HIS PLAYTHING: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (Voodoo Devils MC)

by Zoey Parker

  Fuck fuck shit. He was right.

  I had one big question I had to ask. I thought I already knew the answer, and it wasn’t likely to make me happy, but I needed to know, I needed someone to say it. I needed to be sure.

  “How did you find out? How did we suddenly get intel on Keith’s killer?”

  And the answer I had dreaded came swiftly, from Grath. He knew how much this would hurt, too, so he spoke it softly. “Ellie.”

  Of course it was Ellie. Who else could it be? That fucking bitch. She knew. All this time, she knew. And she had let the fucker walk.

  I nodded, stood up, containing my rage, and walked carefully to the door, gathering my thoughts and taking a minute to breathe.

  And then I put my fist through the wall.

  Chapter 16

  Ellie

  When I woke up the next morning, there was a lot of bustling noise and women’s voices coming from the living room and kitchen, and it made no sense to me. It wasn’t even eight yet. Since Peter’s last feeding, I’d managed to pull another two hours of sleep in, but the grog ruled my brain.

  I rolled into a squat and eased my way up to standing, stretching out my back and legs and arms as I went, trying to get some blood flowing up north, but sleep mode had me in a tight lockdown.

  By rote, I checked on Peter. He was still asleep, and the monitor was on. I wandered into the living room, my eyes barely opened. My body moved of its own volition toward the kitchen, seeking the coffeemaker by muscle memory—no credit due to my brain.

  “Great, you’re up! Good morning! Oooh, today is going to be so much fun! But we have…”

  Whoever it was was talking an awful lot. I tried to listen at first, but gave up fairly quickly; the words wouldn’t register yet, anyway. There were at least two or three female bodies moving around, in various colors. I saw blue jeans, a yellow skirt, a white top, some pinks…yep, women. Was Jack having a party? This early in the morning? Huh. Maybe I should be insulted.

  Still, they seemed happy. I didn’t want to be rude. “Mmerng.”

  Jack stood with his hip to the breakfast bar, arms crossed over his chest. I got confused with all the bodies in the way, and lost track of where I had been headed, and why. So I stood there, in the middle of the kitchen, muddled.

  “Ellie. Look at me.”

  Did he have to sound so dominant? Pshhht. I guessed he did. He couldn’t help himself. But it was kind of nice to have some direction all the same, so I looked at him.

  He was watching me with a strange expression, like he was angry but about to laugh at the same time.

  “Coffee.”

  Oh! Right. Coffee. That’s what I came in here for. Coffee.

  I nodded and looked around to see where I might find the coffeemaker.

  “Ellie, it’s next to the fridge.”

  I located it and moved to the counter where it perched. After standing in front of it for a few seconds, I remembered to find the mugs in the cabinet above.

  The ladies were still buzzing around in their own high-pitched world, and I was not tuning in yet. But what I did hear was Jack’s low rumble of a chuckle, and he came up behind me just as I was putting the carafe back onto the hotplate. He put an arm around my shoulders, in front of me, pulling me back into his chest and putting his lips close to my ear. “I can’t stay mad at you when you’re like this. But I am mad at you, and we will talk later.” His voice was so low, I was pretty sure nobody else could hear what he said. I’m not even sure that’s exactly what he said, but that was the gist of it.

  The thing was, he hadn’t touched me in a few days. Not at all. Not even close. So suddenly having him hold me from behind, and whisper in my ear—my body responded immediately. Awake or not, I flushed and felt the usual dampness between my legs. It was getting ridiculous. The man barely had to look in my direction, and I got turned on. With him draped over my back, I could smell his scent just that much easier, and of course my physical response had me blushing immediately.

  He noticed. And he started to get hard in response. I could feel his cock rise against my lower back, and he subtly pressed himself against me, wanting me to feel him, too. I started having problems breathing, and I wanted more. I was about to turn around and…

  “Oh my God, you two are too cute together. But knock it off! Jack-o, get out of here. You’re not even supposed to see her today. Go away! Go on! Shoo!”

  Jack held my upper chest tighter for a moment, dipped his head and bit my neck where it met my shoulder and growled low in frustration. My knees nearly melted out from under me, but somehow managed to keep me upright when he released me and left the room. I was still facing my full coffee mug, now turned on and completely at a loss to comprehend the activity around me.

  Coffee. Yes. I turned to the refrigerator, pulled out the milk, doctored up my mug, and sipped. Eyes closed, swaying slightly, and I began to focus on the sounds of the ladies again.

  “…so we have to hustle, honey. Ellie? Are you listening? Come on, girl. Snap to. Or you’re going to be late to your own wedding!” And she and the other women laughed at her big joke.

  Except—crap! She was right. We were getting married today—but wait. How did she know that? Nobody knew. Or, nobody was supposed to know. How did she know?

  I turned around to face the room again, and found the three witches of Tucson all hovering nearby. My synapses were beginning to fire at a faster pace now, and recognition set in. I had met these ladies earlier in the week; they were all married or partnered with guys from Jack’s MC. They were super nice, and had brought us foodstuffs and baby stuffs and well wishes and offers to help in whatever ways I might need. They didn’t even know me at all, and they had put themselves out to be kind and generous for me and for Peter.

  Whereas my first instinct had been to shut them down this morning, I re-calibrated and decided it was more important I understand what they were saying, and what they were doing here.

  “Um, I’m sorry, I’m an idiot in the mornings. Can we start over? What…”

  “Oh, honey, you are funny. Sure thing.” I recognized the pretty brunette with massively long eyelashes and the body of a fertility goddess as Holly. She was clearly the ringleader. “We’re here to take you to Maggie’s salon. It’s not far, but she has you scheduled for the whole shebang today, so we gotta get going. First thing is set for 8:30. Now, you don’t need anything, really, just you and a pair of flip-flops. We have so much to do! Drink up, chica! Where’s that precious baby of yours? I’m on Peter duty first. I’ll take care of him, he’s coming along—don’t worry—but we have to move, move, move!”

  She was a full-on whirlwind.

  I gestured in the direction of my bedroom, intending to show that I was headed back there myself to get dressed and gather Peter’s stuff, but she raced in front of me, apparently in hot pursuit of my baby. Okay, then.

  The bottle-blonde with the yellow skirt and white tank, who I thought was named Lana, pulled her arm through mine and guided me along the same trail. “We’re about the same size, right? I figured you probably don’t have a dress and all the right stuff. You can’t get married in street clothes, honey. So I brought everything you’ll need—it’s all in my car—and Vero here”—she indicated the third woman, a tiny little thing who appeared to be mixed Asian-American, and stunning—“is a fantabulous seamstress. She is an artiste! So whatever nips and tucks need doing, she’ll do it. You are going to look incredible. Not that you need any help in that department, but still, a bride wants to feel special. Am I right? Wedding is set for five-thirty. It is going to be amaze-balls, darlin’! Oooo! Today is going to be so much fun!”

  Wow. Today was not going to be anything like what I had been figuring. From the sounds of their talk, today was going to be like…a real wedding.

  And I didn’t know if I was ready for that.

  Chapter 17

  Jack

  I felt like I was living somebody else’s life.

  The MC had pulled out
all the stops for me and Ellie today, with the women all taking her off to do whatever it is women do for weddings. A bunch of my MC brothers and I went for a ride.

  It was a gorgeous, sunny day, perfect for the bike. Too bad I was in a piss-poor mood the whole fuckin’ time.

  I knew I should be grateful—and a part of me was—but what I really felt, more than anything else, was resentment.

  I resented Keith for not being there.

  I resented Ellie for lying to me, for making herself into a person I couldn’t count on, couldn’t trust. For not coming forward with what she knew a year ago. For not telling me, more recently, about her suspicions.

  I resented my MC, for making a big deal out of this sham of a marriage.

  I even resented Ellie’s dead grandmother, for forcing her to this point, for putting us in this god-awful situation.

  But most of all—and I hated this shit, but I was being brutally honest here—I resented myself, for wanting more than I could actually have with Ellie, and with Peter.

  I was fucked.

  I figured my best option was to get good and truly obliterated tonight. It seemed the smartest thing to do, given the circumstances.

  It was beginning to hit me that I was actually getting married, even if it was only a temporary arrangement. The ceremony and the celebrations would be as real as they come. The Iron Bandits didn’t cut corners on doing it up. This would be no different, and I knew it.

  So there would be all this hoopla over us tying the knot, the formalization of Ellie and me as a couple, which was irony, defined.

  This woman turned me on like no one else I could think of. I wanted her more than any other woman in my life, and our chemistry together was nothing short of mind-blowingly phenomenal. If I ever was going to marry anyone—which was not something I’d spent much time pondering—I couldn’t think of anyone better to do it with, than her.

  But.

  She was also the only woman, barring those who were actual blood relations, who I could not have.

  This was not a real thing between us. We had already agreed to its end. She wanted it like that. And so did I.

  Right?…Yeah. Right. I did. That’s what I wanted.

  So this whole thing sucked ass.

  “Hey Grump-o,” I heard him before I saw him. It was Grath, of course. He started to lightly jog my way across the compound lot. “Hold up. Got a minute?”

  “Yeah, man. What’s up?”

  “Heard you were being delightful today, on the ride. I figured I’d bathe in the splendor of your joy, rare as it is to be seen.” He grinned and punched me in the arm. Fuckin’ Grath.

  “Be careful I don’t punch your fuckin’ lights out, bruh. I’m in no mood for it.”

  “So I see.” He raised an eyebrow. “Curious.”

  “You need something?”

  “Actually, yeah. I need you to lay off your woman about it tonight. I know how pissed you were last night—completely understandable, man—but you gotta know, she didn’t tell you for good reason. She made some hard—and yeah, questionable—choices last year, but tonight is not the night to deal with that.”

  “You don’t know…”

  He wasn’t even gonna listen to me. “What I know is this: you have a beautiful, kind, caring, and smart woman who is probably freaking the fuck out right now, about to marry your sad ass out of desperation for her baby boy. She knows you’re pissed at her, right? Can’t imagine she wouldn’t, by now. Think, for a minute, about how she feels. Give her tonight. Be nice, brother. Tomorrow is tomorrow. But take tonight off, for both of you. You need it.”

  He was not wrong.

  “Who set you on my tail, man? I gotta go beat somebody up.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, good luck with that. Bull called me at the shop, told me I’d better get my ass over here and talk some sense into you before you fuck everything up even more. You gonna go take out our president, now? That’s a great fuckin’ idea, bruh. I’ll be ringside.”

  I shook my head. We both knew I would not be doing anything to Bull. I had far too much respect for the man, and gratitude for all that he had done for me in this past year. Not to mention that it is not in our MC culture to dis—or piss off—the prez.

  “Listen, man. Let it go. You’re about to marry a gorgeous woman. Let yourself enjoy this. Don’t think about six months from now. Think about Ellie, and think about Peter, and about what this will do for both of them in the long run. You are being a fucking hero to that woman, so act like one. Even if you’re not feelin’ it. She’s been through enough lately, ya know?”

  He was on point. “Yeah.” I nodded.

  I slowly resolved myself to make tonight about her. Help her have some fun, a night off from the many stresses that had been dragging her down for well over a year now.

  Tonight was going to be a long fucking night.

  # # #

  Formal MC events do not involve tuxedoes. We were all in our kuttes, black pants or blue jeans, and long-sleeved white or black linen shirts. Some of the guys had put up a white canopy out on the lawn, and the bikes were all lined up facing each other in two rows, leading from the clubhouse to the canopy, like a guard of chrome. Bull was presiding, Grath was my best man, and everybody else was circled around us and the canopy.

  Waiting there for my bride to walk down the aisle, it felt really strange to be the center of attention like this. I actually felt—I didn’t know what. I wanted Ellie to get her ass out here ASAP, so I wouldn’t be alone as the focal point anymore. Let her have that. But waiting on her, as I was, I was actually starting to fidget.

  Okay. Yeah. I was nervous.

  After what felt like long hours of standing there, waiting, Shredder, our very own lead guitar soloist, finally began playing a recognizable wedding song or piece or whatever it was. Everybody hushed and turned toward the compound to watch as Ellie made her way through the aisle of bikes. She walked alone, but she needed no accompaniment. She looked…

  Beautiful. So goddamn beautiful.

  The silky white dress, veil over her hair, et cetera—all the basic bridal stuff—but none of that mattered, not to me. She was blushing, of course, probably from all the eyes on her. It made her eyes brighter, her face softer, her lips fuller. Not that she needed it—she was always gorgeous, even first thing in the morning when she could barely open her eyes and walked around like a zombie. But today, now, on this occasion, I was blown away.

  This woman was about to marry me. Me.

  Unbelievable.

  And suddenly, I knew I couldn’t hold onto my anger with her any longer. I could barely hold a thought, except for an impatient wish that she would walk faster, get herself to my side sooner. I needed to look into her eyes and see her expression, see what she was thinking, make sure she really wanted this, too.

  Hell, I wanted her to want this—me—for more than just the money. But reality bites, man. No way would either of us have been there, were it not for Peter and that trust fund.

  Maybe I ought to have been thanking her grandmother.

  Ellie finally arrived, and I took her hand, which was soft and light as a feather. Her hand was shaking, so I gave her a squeeze for support. She immediately intertwined our fingers, and I figured that was a good sign—she wasn’t pissed off about the way I had laid into her this morning.

  Just remembering those moments had me getting a semi. Damn. Every time I touched her and she responded was a kind of bliss and torture combined. I’d steered clear the past few days for a reason, but that was not going to be possible for the next several hours. I had no idea how we would survive the next six months.

  I tried to focus. Tonight was just tonight. Live in the now. Moment to moment. Plenty of time to think about the next day when it came. That would have to be my ongoing strategy, and I had no problem with it. Actually, it had long been my general MO.

  Peter was the one who had me thinking differently, recently. His very existence required planning ahead, and I hadn’t even real
ized how much my thinking had altered because I was thinking of him and his needs, and Ellie’s needs in association.

  Was I seriously already becoming a family man? Was that what this all meant?

  I didn’t have time to let myself dig into all that philosophy, not right now.

  Now, I had an unbelievably beautiful woman holding my hand, standing up with me, and needing my help. I’d give her everything I had, tonight.

  Even if it killed me.

  # # #

  We had a fucking great night.

  The ceremony went off without a hitch. Ellie was nervous, but she got through it, even smiling at me shyly most of the time. She blushed as she spoke the vows, of course. It turned me on. As if that was any surprise.