Notorious Devils MC Complete Collection: BoxSet

by Hayley Faiman

  “Well, are you going to tell me or keep me guessing?”

  “I met someone,” I confess, afraid to tell him the rest of the story immediately.

  “And…”

  “And, we’re moving in together. I’m pregnant, mom and dad don’t approve of him. I think they just disowned me,” I rattle off quickly. Connellee grunts.

  “Black sheep syndrome, Kent. Total black sheep,” he chuckles.

  “This isn’t funny, Conn. They are so pissed. They told me to get an abortion if I wanted to stay in the family.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” he shouts.

  I can tell he’s just as angry as I am about it.

  “Wish I were,” I murmur.

  “Assholes. Don’t worry about them, Kent. You’re a big girl, you make your own decisions. They’re being their normal close-minded selves. They’ll either get over it or they won’t, but don’t you change the course of your life for those petty assholes,” he lectures. I smile to myself—I love my brother.

  “No worries. I basically told them to fuck themselves,” I admit.

  “Good. Now who’s this guy and is he going to take care of you?” he asks.

  I spend the rest of my walk home with a smile on my face as I talk to my big brother. It’s the first time we have ever talked like this before in our adult lives, and it’s nice.

  I didn’t realize how much I had missed having him around until this moment. It feels good to have his support, even at a distance.

  Once I reach my house, I promise to call him more often with baby updates, and to send him pictures of my growing belly—something he thinks is going to be freaky, but awesome—and then we hang up.

  When I am inside of the house, I lock the door behind me and strip off my clothes and shoes.

  My feet ache.

  I look down at my phone and frown, only just realizing that I walked for over an hour and Pierce never called me back.

  I decide to text him before I shower and crawl into bed.

  I made it home safely, walking home from my parents. I’m going to bed now. See you….Whenever.

  Chapter Eleven

  FURY

  War.

  The word lingers, tasting vile on my tongue, but it is a necessity in this life.

  I close my eyes and take a hit from the joint in my hand. I need the green to calm down.

  Brothers are gathering their Old Lady’s and children, packing clothes for a few weeks and shopping for food that will hopefully last a month.

  We'll probably need to take a few runs for fresh shit as the weeks go on.

  The temporary lockdown I insisted on a few days ago has just been blasted to semi-permanent. There’s no end in sight, at this point.

  “Notice you ain’t goin’ to pick anybody up,” Sniper remarks, lifting his bearded chin at me.

  “Nope. Gonna enjoy this smoke right here and bake a while,” I reply, knowing exactly what he’s referring to.

  Knowing it’s the fact that I didn’t rush out of here, like the other guys, and grab Kentlee to keep her safe from the Bastards.

  “You need me to keep an eye on her? I’ll be more than happy to stick around her for protection,” he says, his eyes searching mine.

  “Don’t want you anywhere near her,” I growl.

  He nods once with a tip of his lips.

  “Didn’t say I’d fuck her, man. She’s like a sister to me, anyway. A hot as fuck sister, but a sister, nonetheless.”

  I want to stab him in the throat and gut him for calling her hot—she’s mine.

  But is she?

  If I don’t claim her in front of my brothers, is she really mine at all?

  “She’ll be fine,” I reply, ignoring his bullshit taunting about her being hot as fuck.

  “You’re the boss, Pres,” he hisses in obvious disagreement of how I’m handling this situation.

  I couldn’t give a fuck.

  My phone dances around on the table, ringing. I look down to see her name flashing. I don’t answer it. Not in front of him.

  If I answer it then he’ll know she’s got my nuts in a vice. She does, too. That woman could say jump and I’d ask how high.

  Fucking pathetic.

  I take the phone and shove it into my pocket as I walk to the bar. I need a beer and to finish this joint.

  I need to relax before this whole war breaks out.

  I look around, noticing many of my brothers are thinking along the same lines as I am.

  Kitty’s busy at work, sucking on one cock while another brother fucks her from behind. I shake my head with a laugh.

  Dirty assholes.

  I sidle up next to Torch at the bar. He’s pouring himself a shot and grabs another glass, doing the same for me.

  Lifting it to my lips, it burns as it goes down, but it feels good, calming, and normal. I haven’t had my brand of normal these past few days, not since hooking up with Kentlee.

  I need some normal.

  “You been missin’ around here the past coupla days,” Torch comments. I nod.

  “Yup,” I say, not elaborating.

  “Get a piece of town pussy?” he asks, looking straight forward.

  “Something like that,” I admit.

  “Keep that close to the vest then, brother,” he grumbles.

  I look over at him in surprise, but don’t say anything else. He takes one more shot before he leaves me alone to drink.

  I don’t know how long I sit at the bar, but the music is blaring and the place is filled with Old Ladies, club sluts, and brothers.

  The party before the hell. The calm before the storm.

  I stumble away from the bar and into my room. I blink in surprise to see Kitty sitting spread eagle on my bed.

  I grin lazily when she slides her fingers into her pussy and starts to pump in and out. Honest to fuck, I don’t know how she could want any more dick.

  “Fury,” she moans.

  It sounds screechy and horrible. It grates in my eardrums, and I don’t like it.

  I move my eyes back up to her face and cringe. She’s nothing but three holes. I feel absolutely nothing for her. I wouldn’t care if I never saw her again.

  My cock doesn’t even twitch at the sight of her. I shake my head and take a step toward her. She giggles thinking that this is going somewhere.

  It’s absolutely not.

  I wrap my hand around her bicep and drag her out of the room. I feel her struggling, kicking and screaming, but it doesn’t bother me.

  “Keep your nasty as fuck snatch out of my room, bitch,” I bark slamming the door and locking it behind her.

  I grab the top sheet that she had her naked ass on top of and peel it from my bed, tossing it to the floor before I strip myself down to nothing and fall face down on the mattress.

  What seems like minutes later, I’m woken by the sound of pounding on my door. I stand on wobbly legs, still drunk from the night before, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, as I wrench the door open.

  Dirty Johnny is standing there with a shit eating grin on his face.

  “What the actual fuck, man?” I growl.

  He doesn’t say a word, just starts shaking with laughter.

  “Got a visitor, brother,” he chuckles.

  I slam the door in his face before I grab my jeans and slide them on, along with last night’s shirt and my cut. I pull my boots on quickly before I walk out of my room and toward the common area.

  I groan when I see my visitor.

  Kentlee.

  She’s standing with a hip popped out and her arms folded under her delicious tits, wearing one of her hot as fuck secretary getups.

  My cock presses against my zipper with need, the need to be buried inside of her sweet, wet cunt.

  “C’mon,” I motion to her and watch her eyes narrow.

  I don’t give her a chance to say another word before I’m walking away from her and into my office. Once we’re inside, I close the door behind her and lock it.

  �
�Pierce,” she huffs.

  I hold my hand up as I collapse on the chair in the corner.

  “First, you can’t come in here and bitch me out in front of my brothers. You wouldn’t like how I would have to put you in your place if you did that.

  “You get pissed at me, you run your mouth in private where nobody can hear you. Secondly, I wasn’t fucking around when I said you weren’t allowed here,” I inform her.

  I watch as her spine goes straight and her eyes narrow into slits.

  “Do you give the slightest fuck about me, Pierce?” she asks, going in a completely different direction than I thought this was headed.

  “What is this about?” I ask, not willing to play any games.

  I’m too fuckin’ hung over for that shit.

  “I called you last night when I needed you. Not only did you not answer, but you never returned my call after I left you a voicemail.

  “Then I texted you when I got home, and you never responded to that. You said you’d be over last night, you never showed. I mean, is this what I have to look forward to?” she rattles.

  My head fucking spins.

  “I didn’t listen to your voicemail. I was too fucked up to go anywhere last night. I didn’t even get your text. I passed out drunk and alone,” I clarify, so she doesn’t think I was here getting my rocks off while she was in her bed alone.

  “Well, if you had listened to your voicemail, you would have known that things didn’t go well with my parents. They disowned me, Pierce. My sister gave me a ride to look at houses and then over to their house. I had to walk home, alone, in the dark.

  “I needed a ride last night. More than that, I needed you. My own father told me I had to choose, either abort this baby or be part of his family,” she says.

  She holds her shit together for about a second before tears start falling down her face.

  I don’t think.

  I do.

  I grab her and pull her down into my lap. She shoves her face in my neck and cries.

  I’m the worst kind of man.

  I was busy voting in a war, drinking and smoking. I wasn’t there when she needed me. One of the Bastards could have snatched her up and I wouldn’t even have known about it.

  “I fucked up, baby girl,” I murmur into the top of her hair. “I had some shit go down here and I got drunk.”

  “You’re an asshole,” she mutters as she lifts her face from my neck.

  “Yeah, I already know that shit,” I admit with a grin.

  “I have to go to work now,” she sniffles. I wipe the tears from her eyes with my thumbs.

  Fuck, she’s pretty—even when she’s crying. Those blue eyes pop, and her lips puff out even more from being swollen.

  Christ.

  “Not until I fuck you,” I growl.

  “You smell like a brewery and pot. Were you smoking pot last night?” she asks wide eyed.

  “Uh, yeah, sugar,” I nod as I unbuckle my pants and pull my already hard cock out.

  “You’re a grown ass man, Pierce. You shouldn’t be doin’ that shit anymore,” she admonishes.

  I throw my head back with laughter.

  “Baby girl, I’m grown, so that means I can do whatever the fuck I want. Right now, I want to fuck you, so bend over my desk like a good girl and lift your skirt,” I order.

  I watch her whole body shiver before she narrows her eyes on me as she stands up.

  “I should tell you to fuck off. I mean, I’m so pissed at you right now, Pierce. Seriously, I needed you,” she rambles.

  I don’t hear her because she’s lifting her skirt as she shoves her pretty pink lace panties down her thighs.

  I wrap my arms around her waist and press my cock against her ass.

  Fuck, she’s warm.

  This ass of hers was meant for me.

  Every piece of her was meant for me.

  “I’ll make it up to you, Kentlee. I’m sorry,” I apologize.

  I wait for that bitter taste to flood my taste buds from actually apologizing, something I never do—but it doesn’t.

  It feels okay to apologize to Kentlee when I’ve truthfully done wrong. It doesn’t feel bitter or bad, it just feels good, normal.

  “Make me come and I might forgive you,” she breathes huskily.

  I reach down between her legs to find that she’s already wet.

  Fuck, this bitch is too good to me.

  “I’ll make you scream my name. You’ll ache from my cock all day long, baby girl. Then tonight, I’ll eat that pussy until you can’t take another second. Until you’re screaming for me to stop,” I murmur into her ear as she arches her hips closer to me, tipping herself, searching for my cock.

  I place a kiss behind her ear before gently pushing her down over my desk. Then I plunge deep inside of her.

  I fuck her body the way we both like it.

  Hard and fast.

  Her whimpers fill my office space, along with the sound of my skin slapping against her ass. Fuck, she’s always so good.

  Her cunt is tight and wet, every time.

  I order her to play with her clit. I’m close, I can feel my back begin to tingle with awareness, and I’m going to come soon.

  “Make that pussy squeeze me tight, baby girl,” I demand, trying to hold myself off.

  She’s too much, her noises too loud, her body too tight, and all mine.

  The combination is more than I can handle and when I feel the first pulsing wave of her pussy clamp down around my cock, I let myself go.

  I piston in and out of her with a fever I didn’t think possible, and she screams while I grunt and empty inside of her.

  This pussy is mine, only mine.

  Every time she tries to get mad at me and throws attitude, I’ll need to show her who owns this—who owns her.

  “You okay?” I ask leaning over her body as I continue to fuck her at half-mast. She’s so warm and wet, I could live buried inside her all day—every day.

  “Yeah.” She sighs and I know that, for now, she’s forgiven me and all is well.

  I wonder how many times I can make up for fucking up with sex?

  KENTLEE

  I sit down at my desk and feel the soreness Fury left behind just minutes ago. I was so pissed off and hurt this morning when I drove to the clubhouse. I was hell bent on chewing him a new asshole. Then he looked at me, and like an idiot, I melted.

  I am so weak when it comes to him, already.

  This can’t be good.

  When he apologized, he looked as shocked as I felt at the words. I wonder if he has ever said them before.

  I’m sorry.

  I don’t think that he has.

  The man he is, in the position he is in, I don’t think he is a one who admits mistakes often, if at all—let alone verbally apologizing.

  I sigh, shaking my head out of my daydreams. Pierce is going to be a challenge. My feelings for him are already too strong.

  I’ve done the unthinkable.

  I’ve instantly fallen in love with a rough and dangerous man—a rowdy man.

  I’ve fallen for a man who drinks, smokes, and rides a Harley.

  A man who is an outlaw and does what he wants, consequences be damned.

  I’ve given up my family to give life to a child we created. I am under no illusion that Pierce is tamable, or that this road I am now traveling down will be easy. I hope with all my heart that it will all be worth it in the end.

  “You look pale,” Marcy remarks as she hands me a contract.

  “I uh...I’m not feeling well,” I scramble.

  “What’s up?” she asks.

  I know her and I know she won’t stop asking me questions until she’s satisfied with the answers.

  “I had a fight with the guy I’m dating. We’re moving in together,” I say, hoping it’s enough to pacify her.

  “That’s why you’re getting a bigger place?” she asks as her head dips down at the contract she just wrote up for me.

  “It is,” I
admit. She smiles almost wickedly.

  “The hot as fuck biker. Please tell me you let that fine piece of man put his dick inside of you?” she giggles.

  “Yes. Pierce,” I confess. She jumps up and down, clapping. That’s how our boss finds us.

  “My office, Johnson,” he barks, looking at me with annoyance.

  I wasn’t even the one jumping around. I sigh as I walk into his office, closing the door behind me.

  “What was that all about?” he asks, lacing his fingers together as he places them behind his head.

  “Well, Mr. Walker, I’m pregnant,” I blurt out.

  I can’t keep it from him. I wish I could, but he needs to know. I then watch as his brows shoot up in surprise.

  “Oh, yeah? Well, congratulations, I suppose,” he says, looking unsure of how he is to remark to my situation.

  “Pierce Duhart and I are going to rent the house on Maple together. Marcy was bringing the contract to my desk to sign,” I say. His mouth opens slightly before he shakes his head.

  “You’re with the president of the Notorious Devils?” he asks in surprise.

  “I am,” I nod.

  “The one who just signed that contract to open the titty bar downtown?” he asks.

  I actually feel the blood draining from my face at his words.

  “The what?” I ask breathlessly.

  “Titty bar. That’s what he said it was going to be,” he says, and with the audacity to look sorry for telling me.

  “I–uh–he never told me what he was doing with it. I never thought to ask,” I mumble, more to myself then to Mr. Walker.

  “You look sick. Why don’t you take today off. You can make up for it on Saturday. There’s already a list of ten people who have appointments,” he offers kindly.

  While he’s not really being that kind, I take him up on his offer.

  Titty bar.

  The words ring over and over in my head as I drive home. I shouldn’t care that that’s what he’s doing. I really shouldn’t. But I’m hormonal, and pregnant, and a fucking woman, so of course I goddamn fucking care.

  I slam my hand against my steering wheel before I get out of my car, slamming the door shut. I make my way inside of my house, slamming that door, too.