off work in an hour if you’d like to go do something later.”

  Daughter? I watched Slash and noticed a tic in his jaw. He stared at the woman. Hard. Enough that she took a hasty step back, releasing her hold on him. Yeah, she’d realized he was a predator. Except if Slash stalked her, it wouldn’t be to fuck her.

  “I’d like another server. And the manager,” he said. “But before you get either, you can apologize to my wife.”

  Her eyes went wide, and she stared from him to me and back again. When she faced me, I saw the flash of anger in her eyes and the sneer on her lips. “Sorry.”

  Terrie turned and stomped off, and I worried she might spit in our drinks or food. Slash watched her, his jaw set, his nostrils flaring with every breath as if he were an enraged bull about to charge. If he reacted like this to a stranger making a comment about me being his kid, what would happen if the club didn’t like us being together?

  “It’s okay,” I said, reaching over and placing my hand on top of his.

  “It’s not,” he said. “Maybe if she’d given you a real apology I could have let it slide.”

  A man came over in a button-down shirt, khaki pants, and his hair sticking up like he’d been running his hands through it. Terrie stood next to him, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at me. The guy looked from Slash to me and back again, visibly swallowing and I noticed his brow was beaded with sweat.

  I eyed my husband. His tee stretched tight over his biceps and chest. The cut he wore could be intimidating, especially to people who feared all bikers. Although, if they pissed off Slash, they were wise to be afraid. Especially if they’d fucked with his family. I warmed inside, realizing that included me.

  “Is there a problem?” The man patted his face with a handkerchief.

  “You the manager?” Slash asked.

  The man nodded. “John Simpson. And yes, I manage this restaurant.”

  “Your waitress insulted me and my wife, came onto me, then gave a shitty apology as she glared at my woman. I want a new server and I expect that one,” he said, pointing to Terrie, “to be disciplined or written up. She needs to learn better customer service.”

  “Terrie is one of our best,” Mr. Simpson said.

  “Then I suppose we should find somewhere else to eat,” Slash said, standing up and towering over the plump manager. The guy took a hasty step back. “I won’t sit around and let my wife be insulted.”

  His voice had risen just high enough the people at the surrounding tables were looking our way. A few were murmuring to one another, and two couples stood up like they were about to leave. The manager seemed to have realized what was happening. I watched as his shoulders slumped and he seemed to deflate.

  “I’m sorry. We pride ourselves on good service. If you’d like another server, I’ll see that you get one and your meals are on the house.” He cast a quick glance at Terrie. He seemed to pale a little as he looked at her and I wondered what hold she had over him. “Terrie, I’m afraid I need you to head on home. Your shift is over for today.”

  Her eyes flashed and her lips thinned. “You promised me the best shifts.”

  “I can’t have you running off customers,” Mr. Simpson stammered.

  Terrie snarled at him. “See if I let you fuck me again, you piece of shit.”

  She turned and stormed off, my jaw dropping at her declaration. I hadn’t seen that one coming. The look Slash slid my way left me thinking he’d known the two were somehow involved. Did all men think with their dicks?

  Slash took his seat again and reached for a chip, scooping up some salsa before he popped it into his mouth. “On the off chance your little whore did something to our drinks, I’d prefer the new server make them.”

  Mr. Simpson nodded and rushed off. A few minutes later, a young girl came over, her hands twisting in front of her. The way her gaze darted around the room made her look like a scared rabbit.

  “I-I-I…” She licked her lips and still wouldn’t look at us.

  Slash leaned back in the booth. “Take a breath. I don’t bite. Long as you don’t say mean shit to my wife, or dismiss her, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  She blew out a breath and her gaze landed on him before swerving to me. She gave me a hesitant smile. “Sorry. It’s my first day and Terrie was pissed when she left. She’s the go-to person around here. Everyone says she has Mr. Simpson wrapped around her finger.”

  Oh, she had him wrapped around something, but it wasn’t her finger.

  “My wife wanted sweet tea and I’ll take a beer.”

  She worried at her lower lip. “Mug or bottle?”

  “Mug. Nothing light.”

  She nodded. “Do you know yet what you want to order? Or I can give you more time.”

  Slash looked over at me. “Know what you want, baby?”

  “The steak chimichanga with sour cream sauce, no lettuce or tomato, and a double side of rice,” I said.

  “And you?” the girl asked Slash.

  “Six beef tacos, rice, beans, and two chicken enchiladas on the side.”

  She gave a quick nod and started to take off, only to spin around, her eyes wide. “I totally forgot. My name’s Bethany. If you need anything, just let me know.”

  After she darted off, I smiled at Slash. Women always had one of two reactions to the men in my life. Outright distaste or they fell at their feet. My dad had been no exception. Although I’d never met his wife, Mae, I’d heard she was his one and only. I had no doubt he wasn’t exactly celibate, but I didn’t think he’d ever claim another old lady or get married. He still had pictures up of Mae all over the house, or he had when I’d left. I’d always wanted that. To have some guy love me so hard that even in death he didn’t want to let go.

  I could only hope that one day Slash might come to care for me. I wasn’t sure if he was capable of love. Even though I’d known him a long time, this was different. I wasn’t just Grizzly’s adopted daughter, a pain in the ass for the club. I was his wife, and hopefully his old lady. If the club accepted our relationship.

  “You didn’t think you were a little harsh with the server and manager?” I asked.

  “No.” He leaned forward, bracing his arms on the table. “Anyone who hurts you will answer to me. If Terrie had been a man, I’d have taken her outside and beat the shit out of her.”

  My eyebrows went up. “Um, correct me if I’m wrong, but if Terrie had been a man, then I’d have been the one being hit on. Unless Terrie was g
ay.”

  He snorted and a quick grin flashed across his lips before he studied me again. “Lunch. Ring shopping. Anything else you want to take care of around here before we head out in the morning? Anyone you need to say bye to?”

  His hand tightened into a fist even if his face remained impassive. Was he… jealous? “Are you asking if I’m seeing someone and need to break it off?”

  He shrugged a shoulder. Men were so frustrating! And endearing. I kind of liked the thought of the big and powerful Slash being jealous. No, more than that, I liked the thought of him being mine. Married. We might have not had an actual wedding, or exchanged vows, but as far as the Devil’s Fury were concerned, our marriage would be one hundred percent legitimate. Same to anyone who went looking for paperwork. They’d find whatever they needed, even if Wizard had invented all of it.

  Bethany returned with our drinks, topped off the salsa and chips, then rushed off again. All the while, Slash held me mesmerized. There was just something about him. When he walked in a room, everyone noticed. Especially the women. I’d never been immune to him so I could hardly blame them.

  God but I loved this man. And I hoped like fucking hell he never found out. Or rather, not anytime soon. I’d be so embarrassed. And heartbroken when he couldn’t say the words back.

  Still fucking up, Shella. Except now you’ve really gone and done it.

  Chapter Four

  Slash

  Fuck, but she was beautiful. Little Shella had grown up, had curves in all the right places, and made me hotter than hell. Even sitting across from her during lunch, I’d been hard as a steel post. Buying her a ring hadn’t been as easy as I’d thought. Mostly because she wanted to fight me every step of the way.

  Once again, she was browsing the plain wedding bands and I led her back to the case with sparkly rings inside. She stiffened at my side. I didn’t know what she’d known about the club previously. Did she worry I couldn’t afford to buy her a decent ring? Or was something else going on right now?

  “Shell, you deserve the best. Would you please tell me which one you like?” I asked, waving at the case. She sighed and looked up at me. The hurt and uncertainty in her eyes nearly gutted me. What the fuck? I cupped her cheek and lowered my face, dropping my voice so only she could hear me. “Baby, what’s wrong? You said you wanted a ring. Did you change your mind?”

  “I don’t… deserve the best. I’m nothing, Slash. Less than nothing. I don’t need anything fancy. It’s not like… like…” Her eyes filled with tears and she blinked them away.

  “What did I say?” I asked, making my voice harder. “You’re not nothing. You’re sexy. Beautiful. And mine. You hear me? I want the whole fucking world to know it.”

  She trembled and looked seconds from more tears. I released her and looked down at the glass case. A ring in the middle caught my attention. It looked like one of those sets women get after a wedding with two diamond studded bands on either side. The center ring, which I guessed was the engagement ring, had a square cut emerald and small diamonds surrounding it.

  “That one,” I said, pointing it out to the salesman.

  He took it from the case and set it on a black velvet display. I picked it up, noting the price, then took Shella’s left hand and slipped it onto her finger. Perfect fucking fit. If that didn’t mean she was fated for this ring, I didn’t know what did. I took it off and handed it back to him.

  “Remove the tag please? We’ll take it, and she’ll wear it out.” He seemed hesitant so I pulled out my wallet and slapped my card down on the counter. He snatched it and ran to ring up my purchase. While he did that, I noticed Shella staring at something else. I tried to figure out what, and then it hit me. The men’s rings. “Baby, you want me to wear a ring?”

  She sucked in a breath and took a step back. “You don’t have to.”

  What the hell? Why was she suddenly so timid? I waved the salesman back over and found a plain silver band that fit my finger. After I paid for everything, I slipped the ring back onto Shella’s finger and led her from the shop. I didn’t know what was going on in her head, or why she seemed so skittish sometimes. She had to know I wouldn’t hurt her. Not on purpose.

  We rode back to her apartment and went inside. She kicked off her shoes and went straight to the bedroom. I heard the shower start and ran a hand over my head. Women had never been a problem for me. They dropped their panties easily enough. Then again, I hadn’t cared about them. I got off and then forgot them. Couldn’t do that with Shella. Hell, ever since I’d jerked off to her webcam show I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her.

  I pulled off my cut and tossed it onto the couch, then toed off my boots. By the time I reached the bathroom, I’d stripped all the way down to my skin. The frosted glass let me see my wife, and the way she leaned her head against the tiled wall, her shoulders lightly shaking, made it feel like she’d ripped my heart out. I quietly opened the shower door and stepped inside, drawing her against my chest.

  “Shell, talk to me.”

  “S-sorry.” She sniffled and rubbed her cheek against me. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve never cared before. Did everything I could to be a bad girl, and now I’m scared to go home. I’m worried they won’t accept me. Us. I don’t want you to have to choose between me and the Devil’s Fury.”

  I put my fingers under her chin and lifted her face until she held my gaze. “Shell, they wouldn’t dare tell me I can’t keep you. No one stands in my way when I want something.”

  She looked so heartbroken. So damn sad. I couldn’t help myself. I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers. I’d only meant to offer her comfort, but the taste of her lit a fire inside me. I thrust my tongue between her lips and devoured her. The way she clung to me only made me want her more. I backed Shella to the wall, pressing tight against her. There was no hiding the effect she had on me.

  “Slash, please…” She gripped the back of my neck, her nails biting into me. “I need you.”

  I pressed my forehead to hers. “I don’t have any condoms with me. I’m clean, and you’re already pregnant.”

  “I’m clean too,” she said. “I had to get tested before I started working at the strip club, and I haven’t been with anyone since then.”

  I lifted her legs around my waist and notched my cock at her opening, slowly pushing inside. Christ, but she felt fucking fantastic! Hot. Wet. Tight. I groaned, trying to hold onto my control. Bad enough our first time was in the fucking shower, but I wouldn’t take her like she was a damn whore.

  “So perfect,” I said, kissing her again.

  “Don’t coddle me,” she murmured against my lips. “You don’t have to hold back.”

  I pulled my hips back, then sank into her again. Each stroke slow and deep. “You’re my wife, Shell. Not a fucking club whore.”

  Tears glittered in her eyes. Her lips parted and I felt a tremor run through her. I reached between us and rubbed her clit. The little nub was already hard and the way her pussy fluttered around my cock I knew she was close. She felt like silk as I stroked in and out of her. Holding her gaze, I took my time, wanting to give her pleasure instead of focusing on my own.

  My chest grew tight at the look of wonder on her face and when she came, calling out my name, it was the best fucking feeling in the world. No matter how badly I wanted to pound into her tight little pussy, I held back. She’d had enough men use her, treat her like shit, and I refused to be another. I held her tight as my hips jerked a little faster. My balls drew up and I knew I was going to come any second. Kissing her long and hard, I groaned as I came, filling her up.

  My cock twitched inside her, and for the first time in my life, everything felt right. I’d been with countless women, but I couldn’t remember a single one of them. Only Shella. Fuck, but she had me tied up like a damn pretzel. I didn’t think she understood exactly how much power she held over me.

  She buried her face in my chest and I felt her shaking as she cried.

  “
Baby, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  She shook her head. “You didn’t. I just… I didn’t know it could ever be like that.”

  “I can’t promise it will always be soft and slow. I tend to be a rough guy, Shell. You deserve better, and I wanted to give this to you, but there will be times I can’t hold back like I did just now.”

  She ran her fingers over the scruff on my jaw. “I don’t want you to hold back, Talon. You don’t have to try and be something you’re not. I accept you as you are.”

  I smirked. “Better not say shit like that to me, baby. You’ll get tied up, spanked, and fucked hard.”

  Her breath caught and her eyes got darker. “Maybe I’d like that. With you. I… I don’t know about the tying me up part, but the rest…”

  I’d find out exactly who had hurt her in high school. Might take me some time, but I’d hunt them down and make them pay. They’d broken her. She’d been a beautiful, vibrant girl. Sweet as candy. Until they took her innocence. I could turn them over to the police, but I doubted it would do any good. Even if the statute of limitations hadn’t run out, since she hadn’t gone to the hospital for a rape kit, and possibly had no witnesses, it would be a case of her word against theirs. And I couldn’t put her through that without some hope they’d go to jail.

  No, I’d handle it myself. My way.

  Even those cheerleaders would pay. I might not physically hurt them, but I’d find other ways. And I’d make damn sure they knew why they were targeted. No one was going to hurt my little butterfly and get away with it.

  I helped her wash before rinsing off. We got out and I wrapped a towel around her, helping her get dry. After I sent her to the bedroom, I dried myself off and went to slide into bed next to her. It was early. We hadn’t had dinner, but I wasn’t done with her just yet. Now that I’d had a taste, felt her wrapped around me, I knew I needed more.

  “I won’t break,” she said, her chin jutting out at a stubborn angle. “Unless you hold me down, then I might freak out. I won’t know unless we try. I don’t want to be a victim, Talon. You called me a survivor, but I don’t feel like one.”