“I want another baby.”
MARY-ANNE
“Are you crazy?” I ask as my eyes widen.
Riley is six weeks old, six, and he’s talking to me about another baby already. I feel panic rising throughout my body just at the thought.
“I’m sixty-one, sweetness.”
I bite my bottom lip. He doesn’t need to say anything else. The look on his face, the worry, it says everything to me. He’s afraid he’ll be too old to enjoy them if we wait.
I must be a special kind of stupid, or maybe I’m just that in love with my husband. I don’t want to see him worry, ever. It isn’t natural for him, and it makes me feel shitty, so I smile widely.
“Boy or girl?” I ask, turning to him.
“Doesn’t matter,” he says, his voice soft.
I love it when he gentles his voice, when it’s soft and sweet like this. It’s the way he talks to Riley, and me too, when we’re alone.
“Okay,” I whisper as I reach out and cup his bearded jaw.
“How on fuckin’ earth did I end up with an angel like you?”
“Lucky bastard,” I giggle as I switch Riley to my other breast.
“Fuck, yeah I am,” he laughs.
Once Riley is fed, Max burps her and takes her back to bed for me. I slide down between the sheets and lie down, pulling the covers over my naked body.
I’ve been so uncomfortable in my skin since having her. Granted, it’s only been six weeks, but I’m not used to feeling this way.
But something switched inside of me tonight. Maybe it was the way Max held me, maybe it was the way his eyes couldn’t take in enough of me while his face was buried between my legs. I don’t know, but I suddenly feel, good—maybe even a little bit sexy.
A few minutes later, Max walks in and casually wraps his fist in the sheets before he yanks the covers off of me.
“Hey,” I protest, sitting straight up and trying to reach for the bedding.
“I’m not finished with you yet,” he growls as he drops his boxers and crawls toward me.
“Maxfield,” I gasp as his hands wrap around my ankles and he yanks me toward him, spreading my legs as he does.
“Gonna fill you with a son tonight, sweetness,” he whispers against my lips.
“Oh, Max,” I moan arching my back when he thrusts inside of me with one quick move.
“I love you, Mary,” he whispers against my lips as he takes me, fills me, and owns me like only he can.
“I love you, too, Maxfield,” I whimper.
He wraps his hand around the ink on my thigh, the ink that claims me as his. Then he intertwines his fingers with mine, the hand where my wedding ring claims me as his as well. His eyes focus on mine unwaveringly as he fucks me, hard and slow.
“Most beautiful fuckin’ woman on this goddamn earth, and she’s all mine,” he rasps.
When I come, it’s on a sob, the emotions of the evening too great for me to feel anything but over-the-top bliss.
SIX WEEKS LATER
I look at the little stick and blink in surprise. Max didn’t lie when he said he was going to fill me with another baby. I don’t even want to think about the math, about how old Riley is going to be when this baby is born. I’ll probably panic if I do.
Instead, I smile. I might be freaked out and scared, but I’m also elated and excited all at the same time.
“Sweetness, what the fuck are you doin’? We’re supposed to be leaving right now,” Max calls out as he walks into the bathroom.
I look up at him and smile, holding up the pregnancy test. His eyes drop to my hand as he takes a step closer. It’s easily read, the word pregnant is printed on it. I watch as his lips begin to curl, and then they go from a grin to a blinding white smile.
“Seriously?” he asks unable to stop smiling.
I nod.
“Fuck, yes,” he cheers before he reaches down and picks me up, burying his face in my neck. “Fuck, yes, sweetness,” he whispers. “I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too,” I cry.
The love of my life.
My husband.
My Old Man.
Rough & Reckless
A Notorious Devils Short Story
Part One
WEST
Grease stares at me.
It isn’t a stare so much as a glare. I don’t look away. I don’t shift my eyes or back down, even though the dude is one of the ugliest motherfuckers I have ever seen in my entire goddamn life.
“I need you to be protection for my sister,” he announces.
“Protection from what?” I ask, arching a brow.
“Some fucker ex is harassing her. He’s followed her to her car a few times, harassing her outside of her work. I need presence there,” he shrugs.
“Okay,” I mutter. Easy job. Way easier than some of the fucking shit jobs they usually make us do around here.
I’m a prospect for the motorcycle club, the Notorious Devils—the original chapter. It’s a big fucking deal, and I’ll do whatever this ugly bastard wants me to so that I can earn my patch.
At twenty-two, I’m one of the oldest prospects waiting for my shot to patch-in. I wandered for a while after high school, trying my hand at college, then working, and finally this. This is where I was meant to be, with an entire family of brothers at my back.
“Ivy is off fucking limits; do you understand me?” he growls.
I almost laugh in his fucking ugly as shit face, but I don’t. No way in fuck is his sister going to be anything I’d want to sink my cock into, not if she looks anything like him.
“Understood,” I grunt as I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
“She works at Carlotta’s, off at three in the morning. I expect you there at two, and I expect you to escort her home, following behind her car on your bike until she’s inside of her place, starting tonight,” he instructs.
I nod my agreement then stand and turn to leave.
“Off fucking limits, prospect,” he growls before stomping away.
“You watching over Grease’s baby sister?” MadDog, the charter’s president, asks.
“Yeah,” I grunt, lifting my hand to rub the back of my neck.
“She’s feisty. Good luck with that one,” he chuckles.
I lift my chin as I walk away from him.
My assignment doesn’t start until two. I have a few hours, but I need to get out of this stuffy as shit clubhouse.
I’ve been cooped up, cleaning up after these fuckig pigs since a big ass party they had a few days ago.
Grunt work is a pain in the ass, but I know that the reward will be sweet once I’m patched in as a member.
I straddle my bike and start the engine, feeling her purr between my thighs before I take off into the pitch black night.
Our clubhouse is in the middle of nowhere, between two towns, and about an hour away from the city.
Northern California is a gorgeous sight to see, day or night. Tonight, it’s fucking epic. The air is crisp and clean. It smells like the trees that surround us and the lake that isn’t too far from here.
Country living at its finest in the most beautiful part of the state. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.
My bike hugs each curve as I wind down through the mountains toward my destination.
Carlotta’s is a little dessert place in the middle of the downtown area. It’s a hopping little spot, especially during the summer and winter months when tourists come to our quaint area and pretend to be enamored by our little towns and villages.
There’s parking right in front, and I don’t hesitate to pull my bike into a vacant stall. I switch off the motor and stare into the shop’s front window.
It’s a cute little place, but nowhere I would go. They serve fancy ass desserts and coffees. My sisters and mom love it, and they’ve talked about it often; but seeing as I have a dick, I’ve never stepped foot in the place.
IVY
“Are you fucking k
idding me right now?” I breathe as I glance up at the motorcycle that’s just pulled up and parked right in front of the shop.
The man straddling it isn’t my brother, so I guess I should be grateful for that much. I can’t see his face, but he has a full beard, and he’s much thinner than my brother is—like half his size. My brother has a taste for food and he doesn’t shy away from it, ever.
My eyes drift to the stranger’s thighs, and I swear my belly clenches. I love thick thighs on a man. For whatever reason, I attribute that to his strength, and this guy has thighs that make me weak in the knees.
“Who’s that?” Carlotta of Carlotta’s, my boss and the owner of the shop, asks from behind me.
“Someone my brother knows,” I sigh, turning away from the rough biker that’s darkening our front parking area.
“What’s he doing here?” she asks, arching a brow.
Carlotta knows who my brother is. I love her for not judging me because of him, but I’ve also warned him to keep himself and his shit away from my place of business.
I don’t want anything to do with their illegal bullshit of a gang. Oh, he’d be all over my ass if he knew that’s what I thought of his little group. In my head, I scream the word gang all day long in reference to their club.
“Adam has been bothering me, following me around. I think this is my brother’s way of protecting me or something,” I shrug.
“Could be worse. He could not give a shit,” Carlotta shrugs before she turns to head to the back.
I think about her words. Yeah, it could be worse. Barry could not give one shit about me. I’ve given him plenty of lip to wash his hands of me, but he hasn’t yet. Maybe it was some dying wish of my father’s, to keep me safe or something?
I chuckle to myself. Yeah, right.
The only thing my dad probably wished for on his deathbed was another shot of whiskey and maybe some nasty slut to be at his side.
For the next two hours, I try to ignore the man on the bike. I can feel his eyes scanning the window. I know he can’t really see anything but shapes through the tinted glass, but I can still feel his presence.
Something calls me to him, and I try to shake the feeling. He’s definitely not the kind of man I need to be around.
“Go ahead and go home, girl,” Carlotta says from the back.
The shop is completely dead, and it’s only fifteen minutes until closing.
“I’ll help clean up,” I shrug as I take a broom from the side of the counter and start to sweep.
“Seriously. Joey will be here any minute to get me; you can sweep up before we open tomorrow. Get out of here,” she urges.
I thank her and walk over to the counter, grabbing my purse before I remove my apron and hang it up. I walk over to the door and take a deep breath, unsure of who is waiting for me on the other side.
I would hope that my brother would send someone he trusts to protect me, but it’s Barry, so who knows. He’s always been a wildcard.
WEST
I watch the door open, fully prepared to see one ugly as shit chick—but that’s not who steps outside of the little dessert shop. The woman is tall, but her curves are plentiful. Fuck me, her tits alone make my mouth water.
There’s way too much for me to look at. Waist, full hips, and her thighs—fuck, I could bury my face between them for hours. Everything about her is tempting. She was made to be fucked.
“So you’re who Barry sent, huh?” she asks. My eyes snap up to meet hers.
She’s gorgeous, with a round face and long honey colored hair. It looks soft as shit too.
“West,” I grunt, trying to keep my dick under control. It’s two seconds from finding its way out of my pants and inside of her cunt.
I stand and swing my leg over my bike, dismounting before I make my way to her side. She’s tall for a woman; but at six-foot-three, she still stands a head shorter than me.
“Where’s your car, babe?” I ask.
“Babe?” she scrunches her nose.
“Yeah,” I grunt.
“My name is Ivy,” she huffs as she starts to walk away from me.
I let her, not for any reason except wanting to watch her sweet ass move beneath her tight skirt.
“I’ll follow you home as well,” I announce as she unlocks her car.
It’s a little piece of shit Ford Focus, and I wonder what in the fuck Grease is doing. He’s obviously not taking care of his sister.
I cringe when it sounds like metal scraping together as the engine starts. She needs a new ride and fucking fast, winter is just around the corner and there’s no way in fuck this junk heap is going to last the harsh snow season that is on its way.
“I don’t live far,” she says.
“Wait for me. I don’t have your address,” I grunt.
To my amazement, she nods and doesn’t attempt to back out of the parking stall. I jog to my bike and snap my helmet on as I start the engine and then pull out and wait for her. She slowly backs up and then takes off away from downtown.
She pulls into a tiny little house on the edge of town and my eyes narrow. The street is black, not one streetlight in sight, and the house itself is also dark.
It isn’t safe.
There are trees and shrubs all around. Someone could just lie in wait for her, and nobody would probably even hear her scream. She’s pretty fucking isolated out here.
“Thank you,” she calls out as she walks toward her front door.
I shake my head as I jog up to her. Ivy’s sliding her key into the door just as I catch up to her, and I wrap my hand around hers before I gently squeeze.
“Wh—,” she tries to speak, but I don’t let her.
I turn the key and leave her on the porch as I clear her house, turning on every light and checking every single room and closet for a possible intruder.
“Why’d you do that?” she asks from the living room as I make my way back to her.
“You live out in the fucking boonies. Anybody could be waiting for you,” I announce.
“Adam wouldn’t just walk inside of my house,” she balks.
“Adam?” I ask.
“My ex, Adam, the guy who’s been bothering me,” she explains.
“Grease didn’t tell me who it was, just said it was some guy bothering you after work,” I grumble as I rub the back of my neck.
“Barry doesn’t really listen to me,” she murmurs.
“Look, you want me to stick around for a while?” I ask, not wanting to leave her out here all alone.
“No, I’ll be okay.”
“All right, babe. You workin’ tomorrow night?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’ll be off at the same time,” she sighs. She looks beat to shit.
“See ya then. Lock up behind me,” I order before I turn and walk away from her.
I have to walk away. If I don’t, I’ll fuck the shit out of her right there on her living room floor. She’s the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
A fucking hard-on in heels, and she’s off-fucking-limits. To do anything would be reckless as shit.
IVY
I press my back against my front door and pinch my eyes closed. Holy shit, West is beautiful. Like full on gorgeous. His dark, little-too-long and messy helmet hair, his full dark beard, and his eyes black as night.
I don’t even want to think about his body—about his height, or how wide his shoulders are, and how trim his waist is, or the way his jeans hug his thick thighs.
I shake my head, trying to rid myself of his image as I make my way toward my bathroom to shower before bed.
I want him. I want the bad boy, and I’m not sure I give one fuck that he’s everything I’ve ever steered clear from.
I throw the covers off of my sweaty body and let out a huff of air. It’s not even hot, and yet here I am, covered in sweat. I’d like to say it’s because I had some creepy nightmare, but no—I had a sex dream.
West was the star, and he was spectacular. Well, his mouth was. I could even
feel his beard against my thighs. It felt so real; and just when I was about to come, my eyes popped open.
I try to sleep for a few more minutes, but I can’t. Instead, I get up and dress for some yoga. Cardio isn’t really my thing, but I like yoga. It distresses and calms me.
I hope that it can clear my mind of the sexy biker that’s taken residence front and center since last night. I don’t even like bikers. Yet, one look at West and I was panting like one of their little groupies.
After an hour of yoga, I’m panting for a different reason. I feel rejuvenated and revitalized, but I still have that feeling in my belly that makes me think of him.
I spend the rest of the day cleaning my house. In reality, I’m trying to purge that sexy as shit man from my head.
It doesn’t work.
By the time I am dressed and headed toward Carlotta’s, I’m feeling nothing but ridiculous giddy excitement at the fact that I’ll be seeing him again tonight.
I’m so stupid.
Well, my head is smart. My body is stupid as all hell. It still wants that man that I know is going to do nothing but fuck me and leave me. It’s their MO. It’s what they do, men like my brother. Men like my father.
Men like West.
Notorious Devils.
I watched my father go through women like he was changing underwear. It was always one right after the other. Between that and his whiskey habit, I knew the kind of man I didn’t want. A man exactly like West.
“Your head’s in the clouds,” Carlotta clucks as she starts to fill the dessert cabinet with delicious treats.
“Want to go get a drink tomorrow night?” I blurt out.
Tomorrow is Sunday, and Carlotta’s is closed.
“Yeah, I could use a night out,” she agrees with a smile.
The rest of the night, we’re slammed from open to close. There’s not one minute that I’m even available to think about West and his sexiness. That is, until he walks in, about one minute before closing, as I’m walking over to the door to lock it.
Notorious Devils MC Complete Collection: BoxSet Page 110