Taking a deep breath, I gently tuck a stray strand of Zara’s hair behind her ear.
“As for when you’re all arriving, I already know. Chase called an hour ago and filled me in. He said he’s booked rooms for you here, and we’re all expected to meet for breakfast in the hotels’ restaurant. No bitching. No negotiating. Be there, or be dead were his exact words. I’m pretty sure that part was for my benefit, but I’d say err on the side of caution and show up on time for once.”
Locke laughs at my recount of his dad’s instructions, taking pleasure in reminding me of the one time I dared to defy him.
“You remember the great pancake incident of 2009?”
Muttering under my breath, I sigh,
“Who could fucking forget it?”
“I’ve never seen my old man more pissed than he was that day,” Locke rumbles through his laughter. “I thought he was going to have a shit hemorrhage when you showed up late with Lena on your arm and Zara started that food fight.”
“Shut the fuck up, man,” I groan.
“No way. That shit was epic, brother. You should have seen Lena’s face when that first piece of pancake hit her cheek; I thought she was going to spit fire she was that pissed.”
He’s not wrong. Lena was never playful. Not in the bedroom or out of it for that matter. Zara, on the other hand, is always up for a good time. Whether it’s on the back of an ATV, snowball fights in winter, playing drinking games with Kool-Aid because she’s entertaining her friends’ kids, or starting food fights, my woman is the first to insight a rebellion all in the name of fun.
“Yeah, and if I remember correctly, your Pop is the only reason she escaped without an hour long lecture and a month long grounding,” I remind him.
“Don’t know where you’re getting your information, brother, but you can take it to the bank that my baby sister was grounded all right. Two months, no friends, not even sleepovers at Nan and Pop’s, no TV, and no phone. Dad was fucking livid, even more so because Zara wouldn’t tell him why she started it, to begin with,” Locke chuckles.
That’s news to me. Zara always claimed that her dad had gone easy on her because her Pop had shielded her from his wrath. Not that Chase would have physically hurt his daughter, not in this fucking lifetime; he’s simply not built like that.
Curious I prod,
“Did she ever come clean and tell him why?”
“No, but a few years later she told me. And honestly, when she did, I wanted to kick your wife’s ass,” Locke admits reluctantly. “Sorry, man, but Lena was always a fucking bitch to Zara. Usually, it was just shit like giving her the evil eye or ignoring her, but the day before we had breakfast was worse than most.”
“Tell me,” I demand, feeling the anger toward Lena I’ve spent months trying to repress building.
“It doesn’t matter now, Knight. That chapter of your life is over and done with. Don’t rehash shit you can’t do anything about; it’ll only eat at you and probably upset my sister.”
“How about you let me be the judge of that?” I snap impatiently.
“Fine,” my best friend hisses. “Lena caught Zara at a weak moment and told her she was stupid, fat, and ugly. That a girl like her could never get a man like you to take notice of her, so it was in her best interest to stop trying. There was something in there about Zara being the cause for her mom leaving her dad and a bunch of other shit, but it was the stuff about you that hit my sister the hardest.” On a heavy sigh, Locke goes on to say, “We all knew she was in love with you, Knight. We just didn’t know how deep those feelings ran. Lena used them to prey on Zara. She knew exactly what she was doing by running her down and attacking her self-esteem, and she used my sisters love for you to do it. Didn’t you ever wonder why after that the times Zara was in the same room as you and Lena were few and far between?”
Thinking back on it, I realize he’s right. I can only recall a handful of occasions we were all together afterward.
“Shit!”
“Yeah, that about covers it. It took everything in me not to show up on your doorstep when I found out and make Lena feel just as bad as she’d made Zara feel, but my sister forced me to promise I wouldn’t. She threatened to key my truck if I got involved so I kept my mouth shut. My truck, man. My fucking truck. Vicious little she-demon,” he huffs affectionately.
The sound of knocking interrupts his tirade. I hear shuffling, the rustle of sheets and a muttered curse before Locke bites out,
“Gotta go. Speaking of she-demons, there’s one at my front door I need to deal with before I’m stuck in an enclosed space with her for hours with no escape.”
“You do that,” I say, my voice filled with humor that Locke doesn’t miss.
“I’m glad you find this funny, fucker. And I wish I could say, just you wait your day will come, but it already has, and your good mood is ruining my bad one so I’m out. I will tell you this much, though; you hurt my baby sister, and I’ll fucking kill you. See you soon, brother,” he says disconnecting us.
Most people would take a threat like that from a man like Locke seriously, but seeing as I have no intention of hurting Zara, now or ever, I brush it off and drop my phone onto the floor beside the bed.
Pulling my woman into my arms, I lay her head on my chest and cover us both with the blanket bunched at our feet. Thankfully, she doesn’t stir other than to bury further into my side, and once I’ve got us situated, I fall into the most peaceful nights’ sleep I’ve ever had.
*****
All too soon the sound of pounding on the door of our suite wakes me up and causes Zara to let out the cutest little whine.
“Tell whoever it is to go away. I’m busy.”
Brushing a kiss on her lips, I smile.
“And what am I supposed to tell them you’re busy doing?”
“Sleeping, of course. What else would I be doing at this time in the morning with a very sexy, very naked, very hard man lying next to me?” She whispers, fisting my morning wood in her hand.
Grunting as her hand shuffles up and down the length of my cock, I stop my little vixen from making it impossible for me to keep my promise to her dad mid-stroke.
“It’s your dad, baby,” my rough voice groans as she spreads my pre-come across the tip.
“My care factor is approximately zero until I’ve had my morning dose of monster cock, so tell him to get lost for the next hour or two,” Zara instructs, kissing her way down my chest.
“Fuck. Jesus. Baby, stop” I growl as Zara engulf my cock in her warm, wet, ravenous little mouth.
Her tongue flicks over my frenulum, wracking my body with a delicious shudder as my blood heats and my balls tighten in anticipation. With her mouth working my cock in and out of her throat, I’ve got no hope of standing, let alone answering the fucking door so Chase is just going to have to wait. Like it or not, his little girl is mine, and she is currently otherwise occupied, although I don’t think it’s necessary to tell him precisely what she’s busy doing.
“Shower. Now,” I manage to grind out between wet strokes of Zara’s tantalizing pink tongue.
“Hell yes,” Zara chirps, jumping up from between my legs giggling as she runs to the bathroom.
My phone rings twice before I answer it, snapping,
“Give us half an hour and we’ll be down.” I don’t wait for Chase’s reply. Instead, I hang up and follow after his daughter.
When I enter the bathroom, Zara is already in the shower soaping up her tits and the sight alone makes my mouth water. I want to taste her, suck on her nipples until she moans and begs. I want to grab her ass and spank her with my rock hard cock. My need for her is so visceral, so extreme that I’m throwing the door open and stepping into the stall with her before I even realize I’ve moved.
My dick pleads for attention as I watch the side run down her lithe body and the playful way she washes her perfect curves.
“Turn around and put your hands on the wall. Tip your ass for me and let me see what�
��s mine.”
Zara complies immediately, giving me an unhindered view of her plump pussy lips peeking out from between her thighs. Tracing the tip of one finger down the crack of her ass, I find her clit and tease it until Zara’s spine snaps straight, and her whimpers turn into mewls.
“Please, honey. I need to come. Make me come,” Zara begs, bending over and touching her toes.
Fuck me! There’s nothing better than Zara’s ass, her tits, her strong, toned thighs, and her cunt dripping, swollen, and ready for my cock. So much so, I wish I could take a picture of her bent over like this.
“Don’t. Fucking. Move,” I command, lubing up my cock along the length of her slit. “You move and I’ll stop.”
Slamming into her, I groan at the sensation of her pussy enveloping me, accepting every inch I have to give. Tight, warm, and wet, Zara’s cunt grips my cock like a silken fist – a thousand tongues licking fire all the way down to my balls and back again. Like I said, nothing fucking better.
“Knight,” she screams after a few dozen thrusts, her pussy becoming impossibly tighter.
I slap her ass knowing full well it will draw out her orgasm, and piston in and out of her like a man possessed. And I suppose, for lack of a better description, I am. Possessed by her and possessive of her.
Needing to get closer, I draw Zara’s back up to meet my chest and then turn her around to face me. Her legs move to automatically grip my waist as I hoist her into my arms, using the shower wall and my strength to support her.
Pushing back inside of her, I note the look of rapture on her face and growl,
“Fuck, I love you.”
Zara strokes across my jaw saying,
“I love you more,” before kissing me passionately.
Both of us shatter short moments later, but I don’t pull out of her pussy. Instead, I lean into Zara, pressing her further into the wall and continue to glide in and out of her heat until I’m sure I’ve drained the last of my come from my body.
It’s insane, I know that, but I want to see Zara round and heavy with my baby. I want to hear her complain about swollen ankles, needing to pee every five minutes, and what color to paint the nursery. And I want all of that now. Fuck waiting. Fuck what anyone else thinks. If I have my way, by the end of our combined wedding and honeymoon, my soon-to-be wife will be knocked the fuck up, even if I have to practice morning, noon, afternoon, and night.
CHAPTER TWENTY
~ Zara ~
“The best thing about me is that I’m a limited edition. And right about now, I bet you’re thinking thank the good Lord for that.”
– Zara to her dad
“You sure you want to go through with this, baby girl? If you’ve changed your mind, I can kill him instead. I know how to dispose of a body so that no one will ever find it,” my dad offers with a note of seriousness to his tone that would be disturbing if I were anyone else.
Standing here in my knee length wedding dress, I feel more beautiful than I ever have, which fortunately for my dad, overshadows my desire to duct tape his mouth shut. I don’t usually wear overly feminine clothing, I’m more a jeans and yoga pants kind of girl, but I absolutely adore this dress. It’s me, and I have a feeling Knight is going to love it too.
Ivory with a dark purple sash, it’s strapless and cut longer at the back than it is at the front. Simple yet perfect, as Scarlet described it. Smoothing down the slinky fabric at my hips, I raise an eyebrow at my dad.
“Do I want to know how you know that or is that information classified?”
Smirking at me, dad winks.
“Some things you’re better off being kept in the dark about, sweetheart.”
“Hmm,” I hum. “I wonder if Ashleigh would agree with that?”
Pulling me into his arms, my dad squeezes me tightly as if he doesn’t want to let go.
“I’m going to miss the hell out of you, Zara.”
I scoot back an inch and look him in the eye, my lips tilting upward.
“You make it sound like I’m going somewhere. I’ll be home in a week, dad. And for the record, I intend to be around to annoy you long enough that you’ll eat those words.”
“Never,” he huffs. “Sure, you and your brothers piss me off, pretty much every fucking day, but I’ll always miss you when you’re not around. I’m kinda used to you, kid,” dad quips, kissing my forehead.
Tears spring to my eyes at his heartfelt admission. It’s not often that I hear dad speak without his usual undercurrent of humor or sarcasm.
“I love you, daddy,” I sniffle.
“And I, you. You’ll always be my little girl whether you like it or not. I’ve loved you from the second you were placed in my arms, and I’ll love you until the day I take my last breath. Now, what do you say we go make that man of yours the luckiest bastard on the planet?”
Knight and I chose one of the small wedding chapels just off the strip to get married. We had the choice between Liberace, Elvis, or the owner, a short, pudgy man in his mid-sixties marrying us, and chose the latter. I mean, it’s one thing to enjoy the entertainment the city of sex and sin can provide, just not as it pertains to my wedding vows. The last thing I wanted to do was burst out laughing in the middle of the ceremony because I was faced with a flamboyant reincarnation of the king of rock ‘n’ roll.
In a small room with six pews on either side of a short aisle, I hook my arm through my dads’ and walk toward the man I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. From the outside looking in, this is all happening really fast. Especially considering it was just yesterday that Knight showed up at the hotel. But in all honesty, I’ve been waiting for this day forever. Wishing and dreaming it would come, but never getting my hopes up because the higher I built it, the further I’d fall if it didn’t come to fruition.
My eyes locked on Knight the second I rounded the corner, and I haven’t been able to tear them off him since. He isn’t wearing a tux, nor is he wearing a suit – I didn’t want him to be anything but himself today. Instead, he has on a pair of faded jeans, a thankfully, clean white T-shirt, and his well-worn, black motorcycle boots.
On my side of the church is Mia, Scarlet, and Ebonee – who was a last minute addition at Nate’s decree – my unofficial bridesmaids. I told them to wear whatever they wanted, even if it’s a bikini as long as they’re comfortable, but I see none of them took my flippant attitude toward their attire to heart.
Somehow all three women, given next to no notice, have managed to find dresses in the exact same shade of blue; the only difference being their variation in style. Mia’s sits just below her knee, where Ebonee’s cuts off three inches above. Scarlet, on the other hand, is showing what would be classified as an indecent amount of skin if we were anywhere but Vegas. Not that I care; it is merely an observation.
But interestingly enough, it isn’t the dress that’s barely covering her ass or the sky-high stripper heels Scarlet has on that causes me to second guess if what I’m seeing is real. The all too knowing way, Locke, is devouring my best friend with his eyes is one I’ve seen before. It’s the way Knight looks at me just before he uses his sinfully wicked tongue or equally magnificent cock to make me scream.
While this recent development requires a thorough explanation, including all the sordid details – preferably accompanied by copious amounts of vodka to help me through the trauma of hearing about my brothers’ sex life – that will have to wait. I have a man to marry and a honeymoon suite to christen.
“You look fucking amazing, baby,” Knight rasps, squeezing my hand.
Winking at him, I whisper,
“If you think this dress is amazing, you should see what I’m wearing underneath it.”
Knight tugs me into his side, wrapping his heavily muscled arm around my shoulder.
“Please tell me you’ve got panties on because if you don’t, there’s a fucking good chance I’m not going to make through the ceremony without coming in my jeans.”
Giggling at him, I place
a soft kiss on his neck and grin at the pained expression on his face.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” Making a show of looking down at my non-existent watch, I add, “In T-minus, hopefully, half an hour or less.”
His arm spasms, pulling me even closer if that’s possible.
“Let’s get this done,” Knight commands suddenly, making me jump and triggering snorts of amusement and laughter from our friends and family.
When the officiant asks who is giving me away, Pop stands up proudly, grinning like crazy.
“Her father and I do. Or if he doesn’t,” Pop smirks, gesturing to dad, “then it’d be just me.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” dad snarls. “Can’t we celebrate one occasion without you being a smartass. If it’s not you, it’s her.”
“Chase,” Ashleigh chastises. “It’s our daughter’s wedding day. Stop being an asshole and leave your dad alone.”
Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 2: Gage ~ Cash ~ Knight (Vengeance MC series Book 8) Page 71