Rough & Real

by Hayley Faiman

  “You wanted to talk, so talk,” Camo mutters as soon as we’re outside.

  I clear my throat and shove my hands in my pockets. “I didn’t mean to get her pregnant. It just happened. I wouldn’t have planned it, not in a million years. I’m not sorry though,” I state.

  For whatever reason, I can’t look at him. Maybe I don’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes or his anger. He doesn’t know that I never pushed Rosalie to have sex. That I waited five years to make her mine. He has no clue, and I’m not going to explain it to him, that is our journey and has nothing to do with her father.

  “If you were in the club, I could beat the shit out of you, and nobody would say a goddamn word,” he grunts. “But you’re not and you did right by marrying her. No matter how angry I am, you behaved like a responsible man in the situation. I appreciate that,” he exhales. “I don’t want her to leave, not ever, but I know she’s eighteen and I can’t stop her. I just want you to know that if you fuck up, I’ll kill you.”

  I don’t laugh because Camo isn’t joking. He would kill me, without thinking twice about it. Then my dad would probably kill him, and it would turn into some really nasty shit. I don’t plan on ever hurting Rosalie, so it’s kind of a moot point.

  “Not planning on hurting her, Camo,” I murmur.

  He wraps his hand around my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. I turn my head to look up at him. He isn’t smiling, but there’s a peace that kind of comes over him it seems. “I was pissed the other day. When everything came out, I was fucking livid. You did the right thing by taking her and leaving. I wasn’t thinking. I had turned a blind eye to what you two had going. Thought it would just go away, that you would find someone else, or she would. It’s hard to accept that your baby is growin’ up. You’ll understand one day.”

  I open my mouth to respond when I hear Riley scream from inside of the house. “Fuck you, you fucking asshole.”

  “Oh shit,” I whisper.

  Camo grunts, “Those two have been at it since the day they said, ‘I do,’ not sure how long that shit’s gonna last.”

  I groan in response. I still don’t understand how they ended up married, other than my dad forced Tinker to marry her because he knocked her up. They weren’t in a relationship as far as I knew. I thought they were just fuck buddies, now I don’t know.

  Camo and I walk back inside. I’m not sure I want to see Tinker and my sister interact. I may have to intervene, and I’ve always liked Tinker, so that would fucking suck.

  The doorbell rings, and my eyes widen. Every person in our family is in this room, except for one—my own husband. “Riles, do you want me to get that? Maybe have Hacker grab it?” Finley asks as her eyes flick from the door, then back to me.

  I shake my head.

  I haven’t seen him since he deposited me on my ass last night in the clubhouse, and walked out. He was so angry, and I was so hurt. I don’t know how to make us work, how to make us better. I keep screwing it up. Standing from my place on the couch, I suck in a breath, and slowly walk toward the front door.

  Tinker is on the other side when I pull it open. He sways, and I know he’s drunk, or most likely still drunk. He takes a step toward me and wraps his hand in my hair pulling me against him. His lips crash against mine in a bruising kiss. I push against his chest to no avail, but when he lifts his head, I can see the hurt and anger swimming in his eyes.

  “This doesn’t work. I’m fucking done,” he mutters taking a step back. He grabs onto the wooden railing to steady himself.

  I blink once. “You’re done?” I whisper.

  “You’re too fucking hard. I’m done. I’ll pay child support for the kid, but we’re done.”

  My eyes widen and my body begins to tremble. “Dustin, you can’t mean that.”

  He shakes his head. “Sugar. You’re too much fucking work. Before we were married, it was fun. We fucked, and you were great, but your pussy ain’t worth all this other shit.”

  Heat rises throughout my body, anger fills me and I reach out, slapping him across the face. “Fuck you, you fucking asshole,” I scream.

  He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t say a fucking word, in fact, he turns his back on me and he walks away. He is a fucking asshole.

  “Riley what the hell?” my dad’s voice booms.

  I turn around to face him, tears streaming down my face. “He left me,” I whisper.

  “The fuck he did,” my dad states, taking a step forward.

  I hold my hand up to stop him from going after Tinker and shake my head. “I don’t want him to feel forced,” I whisper.

  “You’re moving back in here,” my dad announces.

  “Dad?”

  He shakes his head and runs his hand down his face. “You’re havin’ a baby. I didn’t like you livin’ in those apartments alone before, now I won’t allow it. You’ll move back in here and we’ll help you.”

  I don’t know why he’s offering, and I don’t care. I accept. Rushing over to my dad, I bury my face in his chest and I inhale his familiar scent. He may be a grumpy old ass, but he’s my grumpy old ass, he’s my dad.

  “It’s gonna be okay,” he whispers and places a kiss on my head. “No matter what, it’ll be okay Riley.”

  The rest of the evening is kind of subdued, and I’m glad for it. I stay pretty far removed from everyone else, lost inside of my own head. I should have gone to him last night or this morning. I should have made everything right. I shouldn’t have been so upset with the way he told me loved me, and just accepted the fact that he does.

  I fucked everything up.

  “Go upstairs and sleep in your old room tonight, honey,” my mom murmurs as she runs her fingers through my hair.

  “I should go home, pack some stuff. I’ll sleep here starting tomorrow.”

  My mom gives me a sad smile and shakes her head once. “You know it’s all going to work out. Whatever is meant to be, it will happen the way it does for a reason. Even if you can’t understand that right away.”

  I nod in agreement. She’s right and I know that she is, but that doesn’t take away the ache I have inside of me. I’ve loved Tinker, my Dustin, for far longer than I’ve ever let on. This is killing me inside. I need one night alone to grieve before I’m surrounded by my family on a twenty-four-seven basis.

  Quietly, I slip out of the house. Bailey and Rosalie are still there, but her parents have left and so has Finley and Hacker. I don’t want the conversation to turn to me, for anything, so I know that I need to leave.

  Once I’m in my car, I head toward my apartment. Just thinking about the broken bedroom door, and the questions that my father will bring up once he sees it, makes my stomach ache. Stopping at the red light, I press my hand to my belly and let out an exhale. I need to calm down. This anxiety inside of me, this stress, cannot be good for the baby—at all.

  I continue toward my apartment building and park in my designated spot. I look to the side, hoping to see Tinker’s bike, but it isn’t there. I let out a sigh and exit the vehicle. I hate coming home late at night. No matter how safe I know that I am, I can’t help but feel scared. My apartment complex is one of those where most people who live here, work full-time so it’s always shut down and eerily quiet early in the evening.

  Hurrying up the stairs, and then unlocking my door quickly I slip inside, flipping the lock closed with a heavy breath. I’m being silly. I know that I am. Throwing my purse down on the sofa, I glance in the direction of my pretty couch and cringe. I don’t want the pretty sofa anymore. I decide immediately that I’m going to sell it on Craigslist or something. I don’t really ever want to see it again.

  I pass by the broken door in the hallway, that’s leaning against the wall. My fingers skim the splintered wood and my gaze drops. I fucked it all up. I had him in my grasp and I messed us up. I hate that—absolutely hate it.

  Taking a quick shower, I cry as I dry off. I don’t bother changing into pajamas. I just don’t care enough right now. Slipping
between my sheets, I pull my comforter over my head and bury my face in the pillow. Everything smells like Dustin. It makes my heart ache that much more. I cry myself to sleep, swimming in my own misery.

  When the booze finally wears off enough that I’m not a danger to kill anybody on the road, I make my way toward my bike. Earlier, I had Blinder drive me over to MadDog’s to talk to Riley, or rather, tell her that we were done.

  I’m a fucking liar.

  The second I turned away from her, I felt it in my gut that it was a mistake. Now that I’m a little more sober, a little more aware, I want my woman.

  I don’t know what the future holds for us, but I do know that I can’t just leave her like that. I wasn’t nice, the things I said weren’t nice. I don’t blame her for screaming at me and being pissed. I would be mad at me too.

  It’s well past midnight when I park my bike and make my way up the staircase that leads to her door. I shove my key in the lock and turn it, quietly slipping inside, locking the front door behind me when I do. The apartment is completely silent as I walk toward the bedroom. I know that she’s probably asleep, her car is in the parking lot, so I’m certain that she’s here.

  When I walk into our bedroom, I see her small body curled into a ball beneath the sheets. Her dark hair pokes out from the top and I smirk.

  I divest myself of my clothes and boots, slowly creeping toward her sleeping form. Gently I grab ahold of the bedding and drag it down her body. My eyes widen when I realize that she’s completely naked.

  Sliding my fingertips up the outside of her thigh, I gently wrap them around her hip and guide her to her back. She rolls over with a groan, which I emulate at the sight of her bare pussy in front of me. Leaning forward, I slide my tongue through her folds, tasting her sweet cunt. On the second glide of my tongue her body jerks, and that’s when I know she’s awake.

  “Tinker?” she whispers as one of her hands slides through my hair.

  I lift my eyes to look up at her, only moving my mouth from her pussy enough to speak. “No talking right now,” I mutter.

  She nods as if she understands my meaning. I don’t know that she does, but I’ll explain it to her in a little bit. Right now, I just want her to feel good, I want to make her come. I want to enjoy her body. I do just that, too.

  I watch her sleep. We only have a couple days left together, and then I have to leave to Oceanside for eight-weeks of training at Camp Pendleton. She’s going to look so different by the next time I see her. I can’t wait. Her belly will be fuller, rounder, and maybe I’ll be able to feel our baby move inside of her by then.

  Our journey has just begun and I’m excited to finally start on it with her.

  “You’re staring at me,” she murmurs, keeping her eyes closed.

  I smile and reach forward, touching her nose with the tip of my finger. I rented a vacation cabin for us in town, feeling the need to spend the next few days completely alone with her. “You’re beautiful. I’m trying to imagine what you’re going to look like in eight-weeks,” I admit.

  “I’m going to be a giant fat-ass, is what I’m going to be,” she grumbles.

  I push her onto her back, placing my elbows on each side of her head and fitting my hips between her thighs. Gliding my cock through her folds, I moan when I discover that she’s already wet. Her hips shift and she rolls beneath me, meeting my strokes.

  “Keep doing that and I’m going to blow my load before I’m even inside of you,” I groan.

  She giggles before my cock hits her clit, then she lets out a moan of her own. On my next stroke, I gently slide inside of her. Filling her to the hilt.

  “Bailey,” she gasps when she’s full of me.

  “I love you, Blue Eyes,” I whisper as I slowly pull almost completely out of her, then fill her again. “You’re not going to be fat, you’re going to be fucking perfect—just like you always are.”

  I grind my pelvis against her clit on my down stroke, and enjoy the little noises she makes each time I do. I don’t know how I’m going to survive eight more weeks without her, twelve almost killed me. Now that she’s officially my wife and carrying my baby? I don’t know how I’m going to make it.

  Her hands wrap around my biceps and she meets my strokes as her mouth opens in an adorable O shape. Lowering my head, I bury my face in her neck and lose myself in her body. I can feel her pussy flutter around me as her hips jerk beneath me. I know that she’s close, and I’m on the edge of losing my own shit. Inhaling her scent as I drive into her body is not helping but there’s no way in fuck I can stop now.

  “Oh yes,” Rosalie hisses beneath me.

  I moan as her pussy clamps down around my cock. She’s so fucking tight that I swear to Christ she’s going to strangle me. It only takes one more pump inside of her body to climax. I let out a growl against her skin as I come. I want to stay buried inside of her for the entire day, but the muscles in my arms are shaking and I can’t let myself rest against her body. Reluctantly, I pull out of her and roll to the side.

  “Next time you’re on top,” I state.

  Rosalie rolls to her side and presses her soft body against mine. Her breathing is labored as she rests her head on my chest. Running my fingers through her soft hair, I just enjoy her naked body against mine.

  “Do you have to go?” she whispers a few minutes later.

  I gently tug on the strands of her hair, tilting her head back. “I do, Blue Eyes. Know that it kills me though. The last thing I want to do is leave you,” I truthfully confess.

  She shakes her hair from my grasp, and crawls on top of me, straddling me with her thighs. I can feel her wet pussy against my cock, and I’m unable to suppress my groan. I know it’s my cum leaking from her center and it makes me feel wild, possessive, and irrational. I want to fill her up again. I want her to always be full of my cock or my cum—always.

  I grip her hips in my hands and hold her still. My cock is growing hard, and I’m sure she’s sore. I haven’t given her pussy much of a break since our wedding day.

  “Bailey,” she whimpers. Lifting my eyes from our connection I look up at her. “I need you,” she whispers.

  Rosalie lifts up slightly, and I align my cock with her entrance, groaning as her wet heat sinks down slowly around me.

  “I just want you inside of me. You feel so good,” she murmurs.

  I slide one of my hands up the center of her body and over to cup her breast. The other hand I keep around her hip. “Take whatever you want, Blue Eyes, any way you want it,” I grunt. She could stay just like this forever and I wouldn’t mind in the slightest.

  We don’t say anything else. Our words lost as we enjoy each other’s bodies. Rosalie fucks me so slowly that I feel like I’m going to snap and lose my shit. Everything inside of me screams to flip her over, onto her back, and pound into her pussy until I’m roaring with my release. I don’t do that, though. I allow her to have complete control.

  I watch as she enjoys my cock, enjoys the way I make her feel as I run my hands all over her body. When I can’t handle anymore of her torture, I slide my hand from her hip to her pussy. Pressing my thumb against her clit, I begin to rub in firm circles. It doesn’t take her long to move faster, and grind against me harder before she lets out a cry, and drops her head back.

  Her pussy contracts and I finally let go, filling her again with my release. Rosalie collapses down against my chest with heavy breaths. Her lips skim my neck, and my arms wrap around her, holding her to me tightly. “Eight weeks will feel like an eternity,” I whisper against the side of her head.

  “I know,” she admits.

  We stay like that, my cock softening inside of her, but we’re both unwilling to move a muscle. I’m enjoying having her close against me and I imagine she’s feeling much of the same way.

  I chance opening my eyes, wondering if last night was a dream. Did Tinker really come home, and make love to me? It was lovely, he’s never been so gentle with me before, and it has me wondering if that was
his way of saying goodbye?

  Turning to the side, I spy him asleep on his stomach. Fuck, why does he have to be so damn sexy? I don’t know if it’s just my pregnancy hormones, but I doubt it since I’ve always thought he was sexy as shit.

  I want him again, and if he really says we’re over, I don’t know how I’m going to be able to cope with that. I’ll have to move to a different state. Maybe I’ll move to Idaho, where my half-brother and his family lives.

  I yelp when I feel his hand rest on my bare stomach. “Sugar, you’re too fucking loud. I can’t sleep,” he rasps. His eyes are closed and his expression hasn’t changed in the slightest. I didn’t even know he was awake, the sneaky bastard. “You’re thinking. Don’t over analyze shit. It gets us in trouble,” he mutters.

  Sighing, I roll to my side, his hand goes with me and is now resting heavily on my hip. “Was last night your goodbye to me?” I blurt.

  Tinker’s eyes pop open and I watch as he frowns. “Did you want it to be?” he asks, clearly confused.

  I shake my head, almost violently. “Never,” I admit.

  “I love you, Riley,” he whispers. “You’re mine. My woman. No matter what, I won’t let you go,” he grunts.

  Tears well in my eyes at his words. Now that, that, is how you tell a girl you love her. “Are we good?” I mutter through trembling lips.

  His hand moves up my side and cups my cheek, his eyes never leaving mine. “I don’t know, sugar, are we?”

  I suck in a breath, thinking about his question. “You can’t threaten to leave me again,” I state, sounding stronger than I feel. “You can’t drink like that, or fuck around on me.”

  He chuckles, reaching out, dragging me over his body so that I’m lying against his chest. My breasts are smashed against him, and he’s so warm that I want to rub myself against him.

  “Some things you need to do, too, sugar,” he grunts as his nose glides alongside mine. My breath hitches, and I know I’m growing wet just from this simple touch. “You can’t go crazy on me. I won’t say shit you always like. I’m not a romantic guy, I’m rough, and this thing we got, it’s a fuckin’ risk, but it’s ours. You can’t assume the worst of me because, sugar, that shit could get you, and us, in trouble.”