Rough & Rugged (Notorious Devils Book 3)

by Hayley Faiman

  “Johnny,” I whisper.

  “No, I think she understands how stupid she was, now—now that it’s too late and she’s all fucked up. Say your goodbye’s, Hattie,” he says, his attitude and words leaving no room for argument.

  “I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for, Willa, but it’s not me. I’m in love with him,” I say. Willa nods and closes her eyes.

  “I never meant to hurt you. Not really,” she whispers.

  Johnny doesn’t allow me to respond. He takes my hand and pulls me out of the door just in time to see Andy jogging through the building.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, looking me over.

  “It’s the friend, Willa, not Hattie.” Johnny says.

  “What the fuck happened?” Andy roars.

  I look down at my fingers, twisting them as Johnny repeats the story. I don’t listen to his words when his voice dips lower and he moves his head closer to Andy. He doesn’t want me to hear him, so I don’t even try. I don’t want to know, not really. This whole thing is just such a disaster, and it makes my heart hurt that any of it happened.

  “Are you okay?” Andy asks, wrapping his hand around my shoulder.

  “I could be better,” I shrug.

  “How?”

  “If my big brother was cool with my decisions in life,” I say, looking into his eyes.

  “Hattie,” he sighs.

  “Johnny and I are together, Andy. We’re living together and it’s all really happening. Mom’s cool with it, dad won’t be, but I’d like to have your support, too,” I say.

  “What’s that shit on your arm?” he asks, completely ignoring my words.

  “I told you, we’re together,” I say holding out my arm for him to see.

  “That’s fuckin’ permanent, Hattie. What are you thinking?”

  “That I love him. He’s a good man, Andy,” I explain.

  Andy looks from Johnny to me and closes his eyes with a sigh and then opens them slowly before he speaks.

  “Fuck, Hattie,” he mutters. “You’ll protect her, never let anybody hurt her?” Andy asks, looking at Johnny.

  “With my life,” Johnny states firmly.

  “I find out you hurt her in anyway, I’m coming after you,” Andy grunts.

  “I’d expect nothing less,” Johnny says lifting his eyebrows.

  “Okay then. You both better be at dinner. You’ve missed way too many Sunday dinners, Hattie. Mom’s been a fuckin’ mess,” Andy says. I wrap my hand around his forearm.

  “So we’re cool?” I ask, furrowing my brow.

  “Do I like it? Fuck no. Can I accept it? If he treats you right, then I won’t have a choice.”

  “I love you, Andy,” I murmur, taking a step toward him and throwing my arms around his neck. He wraps his arms around my back and returns my hug.

  “Love you, too, Hattie,” he says into my hair.

  “Dinner, Sunday?” I ask looking back at Johnny from Andy’s arms.

  “Whatever you want. That extends to all things,” Johnny mutters. I can’t wipe the grin off of my face.

  Andy releases me and goes to the door of the room where Willa is being held. He looks back at me, Johnny’s arm now wrapped around my waist, and he shakes his head.

  “Fucking hell. Got a damn outlaw in my family, and there’s nothin’ I can do about it,” he mutters, shaking his head.

  “Not a fuckin’ thing,” Johnny informs him.

  “Fucking hell,” Andy repeats, opening the door to Willa.

  Johnny motions for a few prospects and instructs them to help in any way they can before he turns me away and takes my hand, walking me out the front door of the clubhouse.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, trying to keep up with his long strides.

  “Home, princess. Home.”

  I climb on the back of his bike and curl my body closer to his. Home never sounded so damn good.

  I take my girl home.

  I feel like I could sleep for a fuckin’ week, and I intend to start immediately. Though, it won’t be for a week. MadDog will be at the clubhouse tomorrow night, and then there’s going to be a huge family BBQ the next day.

  Granted, his mission isn’t for pleasure; but when Kent heard he was comin’ to town, she wouldn’t accept anything less than a big fuckin’ party.

  Family.

  Family is what we’re all about.

  Once we’re inside of our house, I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s good to be fuckin’ home.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” Hattie announces.

  “Gonna have a beer,” I murmur.

  I turn to walk into the kitchen and jump when I feel her arms around my waist.

  “You good?” she asks.

  I turn around to face her and bend down to slide my nose against the side of hers, inhaling her sweet scent as I do. She smells like her lotion, but also like me, and sex. Fuck, it’s hot.

  “Yeah, I’m real good,” I murmur, pressing my lips to hers.

  “Come wash me?” she asks.

  “Yeah, princess. I’ll wash you.”

  I abandon the idea of my beer until after I’ve pleased my woman—after I’ve washed my Hattie. Whatever she wants, she fuckin’ gets.

  “Can I play with your ass while I wash you?” I ask, slapping her sweet ass cheek.

  “I—okay,” she murmurs.

  “You’ll like it,” I grunt.

  “I like everything you do, Johnny,” she sighs.

  We make our way into the bathroom and I turn to start the water before I begin to strip off Hattie’s clothes. I’m not going to fuck her ass yet, but I want her to enjoy the play. Soon, I’ll buy some plugs and train her. The whore’s I’ve fucked in the ass had done it plenty of times before. Hattie’s ass is too tight for my cock right now. I’d never want to hurt her—ever.

  Once we’re under the warm spray of the water, I grab some soap and lather it in my palms. I don’t speak as I massage the soap over Hattie’s tits, stomach and then between the folds of her pussy. She moans as I clean her, then when all the soap has been washed away, I finger her gently—just one finger sliding through and then inside of her tight pussy.

  “Pinch your nipples for me,” I instruct. I groan when she does, throwing her head back and riding my finger.

  “Now turn around, princess,” I murmur. I watch her inhale a shaky breath as I pull my hand from between her legs before she turns around.

  I lather my hands with soap again and repeat the massage, only this time, on her shoulders and back before I knead her ass cheeks. She moans and pushes her ass back a little into my hands. Then I slip two fingers in her crack while I push down on her shoulders a little. I find her tight hole and I massage her.

  “Just relax,” I murmur as I continue to massage her sweet hole.

  I can tell when she’s relaxed because she moans and pushes her ass against me. Fuck. I slip my other hand around the front of her hip and play with her clit as I simultaneously push a finger into her ass.

  “Johnny,” she cries as she pushes back against me a little more.

  It’s different from every time I’ve played with her back entrance. This isn’t about her pussy; this is all about that sweet ass. I remove my finger from her clit and focus on her asshole. I want her to enjoy just the ass play.

  No matter what, I’ll always make her come, but she needs to be comfortable like this. This is something I don’t want to give up, and the thought of sinking into her tight ass has my cock hard as nails.

  “Push back and fuck my finger with that perfect, little ass,” I growl.

  Hattie shivers before she does as I say. She rears back and cries out, throwing her head against my shoulder. My cock goes painfully hard as she begins to writhe against my hand. I close my eyes and just feel her, I start to rub her clit again to bring her to climax. I feel her climb toward her release, and when she comes, it’s with a scream that tears from her throat like one I’ve never heard before.

  “Oh.my.god,”
she whispers right before her body sags.

  “That’s about right, princess,” I chuckle as I turn off the water. I grab a towel from the cabinet before I dry us both off. Then I carry her into our bedroom and lie her down on the bed.

  I crawl up behind her and wrap her in my arms, pulling her naked back against my chest.

  “What about you?” she yawns as she strokes my forearm.

  “When you wake up later, it’ll be with my cock buried inside that sweet cunt. Don’t worry about me,” I murmur against her shoulder. “Sleep, Hattie.”

  “I love you, Johnny,” she mutters as her body relaxes.

  “Love you.”

  I wake with a start, but it isn’t because Johnny’s cock is buried deep inside of me, it’s because there is a loud pounding on our door. I look over at Johnny and find him passed out. After the crap he’s been through, he needs his sleep. I hurry and pull on a pair of panties and one of Johnny’s discarded black t-shirts, and then rush out into the living room.

  I pull open the door and see my father standing on the doorstep. I slip over the threshold and join him on the porch, not wanting to wake up Johnny.

  “Can I help you?” I ask.

  “Your brother came by and informed me of your decision to live with this… man,” he says.

  “Yes, father,” I say, nodding my head.

  “I’ll pay for your school, Henrietta,” he announces.

  “What?”

  “That bullshit cooking school you want to go to, I’ll send you.”

  “Why now?” I ask, looking at him.

  My father has been against it since the moment I mentioned it when I was fourteen years old. It’s been my passion and my dream, and he has staunchly been against it since day one.

  “I don’t want you with that thug,” he admits, lifting his chin toward the house.

  “If I went to pastry chef school, I would still be with Johnny,” I say.

  “Not if I sent you to New York,” he says, thrusting a pamphlet at me.

  I rip it in half without even looking at it and press it against his chest.

  “You didn’t care if I was evicted from my apartment. You told me I made my bed of shit and it was up to me to turn it into roses. You only care now because I’m with somebody you don’t approve of, which was one of the main reasons you said you wouldn’t pay for school,” I point out. My dad’s face turns red with anger.

  “He’s not safe,” he says.

  “Johnny’s plenty safe, and he’s good to me,” I say.

  “You already love him.”

  “I do,” I nod once.

  “Fucking hell, Hattie. If you don’t leave now, you never will. You’ll be stuck,” my dad murmurs as he runs his hand over his face.

  “I like where I am,” I say. He shakes his head.

  “Don’t come running to me when shit goes south.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it,” I say with a shrug.

  “I’m washing my hands, Henrietta. You want to ruin your career possibilities, then that’s on you. I don’t want to know anymore,” he announces.

  “We’ll see you at Sunday dinner, and maybe you won’t dislike him so much. You know, after you meet him,” I murmur.

  “See you Sunday,” he mutters before he walks away from me.

  I sigh and turn around, walking back into the house. I lock the front door behind me and let out a yelp when I see Johnny standing at the kitchen counter.

  “Your dad pissed?” he asks.

  “Yeah. Offered to send me to New York to pastry chef school,” I admit as I walk toward him.

  “You should go,” he mumbles, looking down at the cake that’s sitting on the cake stand.

  “Never. I could never miss out on everything you’re going to give me,” I say as I wrap my arms around his waist.

  “And what’s that?”

  “Whatever I want, remember? It’s mine, whatever I want,” I say, repeating his words from weeks ago.

  “Whatever you want, princess,” he whispers as he tangles his fingers in the back of my hair. Then he leans down and whispers against my lips “Whatever you fuckin’ want, Hattie.”

  I pull up in front of Hattie’s parent’s house, throwing the Chevelle in park and turning to face her before I get out. She’s got her hands in her lap and she’s twisting her fingers together nervously. I wrap my hand around the both of hers and give them a squeeze. “We don’t have to go, if you you’re not ready,” I murmur, silently hoping we can ditch family night.

  “No, I’ll be okay,” she whispers, looking up and over to me with a slight smile on her face.

  “Yeah?”

  “Uh huh, let’s go,” she says inhaling deeply.

  I swing my legs out of the car and close my door before I walk over to Hattie’s side and help her out of the car. She grips my hand tightly as we walk up the path that leads to the front porch. I knock on the front door and wait for one of her parents to answer, assuming it’s going to be her father.

  Andy surprises me when he’s on the other side, greeting us with a smile and me with a handshake.

  “Dad’s in a mood,” he grumbles, narrowing his eyes on me slightly, as we pass the threshold.

  “I’m sure,” I grunt. I’ve got to be the fuckers biggest nightmare come to life, as the boyfriend of his daughter.

  Hattie leads me into the living room where her father is sitting in a chair watching television. He looks up and his impassive expression turns to anger in an instant at the sight of me. His eyes scan my body from head to toe and his lips turn from a frown to a sneer.

  “Dad?” Hattie calls out.

  His eyes leave me and turn to his daughter. I watch as his face goes from red-faced anger to annoyance at the sight of his daughter. My own irritation doubles at the way he’s looking at Hattie. If I were anywhere else and he were anyone else, I’d tell him to fuck off and I’d be out the door, but for Hattie I won’t. I’ll fuckin’ suck it up, for her.

  “Mr. Morris,” I say holding out my hand for him to shake. He looks from Hattie to my hand and back to Hattie. Then he takes my hand and gives me a firm shake.

  “I’m Johnny Williams.”

  He doesn’t respond because Mrs. Morris walks in and hugs Hattie before she turns to me with a smile, pulling on my shoulders and taking me into a hug.

  “Johnny, is Henrietta not feeding you? You look like skin and bones,” Hattie’s mom says, breaking the thick tension that fills the room.

  Hattie and I laugh a little awkwardly, as we follow her mom into the dining room. I’m ignored for the most part, which I’m fine with. Hattie fidgets in her seat for the entirety of the dinner and her father takes turns glaring between the two of us. Hattie’s mom is the only one obliviously keeping the conversation flowing as best as she can and once dessert is consumed we excuse ourselves and leave.

  The evening was completely full of tension and it was awkward, but it was also so different from the way I was raised that it shocks the shit out of me. There’s no screaming or yelling, no dope on the counter, and no talk of sex.

  I don’t say much on our way back to the house, just thinking about the differences in how our families are. We were raised so fucking differently, I wonder if this can work, really work?

  “Johnny,” Hattie whispers as I pull into the garage. I don’t look at her, my mind too far fucking gone into my own head. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’re family’s really fuckin’ great.”

  “Yeah, I think tonight went okay,” she murmurs.

  “It could have been worse,” I say. I don’t say anything else. I don’t know what to say. Hattie reaches out and wraps her hand around my forearm.

  “Let’s go inside. Let’s go to bed,” she smiles shyly.

  “You’re too good for me,” I grunt.

  “I’m yours, Johnny,” she whispers.

  “Fuck yeah, you are,” I mutter.

  We get out of the car and go inside. I need to be inside of her.

  �
��I need you, Johnny,” Hattie whispers once we’re in our bedroom.

  I grin at her words, knowing that I need her, too. Once we’re stripped and I ease my way inside of her hot cunt, I know that I can’t leave her, that whatever we have, it’s going to work out simply because she’s her, she’s Hattie. It doesn’t matter how different we were raised, one look in her eyes and I’m fucking gone for her. Fucking obliterated.

  Tonight, in this bed, it’s just me and Hattie. Tomorrow it’s life back to normal with the arrival of MadDog but tonight I’m going to take her over and fucking over—owning her just as she fucking owns me.

  Hattie and I fucked and slept through MadDog’s arrival and, honest to god, I was glad for it. If I had to see that cunt Serina again, I probably would have killed her right then and there—the bitch. Staying home and alternating between sleeping and fucking was the best idea I could ever have.

  Now we’re getting dressed for the BBQ. It’s mid-afternoon and Hattie is taking her sweet ass time while I relax on our sofa, a sofa I’ve only sat my ass on a handful of times.

  “We gotta go,” I call out.

  “I’m coming,” she says as she walks into the room.

  My mouth fucking falls to the floor. Hattie is wearing an extremely too tight and extremely too short black skirt. Her top is the fucking same, showing off her flat stomach, and her hair is gathered to the side, falling straight down her shoulder. Her shoes are flat sandals, and I try not to groan at the sight of her.

  “Is this okay?” she asks, making the motion of smoothing down her skirt.

  “Yeah, if you want me to fuck you in front of everybody,” I grind out as I stand from the sofa, my dick pressing painfully hard against the zipper of my jeans.

  “Wh-what?” she breathes.

  “Your clothes are fuckin’ non-existent, princess,” I murmur as I walk up to her and slip my hand around her waist, pulling her into my chest.

  “I wanted to look like a hot biker babe,” she mutters, tipping her head back to look at me. I can’t control my grin at her words.

  “You’re my hot biker babe, even when you’re covering all that skin up,” I state.

  “Do I need to change?” she asks, looking so unsure of herself.