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Rough & Raw (Notorious Devils Book 2)

Page 7

by Hayley Faiman


  I also don’t want to think about Bates working down at that strip club almost every single night. I know that there has to be freebies that come along with the views of naked women night after night.

  I know he’s been with a lot of women; he has to have been. A member of the Notorious Devils and the manager of a strip club, no way is he not getting ass every other night of the week. I couldn’t keep him in my bed for long; and if I did, no way would he be one hundred percent faithful to me. No matter how much he thinks he loves me, no man could keep his dick in his pants with pussy laid out in front of him every night like that.

  I shake the thoughts of Bates and women out of my head as I smooth down my tight tank top. It’s red and scooped so low in front, you can see the lace of my push-up bra peeking out of the top. My shorts are tight and hit just below my ass cheeks; and my shoes, extremely high heels that I borrowed from Kentlee’s cocktail waitress days. I leave my hair long and straight down my back, my make-up dark and heavy. If I’m going to work in a biker bar, I need to look the part.

  I hear voices as I open the bedroom door before I slide my coat on. I don’t know this Tammy woman too well, but I don’t want to give her a heart attack in my skanky outfit, so I try to cover up as much as possible. Kentlee has told me a ton about her. She trusts her implicitly, and from the meeting I had with her, I can tell she’s a nice woman.

  “Stella usually goes to bed around eight. She has already had dinner, but if she wants a small snack she can have something and a cup of milk…” I hear Bates’ instructions float through the house and it makes my breath hitch.

  He already knows our routines. He helps tuck Stella into bed every night before he goes to the Devils Club, and he’s home each morning when she wakes up. He’ll be an amazing father to his children one day. I wish that they were children we would share, but that won’t ever happen.

  “Hello, Brentlee, darling,” Tammy says as I walk into the room. I smile shyly, extremely uncomfortable in my outfit.

  “I don’t have a phone…” I start. I stop when Bates holds out his hand and my eyes go to a brand new iPhone resting in his palm.

  “Bates,” I murmur. He shakes his head.

  “You need a phone, if for nothing other than you and Tammy to be able to stay in contact when you’re working.”

  I look at him in surprise, but quietly take the phone from him. It’s slim and sleek, but in a floral hard case, making it feminine and … me. Bates informs me that he’s written my number down for Tammy already.

  I thank her for all of her help and give her my own instructions before I give Stella hers, along with a big hug and a kiss goodnight.

  I feel a pang in my heart as soon as the front door closes behind me. Bates wraps his hand around my waist from behind and lowers his head so that his lips brush my neck with every word he speaks.

  “She’ll be fine, babe. I got a man on the house, she’s safe,” he says.

  “A man? Where?” I ask as I look around in surprise.

  “He won’t go anywhere near the house unless there’s danger. He’s here, watching our girl, keeping her safe,” he murmurs. I want to melt into a pile of goo at his feet. Sweet heavens, the man is too hot. Our girl. Dammit, I want him.

  I pull away from him and unsteadily walk toward his beat up pickup truck without saying a word. I’m not mad at him, not really, I’m angry at myself. Why can’t I turn off those feelings for him? Why, after ten years, do I still shake when he’s near me? Why does my pussy clench and my legs want to spread at the sight of him? Fuck, I’m never going to be able to move past him.

  A voice inside of me tells me I’m stupid, that having feelings for him, allowing myself to be controlled by him would mean repeating bad mistakes from the past—but that voice can shove it up her ass. That voice doesn’t remember what having Bates and then losing him felt like. I can’t go through it again. I would just rather not have him at all.

  “Tonight will probably be tame,” Bates says as we drive toward the clubhouse. “No big parties, just a regular Thursday night. I won’t be here, so if anybody says or does anything to make you feel uncomfortable, just call me or Fury and we’ll be right down.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I say, staring out the window.

  “I don’t think you realize what these guys are like,” he says. For some reason, I am overcome with anger.

  “Are they guys that like to fuck anything with a pussy, mouth, or ass?” I ask. The truck swerves to the side of the road and Bates slams on his breaks.

  “Brentlee,” he says, his tone harsh and sharp.

  “I know what kind of men they are, Bates, because they’re like every man. They want to fuck and be fucked hard. They want to come, and drink, and have a good time without some bitch nagging at them. It’s fine. Don’t worry about me. I’ve probably seen and done everything they could do. I’m not worried, so neither should you be,” I announce before I turn my head to face the window again.

  This is over between us. Whatever crush he has on me needs to end. I need to make sure it’s decimated.

  “Look at me,” his voice is low and deep, rumbling throughout the cab of the truck. I refuse his request. I can’t look at him. He’s too handsome.

  I feel his fingers wrap in the back of my hair, and then they tighten before he forces my neck to turn my head toward him. It burns. It fucking hurts. He’s never been this rough with me before in my life. I choke back the tears and try to keep my spine straight and my body taught, ready for whatever is to come next.

  “Whatever the fuck you’re thinkin’, fuckin’ stop that shit right now. I’ve given you days to pull away from me since Boise. You’ve had your time to stew and come up with stupid shit in your head. Stupid shit that ain’t gonna work. You’re mine, Brentlee. Every single one of those fuckers knows you’re mine. You try anything fuckin’ dumb, and they’ll all rat your ass out,” he announces. I should be scared. The haunted look in his eyes should terrify me, but for whatever reason, it doesn’t.

  “I’ll do whatever I want, Bates. I’m tired of being told what to do,” I breathe.

  “I’ll spank your ass, Brentlee. I’ll spank that perfect fuckin’ ass of yours if you do anything stupid tonight,” he warns.

  “You’d hit me?” I murmur.

  “Never.”

  “You just said you would,” I say. I try to shrink back, but his grip in my hair is too tight.

  “I said I’d spank you. I would never hit you, babe, never. I’d paint that pretty ass a nice shade of pink, but you’d be begging to come, not begging me to stop. So please, don’t fuck up tonight. You’re not ready for that yet,” he murmurs right before his lips press against mine in a hard kiss. He then releases me and takes off down the road again, as if our conversation didn’t just happen.

  My chest is heaving as I breathe heavily, and I stare at Bates’ profile in the moonlit truck cab as he drives toward the clubhouse. I press my thighs together, trying to alleviate the ache he’s given me. The thought of being bent over his knee while he spanks my bare ass is too much. I know Bates would never hurt me, so I also know that this spanking he’s promised for a later date is going to be shit hot.

  Luckily, before I can think too much more about it, we pull into the clubhouse parking lot. Thank goodness. I hurry out of the cab of the truck and quickly make my way toward the door. Bates’ long legs catch up to me, and he throws his arm around my shoulders before he yanks me close to his side. I feel his beard tickle my ear.

  “Remember what I said, Brentlee. Don’t do anything fucked up tonight. I’ll have eyes on you, my tigritsa,” he whispers before he lets me go and opens the door for me.

  The room is smoky and smells like booze, cum, weed, and cigarettes. I’m going to go home smelling like a brothel every single night. I shiver in disgust, but I try not to let it show. I’m grateful for the opportunity. Truly, I am.

  I know that I said I would strip, but in all honesty, I don’t think I could do it. This is scary enough for
me. I slip off my coat and shiver when all eyes glance in my direction. I feel naked enough in my tank and shorts, no way could I literally be nude.

  “Brentlee, baby, how’re you doin’?” Johnny Williams asks me, a cigarette hanging between his lips. He’s added a little bulk since school, but his frame is long and lean, and his muscles are the same. He’s built nothing like the massive tank of a man behind me.

  “Claimed,” Bates growls. I almost laugh.

  “I’m good, Johnny. It’s been a while,” I say softly.

  “Too long,” he murmurs, licking his lips and staring straight at my breasts.

  “Eyes and hands fuckin’ off, brother,” Bates grinds out. I want to laugh, but I don’t. If he knew the truth, if he only knew, maybe he wouldn’t want me so badly.

  I turn to him, ready to tell him that I’ve fucked Johnny, but one look in his eyes and I can’t. I can’t purposely hurt him. Not directly. I need to find a way to make it hurt as passively as possible. I close my eyes and leave him standing there. I walk straight to the bar and a boy-man around eighteen winks at me before he introduces himself as a prospect.

  Sniper

  I watch her go behind the bar. Dirty Johnny is smart and doesn’t follow the sweet view of her ass in those tiny shorts. Instead, he keeps his eyes on mine. He smirks like he has a secret and I’m about to find out just what it fuckin’ is, too.

  “What is your deal with her?” I growl.

  Fuck, I feel like I want to claw my own fuckin’ skin. I can’t take it anymore. She’s right there, right in front of me for days, but I can’t have her. It’s killing me.

  “You really don’t wanna know. I forgot you had history,” he mumbles. I take a step toward him, my nose practically touching his.

  “Tell me, lay it out,” I demand. He sighs before he shakes his head once.

  “You’d find out eventually, anyway. Your girl was a whore after you left her, man,” he says. My eyes fly from his to Brentlee as I take a step back.

  “What do you mean?” I ask. Blood starts pumping throughout my body as anger fills me.

  “She fucked a lot of dudes, what do you think I mean? You gave her a chin lift, and she’d spread. I hate to tell you, but that’s the fuckin’ truth,” he grunts. I look back at him, unable to focus on anything really.

  “You fucked her?”

  “Brother,” he starts before he clears his throat, “I was a punk ass kid. Wouldn’t matter what a girl looked like. She offered up pussy, I was gonna take it, and Brent’s always been hot as fuck. Of course I fucked her.”

  Without thinking, I storm right for her. She’s sliding a bottled beer over to Torch, but the only thing I can see is her. The whore. The fucking slut I’m in love with.

  I haven’t been a monk, but hearing that Brentlee spread for countless men, including members of the club, it does something to me. It pisses me off. I’m pissed at her and myself. I’m just furious.

  “Get your ass over here,” I bark from the side of the bar. Brentlee’s head pops up and a look of confusion crosses her face until her eyes meet mine, then I see nothing but guilt.

  “Bates,” she murmurs slowly walking toward me.

  I should take her into Fury’s office, but I’m so fucking mad, I don’t think. Instead, I speak, and I fuck up.

  “So you turned into a whore after I left, I hear,” I yell out angrily, loud—too loud. She flinches as if I’ve backhanded her.

  “Bates,” she says as her lips tremble—her pretty red painted lips, lips I want wrapped around my cock, even knowing what I know now. Nothing’s changed, except my pride, and that’s a mean fucker, because he won’t let me forget everything I’ve just heard.

  “You did. How many of the men here did you spread for? I’d like to know how many of my brothers have put their cocks inside of you,” I growl. It’s feral and mean sounding, even to my own ears.

  “Bates,” I hear Torch’s voice behind me, but I can’t look at anything but Brentlee.

  “It doesn’t matter. Now you know the truth, so you can stop acting like I’m yours, like this will ever work between us,” she yells.

  “Maybe you should be living here then; become a whore for the few guys you haven’t fucked yet,” I grind out before I shrug Torch’s hand from my shoulder and turn from her.

  I can’t look at her.

  Not right now.

  I leave, but before I make it to my pick-up, Torch is behind me.

  “You’re a fuckin’ dick, man,” he announces.

  “Yeah, the woman you love fuck a bunch of your brothers as soon as you leave?” I ask, turning my anger toward him—my only target.

  “You were gone. It doesn’t matter what she did, she wasn’t yours at the time.” My jaw clenches with my regret. He’s so right. I left her. I told her to have fun. I didn’t expect her to fuck anybody else, I didn’t want her to. She’s mine, always has been.

  “I won’t be back tonight. Make sure she gets home,” I mutter, getting into my pickup and speeding out of the parking lot.

  I’m fuckin’ done.

  I need a drink and my dick sucked after all this shit. I drive straight to the Devil’s Club in hope of drowning my sorry ass in booze and pussy.

  Brentlee

  “You all right over there, darlin’?” Grizz calls out from the other side of the bar.

  I watch the front door swing as Bates leaves and I sigh before turning to the big grizzly bear of a man. I give him a weak smile and a nod as my only answer before I go back to work, washing a million disgusting shot glasses.

  A few minutes later, Paxton Hill, or as the guys around here call him, Torch, appears in front of me from across the bar. He looks at me with concern and maybe pity, I’m not sure which.

  “I’m gonna take you home tonight, okay, babe?” he announces. I feel my stomach clench.

  This sealed the deal. This information about me got Bates to give up. Had I known it was so easy, that he’d walk away without a glance back at me, I would have confessed everything the first day. I would have never known how indescribably sweet he could be toward my daughter or toward me. He would have just simply been the-one-that-got-away. A sweet memory of the boy he used to be. I knew it would drive him away.

  I got exactly what I wanted.

  “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Thanks, Pax,” I murmur.

  “He’ll cool down, babe. You aren’t kids anymore; he can’t expect that you stayed true to him all these years. You were married, for fuck’s sake,” Paxton cries, taking a bottle of beer that I slide toward him. I have about seven more hours of work, he deserves at least one beer for dealing with me and my shit.

  “It’s better this way. Really, it is. I am who I am, and nothing can change that,” I shrug before I go back to washing shot glasses.

  “That’s bullshit,” Paxton says before he takes a swig of his beer.

  “No, it’s not,” I counter.

  “You were a fifteen-year-old kid who had her heart broken, so you turned to other punk ass kids for attention. That’s what being a kid is, making stupid as shit decisions. He was a stupid kid who broke your heart because he thought he was being noble, or some lame ass shit like that. Doesn’t make what he did right; doesn’t make what you did wrong, either. I don’t recall in the past six years you fuckin’ anybody but your husband, have you?”

  “Never,” I whisper. Not only would Scotty kill me, but I wouldn’t cheat on my husband, no matter how much I hated him.

  “You and Bates work your shit out, you gonna fuck his brothers on the side?” he asks. My head shoots up, my eyes connecting with his.

  “Never,” I say firmly. He nods once before he winks.

  “You’re a good girl, Brentlee. Been dealt some shitty hands, but all-in-all, you’ve always been a good girl,” he murmurs.

  “Doesn’t change that I’m a slut, Paxton,” I point out as someone calls for a beer. I quickly pop the top and hand it to the beastly man.

  “So you fucked a few guys whe
n you were a kid. Jesus Christ, do you even know how many girls Bates has fucked?”

  “Um, no, and I don’t think I want to,” I grumble as I continue to wash the never ending shot glass pile.

  “You really don’t; but let’s just say you’re like the virgin fuckin’ Mary, if we were to do a comparison,” he says. He then turns and walks away from me, leaving me standing there, behind the bar, with my mouth wide open.

  “Gonna catch flies, or maybe a swingin’ dick with your mouth open like that, babe,” a man says. I shut my mouth quickly, which causes him to start laughing. “I’m Vault, by the way.”

  “Brentlee,” I offer with a smile.

  “Know your sister real well. She’s good friends with my wife, Rosie,” he grins.

  I spend the rest of the evening serving beers and shots of hard liquor to bikers and whores alike, trying to not stare as the night progresses and people get drunker and drunker. The women are naked, the men are getting sucked and fucked, and then there’s me, serving drinks to them all. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, but it still makes me slightly uncomfortable to watch.

  “Shifts over, Brent. You ready to head out?” Paxton asks, coming up behind me and wrapping his fingers around my hip with a squeeze.

  “Sure,” I offer with a smile. I step away from him to grab my coat and purse.

  “You’ll have to be on my bike, Don’t have a cage,” he says with a shrug as we walk out of the bar.

  Luckily, it’s not too chilly out, so I agree and climb on the back of his bike after him.

  “Gonna have to hold on tighter, and closer than that,” he chuckles, I scoot even closer to him, my crotch nestled into the small of his back, and my arms tight around his trim waist.

  I hope Bates doesn’t come home tonight. I don’t think I could handle the way he looked at me again, shock and disgust marring his features. I am so obviously not his anymore, and now he’s perfectly aware as to why. I’m not the good girl I once was. I’m just some damaged slut now. Its better this way.

  Sniper

 

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