Rough & Ready (Notorious Devils Book 5)

by Hayley Faiman

  “I’ve never even thought about a tattoo before. I have no clue where I could put one that would look cute,” she mumbles.

  “Would love it if you put it somewhere that it would be seen,” I say as I rub my thumb on the soft skin of her thigh.

  We continue to drive in silence for at least another thirty minutes, until I feel her eyes on me, and then she speaks.

  “What about my shoulder? That way I could hide it for work, or whatever, but a tank or an off the shoulder shirt would show it off?” she asks.

  I can’t help the way my chest swells with pride. I don’t deserve to have my brand on her, not at this point; and yet, she’s willing to do it for me.

  “Yeah?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” she nods.

  “So, I gotta go with one of the brothers for work on Monday. I’ll leave you my car, and maybe you can stay with his Old Lady?”

  “Have I met her yet?” she asks.

  “Naw, Genny doesn’t come down to the clubhouse much. It’s Soar’s Old Lady,” I explain.

  “Soar has an Old Lady?” she asks with wide eyes, confusing me.

  “Yeah, his wife, Genny.”

  “Interesting,” she mutters. My hand on her thigh tightens, a-fuckin-gain.

  “Nothing happened,” she quickly cries out. I release her, not realizing that I had such a tight grip on her leg. “We just talked. I just didn’t know he was married. He didn’t act like he was.”

  “Yeah, well, Soar never acts like he’s married,” I chuckle. “You’ll meet her at the wedding; then Monday you can stay with her, keep each other company for a couple weeks.”

  “Yeah, okay,” she mutters. I shake my head.

  She’s thinking, which could be good—but odds are, it probably isn’t. Doesn’t matter. We’re almost at the clubhouse, and I’m about half an hour away from being balls deep inside her cunt again.

  I stretch and reach over to where Paxton should be sleeping, but the bed is empty. Other than him taking me to work yesterday, we haven’t done much the past week except have sex. He’s kept me holed up in his little room and hasn’t wanted me to leave. We eat, have sex, sleep, I go to work, come back, eat, and have more sex.

  I ache in the best ways possible. I’m falling for him, at least my body is. My heart? I’m not so sure about. I’m finding it hard to think past my hormones, and I’m too old to lead with that part of me again. I did it once and ended up shattered.

  “Hey, you’re up,” Paxton mutters distractedly as he looks at his phone and closes the bedroom door behind him.

  “Where were you?” I ask on a yawn.

  “Busy,” he shrugs, still not looking up from his phone.

  He doesn’t tell me what he was busy doing, and that sets me on edge immediately. While we’ve been having fantastic sex, I also feel like I haven’t gotten to understand his life any better, or the people he shares it with.

  I feel as though he’s segregating me, and I want to know why. I also haven’t learned anything new about him. We haven’t talked—at all.

  “I have to work today,” I announce.

  “You’ll be off in time for the wedding, right?” he asks, lifting his eyes for a second to look at me. I nod and he goes right back down to staring at his phone.

  “Yeah,” I say wanting to do anything but go to this fucking wedding.

  A wedding where everybody will know each other. Then there’s me, this woman whose been holed up inside of Paxton’s room. Technically, I’m his wife; however, I feel like nothing but his whore.

  I can’t pretend that I’ve been learning anything new about him this past week. He isn’t opening up, and every time I try to talk to him, he shuts me up. Although, he does it the best way possible, by giving me an orgasm.

  “I need to leave here in an hour if I want to make it to the shop on time,” I announce as I slide out of bed, wearing nothing but his t-shirt.

  I start to walk past him but don’t get far. His arm comes out, and his hand wraps around my waist, pulling me to his front. I watch as he tosses his phone onto his bed, and dips his face down, his lips capturing mine.

  I melt into him, just like I always do, my hands sliding up his chest to grab ahold of his soft hair while his lips take mine. When his tongue slides inside of my mouth I can’t stop the moan that escapes me as I press my body closer to his, my hardening nipples scraping against the shirt I’m wearing and making me wet.

  “Cleo,” he groans as his hands skim the exposed bottom cheeks of my ass.

  “I need to get ready for work,” I whisper.

  “You need to suck my cock,” he grunts.

  My eyes widen. We’ve had plenty of sex, but that’s something I’ve never done, not even when we were first married. I can’t deny that it’s something I’ve thought about. Back then, and especially now, but I’ve never actually done it for him. I did with my ex, Brad, a few times, but he acted like he didn’t like it. I don’t know why, and I honestly didn’t care enough to ask. Now, I’m wishing that I’d asked.

  “Paxton,” I whisper.

  “Had a rough mornin’, sweetheart. Suck your man’s cock and make him feel better, yeah?”

  I slowly sink down to my knees, my hands quickly finding his belt and unlooping it before I slowly unbuckle and unzip his jeans. Then I push them past his hips and gently pull his tight boxer briefs down his hips. His cock comes out, jutting straight toward me. I lift my eyes and look up to Paxton. His jaw is set as he watches me, the look in his eyes undecipherable.

  “Need to fuck your mouth, Cleo,” he rasps.

  “Paxton, we’ve never…”

  “Christ, Cleo,” he shouts as he takes a step back and pulls up his jeans. “Fucking shit. You’re a fucking grown woman. How in the fuck do you not know how to suck cock?”

  My heart starts pounding in my chest, and my face heats, surely turning bright red at his words. I don’t cry, though. I control myself. I stand up as gracefully as I can, in nothing but a shirt and no panties, and I tip my head back to look into his eyes.

  “You’re an asshole, Paxton. Fucking hell. What the hell is wrong with you? This push and pull, this I want you and I want us to work, but as long as I don’t ask too many questions, as long as I’m exactly the way you want me to be, is obnoxious. Figure your shit out. Jeez.” I stomp my foot once before I walk past him, grabbing my bathroom toiletry bag on my way out.

  I take a long shower, washing my hair and enjoying the peace and quiet as I do. I’m suddenly extremely thankful that I didn’t go right out and get a tattoo of his name on my body.

  Honestly, I’m not sure if this is going to work out. The sex is phenomenal, but I don’t know anything more about him today than I did twelve years ago, except for what his job was in the military. That’s it. I’m literally sleeping with a stranger.

  Once I’m showered, I wrap a towel around myself and head back to Paxton’s room, only to run into Soar on my way down the hall.

  “Hey, there,” he chuckles as he sways, wrapping his hand around my bicep.

  “Hey,” I sigh, holding onto my towel a little tighter.

  “Me and your man are takin’ off for a coupla weeks. You and Genny’ll have fun. Just don’t get in her way if she’s in one of her bitch moods,” he chuckles. I look up into his glassy eyes. He’s high as shit right now.

  “I think I’m going to stay with my friends. It’ll just be easier to be in Redding,” I murmur.

  “Yeah, and then maybe you can let me know how well that goes over with that man you’re married too,” he laughs as he walks away.

  I hurry back into the bedroom and lock the door behind me only to find Paxton sitting on the bed, his head in his hands.

  “Today’s the day my dad died, twenty-years ago,” he mutters. “I don’t talk about my parents because my mom is a piece of shit, and she hates me. She hated my dad, she hates everyone. My dad was so fucking awesome, though. He was a Notorious Devil in Idaho, in my hometown. He died when a guy driving a semi fell asleep and
drifted into his lane. Head-on collision on a motorcycle with a semi-truck—think you know that wasn’t something anyone could walk away from breathin’.”

  I suck in a breath at his words and hurry to his side, wrapping my arm around his back and resting my head on his shoulder.

  “Swore I was gonna be better, do better, for him. He was in the Air Force, but not in a special unit like I was. I did what he did. I joined and I was better. I also saw a lot more shit, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t there to see any of it, or to help me through any of the tough shit. I’m sorry I was an ass to you, sweetheart,” he murmurs as he turns his head and looks at me. There’s wetness brimming in his eyes, and it makes my heart ache just to look at him.

  “Pax,” I whisper.

  “It doesn’t excuse a fuckin’ thing, but what I said, it wasn’t nice,” he murmurs.

  I cup his rough cheek in my hand, noticing this is the first morning he hasn’t had a freshly shaven face. I run my thumb along the apple of his cheek, feeling his warmth.

  “It wasn’t nice, but thank you for telling me all of that. I really appreciate it,” I whisper.

  “Let’s get you ready for work, so you can come to the wedding tonight,” he rasps.

  “Okay,” I agree, unmoving.

  “Cleo, baby you gotta get movin’ if you don’t want me inside of you.”

  I press my legs together, thinking that’s exactly what I want from him. He’s given me a slice of his past, and for whatever reason, my body is responding to that with fire running through my veins. My pussy is aching for his dick. It’s like his being open and honest freaking turns me on.

  Opening up to Cleo was not my intention this morning. Some shit is better left unsaid; but I was an ass, and she looked about two seconds from bolting. She wants more from me now, so much more than she used to. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to fucking cope with that shit.

  It’s going to be hard as fuck, and I’ve been ignoring it for so long, putting a band-aide on it with booze and bitches. I pinch my eyes closed and think about the nightmares that are sure to surface in full fucking force. Goddammit, why does she have to be made for me? Why do I want to give her everything, and why the fuck am I such a fucking pussy about it?

  “You look about two seconds from either throwing that bottle across the room, or beating some guy’s ass,” Fury states.

  I turn around to face my old President from Idaho. My friend. He’s in town for his dad’s wedding. Standing, I wrap my arms around him in a hug and tell him that it’s damn good to see him again.

  “You got your shit handled?” he asks as he sits down next to me a few moments later.

  “Kind of,” I chuckle, taking a pull from my beer.

  “Brother,” he grunts.

  “I treated her bad before I left her, then I abandoned her. Wounds like that? They don’t heal overnight. For now, I got her with me. Things are shaky, but she’s here with me,” I shrug.

  “Can’t keep her in the clubhouse like that, not with the women and parties around. You want this shit to really work with her, you have to get a place for just the two of you,” he advises.

  “You know, Kentlee has made you soft as fuck. Ten years ago, you would have told me to ditch her and go fuck fresh pussy,” I chuckle.

  “Ten years ago, I didn’t have the love of a good woman. I didn’t have three kids and one on the way. Livin’ this life, you’re a lucky bastard if you have half of the love Kent gives to me. What about your woman, what’s she givin’ you?”

  “If I let her know about my entire past, if I let her in?” I ask as my eyes shift back to his.

  “Yeah,” he grunts.

  “Everything. She’d give me fuckin’ everything, and be sweet as fuck as she did it all, too,” I say, my voice hoarse and just above a whisper.

  “Then make that shit happen, brother. Swear to Christ, you won’t regret a goddamn minute of it,” he rumbles. “Now you gonna drink with me so that I can grow my dick back to replace this pussy I suddenly got between my legs?”

  “Shit,” I laugh as I finish off my beer. “Can’t get too drunk, it’s Prez’ wedding today.”

  “I gotta watch my old man marry a woman over fifteen years younger than me—a woman he knocked up. I’m gonna need some fuckin’ booze to get through it all,” he grins.

  “You love seein’ your old man happy,” I point out.

  “Sure as fuck do, brother,” he agrees before he holds up his hand to get the prospect behind the bar’s attention.

  We spend the rest of the day drinking, switching between beer and Tequila while all the Old Ladies help prepare the wedding shit, and then themselves for the big event. I don’t worry about Cleo, knowing that the prospect I scheduled to watch over her will bring her back here after she’s off work this evening.

  By the time the wedding is about to start, I realize that she’s not back yet. I send the prospect who’s supposed to be bringing her back here a text. His reply makes me see red. She’s not only still working, she supposedly doesn’t know when she’ll be off.

  I watch the nuptials of my new president to his new bride. They look happy—blissful, actually—and I wonder if that’s what I looked like the day I married Cleo. I remember it well. We’d only been dating a few months, but she was it for me. Sweet as fucking sugar and a virgin. Fuck, I hadn’t ever been with a virgin; but she was, and I made her mine.

  I knew a girl like her, with the past she had—her parents dying, and then her only other relative dying—that she’d always stay by my side. Was it selfish of me? Yeah. Fuck, yeah. I never claimed to be selfless. I was everything to her, her only family, her only source of income, and her husband.

  I close my eyes for a second and feel that burn of pain slice through me. The way I treated her, I don’t deserve to have her back, but she’s here. Now she’s throwing sass my way, and she’s not at this wedding where she said she would be. That pisses me off. The longer the reception goes on, and the longer she doesn’t show, the more I drink.

  Then the prospect texts me with an ETA, stating she’ll be arriving in about ten minutes. I make my way to the front of the clubhouse to wait for her. My body swaying with each step I take.

  She’s mine, and she’s going to stay that way.

  I’m having her branded before I take off for Denver on my run.

  I watch as the prospect’s single cab truck pulls up to the clubhouse. I’m so mad at Cleo, I don’t even see her face. All I see are shapes and colors. The prospect doesn’t say anything to me as he slips by and makes his way inside. Cleo, however, walks up to me, wearing the sexiest outfit I’ve seen her in. She’s got on a skintight skirt and skintight tank with some of the highest fuckin’ heels I’ve ever seen.

  I spit on the ground as I place my hands on my hips as I watch her walk up to me.

  “You said you’d be here on time,” I point out.

  “I had to work late,” she shrugs.

  “Bullshit. You stayed late on purpose. For whatever fuckin’ reason, you don’t want to be part of my life and the club. It’s a wedding, Clee, not a fuckin’ orgy. Why weren’t you here?” I growl.

  “I have a job; and honestly, I’m so mixed up and confused about us—about what we are. I wasn’t sure I was going to come back at all,” she says shifting from one foot to the other. Lying her cute as fuck ass off.

  Cleo turns to walk away from me, and I narrow my eyes on her for a moment, spitting on the ground one more time before I stop her. It only takes me a couple of steps to reach her. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I stop her, pulling her back toward me before I spin her around. Her hands fly up to my chest as she tries to push me away, but I don’t let her.

  Leaning down, I shove my shoulder in her belly before I pick her up, hoisting her over my shoulder. She kicks and punches my back for a couple of minutes before I’ve had enough of her squirming body, and I slap her plump ass, hard.

  “Shut the fuck up,” I growl.

  I take her to the
closest secluded place I can get to, the warehouse, and walk inside. I don’t bother with the lights. I can see enough through the one window we have from the party in the distance. Setting her down, I don’t let her move an inch before I push her back against the wall, the entire length of my body pushing against her trembling one. I then spin her around to face the wall.

  “Paxton,” she whimpers.

  “There’s more. Fucking tell me,” I grind out.

  “I don’t want to go in there looking like your whore,” she shouts.

  Turning her around, I grab the hem of her skirt and wrench it up over her ass and hips before I tug her panties down. Her body shakes as I slide my hands up the backs of her thighs and grab two handfuls of her ass, leaning down to whisper into her ear as I yank her hips back.

  “You’re far from my whore, Clee. You’re mine. Even if you walked away today, you would still want me, and you’d still wait for me to come and get you. This shit between us, it doesn’t just go away,” I murmur against her ear. I drop my pants and shove my underwear down to free my cock.

  “You’re such an asshole,” she moans as I move my hand around to cup her tit, giving it a rough squeeze. I let out a moan of my own as I let my cock slide against the folds of her pussy, finding her wet for me.

  “You like riling me up, don’t you, sweetheart?” I whisper as I align my dick with her wet cunt.

  “Don’t be an asshole,” she grinds out.

  “Tell me you want me,” I rasp as my hand moves from her tit to wrap around her throat.

  “I don’t know you,” she whispers. I know that her eyes are probably swimming with unshed tears.

  “You know me, Cleo. You’ve always known me. Deep down, you see me,” I whisper as I fill her full of my cock.

  “Pax,” she whimpers. I yank her neck back, squeezing her slender throat as I thrust up and inside of her tight cunt.

  “You aren’t pushing me away, Cleo. You aren’t taking all of you away from me; not when I’m ready, not when I’m finally fucking ready for you,” I roar as I fuck her.