Ellie and I had our moments of blissful happiness, but we had our moments of complete turmoil, too. I start flipping through the pages and see where there are some of those bitter, turmoil years captured.
Her eyes give her away. They always did. When we were good, we were fucking great; but when things were bad, I avoided and ignored her.
Young and dumb is exactly how I would describe myself back then, and the way I handled our relationship. To her credit, Ellie fought to be at my side, fought for that Old Lady status, and was a fucking great one, too.
I just wish that I would have treated her better over the years, and that I wouldn’t have nailed every piece of ass I could find the moment she was dead. It was a shitty way to cope with a broken heart, and an even shittier example for my teenage son.
I close the album, the memories better left as just that—memories. I look around my space again, taking in all of the elements of the room, Mary-Anne’s things commingled with mine, and I smile. I like her being mixed in my life—being part of me. It feels good, it feels right.
MARY-ANNE
After Teeny dropped me off at home with nothing more than a look of concern on her face, I thanked her and went inside.
She was curious as to why I didn’t go to the party, knowing about the Kisha thing, and the fact that it could possibly happen again.
I looked at her and told her, flat-out, that I wasn’t MadDog’s baby sitter. If he wanted to fuck other women, that was on him; and if I found out, I’d just leave.
She bit her lip, worrying it before she whispered something that sent chills down my spine.
“You don’t leave them, Mary. If you do, he’ll just drag you back. Only if he’s done with you will he release you; but you can never be with another man again, not unless you have his permission.”
I didn’t bother responding to her. Her words scared me, and I wondered just what the hell I got myself into with Max.
I spend the rest of the evening just staring at the television, a movie I’m not listening to playing in the background while I think.
I wonder why I let him talk me into the thigh tattoo, and why on earth I thought it was a good idea to get a tattoo on my pussy. I’m such an impulsive idiot.
The front door bursts open and Max stands there, his eyes taking me in, his head tipping to the side before he kicks the door closed and walks over to me.
Without a word, he plucks me off of the couch and carries me upstairs. I’m wearing a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, having showered when I arrived home much earlier.
“Max,” I whisper.
“Quiet.”
I look into his eyes and see that they’re heated. No, they’re on fire as he sets me down on my feet. He tips his head to the side, a move he did downstairs, and it’s no less intimidating now. I don’t move, and I certainly don’t speak. His hands move to me and I gasp when he rips my sleep tank—In. Half!
My breasts are exposed, and he nods down to my shorts. I quickly remove them myself, my thigh and pussy still tender from my fresh ink.
“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing,” he starts. I open my mouth to reply, but his hand comes up to silence me. “But I’m not playing games here, Mary. You’re mine. Branded, marked, and claimed. It doesn’t go away, you don’t walk away, and what we have—it doesn’t just fucking end. You’re a big enough girl that you have to realize this.”
I nod, afraid to speak—deathly afraid.
“It’s my job to protect you, and to care for you and your wellbeing. It’s not my fucking job to sugar coat shit. This life ain’t an easy one, and being my Old Lady sure as fuck isn’t a walk in the damn park. But you won’t leave me, not now, not ever,” he growls.
“I’m not playing any games,” I whisper my lie.
“Yeah, sweetness, you thought you were. Did you think by not coming tonight, I’d fuck a whore, and it’d give you license to walk out the door?”
I blink up at him. I was giving him rope to hang himself tonight, it’s true. I was also trying not to be that clingy girl that is afraid her man is going to fuck around if she’s not there.
It’s not that I think he’s going to; it’s not that I think all men do; it’s not even that I know he’s going to. I honestly don’t think he slept with Kisha. She was a little too proud and boastful—too happy to tell me all about it.
However, I know he slept around on his wife, a woman he claimed to love, to love so deeply that it’s been thirty years and not once has he attempted to even date a woman—before now.
So my hope that he’ll be committed and faithful to me? That’s not real strong.
How am I any different than Eleanora? I’m not.
I know that, eventually, he’ll cheat on me. He’ll be with someone else, even if his intentions are great and honorable. I just don’t think that he can keep his cock in his pants.
“Why me?” I ask.
“Are you fishing for compliments?”
I shake my head, unsure of how to answer that. I’m not fishing for compliments, not really. I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that he wants me—me. After all of these years, he claims he’s just going to give up all other women for—me.
“Whatever sick shit you have swimmin’ in your head, sweetness, you gotta get that out now. You’re mine because you’re you. You’re sweet, soft, and when you smile, those blue eyes sparkle. You’ve been dealt fuckin’ shit, and it’s as if it hasn’t touched you. I want to keep you at my side, I want to fuck you every night, put a couple babies inside you, and keep you happy,” he rasps, pulling me up off of the floor and into his arms.
“I don’t want children,” I whisper.
“Bullshit,” he snorts. “You’re almost thirty.”
“I don’t want them, not ever. I have nieces, and you have grandchildren, and that’s just good enough.”
“I’m giving you babies, Mary,” he insists before his head slants and his lips press against mine.
I don’t get a chance to argue for another second. Max spins me around and practically tosses me face first on the bed, my feet still firmly on the ground.
I hear his pants whoosh to the floor and his hands wrap around my hips before he thrusts inside of me with one quick pump of his hips.
“Max,” I cry out in surprise and pain.
He doesn’t respond, one of his hands leaving my hip to slide to the front of my body and firmly grab my breast before he yanks me up against his chest.
I lie my head back and gasp when he picks me up, his cock still buried inside of me, and orders me to bend my knees as he lets me rest them on the bed.
“Shit went down tonight,” he grunts before he pulls out of me slightly and thrusts back inside. His other hand leaves my hip and he presses his finger against my clit.
I gasp at the sensation of his finger and his words.
“A man touches you, touches what’s mine—he dies,” Max growls in my ear as his cock continues to slam inside of me, unforgivingly hard and primal. I have no clue what he’s talking about, and right now, I could care less.
“Maxfield,” I moan as my head rolls on his shoulder, my breast aching from his strong grip.
“Nobody touches you, Mary,” he rasps as his grip tightens even more. I’ll surely have bruises tomorrow, but I could give a damn, the pain feels so good. “You’re mine. No other women, no other men—just us, sweetness.” He whispers.
Max starts to play faster and harder with my clit, and I feel my body climbing as he fucks me with all of his strength. I thought he was being rough with me until this moment. Now I know, he’s been gentle.
His pounding thrusts send a mix of pleasure and pain throughout my body, confusing my senses and heightening them all at the same time. I want more, but I’m on the verge of begging him to stop.
“Come on my cock. Make that cunt strangle me, my sweet Mary,” he rasps huskily in my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
I reach up and grip his forearm as I move agains
t his finger at my clit. I moan again when I sense my climax on the verge of toppling over, and when it rushes through my body, I cry out a sob.
Max doesn’t stop, his grip on my breast even tighter, and his thrusts inside of me even harder. Then he stills before he lets out a roar and fills me with his cum.
“Maxfield,” I whisper.
Max gently releases me and eases out of, my center, before he picks me up. I stare at him with surprise as he carries me into the bathroom, wordlessly.
He sets me down on the edge of the sink and grabs a cloth, running it under warm water. I spread my legs when I think he’s going to clean me, but he slides two fingers inside of my sensitive center instead.
“I’m going to plant my kids in your belly, sweetness,” he rumbles.
“Max—.”
“Honest to fuck, Mary. If you spew some bullshit about not wanting them because your father was shit, it’ll just piss me off. You love kids. You took care of Bear as an infant,” he points out before he removes his finger and cleans his cum from my center.
“Yes, I love them. That doesn’t mean that I want my own,” I announce as I stand and walk away from him.
Max wraps his hand around my bicep, firmly but not tightly, before he tugs me back and presses me against the wall with his naked body.
“Tell me the reason, Mary, the real one,” he rumbles.
“I’m afraid,” I whisper as tears fill my eyes.
I’m not afraid, though—I’m terrified.
Max is right. My father was shit, and my mother his doormat punching bag. I wouldn’t know how to be a mother. I would only know how to keep a baby alive. I wouldn’t know how to love and nurture one. I shake my head, wishing the tears wouldn’t fall as I stare up at him.
“You decided to get with me because you thought I wouldn’t want more kids?” he asks, taking his guess and doing it correctly.
I nod, agreeing partially with him. I never cared about his age, it was never really about being with him because he’s a lot older. Though, I won’t deny that it was slightly appealing, once I realized that he probably wouldn’t want a bigger family. He’s always just felt right to me.
“And now?” he asks, arching a brow. “Why are you with me now? Why did you get my ink?”
“You feel right,” I whisper.
“Yeah, sweetness. You feel right, too. That means that we need babies,” he grunts.
I shake my head again, but he just smirks down at me.
“I didn’t give Eleanora more kids because I was too busy with the club, and I didn’t want more responsibilities. It was a shit thing to do, selfish as fuck, too. But after she died and it was just me and Pierce, I realized I wanted more. Now, with grandkids, they fill some of that void, sweetness, but I still want more,” he murmurs as his lips brush mine.
“Maxfield,” I exhale.
“Make me a daddy again, Mary.”
I let my head fall back against the wall just as he grabs the back of my knee and wraps it around his hip before he grinds his semi-erect cock against my sensitive clit.
“Max,” I moan, lifting my head and opening my eyes to look into his.
Those blue eyes are staring at me, fire and intensity surging through them. Right now, I want to give him everything he desires. He isn’t holding back, he’s giving me everything, his emotions swirling beneath his bright blue eyes.
“I want all of you, Mary,” he grunts.
“You have me,” I whisper, wrapping my hand around the back of his neck. I don’t know if I’m trying to convince him or myself—or maybe the both of us.
“Let me give you all of me,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against mine. “Let me give you a baby,” he says, his lips touching mine with every word spoken.
“I’m scared.”
“I’ll take care of you, sweetness,” he murmurs before I feel his dick slowly enter me.
I don’t say another word, and neither does he. He fucks me against the bathroom wall, slow and gentle. His lips touch mine the entire time, but we’re not kissing, just barely touching.
My breasts are smashed against his strong chest, my leg wrapped around his waist, taking him inside of me with the slow, sensual roll of his hips. I know he’s close when his hand snakes between our bodies and his thumb presses against my clit.
I gasp as soon as I come around him, the climax taking me by surprise. A few thrusts later, he groans with his own release. I wait for him to slide out of me, but he doesn’t; he stays firmly planted inside as his head moves to my neck and he nuzzles me there.
“Have my babies, Mary,” he mutters against my skin.
I close my eyes, afraid to speak. I want to tell him yes. Oh, my god, do I want to tell him yes—but it’s been weeks. We’ve been together only weeks, and children, they’re more permanent than this new ink on my body.
I can’t just agree to something that he wants. What happens when he doesn’t want me anymore? What happens when he decides I’m not for him?
I climb into bed, naked. Max crawls in behind me and wraps his arms around the front of my body, pulling me back into his chest. His lips touch the back of my neck before he whispers into the dark room.
“You’re mine, Mary. That ain’t changing. Ever.”
Chapter Sixteen
MARY-ANNE
It’s been a week since Max informed me about my true place, what I truly am to him that moment I accepted his ink on my thigh.
I expected him to start acting a bit differently toward me, especially the way he said I was his and I was never allowed to leave, confirming what Teeny had already told me in the car.
I expected him to be a little rougher with me, maybe, slap me around a little; and I expected him to be at the clubhouse doing every whore he wanted to.
But none of that has happened.
In fact, he’s been spending more time with me.
They have a run coming up, whatever that means, and he’s going to be there for the first one, a two-week trip. He says he wants to spend as much time with me before he leaves as possible.
It’s sweet, in his own gruff way. He’s still at the clubhouse every day, and now that there’s wifi at the house and I have a little office set up, I don’t have to go down there.
Tonight, though, there’s a party. It’s a party to kind of sendoff the men that are going on this run. Max being one of them, he’s asked me to join. I also know that all of the other Old Ladies are going to be there, so I feel a bit better about it.
He hasn’t mentioned any whores to me, and I haven’t asked. It’s still a sore subject in my eyes, and maybe nothing will come of what they said in the bathroom, but I’m not convinced. That blonde bitch is plotting.
“Ready?” Max calls out as he walks into the bedroom.
“Yeah,” I say with a nod.
I’m not wearing anything special—a pair of skin tight, black jeans, black high heels, and a white loose fitting tank top. My hair is straight and down, my makeup a little heavier than daytime, and that’s it.
Max’s eyes widen at the sight of me, and he stomps toward me, crowding me until I am forced to tip my head all the way back to look at him in the face.
“You look hot as fuck,” he grunts.
“Max, I’m in jeans and a tank,” I point out.
“Tight as sin jeans, and a tank that is so low, it shows off your tits in a way where I’ll have a hard time keeping my eyes off of them all night. I can’t imagine what the other guys will be thinking,” he grunts as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his hard body.
“They won’t think a thing of it. I’m sure your other girls will have it all out for them to touch and play with,” I say haughtily.
“Don’t even go there. You’re a woman, a gorgeous woman. They’re used for the sum of their parts and nothing else; but you’re someone any man would be lucky to share a life with. Why do you think I grabbed you and refuse to let you go?” he asks.
While I have mixed feelings about everything h
e’s said, I can’t help but be flattered by it too.
I shake my head before I press my lips to his, and with a squeeze and a slap to my ass, we’re off to the party.
The parking lot is full, but I’m surprised that there aren’t more cars here, only bikes. I ask Max about that, and he informs me that this party is for brothers only, no hangarounds, the exception being a couple girls from town who aren’t clubwhores.
Once we walk inside, I notice that it’s wild but not insane. The vibe is very chill, laid back, and I let out an exhale of relief.
Max walks us to the bar and grabs a couple of beers before he guides me over to an area where I see Colleen, Bobbie, and Teeny standing with who I presume to be their men.
It suddenly dawns on me that I’ve had no clue who their actual men are this whole time. I giggle to myself before I take the first sip of my beer.
I’m curled into Max’s side, his hand resting on my hip, when I see two people walk up to us. One is a guy that I know as West, and the other a young girl, probably around twenty, in a short miniskirt and high heels. She looks extremely nervous, and I smile at her.
“Hey, everyone, this is Ivy,” West announces.
The circle of people introduce themselves and their women, and then Max introduces me to her. The entire time she’s looking at Max with this stare full of shock and awe on her face. I can’t help but laugh. I gaze at him the exact same way.
My Old Man is hot as hell.
We all turn back to our conversation and I hear her gasp before I watch her walk over to Grease, who is bellied up to the bar. I feel West tense at my side, and I look at him with confusion.
“That’s her brother,” Max murmurs into my ear. “He beat the shit out of West because he told him his sister was off limits and West went there anyway.”
My eyes widen and I turn to him.
“Will that happen with you and Bates?” I ask.
Max throws back his head in laughter. He laughs long and hard, until he finally controls himself and then speaks.
Notorious Devils MC Complete Collection: BoxSet Page 97