“That smells awesome,” Brent says, carrying a clean pajama clad Stella in her arms.
“Brambugers,” Stella cries before she wiggles out of her hold to dash to the table. I chuckle as I plate her food for her.
“Thanks, baby,” Brentlee murmurs, taking Stella’s plate and setting it down in front of her.
Once we’re all seated, I wrap my hand around her upper thigh and squeeze. She turns and gives me a cute lopsided grin.
“Today has been perfect,” I grunt. She smiles even wider.
“It has,” she nods.
I don’t think about this morning, how I almost lost my entire life in the blink of an eye. I don’t think about my stubbornness or hers. All I can think about is fuckin’ her in that dirty garage of mine; then spending the day with her and Stella.
I think about how I opened up a bit more, telling her a little of my past. In all honesty, I want to bury it all, but I can’t. Shit like that always has a way of rising to the surface.
I don’t let Brent clean up dinner when we’re finished. This is my night to take care of her. I plan on doing that, from the dishes to the bedroom. It’s all for my woman—to show her how happy I am that she’s agreed to be solely mine, agreed to wear my name. Tomorrow, she’s going to be branded, and I couldn’t be happier.
“Bates,” she calls out from the bedroom just as I’m putting the last piece of silverware in the dishwasher.
I don’t answer her call.
Instead, I close down the house and walk into our bedroom. I let out a groan when I see her. She’s on her knees in the middle of the bed, her body completely bare. Not one stitch of clothing covering her. I turn and close the door behind me, flipping the lock. I take off my cut and hang it on the door handle before I quickly strip out of my clothes.
Brentlee doesn’t move. Her eyes are fixated on me. They roam over my body and I can feel them on my skin like a caress. Just her hungry gaze turns me on.
“Spread your legs. Touch yourself,” I order. She visibly shivers.
I watch as her hand travels down between her tits, down her stomach, and between her thighs. She’s hesitant, and I stare as she begins to gently touch herself. I wrap my own hand around my cock and squeeze. Her small gasp fills the room, her eyes focused on the hand squeezing my dick.
“Are you?” she asks.
“Yeah, baby. I’m gonna stroke my cock while you play with that pretty pussy,” I grind out.
It’s taking everything inside of me not to throw her down and pound inside of her with all of my strength. But I want her worked up. I want her on the brink of insanity. I don’t say another word as I watch her, as I stroke my dick at the sight of her. I know when she starts really getting into it. Her fingers shove up inside of her cunt and she grinds down against her palm. I love it when she does that against my hand. I moan as her tits sway.
I close the distance between us, on the edge of blowing my load.
“Open up, baby,” I murmur. I watch as Brent’s eyes open wide. “Suck my cock and finger-fuck yourself.”
She wrinkles her nose slightly at my gruff words, but she doesn’t protest. Instead, she leans over, wrapping her hand around my thigh and keeping the other between her legs. She opens her mouth and I shove my dick down her throat. I don’t give her time to acclimate, like I did earlier.
I wrap my hand in her hair and hold her face still. I don’t need her to move a muscle, I just need her to take me. I fuck her mouth—her throat. Her hand is moving hard and fast between her legs, and I groan.
Fuck, she’s so hot.
When she starts to whimper and buck even harder I know she’s close. She’s tipping over the edge. I’m close, too. I thrust into her hot mouth a few more time before I yank her head back and pump my hand along my dick. I come in long, white spurts all over her gorgeous tits while she cries out her own release, her body stone still and her eyes rolled back inside of her head.
I hold her upright until her eyes open and meet mine. She has a little smile on her lips as I maneuver her to lie down on her back. I don’t lay down next to her. I straddle her hips and look down at my woman. I take my hand and rub my cum into her skin—across her gorgeous tits and even around her nipples, making them hard with my calloused touch.
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” I murmur as I continue to rub my cum into her body.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice sounding tired.
“Branding you,” I shrug. She chuckles softly.
“You do know once I take a shower this will all be washed away, right?”
I grin shaking my head once before I stand. She’s given me an idea.
I walk over to my jeans and snag my phone. Turning around, I make my way over to her. Brent’s eyes are nothing but slits, her lowered lids watching me.
“Now I can look anytime I want to,” I murmur before I start snapping pictures. Her eyes widen and she reaches up to snatch the phone away from me, but I jump back.
“Bates!” she cries.
“Smile pretty, baby,” I laugh.
“What are you going to do with them?” she whines. I shake my head before I snap a few more.
“When I have to go out on a run, these are what I’m gonna use to jack off,” I announce, tossing my phone onto the floor before I pick her up.
I carry her to the bathroom and start the shower for us.
“What?” she breathes.
“Can’t fuck anyone else, don’t want to either. Just gonna whack it to my tigritsa,” I say.
It’s the truth, too. Losing her would end me. Free, easy whore pussy ain’t worth it. I want my woman to be so fuckin’ happy she can’t remember the past ten years, not a single fuckin’ day of them. That means I gotta keep my dick in my pants. Ain’t that much of a fuckin’ hardship to do that.
I wash my seed from her tits, frowning as I do it. I want it to be as permanent as the ink she’s going to get tomorrow. I want every part of her to smell like me. I want every person who crosses her path to know that she’s mine.
I dry her off with a towel before I carry her to the bed, all of it in silence.
“I love you, Bates,” she whispers as she settles her ass into my crotch and her back against my chest.
“Always been you, baby. You have my heart. I’ve always loved you,” I admit before I kiss her shoulder.
We sleep. Unaware of what the future will bring, but willing to face it head on—together.
Brentlee
The sound of buzzing needles fills the space, and I shiver at the idea of getting these tattoos. Bates doesn’t want just one tattoo branding me as his. No, he wants two. One of his road name, Sniper, the other of his legal name, Bates.
How I let him talk me into this, I don’t know.
That’s a lie. I do know. It was the look in his eyes when he asked me, the happiness that filled them. I couldn’t deny him, not when he looked so fucking happy and then relieved.
Now, I’m standing in a tattoo parlor waiting for my turn. I still don’t know exactly what I want. I honestly don’t care. Whatever makes Bates happy, that’s what I want. It may sound silly, naïve, and passive, but it’s what I want. His happiness.
“Bates, brother,” a man says walking up to us. He’s got long hair pulled up in a man-bun, just the way Fury wears his, and he’s covered from neck to knuckles in black inked tattoos.
“Hey, man,” Bates grins as he shakes the man’s hand. “This is my woman, Brentlee,” Bates introduces. The man grins.
“You’re the famous Brentlee. I’ve heard of you,” he chuckles. “They call me Dragon,” he says, shaking my hand.
“Are you a Notorious Devil?” I ask quietly. He chuckles.
“Naw, but I do all their work; so I guess I’m kinda honorary, you’d say,” he laughs before he turns and walks to the back of the parlor.
Bates wraps his hand around mine and pulls me behind him as he follows. We pass people getting work done—arms, legs, hips, backs and chests, all on display
and getting adorned with what will hopefully be masterpieces.
We follow Dragon into a little room, and Bates closes the door behind me.
“What and where, babe?” Dragon asks.
“I have absolutely no clue,” I confess with a shrug. He starts laughing.
“You want Sniper somewhere, yeah?”
“Sniper and Bates. Script, girlie, but that’s all I know.”
“Snipe, you want a tramp stamp of that shit? Great viewing pleasure,” Dragon chuckles. I scrunch up my nose at the idea of a tramp stamp.
“Fuck, no. How about Sniper on her hip and Bates across her ribcage, wrapping around where her heart is?” he murmurs. I gasp. It sounds so pretty.
“How you want me to weave that shit in, flowers? If you say butterflies, I’m kicking your ass out,” he announces. It makes me giggle.
“I hate butterflies. How about a pretty feather, Bates, and an arrow underneath? The hip I’ll just make black scroll, girlie and delicate?” Dragon asks. I smile widely. It sounds so cool. I look up to Bates and he grins.
“Fuck yeah,” he grunts.
That’s what I spend the rest of the afternoon doing, getting my man’s name inked on two separate places of my body.
The tattoo needle feels like hundreds of little ant bites; it’s annoying, but it doesn’t hurt. I’ve had worse pain inflicted on me, so this is nothing. Dragon finishes the hip piece in what seems like mere minutes. Then he has me sit up and lift my shirt on the opposite side.
Bates growls when I have to remove my bra, but I just roll my eyes. This is what he wanted, where he wanted it. He really has no room to complain to me. There’s more pain when the needle goes into my ribs, but I just close my eyes and breathe. I listen to Dragon and Bates’ voices float throughout the room as they talk. I have no clue what they’re saying, as I can’t concentrate on their words, but their voices sooth me.
“All right, babe, all done,” Dragon says, patting my thigh.
I open my eyes and smile at him. I watch as he walks over to a table and grabs a mirror, bringing it over to where I’m sitting. He holds it out and my eyes scan the reflection. The tattoos are simple. An arrow with a feathered end on one side and a point on the other. The word Bates in scroll and then a feather above that right under my breast.
It’s beautiful. Simple. Elegant. Girlie.
It’s me.
“I love it,” I whisper before I turn to Bates. “Do you like it?”
“Love it, baby,” he murmurs, his eyes focused on his name, his name permanently branded to my skin. Though nobody will likely see this piece, it’s there, and he’ll see it, and that’s all that matters.
Dragon hands Bates the mirror and he holds it up so that I can see the tattoo on the other side of my body, on my hip. The script is high on my hip so that it can be seen when I wear low waist jeans, but it’s pretty. It’s simple and the same font as Bates’ name on my ribs. I like that they match.
“Can’t wait to show this shit off, baby,” Bates mumbles, his eyes fixated on my hip. I shake my head and smile.
“I love them both, Dragon. Thank you so much.”
“Now it’s the big man’s turn,” he chuckles as he rubs gel on my new ink and wraps them up with cellophane.
“Bates’ll tell you how to care for it, babe. But just keep ‘em clean, and keep puttin’ this shit on it. They’re gonna itch in a few days, and then you’ll be good to go.” I nod, taking a tube of gel from him as I stand up. I pull my shirt down, unable to put my bra back on. No way in fuck is that thing touching my skin anytime soon.
“What’re you gettin’?” Dragon asks as Bates takes his shirt off and settles in the chair, his broad muscular back on display.
“Need my Notorious ink, then I want my woman’s name on my neck,” he states.
A shiver runs through me and my nipples pebble at his voice and the meaning in his tone, the way he said my woman. All of it combined makes me want to jump him right here and now. I don’t, though I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, based on a few things he’s said about people watching him. I’m sure Dragon wouldn’t mind in the slightest, but it’s not something I could do. No matter how comfortable I am, that to me is private, or fairly private. A dark corner, a supply closet—yeah, okay. The middle of a room with an audience? No way. I close my eyes and try to shake all those images running through my head away.
“Babe, wakeup,” I hear Bates’ voice. I blink my eyes open.
He’s crouched down in front of me and I look over to his neck, seeing my name in dark scroll. The font matches his names on my body. It starts with the B right below his ear and runs diagonally, ending with the E at the hollow of his throat. Right between his collarbones. I don’t touch it, as badly as I want to. I also want to lick it, which I don’t do, but I can’t wait until it’s healed so that I can.
“You like it?” he asks, his eyes bright and shining as a smile plays on his lips.
“Yeah,” I breathe. He bites his bottom lip before he leans over and brushes his lips against mine.
“My back,” he stands and turns. The back tattoo is massive. We must have been here for hours.
The word Notorious is written across his shoulder blades. There is a skull in the middle with devil horns. The eyes are completely blacked out. It’s huge, taking up the majority of his back. It looks so lifelike, 3D, as though it could jump out at me. Across his lower back is the word Devils. The words are in block lettering, and the massive tattoo is all black. No color. None is needed. The statement is made. He is a Notorious Devil. He’s not to be fucked with.
“It’s badass,” I state. He turns with a jerk of his chin and a wink.
“It fits me then, yeah?”
I roll my eyes but smile as I do it. He is a badass. My badass.
“Let’s get outta here, babe. We both gotta head into work.” He takes my hand and we walk toward the front door. We pass Dragon on the way, and I tell him thank you with a wave.
“Anytime you need any new ink, babe, you just come on by. No appointment necessary,” he calls out.
“You don’t go in there without me,” Bates says as we climb into his pickup truck. I’m grateful we didn’t bring the bike. I would feel horrible having to be pressed against his back the entire ride.
“What? Why?”
“Just don’t,” he grunts. I grin, looking over at him.
“Are you jealous?” I ask.
“Of Dragon? Fuck no,” he mutters as we continue toward the clubhouse.
“Then what’s the big deal?”
“He’s seen your tit. He don’t need to see nothin’ when I ain’t there,” he grinds out. I giggle, which quickly turns into a full on laugh.
“Bates,” I gasp, trying to catching my breath.
“It isn’t funny,” he mumbles.
“You’re around naked strippers every single night. One tattoo artist sees half my boob and you act like he tried to seduce me.”
“I don’t look,” he states. I just stare at his profile, not understanding his words. “At the strippers. I don’t look anymore. I go into my office and I do my paperwork. I have cameras and I can see the audience through my surveillance. The tits, the ass, the pussies, I don’t look.”
“You don’t look,” I repeat. He nods as he pulls into the clubhouse parking lot.
“Only tits, ass, and pussy I want to see are yours, babe,” he says as he parks, throwing his wrist over the steering wheel.
“Seriously?” I ask, unbelieving of his words. How can he be surrounded by all of that bare skin and not look?
“Serious. Nothin’ any other bitch has that I wanna see,” he murmurs before he lifts his hand and slides it around my neck. I hold my breath when his face dips down and his lips press against mine.
“Meant it when I said I loved you, babe. Meant it when I said I’d stay faithful to you. Meant it all. I’m yours,” he whispers against my lips.
I melt.
Every part of me turns completely to goo. This man own
s me. He has always owned a piece of me, but now, right this minute, he owns every single part of me.
“I love you, Bates,” I murmur, unable to say anything else.
“Now, try to keep from giving the guys a free show with your tits while I’m gone, yeah? Really should have thought about placement of your tat better,” he grunts. I giggle.
I’m wearing a cropped oversized shirt that hangs off of one shoulder, but shows off my belly. My shorts are cut offs, short and low cut; you can see the per of my Sniper tattoo perfectly. I dressed super casual today, mainly because I wasn’t sure how much the ink would hurt. I’m glad I did, too. I’m pretty sore.
Sniper
I watch her cute little ass walk into the clubhouse, jealous as fuck that my brothers are going to have that view of her all night long. She bends over in that loose fitting top, and they’ll have the perfect view of her lush tits.
I should have made her go home for the night, but I already knew she’d raise hell with me. She needs the job. She needs to feel useful and to keep her mind off of her ex. Though she hasn’t mentioned him much since she came here, I can sense her unease about the prick. She’s constantly searching her surroundings for a sign of the bastard.
My eyes scan the parking lot once she’s left and I see Drifter on his bike. He gives me a head nod and I dip my chin before I take off. I look in my rearview mirror to make sure he’s behind me and am pleased to find him there. I drive toward my destination. It isn’t the club. I fibbed to Brent, but only to keep her safe.
We drive down the street of a fancy as fuck neighborhood. Brent’s old neighborhood. It’s lined with trees and huge houses. We park five houses down from our destination and I jump out of the truck. It’s dark and quiet.
“You sure you wanna do this, brother?” Drifter asks.
“Fuck yeah. This prick needs to be warned. I know he’s planning shit. No way did his daddy warn him off completely, he’s too cocky to take heed anyway,” I say.
“He is, no doubt about that,” Drifter says. I follow behind him.
We walk around the back of the house and slip inside undetected. This asshole should really have an alarm system. We wordlessly, and quietly, stalk up the stairs and toward the only light on in the house. The master bedroom. I hear moaning and grunting coming from the closed door. Drifter turns to me and lifts his brows with a grin on his face. I shake my head.
Rough & Raw (Notorious Devils Book 2) Page 15