Ozzy (Wayward Kings MC Book 2)

by Zahra Girard

  She returns my kiss. Harder. Hungry.

  There’s desperation and tortured need in the way she presses her lips to mine. In the way her hands clutch me, clasping me close to her, in the way her tongue slides into my mouth, in the way she lets out this little gasp — a gasp that says keep going — when my tongue parts her lips, when my hands explore her body.

  Keep going.

  She reaches out with a delicate hand and grabs my cock through my jeans. I harden instantly at her touch like she’s flipped a switch inside me.

  “Take me to bed, Ozzy,” she says.

  I shake my head. “I can’t make it that far.”

  My lips find their way back to hers. She rises to her feet and throws her arms around me, pressing her body against mine. I can feel her tits against my chest, nipples firm and straining against the fabric of her shirt. Her breath comes in short, desperate gasps.

  “Then fuck me here. Fuck me now.”

  Every touch from her sets off sparks inside me. Sparks that turn into flames. Flames that grow into a roaring fire.

  I need her.

  I press her back against the table, laying her flat.

  “Now,” I growl.

  I seize her pants, ripping them and her panties off her in one pull. Fabric tears and she is bottomless and bare before me.

  Fuck, she’s incredible.

  I can’t resist, I can’t hold back. I get on my knees and bury my face between her legs. She tastes sweet. My tongue luxuriates in the smooth folds of her, exploring every inch of her pussy. Moans and gasps, fingers clutching at my hair, pulling, clawing, drive me to keep going.

  This is what I want. This is what she needs.

  She writhes beneath me.

  “Ozzy, that feels so good,” she moans.

  I suck gently at her clit, pulling it just so.

  “Right there. Just like that.”

  I hold it steady. I lick her just as she begs for. On and on as the moans grow in volume, as her muscles tighten, as deep inside her I sense the growing swell of ecstasy.

  Smooth, pale thighs clamp around my cheeks. She’s close. And I’m going to take her there.

  “Fuck, she screams, abs flexing, every part of her tensing to break in sweet release.

  The taste of her is so sweet, so intoxicating, I don’t want to stop.

  Shaking and twitching with each brush of my tongue, she reaches down and grabs me by the hair and wrenches me to a stop. “Are you trying to fucking kill me?”

  I pull back a bit and laugh. There’s a note in her voice that sounds like the Maria I remember. “Sorry, love, can’t help myself.”

  She smiles at me and shakes her head. “So are are you going to torture me, or are you going to give me what I want?”

  “With pleasure.”

  I position myself between her legs, my cock at the waiting entrance of her tight pussy. I enter her slowly, eyes shut, enjoying the overwhelming warm, wet, embrace of her. This gentle gasp comes from her lips and I pause, taking in the moment.

  I go slow and, after a time, I open my eyes again. She’s looking back at me, eyes shining bright, lips full and in the shape of something that could be considered a smile.

  Bending down, I kiss her. Again and again, the taste of her lips is something I can never get enough of.

  “You are so beautiful,” I whisper to her.

  She rolls her eyes. “You don’t need to fucking butter me up. Your cock is already inside me.”

  “This isn’t some fucking line. I love you.”

  Another kiss.

  “I love you, too,” she says, wrapping her legs around my back.

  We fuck slowly, holding each other. There’s not an inch between us. As good as it feels to be inside her, it feels even better to hold her, to be close to her, and to see her smile. This is a woman better than I could’ve ever dreamed of and there’s no way I’m letting her go.

  She could tell me to fuck her harder, to throw her around and make it rough, but there’s no way I’m going to do that this time. I want to remember this. I want her to remember this. And know that, no matter what, I’m here for her.

  “I’m close,” I whisper to her.

  “I know — I can feel it,” she says. Her legs clamp tighter around my back, pulling me even more into her. She smiles and runs her hand along my cheek. “Let it go, Ozzy. Give it to me.”

  I press my lips to hers. Kiss her as deep as I’ve ever kissed anyone. And I let go. Every part of me goes into her, and she holds me there with her legs, with her lips pressed to mine, until the twitching stops. Until I’m finished.

  Our lips part. Slowly, she releases her legs and, gently, reluctantly, I pull out of her.

  “I love you,” she says. There’s a smile on her face, but a note of sadness in her voice as the ecstasy fades and she comes back to a world where she feels that she’s going to face the problems around her on her own.

  I grin back at her, my chest heaving as my body comes back down to earth. “I love you, too.”

  I lay down on the couch beside her, emotion washing over my body in waves. Contentment and determination surging through me. One way or another, I’ll convince this woman that she is not alone, that love and loyalty isn’t so easy lost.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Maria

  He spends the night.

  We sleep in each others arms, and we fuck three more times that night. Hard and gentle, rough and caring. I get to know his body like I’ve never known another man’s. I learn that I care for him like I’ve never cared for anyone else.

  I don’t feel normal, yet. Not even close.

  But I don’t feel rushed to feel normal, either. Everything I feel from Ozzy is telling me that, though it might take some time — a long time, even — he wants to be with me each step of the way. I don’t know if I can accept that, knowing what I’ve done, but I sleep that night and the pain feels a little less.

  “Good morning,” he says from the doorway to my bedroom, cup of coffee in his hands, dressed, and wearing his cut. His gently rolling Kiwi accent makes me smile. “Come on out to the kitchen. I’ve got breakfast and coffee waiting for you.”

  Yeah, I love this big lug of a man.

  “Really?” I say. Then I sniff the air and smell something vaguely reminiscent of charcoal. “You can cook breakfast, too?”

  He shrugs. “Yeah, well, I tried.”

  I follow him out of the bedroom. There’s a whole spread laid out on the table and he’s already got a plate set up for me.

  The food is terrible — some burnt pancakes and over-done scrambled eggs; whatever cooking skills he learned from his mother must’ve been confined to dinner.

  But I still appreciate the thought. He cares. And he’s doing everything he can to make it plain to me that he’s sticking around.

  “Thank you,” I tell him, keeping a straight face as I finish the last bite of food on my plate, which proves to be a more difficult task than it sounds. Parts of the pancakes are literally ashes in my mouth.

  “No problem,” he says, somehow tearing into his own plate with gusto. “I figured last thing you wanted to deal with was some cooking. I’m surprised you even went to work yesterday.”

  There’s a hint in his voice that I’d have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to get. And he’s right.

  “I’m not going in to work today,” I tell him, already reaching for my phone.

  I call in sick to work. I doubt I would’ve even needed to make the call. I get the feeling Janet probably already called everyone who needed to know to let them in on the fact that I’m definitely going to need some time away to recover.

  Still, that action — anything that even reminds me of the shambles my career and my personal life is in — wipes away so much of the happiness I was feeling this morning. There was something so simple and peaceful about falling asleep in Ozzy’s arms and knowing that, no matter what’s happened, he cares for me. And then the world and my problems had to intrude on that simple joy.


  He waits until I’ve finished my plate and my coffee before taking the dishes from me and carrying them to the kitchen sink.

  “You think you’ll be ready to go out in an hour or two?” he says to me once he comes back to the dining room.

  I look at him, suspicious, thinking.

  “Is this about the rugby game that you sent me tickets to? Because that game isn’t till tonight, and even so, I’m not sure if I’ll be up for going to out to something like that for a long while.”

  He shakes his head, sly grin on his face. “No, this is about something else — even though there is a pre-test event going on at the convention center that we also have tickets for. It’s not just any game tonight — it’s the All Blacks. They’re best team in the world. But, what we’re going to right now doesn’t involve rugby. It’s something you have to see. There’s no getting out of it, love.”

  “What is it?” I say, suddenly less enthused and still suspicious that it might be something to do with rugby.

  He shakes his head. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it?”

  I relent. “Ok, fine. Now, however are we going to kill an hour?”

  He gives me a semi-confused look. “Do you really want me to guess? Or should I just have sex with you?”

  I can’t help it — I laugh. “Get over here.”

  * * * * *

  “The airport?” I say, unable to keep the confusion and disappointment out of my voice.

  This surprise is much less romantic than I was expecting. The airport’s full of lines and security checkpoints and many thousands more people than I want to see today.

  This is the exact opposite of a surprise.

  “Yeah, but trust me, this is important,” he says, keeping his eye on one of the doorways marked Alaksa Airlines.

  “You sure there isn’t something else we could be doing?” I say.

  Anything else would be more appealing than sitting on a busy curb, staring at a door. We have an uber idling behind us and, even if Ozzy offers to take me somewhere ridiculously romantic — like Bora Bora or Fiji or somewhere fun like Rio De Janeiro — I’m not up for any sort of travel right now. I shot someone in the head a couple days ago and a vacation doesn’t seem remotely appropriate.

  “Just wait,” he says, checking his phone.

  So I wait.

  Impatiently.

  Watching people in a hurry go by us, some into the airport, some out of the airport and to their cars or waiting taxis or further down the way to catch Blue Line back to Downtown or onward to Forest Park. All these people that I don’t give a damn about.

  And then I see it.

  Or them, actually.

  Two faces. Smiles.

  Familiar. Welcome.

  Bear and Roxy.

  My heart surges in my chest. I should be glad to see them — the two people that are, next to Ozzy, the closest to me in the world. And yet, seeing them makes me nervous and anxious in a way that I don’t know if I’m ready for.

  Two new people that I’m going to have to recount things for.

  Two new people that are going to learn about everything I’m responsible for, everything I’ve done, and about the person that I killed.

  I look up at Ozzy, tears turning my vision glassy.

  He’s looking back at me with a confident smile on his face.

  “They’re here because they love you, too,” he says. “Remember, you’re family. You’re important to them, just as you’re important to me.”

  It makes me feel stronger. Brave. I can do this.

  My mouth hangs open so far I can almost feel my chin hit the pavement. “How?”

  “I had a hard time getting to sleep after the third time we had sex last night. There was a lot of stuff on my mind, and I was worried about you, so I called Roxanna. We got to talking for a while.”

  I gape at him. Partly in disbelief, partly in shock that he would just call up my best friend in the middle of the night and talk about me after everything that’s happened.

  “You called Roxy at three in the morning to talk about me? What did you tell her?”

  He chuckles. “She was up already anyways, what with the baby and all. As for what I told her, well, I kept it pretty vague, but you know how she is. She can be pretty tough to keep a secret from.”

  I nod. I’m still having a hard time processing everything, but, as shocked as I am, I can feel the smile on my face as my best friend catches sight of us and waves.

  Her voice — a joyous ‘hi’ — comes to me over the roar of the airport traffic.

  It’s been so long since I’ve seen her and her husband, Bear. The sight of the two of them, so happy and building a family together — something she has wanted for the longest time — lifts my heart.

  I wave back.

  Before I know it, I’m running to her.

  I give her the kind of hug that only happens when it’s been too long since you’ve seen your best friend. The kind of hug that makes your vision go blurry and makes you afraid your ribs are going to pop.

  We squeeze each other until it hurts.

  “Fuck, I’ve missed you so fucking much,” I say.

  “I’ve missed you, too,” she says.

  We break our hug, and then I’m instantly wrapped up by Bear in a monster hug that has me seeing stars. It feels indescribably good to have these two around me.

  “I’m so glad to see you,” I say to both of them. “I can’t believe you both came all the way out here at the last minute.”

  “You’re family,” Bear says. “Might not be by blood, but that doesn’t matter — you’ve saved everyone’s asses and the least we can do is remind you that you mean something to us.”

  “We love you, Maria,” Roxy says.

  “Seriously, both of you, shut up. I’ve fucking cried enough these last couple days as it is, I don’t need to do it in the fucking parking garage at O’Haire.”

  “I expect at least a few tears. I mean, why else would we get on a last minute flight?” Bear says.

  I glare at him. “Really?”

  Roxy elbows him in the side. “No. Not really,” she says. Then she looks to Ozzy, who’s been standing by my side with a proud grin on his face. He’s right to feel proud. Though I didn’t know it, having these two around is important to me. It’s times like this where I need my friends and family. “Where to now?”

  “I reckon we head to a bar, first. The kind of things we’ve got to talk about require a few pints,” Ozzy says. “Then, well, we’ve got some very important things to do after.”

  “What time does it start, Ozzy?” Bear says.

  “What time does what start?” I say, nearly talking over Bear.

  “I invited them to the rugby game with us. For some reason, there were still some tickets left. I don’t know what it is with you Yanks, sometimes.”

  “We’re really going to that?” I say.

  Roxy gives me a look. “You really have a problem with watching men with nice asses wearing short shorts and wrestling with each other? Who the hell are you?”

  I shrug. “Not exactly. I mean, I think it’s a beautiful thing. But it seems a little fucking much right now.”

  “Then you can just get drunk like everybody else and yell a whole lot. Come on, it’ll feel good,” Bear says.

  “Come on, Maria. There’s never a wrong time for nice butts.”

  “Let’s just concentrate on getting to the bar first, alright? We really do have some important stuff to talk about. And then, if we’re feeling up to it, we can catch the test match,” Ozzy says, slipping his arm over my shoulder and pulling my head to his chest.

  I close my eyes and give up the fight. I know I’m trapped. Not just in going to the bar, but also in going to that rugby game. But I’m trapped in the best way possible. With my friends, with my family, with the man I love.

  “Fine. We’ll go to the fucking rugby game. But if I don’t see some seriously nice butts, you’ll fucking hear about it.�
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  “There’ll be great butts,” he laughs. “I promise.”

  Epilogue

  Maria

  Finding the nearest bar is easy. Just like around most airports, in most cities, it can be done by closing your eyes and pointing in any given direction.

  And so it goes. I spend the morning getting drunk with the people I care about more than anything else in the world. People that lift me up and put a smile on my face even when I feel like I’m only hours removed from hitting rock bottom.

  I love them. And that’s before I get three Jack & Cokes in and I work up the courage to tell Roxanna and Bear everything.

  Everything.

  It hurts like I could never imagine. It hurts admitting that things got so completely out of my control. It hurts admitting how close I was to doing something so selfish as to turn over my friends just to salvage my career.

  I’ve always been the one who has their career and their life firmly in hand, and admitting that there was a part of me that so spiraled out of control is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

  But through it all, they listen.

  And as pessimistic, hurt, and looking-for-judgement as I am, I don’t see a shred of it cross any of their faces as I unwind the twisted mess of the last few days for them.

  When I finish, Roxy reaches across the table and takes my hand.

  “I’m so sorry,” she says. “You know I still love you. Even more now than I did before.”

  Bear reaches across and puts his hand atop mine and Roxanna’s. “You went through a lot, but we’re going to be here for you. Whatever you need. You’re a part of the club. You’re family.”

  Ozzy, silently, leans over and kisses my cheek and his hand settles on top of the others. “Whatever you need. I’m yours.”

  I pick up my drink with my free hand and hide my rapidly-shattering mask of calm by taking a long drink. Their words, their support, means more to me than they’ll ever know.

  “Thank you,” I say, when I think I have the strength to keep my voice straight.

  Roxanna and Bear each squeeze my hand again, Ozzy kisses me, and, it’s like they can sense how drained and exhausted I am — they move on. Ozzy starts in on some story about the All Blacks and how they won the last Rugby World Cup in 2015, beating Australia, and making it two World Cup wins in a row — the first time any team has defended their world title.