Notorious Devils MC Complete Collection: BoxSet

by Hayley Faiman

  Pushing open the car door, I slide out of the seat and start to walk toward the back of the car when Derek comes up with my bag in his hand. “I got this, babe,” he murmurs.

  His fingers dance on my lower back before he firmly presses them against me to encourage me to walk forward.

  My high heels click on the walkway as I make my way up to the wooden porch. This morning I decided to wear a gray pencil skirt that I bought last week when I went shopping for a few starter, work outfits.

  My blouse is a white light flowy fabric that I tucked into the waist of the skirt. I kept my hair straight down my back and finished off my outfit with a pretty turquoise statement necklace and my favorite black high heels.

  I wrap my hand around the handle of the front door but Derek’s fingers cover my own and I feel his hard body press against my back, his warm breath against my ear. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you how incredibly gorgeous, and fuckable, you looked today, Ivy,” he murmurs. I squeak in response, but he only laughs as he straightens and then removes his hand from my own. “Inside now, babe,” he grunts.

  My body jolts and I open the door to let myself inside. When I enter the house, I’m surprised by how incredibly quiet it is. The television is on, but it isn’t very loud, more like a low hum. Reid and Remi aren’t lounging on the couch like expected, and that surprises me since it’s usually their favorite hangout.

  A noise in the kitchen startles me and I decide to head in that direction, leaving Derek behind me. Once I step inside of the space I’m shocked to see not only Rosalie but West, cooking. I don’t think I’ve ever seen West cook, not in all of the time we’ve been together. In fact, I didn’t know that he even could.

  “Hey, Mom,” Rosalie smiles as she looks up at me.

  West’s head turns and his eyes lift from his spot at the stove. I wait for him to greet me but he doesn’t. It feels like some sort of failure. Like we’re drifting more and more apart each hour of every day. “What are you guys making? Where are your brothers?” I ask, turning my attention back to Rosalie.

  “They’re outside playing catch. Dad said they couldn’t be lazy asses all night,” she announces. My eyes widen at her words and I hear Derek chuckle behind me. “Me and Dad are making grilled chicken breast, sautéed veggies, rice, and I’m doing garlic bread for the guys,” she grins.

  “It all looks wonderful,” I whisper.

  West clears his throat and my eyes instantly move to him. “Wanted to make something you’d eat. Rosalie told me some of the stuff you been makin’ lately,” he shrugs.

  “I appreciate it,” I whisper.

  I watch as something washes through him but he shakes it off before he straightens. “This stuff’s about done. Chicken’s in the micro keeping warm. There’s enough for you Derek, I’m outta here,” he announces.

  West leaves his post at the stove and walks over to Rosalie. He kisses her on the forehead and then walks toward me. I hold my breath waiting to see what he’ll say or do, but he doesn’t do anything. He breezes right past me as though I don’t even exist.

  I stand there in shock for a full minute. Turning around, I chase after him. He’s already out of the front door by the time I catch up. Wrapping my hand around his wrist I tug on him. He stops and shakes away from my grasp as he thankfully turns around to face me.

  “Really, you’re just going to walk away like that?” I whisper.

  He lowers his head, looking at his boots before he lifts his eyes back up to me. “Yeah, I’d planned on it.”

  “Why are you being so cruel? I know you said it would be easier if I hated you, or if I broke it off, but West what you’re doing is downright mean,” I state.

  West nods once as he plants his hands on his hips. “Yeah, baby, I know. I’m trying to think about shit, and seeing you looking like a fucking sex kitten doesn’t help,” he mutters.

  “Right, because being attracted to your wife is so wrong. Okay, makes perfect fucking sense,” I spit, taking a step back.

  West lets out a sigh as though I’m being so irrational. He doesn’t get it, he doesn’t realize what he’s doing and how confusing and horrible he’s being to me. I’m not sure he really cares all that much either.

  He’s so worried about himself, about how he feels, he’s not thinking about me at all. “I’ve never not been attracted to you, Ivy. That’s not what any of this is about, and you know it.”

  I take a few steps closer to him, my chest brushing his as I tip my head back. “You want other men to touch me, West? You want to watch while they make me come? Is that what you want?” I whisper.

  He growls but doesn’t speak so I continue. “All you have to do is ask, baby. Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

  “Ivy.”

  Lifting to my toes, I press my lips against his without kissing him, just barely touching his mouth with my own. “Whatever will make you happy, West. I love you and I’d do anything for you,” I shamelessly admit.

  He stumbles backward closing his eyes when he does. “That’s not how I want anything to happen. It can’t be just what I want, and I can’t ruin you like that.”

  He storms off without giving me a chance to respond to his statement. He doesn’t know what I really want, hell maybe I don’t know what I really want. I know that I want West, but then there’s Derek waiting in the house and I want his touch and kiss as well.

  Maybe West isn’t so far off with his desires. Maybe there is a part of me that wants it, and the more I think about it, the more excited I get imagining it. But my fucking annoying ass husband won’t talk to me. I raise my hands in the air, giving up on him for the night.

  Making my way back inside the house, I’m shocked to see everybody, including Derek, sitting at the dining room table. “Come and sit down, dinner’s ready,” Rosalie boasts proudly.

  “This all looks so wonderful,” I gush, and it does.

  I sit down to a table full of great food. A beautiful family, and a man who is smiling at me and looking at me as though I’m the most beautiful woman in the world. It’s just too bad that that man is not my husband.

  After we all eat, the kids go up to bed and it’s just me and Derek, alone. I start to clean up the dishes when he presses his front against my back. I can feel his breath against the side of my neck and my body shivers.

  “Derek,” I whisper.

  His hands gently apply pressure to my shoulders and he turns me around. His eyes seer into mine, intensity pouring out of them. Without a word his lips touch mine, tentatively tasting me his tongue sneaks out and slides along my bottom lip.

  My mouth automatically opens, his tongue sliding inside and then I’m lost. Completely lost in a frenzy of teeth, lips, and tongues. That is until I pull away from him.

  “We shouldn’t have,” I rasp.

  Abandoning the dirty dishes, I run. I run away from him, locking myself in my bedroom and panicking.

  Work day five. Nothing’s changed between me, and West, except even more distance. He doesn’t even stay at the house until I get off of work anymore. Tonight, the boys have baseball games and they both told me that he promised he’d be there.

  Then there’s Derek. He’s shown me more attention than West has in years. Not just physically, but emotionally too. He helps me in the evenings with cleaning up dinner and we spend hours talking after the kids go to bed.

  Although the other night, we didn’t talk much, we spent that time kissing. After my freak out, he came upstairs and talked to me. We ended up kissing again, it got seriously hot and heavy. I know that I should feel guilty, but I don’t. There’s something I like about Derek or maybe it’s just that he’s been there for me, and I’ve been alone for so long?

  “The boys have a game tonight, we driving straight there?” Derek asks, placing his hand on the top of my thigh.

  Each day his hand slides further up my leg as we drive to and from work. Today I’m wearing a pair of pencil trousers and his hand rests on the inside of my thigh, just cent
imeters from my center.

  All I can think about is that I want him to touch me there. After the way his tongue moved inside of my mouth last night, I can think of nothing but his touch and tongue running along my entire body.

  “Yeah,” I say clearing my throat. Derek squeezes my leg with a low laugh as he heads toward the ball fields.

  He coughs before pulling into a parking spot and puts the SUV in park, leaving the ignition running. Then he turns to me. I hold my breath knowing exactly what he’s going to ask, and unbelieving that I’m going to answer the way that I am. It’s so wrong, but right now, it feels right.

  “You get the kids set up with a place to stay tonight?”

  Derek asked me last night if I could get the kids out of the house. He wants more from me, and admittedly, I want more from him as well. I want all of him. When I should be focused on what my future is with my husband, all I can think about is Derek, his touch, and his kiss. “I did,” I whisper.

  “We don’t have to do anything,” he murmurs. “I just want to be alone with you. I think we could work, Ivy,” he states.

  His words should make my heart race, and they do, but not because I want the same thing, but because it scares me. I still love West, but I’m immensely attracted to Derek, I’m just not sure if I would want Derek for… more.

  Instead of speaking, I give him a wide smile which he returns before switching the ignition off and stepping out of the car. I don’t wait for him to open my door, I let myself out and start to walk toward the ballfields.

  The closer we get, the more I look around for West. When I spot Rosalie sitting next to West’s mother, I’m a bit taken aback. He isn’t here. This overwhelming disappointment washes over me, this finality. He didn’t come. It slaps me in the face, the fact that we’re not his priority. Though I already knew that I wasn’t his priority. I had hoped that this past week, meant that he was putting the kids first. Now, I’m not so sure.

  “Where’s Dad?” I ask as I climb the bleachers and sit next to Rosalie, my mother-in-law is on the other side of her. Derek climbs up behind me and sits on the other side of me, his thigh pressing against my own.

  Rosalie turns to me and rolls her eyes. “He said he had to work.” She doesn’t sound too convinced that he did, and the fact that it’s Friday night doesn’t help convince me either.

  “Are you all set to go to Finley’s for the night?” I ask.

  I told her that she could spend the night at MadDog and Mary-Anne’s and that tomorrow she could go to the mall with Riley and Finley as I’d promised her last week.

  Rosalie’s face breaks out into a huge smile and she nods her head. “My bag is in the car, I’m ready,” she giggles. “Oh, Remi’s up to bat.”

  Turning my attention to my middle son, I watch as he steps up to the plate and leans heavily on his back foot as he holds the bat up. The child at the pitcher’s mound lifts his leg and throws a hardball right over the sweet spot.

  Remi swings and that familiar crack fills the air as the ball flies out into left centerfield. Remi runs, he doesn’t stop until he gets to third and I’m doing what I normally do, which is jumping up and down screaming for my boy. Derek is standing next to me his pinkie fingers in his mouth and whistling.

  Waiting, I hold my breath when the catcher misses the ball, and Remi takes off for home plate. He slides just as the catcher regains hold of the ball and dives to take him out. I don’t exhale until the ump calls Remi safe. Then we all stand and scream once more.

  “The boys are with me tonight?” my mother-in-law asks a few minutes later once we’ve all settled down from Remi stealing home.

  I nod and that guilt washes over me again when her eyes shift from Derek then back to me. “Okay. They’ll have fun, I’ll keep them late Saturday so you can rest, and have some time to yourself, too,” she murmurs.

  We don’t speak again as we watch the game and the longer it goes on, the more pissed off I am at West. He’s proving to me over, and over, just how little he really cares about us.

  Fuck him.

  I decide immediately that I want to find out just what Derek has to offer tonight. It’s obvious that my marriage is over, and if I’m being honest it’s been over for a really long time.

  Chapter Twelve

  CAMO

  I can’t believe this shit. Not only did I have to load up this fucking truck last night, all the while I felt like I was fucking being watched. It was creepy as shit. I couldn’t shake it either, not the entire night. Tinker is puking his guts out and he was scheduled to drive it to Denver.

  An eighteen-hour one-way fucking trip. I’m too high on the goddamn food chain to have to do this shit. Normally, I wouldn’t be as angry as I am, but I’m missing my boys’ baseball game and I wanted to spend some time with Ivy this weekend.

  I’ve finally made my decision about us. I’m going to leave her. She’s better off without me, and my bullshit fucking up her life. Then again, she always was, and I just continued to fuck with her over and over, again.

  Driving toward Colorado, I find it hard to breathe just thinking about ending my marriage. Then I think about what it’ll be like to denounce her as my Old Lady and it causes me to tighten my grip on the truck’s steering wheel as anger courses through me.

  “You okay, brother?” Soar asks from the passenger side. He’s too high on the food chain to be on this trip too, as the treasurer, but apparently all the available people have found a way out of it. I grunt as I nod my head a couple times but he clears his throat. “Bullshit.”

  We don’t speak again until after we’ve made a pit stop and fueled the truck. Soar glances at me a few times, I can feel his fucking eyes on me and I know he wants to speak. “Just say it.”

  “I think you’re making a big fucking mistake. I think you’ve been making some big mistakes,” he announces.

  I chuckle. “Way to go gentle,” I mutter.

  “I’m your brother, so I’m not going in gentle. I’m gonna lay it out there for you. I know Grease has tried and so have a couple of the other guys but Camo, you’re fucking up.”

  He’s one hundred percent correct, I am fucking up, and I know it but I keep doing it. It’s like I can’t fucking help myself. I’ve completely abandoned my family, and even when I tried to be there for them, I still missed my sons’ baseball games.

  I could have tried harder to get someone else to come on this trip, but I didn’t. I felt the need to be there for my club over the need to be there for my family, and I don’t know how to fix that inside of me.

  “All knowing, all wise, Soar. Why don’t you tell me how to fix my shit then?” I bark.

  Soar laughs, he doesn’t chuckle, he fucking laughs and it pisses me off. I pull the truck over to the side of the road. Once I’ve thrown it into park I open the door and hop out, walking around to the passenger side. Soar is already down as well and waiting for me by the time I arrive.

  “You want to know how to fix it?” he asks taunting me.

  Lifting my chin, I let my arms dangle loosely at my sides. “Yeah fucker, explain shit to me, because I’ve been trying to figure out how to make it all work. The only thing I’ve come up with is to file for divorce.” The words tumble from my lips and they taste fucking bitter with every word I say.

  “You’re a pussy,” Soar spits. “It’s cool brother, I was one for years so I fucking get it. But face facts. You’re a goddamn pussy.”

  Shaking my head, I wrap my hand around the back of my neck and let my eyes close for just a second before I reopen them. “Not a pussy, Soar,” I grunt.

  “Yeah? You sure? From where I’m standing you’re a fucking pussy. You have a beautiful wife, three awesome kids and you’re worried about what? Some kink you’ve recently discovered. I bet if you would bring that shit up with Ivy she’d at least give it a go, for you. What are you willing to do for her?” he asks.

  Without thinking I pull my arm back, making a fist with my hand and I punch him in the jaw. Soar’s whole head
turns to the side before I lean forward and whisper.

  “I’m willing to not fucking break my wife, Soar. I would think you of all people could understand not wanting to hurt someone you love? Or maybe you can’t.”

  “Fuck you, Camo. You think you’re saving her?” he hisses. “You’re not a martyr. You’re just as selfish as the rest of us.” He grunts.

  We stare at each other for a few minutes, neither one of us speaking and then Soar breaks the silence. “Now let’s get the fuck to Denver and back home. You hit me ever again and I’ll pull a knife on you, don’t fuck with me.”

  “You’re crazy,” I murmur as I head toward the back of the truck.

  Soar laughs. “I may be crazy, but brother, my face is too pretty to be battered. My Genny likes it unmarred. So you hit me again, I’m shanking your ass.”

  I’m unable to stop myself from bursting out laughing. I jog toward the driver’s seat and for the next eight hours, I’m stuck inside of my own head.

  I think about Ivy, and if what I’m doing by leaving her is more selfish than asking her to try playing in the free-for-all room with me. I think they’re both selfish really, Soar was right in that regard. Leaving her is being selfish too. Distancing myself from her is no better.

  I need to find a way to make us both happy. Maybe Grease was onto something when he mentioned finding, and having boundaries, that we can both agree on. If it’s something she’s willing to try, which she’s expressed she is, then maybe we can truly discuss it.

  At the end of the day, when all is said and done, I truly do love my wife. I don’t want to throw us away without giving it a fair go.

  Maybe she’ll hate me after we experiment, maybe I’ll hate me. I don’t know. But what I do know is that running away from everything isn’t really the answer. I need to put my personal life first, my wife and my children.