by Deja Voss
He pins my hands to the glass, up over my head, as he slides inside me, filling me with his hard rod. I’m so wet, I take him in without resistance, groaning as his dick presses into my tender g-spot. It feels so dirty, being splayed out like this, even though I know no one can see us way up here. I don’t care either way.
Everyone in this town is a stranger. If they want to watch my gorgeous husband fuck me, by all means. I might be reformed, but the idea of it still turns me on. His thrusts are hard, and he grips me by my hips, pulling me into him as he slowly works his way in and out, our thighs slapping together with every movement. I can’t contain my screams, especially when he buries his face in my neck, biting into me just hard enough to get my attention in the best possible way. Nothing makes me wetter than the way he wants me, the way that he loses all control and fucks me stupid. I feel myself succumb to another orgasm, and as my core clenches around him, gripping him tight, he groans and pulls me into him, and I know he’s about to completely lose it.
“Fuck,” he growls in my ear. “You make me crazy, woman.”
“Cum inside me,” I plead. “I want to feel you.” He hugs me tight, unloading his hot seed deep inside my womb. My body relaxes into his arms, and I open my eyes with a sigh, staring out onto the beach.
I have to blink a few times. I know I’m drunk off his dick, but I’m pretty sure I’m not hallucinating.
“Is that?” I ask, pointing out into the horizon.
“Yeah. It’s a wild horse. This is their island. I know how much you love animal watching.” He slides out of me and takes me by the hand, leading me to the balcony door. We step outside into the warm salty air and watch as the horse grazes on some grass growing from a dune.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, watching as the big brown horse is joined by another, and then another. There’s even a baby foal trailing behind, and although it’s getting pretty dark, I can still make out the white spot on its head. “It’s amazing.”
I’m crying. I don’t know why, but I can’t hold back my tears. I’ve never known love like this before, even though it’s been right under my nose my entire life. I don’t know what I did to deserve this incredible man, and I will never forget this day for as long as I live.
“You’re amazing, Esther,” he says, wrapping his arms around my waist, kissing the top of my head. In this moment, I feel so connected. To him, my husband, to these horses running free, to the life that I have always dreamed of. In this moment, I am finally complete.
46
Epilogue
Brooks:
“Ready to get back to work, bud?” Gavin asks, slapping me on the back in the parking lot of the clubhouse.
Esther and I have been gone for the last month, road-tripping up and down the east coast, staying in shitty hotels, eating at tiny local diners, and jumping in the ocean together every chance we had. Married life has been great so far, even though we’ve been detached from our day-to-day reality. Neither one of us spoke a word about the events leading up to our honeymoon, but I can see it in the way she smiles to herself, the way the nightmares have stopped, the way she’s standing a little taller; she is the same girl I fell in love with way back when, and not just the broken shell of a woman her father made her into.
“I gotta tell you something first,” I say to him, “and you better not fucking hit me.”
“Listen, I already know you had sex with my sister. We all know,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“I did,” I assure him. “And also, I married her. In that order.” I hold up my left hand, showing him the black tattoo of her new initials on my ring finger. ELH. It’s official.
He looks like his jaw is going to hit the ground. “Shit, man,” he says. “I don’t know if I should congratulate you or kick you in the nuts. Why didn’t you tell us?”
I just shrug. “Guess we just wanted to have something for ourselves for a little bit. I don’t know how to explain it. We figured we could have a party up here once we got back, do it up traditional.”
“I never thought you’d pull the trigger before I did, dude. Where is she, anyway?”
“She went up to your house to get Mr. Gingerbread.”
“Thank God. I don’t know why, but our dog is terrified of that disgusting toothless thing. I think I kind of am, too.”
Being back up on the mountain feels good. This place has been my home my entire life. There’s something different in the air, though. Excitement. There’s that static smell like just before a thunderstorm, even though the sky is clear. Everyone took a time-out from club life while we were gone, but now that we’re back, it’s full speed ahead, only this time, we’re rebuilding.
Clutch and Austin come out of the clubhouse carrying Moses’ wooden four-poster bed frame and toss it on the pile with his other belongings. Moses was the one who suggested we build this place into a mansion to begin with. He lived here all these years, with members of the club living in the apartments downstairs if they needed a place to stay, but now that he’s gone, we plan on using this space for something different.
The sound of her engine roars down the dirt road; I’d know that bike anywhere, and Esther pulls into the parking lot, grinning like a wild woman.
“I’m sorry,” she says, kissing me on the cheek as she takes off her helmet. “I missed this thing so much. Had to fire it up and make sure it was still running.” It was nice having her on the back of my bike for the last month, but seeing her ride her own is hot in its own right. Sure, she was made for this life, born into this, and doesn’t know anything else, but even if she wasn’t, she still pulls off that queen of the bikers thing better than anyone I’ve ever met.
“What is all this?” she asks, eyeing the giant pile of furniture, clothes, and other random odds and ends of Moses’ stuff, reminders of him stacked nearly six feet high.
“I think this is the last of it,” Trixie says, tossing an armful of bedsheets into the pile. “Fucker sure did have good taste in sheets. Too bad the only way to wash him out of them is to light them on fire.”
“We told Dad he could come back and get his stuff if he wanted to,” Gavin says. “We don’t need it.”
“You called him?” Esther stammers, looking kind of perturbed. “What happened to excommunication?”
“I called him,” Heat says, hanging his head. “I’m sorry. He’s just… he was one of my oldest and longest friends. I had so many questions.”
I put my arm around his shoulder. “It’s ok, dude. Did you get what you were looking for?”
“No,” he says. “And yes. I guess it just made things very clear. He doesn’t belong here. He’s not one of us.”
“Are we going to burn this bitch or what?” Trixie asks.
Tank and Red grab cans of gasoline and begins to douse the pile. As Gavin holds the lighter to it and it goes up in flames, a thick cloud of black smoke fills the air and we all begin to cough. It smells like him. It smells like hell on earth.
We huddle around the fire, the whole crew just watching as the pile slowly turns to ash.
“Here,” Gavin says, pressing something into my hand.
“No,” I say to him as I realize what it is, trying to press it back into his. “That’s yours.”
“Too late,” Goob says, smiling at me. “Maybe the next time you decide to go fuck around for a month, you’ll think twice.”
“Dude, you fucked around for a year,” I laugh. I have always loved the kid, even when he was at his worst, but going away and getting clean and getting his life back on track was probably the best thing that could’ve happened for him, and for all of us. I hope he decides to stay now that Moses is gone.
“I’m back for good now,” he says. “Well, unless I find a lady for myself who wants to go on extended vacations.”
“You will,” Esther says, hugging him tight. “I’m so happy you’re back, brother.”
I hold the patches in my hand, running my fingers over the scraps of fabric, not daring to look down at them yet, not
sure if this is really happening. If it is, it means something huge, not only for the club, but for me and Esther.
“Are those?” Esther asks when she spots them, not daring to say it out loud.
“Yes,” Gavin says. “Now will you hurry up and burn them already so we can officially get you into office?”
“Come on, ya pussy,” Austin says. “What are you waiting for?”
If I burn these patches, the patches we stripped from Moses, it means that I am the next president of the Misfits. I never thought this would happen. Once my father passed away, I thought he took his legacy with him. Part of me wants to say no. The responsibility of taking care of a motorcycle club is nothing to be taken lightly.
I look around the circle, all of my Mountain Misfit brothers anxiously watching, waiting for me to put our old president to rest officially. I can tell they took this decision very seriously, and I know it’s what they want or we wouldn’t be standing here like this right now.
I look to Esther. She’s smiling up at me. She reaches to stroke my face, and whispers in my ear, “They need you. You were made for this.” She nods to me as I reach out and toss the patches on the fire. I hug her close, kissing her on the lips, feeling like, as long as I have her by my side, I can do anything.
“I think it’s time for some beers,” Clutch cheers. “To the new president.”
Esther:
I don’t know how I thought I would feel, setting foot into the clubhouse for the first time after our extended honeymoon. As much as I’ve loved living in our disjointed reality for the last month, far enough away that I could focus on our relationship and our relationship only, with a whole lot of practice baby-making, and days filled with fun and exploration of new places, I knew this day was going to come, that we’d have to come back to our lives and face whatever wreckage we left behind. I look around the big barroom, and I feel like all the air is being pressed out of me. I know the guys got rid of all my dad’s stuff, but everywhere I look, I still see little memories of him.
All the experiences of the club as I know it, all the pictures, all the deer heads mounted on the walls, everything in this building just screams him. He will forever haunt this place. I swear I can still see him sitting there at a barstool out of the corner of my eye, puffing on a fat cigar, making some crude joke to the bartender about her tits.
“Are you ok, babe?” Brooks asks me as I cling to his hand, hovering in the doorway.
“It feels weird,” I whisper. “It’s so sad here. Do you care if I go outside for a little bit? I don’t want to take away from your big day with my feelings.” I don’t. I want to be able to uplift him, celebrate with him, celebrate the future of our club and our men, and look forward to all the exciting things that are about to come. I want to support my husband like a good wife, like he always supports me. Instead, I feel like I’m having an anxiety attack. I feel like the walls of this giant mansion are closing in around me. It’s hard to breathe, my chest tightens, and I feel like I’m suddenly very warm.
“Come on,” he says, wrapping his arm around my waist. “Let’s go outside.”
“Brooks!” Gavin yells from behind the bar, holding up a glass of moonshine. “Get over here!”
“I’ll be back,” he says, waving to him. God, he’s such a good man.
We walk out into the cool mountain air, the smell of smoke still lingering as the fire burns down to ashes. I shield my eyes from the sun as we sit at the picnic table.
“I don’t want to feel like this,” I tell him, as tears start to pour from my eyes. “I’m happy for you. I’m happy for us. I want to support you, Brooks.”
“Esther, you do support me. You support me in ways that you don’t even know, and you’re allowed to feel however you want right now. We can’t hide forever, but if you’re not ready to face this place, you don’t have to. Let me take you home. Let me take care of you.”
“No,” I say. “This isn’t about me. You’re right. We can’t hide forever. There’s no reason to hide at all. These are our people, and they don’t want to be sad anymore. They definitely don’t want us to be sad. The only way I’m going to get over the past is to make damn sure that we have the best possible future. Together. Me and you, Brooks. Now, Mr. President, you need to go inside and celebrate with your men. I’m going to call up the dirty birdies and the old ladies and we are going to throw a good old-fashioned Mountain Misfits celebration.”
“You sure?” he asks, grinning like a little kid who just got away with something.
“Go,” I say, smiling up at him.
“I need to talk to you about the clubhouse. I know the president usually lives here, but…”
“There’s nothing in the world that would make me move into this place,” I say. “That rule is going to have to go.” I love our home. I love the way it feels, the way it smells, I love how cozy it is. There is no way in hell I will ever move out of that house on my own accord.
“Oh thank God,” he says.
“I actually have another idea for the mansion,” I say. “A business proposition, if you will. But I’m going to save that for the next meeting. That is, if I’m still allowed.”
“You will always have a place at my table, Esther. That will never change.”
He kisses me on the lips with his warm mouth, every time still feeling like the first time, taking my breath away.
“You better stop that,” I laugh, “or you are going to have to take me home.”
“Oh, I will,” he says. “We have a lot of rooms we’re going to have to christen as newlyweds, you know.”
“As president and first lady,” I laugh.
“That too.” He doesn’t say anything else, and I realize that maybe he needs to talk. This new position of power has just been thrust upon him, and nobody really considered how he might feel about it.
“You don’t want it, do you?” I ask him.
“Esther, I do want it. I just wish my dad were still around to help me. I wish he was still here to guide me and teach me everything he knew about running the club. He was such a good man.” I wrap my arms around him and hug him tight, pressing my cheek to that solid chest of his.
“He would be so proud, Brooks. You avenged his death. And you saved me and the rest of us from my father. He did teach you everything you need to know about running this club. He taught you to be fair. He taught you to be kind. He taught you to do the right thing and be fearless. He taught you loyalty. What else do you need to know?”
“Are you guys coming back in here or what?” Clutch shouts from the doorway. “Come on! We missed you assholes.”
I kiss him softly and shoo him off. “I’m gonna make some phone calls. Go have fun with your friends.” He lingers a second, squeezing my hand, smiling at me. “Go!” I say. I sit back down on the picnic table bench, watching the ashes smolder, and breathe in the mountain air. Everything has changed, everything is still changing, but the reality is, I’ve got everything I’ve ever needed, and even more so, I’ve got everything I ever wanted. There’s no reason to dwell on the way I got here, I can only move forward.
I pull out my phone and set up a group text. It’s time to gather the masses. We’re going to throw down tonight. My husband deserves a celebration, and my men need one.
Party on the hill. I send to the girls. Not just my friends, Olive and Sloan, but all my girls: My bartenders. My dirty birdies. The wives who often times go forgotten. Not Morgan, but I’m sure I’ll forgive her one of these days. Brooks might have a band of wild Misfits to wrangle, but I have an even more important job. One that I’ve let slip lately. I need to be the one who empowers the amazing women in our lives. To show them how important they are to the club.
“How’d you get here so fast?” I ask Olive as she comes walking up the driveway.
“You told me I could move into your trailer, right? Or was that pot brownie day and I was just imagining things?”
“Yes!” I squeal. Knowing that one of my best friends in the who
le world is going to be living basically next door to me is just the icing on the cake of this awesome day. “I do have one question though, totally random, but it’s kind of been bugging me. My dad tried to tell me that Morgan was living with you after she left Salazar’s?”
“Oh my God,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I let her stay at my place one night because her apartment complex was being fumigated for cockroaches. After about a week I realized I was going to have to call a guy to come spray for her to get rid of her. Why do you think I wanted to move up here?”
“I knew you wouldn’t be that awful.”
“I missed you, girl,” she says, hugging me tight. “Now let’s go get stupid.”
Brooks:
“You look gorgeous, babe,” I tell her as she walks down the steps in her black jumpsuit. Her red hair is curled and pulled off to the side, and her make-up is dark and sexy. The way the halter top crisscrosses over her breasts makes me want to bury my face in them. But that’s for later. Today is the grand opening of her newest business endeavor, the Mountain Misfits’ newest business endeavor, and it’s my job as loyal husband to support her and make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible. And also keep anyone from touching her, looking at her, or thinking about her inappropriately. That might prove to be a challenge, but I’m up for it.
“Relax,” she says, noticing my eyes on her cleavage. She slips on a black sequin jacket and buttons it up to her neck. She still looks stunning, but I breathe a little sigh of relief. I’m so proud of her. She’s been busting her ass for the last couple months, researching a business plan, reaching out to our alliances, and helping the guys completely gut the entire mansion to turn it into a place where we can do business.
A place where we can keep working with the clientele she has spent most of her adult life catering to, without her having to ever cater to them ever again. At least not personally.