“Sugar, let him enjoy his honeymoon,” he rasps against my neck.
I turn my head slightly. “He’s in deep shit when he gets home.”
Tinker chuckles and takes a step back, flopping down on my sofa. I cringe every time he does that, imagining my cushions breaking down, and my sofa being ruined. I love my teal couch, it’s a soft microfiber type of material, and it’s girlie without being over the top. I would cry if his big ass ruined it.
“Can you sit down… not like that,” I mention, dropping my phone on the counter and making my way over to him.
I start to lower down next to him, but he grabs my waist and guides me over to his lap. “How’d I sit?” he asks as his hand begins to rub the side of my leg. I whimper as his fingers dance beneath my shirt and make their way up to my bra.
“You flopped,” I breathe.
My breasts are so sensitive, he knows this which is why he begins to gently play with them. He tugs the cup of my bra down. He ever so slightly caresses everywhere but my nipple, causing me to crave him even more.
“Dustin,” I whisper.
“Love it when you say my name, sugar,” he mutters as his lips suck on my neck. “I’ll try not to land heavy on the sofa, again.” He pinches my nipple with his last word. I yelp, before goosebumps breakout over my skin.
I’m unable to control myself, I need him, or need something. I slip my hand down my leggings and start to slide my fingers through my folds.
He groans, “Fuck.”
He stands but doesn’t let me fall to the ground. He sets me down on the cushion, yanking my leggings completely off. “I’m watching you get yourself off, Riley,” he groans as he removes his own jeans and sits on the edge of the coffee table.
He wraps his hand around his hard cock, and I can’t help but lick my lips. I want to suck him, I want him inside of me, dammit—I want him everywhere. I wrench my shirt off, tossing it behind me before I unhook my bra and drag it down my arms.
Spreading my legs wide, I prop my feet on the edge of the couch and I start to touch myself. My eyes stay connected to the way Dustin strokes his thick cock. He squeezes the head then strokes again, and I moan. Slipping my fingers inside, feeling how wet I am, I start to pump in and out of myself.
“That’s it, sugar. Play with your tits too, fuck, you look so damn hot right now,” he groans.
I do as he asks. I fuck my pussy with my fingers, then with my other hand, I pinch and tug on my nipples, moving from one breast to the other. It feels so dirty, and yet, it feels so right. Everything I do with Tinker, my Dustin, feels right.
I’m on the edge of my climax, so close that I can practically taste it as it starts to roll through me. My hand is suddenly, ripped from between my legs, and I let out a cry.
“Fuck that, you only come with me,” he growls, filling me with his cock in one swift move.
His knees are resting on the edge of the couch, and he places his hands on the back as he pounds into me. He doesn’t speak, his head tipped down as he watches his cock disappear inside of me, over and over again.
Dustin’s tongue peeks out with his concentration, it’s sexy as shit, and I can’t keep my eyes off of him. That is until my orgasm rolls through me without warning.
“Oh fuck, yes, don’t stop. Fuck me, Dustin,” I practically scream. His hips pump harder, and faster, erratically. Then he stills with a moan and I feel his dick twitch inside of me.
“I love you, sugar,” he murmurs.
I blink. Unbelieving that he’s said it, that he’s said it after he’s come, and he’s still inside of me.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Get the fuck off of me,” I scream.
He stands and takes a step back, having the fucking nerve to look confused. “Riley?”
“You’re such a fucking dick,” I scream irrationally.
I hurry out of the room, into our bedroom and slam the door, locking it. Then I rush over to the closet grabbing my robe, covering myself up before I make my way toward the bed and sit down. I don’t know what to do, what to say to him.
I’ve loved this asshole for years, and that’s how he decides to tell me he loves me, too?
What a fucking asshole.
I stand in disbelief, naked, in the middle of the living room. What the fuck just happened here? One minute I’m buried deep inside of my wife, and the next she’s pissed off and locking herself in our bedroom. Then my blood begins to boil in anger. I grab my jeans, quickly pulling them up my legs. Marching toward our bedroom, I try to open it, but it’s locked.
Fuck that.
I’m not going to be locked out of my own goddamn room. “Open the fucking door, Riley,” I shout, banging on the wood.
“Go away,” her muffled voice calls. She sounds like she’s crying, but my patience is nil. Lifting my leg, I kick the shitty door and watch as it breaks open.
Riley is sitting on the edge of the bed, her robe wrapped around her. She looks up at me, her eyes red-rimmed and watery.
“The next time you think about locking a door between us, you better fucking think twice,” I grunt.
I can’t stay here, I’ll do, or say, something that I’ll regret. I don’t know what her fucking problem is, but I’m not going to try and guess either. She can act like an adult and tell me. Turning my back on her, I walk away.
Grabbing my socks and boots from the floor, then slipping my cut on. I snatch my keys from the counter and slam the front door behind me. I hurry down the stairs barefoot until I reach my bike then quickly slide my boots on.
Once I’ve straddled my motorcycle, I look up toward our apartment, shaking my head. She isn’t there. She didn’t come after me. I told her that I loved her, and she got pissed and ran off.
Starting my engine, I rev it once before I speed out of the parking lot. I need some fucking booze. I need my brothers. What I don’t need is some overly emotional cunt, who can’t decide how she goddamn feels about me.
It doesn’t take long for the clubhouse to come into view. I feel a bit guilty for leaving Riley alone at home, but I couldn’t stay there. She needs to learn how to fucking communicate with me.
I’ve been available to her. I’ve been present, home every night and shit. She still doesn’t fucking talk to me, and tonight just proves that she’s got a fucking problem.
I can’t read her fucking mind.
Walking inside I notice that the clubhouse is pretty low-key tonight. There are a couple whores walking around, but not much else is going on. Making my way up to the bar, I ask for a bottle of vodka. The prospect hands it to me.
Once it’s in my grasp, I head toward one of the sofas that’s pushed up against the wall. I flop down on the cushions, purposely, in defiance. It doesn’t matter that Riley can’t see me, it makes me feel a little bit better.
Nobody bothers me as I scowl in the corner and drink. The night wanes on and I find myself getting drunker and drunker. The room is a little fuzzy when I see Pixie approach me. She’s only wearing a tiny little G-string, her tits on full display.
My cock should at least jerk at the sight of her, but it doesn’t. It’s flaccid, and as much as I want to blame it on the booze, I can’t. I know that it’s all because of Riley.
This has been an ongoing thing for almost a year. Riley is the only one my dick wants. The fucker of it all is that I don’t even mind. My heart wants only her too—even when she’s being a fucking crazy bitch.
“I’ve missed you,” Pixie whispers as she moves in and nuzzles her face against my neck.
I sit stock still, my hazy brain unable to communicate to the rest of me that I need to push this bitch off. Her hand presses against my bare chest and then slides all the way down to my crotch.
She cups my junk and sighs. “Looks like I have my work cut out for me tonight. But I know once this whiskey dick is up, it’ll last all night long.”
Her hand starts to unbutton my pants, and I finally get my ass in gear. I wrap my fingers around her wrist to halt her
movements. My head slowly dips down to look at her face. “No,” I slur.
“Baby, I’ve missed this cock of yours. You can’t tell me no. Not when you’re here drinking alone. She’s nowhere around. You need this as much as I do,” she whispers.
I lean forward, my voice low and lethal. “Bitch, you try to touch my dick again, and I’m going to knock your fuckin’ ass out.”
Pixie’s head jerks back and then I watch as she falls to the ground. My unfocused eyes slowly look up and I’m surprised to see Riley standing in front of me. Her hand has a fistful of Pixie’s hair, but her eyes are directed at me and she is fucking pissed.
“Grease called, told me to come get your drunk ass and take you home,” she states. Her voice is flat, but I can tell she’s upset.
I watch as she releases Pixie’s hair. “You fucking bitch,” Pixie squeals.
“If you don’t get your whore ass outta here, I’ll give you something to scream about,” I grunt.
Pixie scrambles to her feet, and thankfully, she disappears. Riley smirks and shakes her head. “Had I not heard you tell her to leave, I may have taken that little scene you two had going on, the wrong way,” she whispers.
I don’t try to stand, I honestly don’t think that I could even if I wanted to. Reaching for Riley, I wrap my fingers around her wrist and tug her between my legs, then down to my thigh. Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her closer to my chest.
“Why’re you so fuckin’ pissed?” I slur.
Her eyes and chin lower. I wait her out though. I’m fuckin’ patient now that I have vodka flowing through my bloodstream.
“I’ve loved you for so long,” she whispers. “Then you finally said it, and it was in the middle of sex,” she says wrinkling her nose and finally looking up at me.
I wrap my hand around the back of her neck, and tug her forward so that her forehead is pressed against my own. “I love you, Riley,” I mutter.
“And now you’re drunk,” she sighs.
Frustration fills me. I move her to the side, depositing her to the couch and I stand. My legs feel like Jell-O, and I know that I sway. “I don’t know what the fuck you want from me, woman. Honest to fuck, I have no goddamn idea. When you figure it out, come find me.”
I walk away from her. I don’t go to my room but instead make my way outside. I need the cool air to cool me the fuck off. I’m pissed. I don’t know what she wants. Whatever it is, I’m willing to give it to her. She just has to fucking tell me.
My stomach turns more with each passing mile we drive toward home. Bailey seems pretty unaffected. He taps his finger on the steering wheel while his other hand is wrapped around my thigh. My palms start to sweat as the city limit sign approaches.
I have no clue what my dad is going to say or do. I’m worried that he’ll be angry, but more importantly, I’m worried that he’ll be disappointed in me.
“You’re thinking pretty loud over there,” Bailey murmurs, giving my thigh a gentle squeeze.
I shake my head and look out the window. “I’m worried about what my parents are going to say. What your parents are going to say,” I whisper.
“They can say whatever they want, Blue Eyes. What’s done is done, nothing can change the fact that you’re my wife or that my baby is inside of you,” he mutters.
I let out a sigh. He doesn’t get it. Maybe because he has this new career on the horizon, and he has training in a few days. But I’ll still be here, and if they’re pissed at me, if they’re disappointed in me—I’ll have to look them in the eyes and see that. He won’t.
My phone vibrates in my hand and I look down to see there’s a text from Riley.
RILEY: We’re at Mom and Dad’s. Everybody is. Come here first.
Okay. We’re about twenty minutes out. I reply. Then I inform Bailey who only gives me a nod with a grunt.
I wring my fingers together and try to stay calm, but I fail. I’m so damn nervous that I’m practically vibrating in my seat. Bailey pulls up in front of his parents’ house about fifteen minutes later, but he doesn’t open the car door. Instead, he turns to me and cups my cheek, forcing my face to turn toward his.
“I love you, Rosalie Duhart,” he whispers.
I suck in a deep breath. “I love you too.”
“Now, let’s go get this shit over with. I’m sure they’re ready to scream and yell. They can get it out of their system, but after today, I won’t allow it anymore.”
I snort at his words. “You won’t allow it? You’ve met our fathers, haven’t you?”
Bailey’s fingers grip my cheek and he shakes his head. “Blue Eyes, you’re a married woman now. I’m a man. We’re adults, and they don’t get to yell at us anymore like children. I’m giving them today only, then I’m putting my foot down,” he grunts.
I almost laugh at him, but I don’t. He’s so strong in his words. I want to believe him and I want to think the best of our fathers, that they’ll understand where we’re coming from. However, I just don’t. I think that they’re going to have a really hard time with this—with us.
Bailey exits the vehicle, then comes to my side and helps me out. He places his warm palm on the small of my back, and together we walk toward the front door. We don’t even get halfway up the walk when the door flies open. Riley is standing there, but she isn’t giving me her normal smile. Her eyes look sunken in, almost haunted.
“Are you all right?” I ask when we’re closer.
She smiles, and if I didn’t know her I would think it was genuine. However, I do know her so I know that it certainly is not. “I’m fine, just tired. Now, fair warning. The dads are pissed, but not as pissed as the moms,” she announces.
“Why’re they pissed?” Bailey grumbles.
Riley snorts. “They said they’ve been waiting to plan your wedding.” She opens the door a bit wider and we walk past her. Bailey laughs as we step inside of the house.
“No way in fuck are they planning a wedding,” he mutters.
“And why the hell not?” Mary-Anne shouts. She’s standing in the living room, and she must have the best hearing on earth because I barely heard him and I’m standing next to him.
Bailey lifts his hand and rubs at the back of his neck. “Because I didn’t want to wait a year or two, and anyway, we don’t have that kind of time now so it doesn’t matter.”
Mary-Anne narrows her eyes at him and lifts her chin. Bailey guides me into the living room. The whole family is here, including my little brothers. We sit down on the only unoccupied furniture, a loveseat and look around.
“Well, what do you have to say for yourselves?” MadDog asks, his voice rumbling through the space.
I look down at my hands, specifically my small rose gold band. A bit of peace washes over me. No matter what, I’m married to the man I love. That is what’s important, that and our child.
“I don’t know why you all are surprised,” Bailey begins. I hear my dad growl from across the room. “I’ve been in love with Rosalie since I was a kid. We’ve been in love with each other since we were kids. I’m going to be stationed somewhere else, it could be across the country, hell, it could be anywhere. Did you all think that I would leave without taking Rosalie with me?”
I’m surprised by the way he’s talking not only to his father but to mine as well. He’s not wrong though. We’ve been in love since we were children, none of this should come as a surprise to any of them.
“Well, big man, what are your plans now?” my dad asks, narrowing his eyes at Bailey.
Bailey clears his throat, and I glance over at him. He’s looking between our fathers and then he finally speaks. “I have eight more weeks of training before I’m sent to school. Rosalie can’t go with me. I’ll be living in the barracks. I would like for her to stay here during those eight weeks. Her doctor is here and our families are here.”
I glance up at my mom as she wipes a tear, from beneath her eyes. “I don’t want you to leave, not even in eight weeks,” she whispers.
&nbs
p; “Mom.”
Mary-Anne straightens and brushes her palms on her thighs. “Now, we’re all emotional. I don’t want my baby to leave, you guys don’t want yours to leave, and none of us wants our grandbaby to leave,” she states. “Unfortunately, we don’t always get what we want. What’s done is done. I say we celebrate the new life and the new marriage.”
My face breaks out into a smile. I love Mary-Anne, I always have. She doesn’t have a problem saying the way shit is, but then, she’s just so positive sometimes it’s ridiculously amazing. Bailey slips his arm around my shoulder and gives me a squeeze.
“I want to kill the little fuck still,” my dad announces. My body tenses but then he continues. “But I can’t say that I’m surprised it happened the way it all did,” he sighs.
I stand up and hurry toward my dad, he rises as well and wraps me in his arms. “I love you, Dad,” I whisper as I bury my face in his chest.
“Fuck, I love you too, sweetie. I could throttle you for getting knocked up, but I fuckin’ love you.”
Mary-Anne announces that it’s time to eat and celebrate. Nobody makes a sound of protest. Once I break free from my father, Bailey is at my side. He presses his lips to my temple before asking my dad if he can talk to him outside.
I watch as the two most important men in my life head outside toward the backyard. My mom and Mary-Anne have already disappeared into the kitchen, my brothers have taken off as well. I turn around to see Finley and Riley sitting on the sofa.
“Tell us everything,” Finley practically squeals.
I glance at Riley and I want to talk to her about whatever is bothering her. She looks so closed off that I decide to tell them about my wedding and our one day honeymoon, instead.
The entire time I talk to them, I keep my eyes on Riley. She’s smiling where she’s supposed to and laughing when it’s required, but none of her expressions or reactions reach her eyes. There is something seriously wrong with her.
Rough & Real Page 30