Rough & Rugged (Notorious Devils Book 3) (42 page)

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Authors: Hayley Faiman

Tags: #Notorious Devils MC #3

BOOK: Rough & Rugged (Notorious Devils Book 3)

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“I want to make you as happy as you’ve made me, Johnny,” she murmurs.

I charge her like a fucking bull. I back her up against the wall and I wrap my palms around her cheeks as I kiss her. I press my lips to hers, hard and unrelenting, and I kiss the fuck out of the woman I love. Then I press my forehead to hers before I speak.

“You already make me happy. I’m the happiest motherfucker in the world just having you at my side. Giving me a baby will just add to the happiness; but you don’t have to, not until you’re ready,” I say quietly.

“I love you so much, Johnny. You’re making my dreams come true, just as you’ve promised. You endure Sunday dinners with my family, you provide for me, and you’ve done all of this. How can I not give you that? How can I not give this world more of you?” she says.

“If you’re ready, Hattie, then I’m more than willing to take this journey with you.”

“I didn’t make this decision lightly. I’m ready to give you a family, Johnny. I’m ready to make your dreams come true.”

I kiss her again.

I kiss her to shut her up, because if she says anything else, I’m going to break down like a little bitch right here in front of her.

This woman.

This woman is mine and she’s giving me everything I could ever want.

She is everything I could ever want.

The future is going to be fuckin’ sweet, and I can’t wait.

ROUGH & RUTHLESS

Notorious Devils MC Novel

Mary-Anne

T
here’s nothing worse than realizing that you’ve made a mistake. Not a little mistake, like forgetting to pay your car payment and being penalized, but a colossal mistake, like falling for a man who is exactly like your father. Except, he’s hidden it—a wolf in sheep’s clothing, if you will.

I thought that Kyle was different. He said and did all the right things. He worked in finance in one of those big buildings in the middle of downtown San Diego, and he wore a suit. With his styled blonde hair and brown eyes, he was the polar opposite of my father, in every way.

On our first date, Kyle came to my apartment door with a bouquet of a dozen red roses. They were gorgeous. I knew at that moment that he was special. No man had ever given me flowers before. No man had called me beautiful the way he did. No man looked at me the way he did, like he couldn’t believe I was on his arm.

Then, once we were official, things started to change. No, after he met my brother things shifted. Bates actually
liked
Kyle. He said it was nice that I was with a man who had a good job, was clean cut, and not one of his brothers.

When we returned from our visit with Bates and his new wife, Brentlee, Kyle was different—or rather, his view and treatment of me was different. He would make remarks to me, call me stupid or trashy. I no longer felt beautiful to him; rather, everything about me was pathetic and ugly.

I accepted it all, though.

Why?

Because he didn’t hit me like my father hit my mother and me. He
loved
me—or at least he said he did. His words were hurtful, but he didn’t use his fists on me.

In the bedroom, he was a lackluster lover, extremely boring, and I was okay with that as long as he was a nice man. I figured life could always be worse. He could be great in bed but beat the shit out of me, and I didn’t want that. So lackluster as long as he was nice was okay.

It was when he started using his words to abuse me, when the snide names turned into downright cruelty, that I started fighting back. I’m submissive by nature, my father beat that into me. Bates was my strength my entire life. When he left, I had nobody to fight my battles, so I surrendered to my father’s hand. I never told my brother exactly how our father treated me. I think that somewhere in the back of his mind he must have known, but he’d rather believe that it was only him and mom who suffered the wrath of Grisha Lukin.

Then it happened.

Kyle hit me.

It was nothing but a slap the first time. The second time, it was a punch to the stomach. I refused to do what he wanted, refused to be used the way he decided I should be. At twenty-seven years old, I’m not beholden to anyone. I own my own business and pay my own bills.

What Kyle wants me to do is not something I can ever do. I’d seen other women do it, I’d known them too, but that isn’t me. The women that do those things do them because they want to do them, not because their man wants to get ahead in business. And that is exactly what he wants—to climb the ladder, using me as his step-stool and his whore.

I’m no man’s whore.

My brother left me in the lion’s den to save himself and eventually come back to save me. I won’t degrade him, or myself, by returning to a different den. So I do the only thing I can think of. I call a man I know can and will be ruthless. A man that will save me and
not
call Bates while doing it. I can’t bring this to him. He’s been through way too much with his wife and her abusive ex-husband.

In the bathroom of Kyles home, a place I’d been invited to live, but haven’t moved in quite yet, I call Max,
MadDog
, Duhart. The president of the original charter of the motorcycle club, the
Notorious Devils
. The scariest man I have ever seen in my life, as a child.

It has been years since I’ve laid eyes on him, but I have his number. Bates had instructed me to call him if I ever needed help, as he was closer to me, living in Northern California. It will take him at least nine hours to get to me, but I don’t really need him until tomorrow evening anyway, so that will be all right.

Tonight, Kyle is going to needle me with words to help him advance his career. Lucky for me, he won’t touch me. I am safe from his dick,
tonight
. No, he wants to save me for his
client
. A man coming from New York.

A big executive who can
catapult
Kyle’s career.

He likes young women. He likes to fuck them and tie them up, and he likes their boyfriends to watch. It’s his kink. Using an
unavailable
woman. He likes that feeling of power over them.

I understand it, I really do.

Men in power only crave more power.

I am not going to be a pawn in this game, though. I don’t give a shit if Kyle rises to the top of his field. He isn’t nice anymore, and I want nice. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I turn on the shower to drown out my voice and I call the only man I know who will make Kyle shit his pants and rescue me all at the same time.

I scroll down the list on my phone and I find him.

MadDog Duhart.

Max

I look down at the blonde head that’s bobbing in my lap and I groan. Not because she’s doing such a great job blowing me; I can’t help myself, but because she isn’t. She’s young and hot, but she’s fucking terrible. I wrap my hand around the back of her head and I push her as far down as she can go, then I lift my hips and I fuck her mouth until I come.

I release her and lift my chin for her to go away. She obliges, thank god.
Christ
, had I let her continue on her own, it would have taken me another ten minutes just to get off. I tuck myself back in my pants and make my way toward the bar.

I tap the bar top and wait for my beer. The prospect’s fast, thank fuck. I have a beer and a shot sitting in front of me in less than three minutes.
Young punk ass kid
. I down the shot and then take a pull from my beer before I turn around and place my elbows on the bar, looking around at my clubhouse.

I’m getting too old for this shit, yet what am I going to do? Quit?
Retire
? I won’t lie and say that retiring hasn’t crossed my mind. I have three grandkids now, and I miss those little brats. They are fuckin’ perfect.

I close my eyes for a minute and think about my dead wife, Eleanora. My granddaughter Ellie was named in her memory, a beautiful tribute to the woman who had my heart for so many years.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I look down, surprised at the person who’s calling me.

Mary-Anne Lukin.

‘’Ello,” I murmur into the phone as I walk to my office where it’s quiet, taking my beer with me.

“It’s Mary-Anne, Bates’ sister,” she whispers. It sounds like there’s running water behind her and I furrow my brows as I lock my office door behind me.

“Know that. What’s wrong, babe?”

“I need your help, MadDog,
please
.”

Her voice sounds so small and I feel this knee-jerk reaction—protect. I need to protect her. The last time I saw her she was about seventeen years old, a skinny gangly lookin’ thing with thick, black hair. I haven’t seen her since. Sniper didn’t bring her around the clubhouse much as she grew up, and I sure as fuck don’t blame him.

“Tell me what you need and it’s yours,” I grumble.

“You, I need you. I need help,” she whispers. It sounds like she’s on the verge of tears.

My cock goes rock hard at her words—
I need you
.

“Where ya at? It’s gonna take me a little time to get to you,” I say as I stand and grab my keys from my desk drawer. She spouts off an address and tells me she’ll text me if her location changes before I arrive.

“It’s a guy’s house, the guy I’ve been seeing, but MadDog, I need out,” she states. She isn’t pleading anymore. She’s telling me she needs out, and she’s matter-of-fact about it, set and determined.

“Hold tight, darlin’, I’ll be there soon’s I can.”

“Thank you,” she whispers. My dick presses even harder against my jeans. Fuck me. I’m a dirty old man. She needs my help, a young kid asking for help, and I’m getting’ hard by the sound of her fuckin’ voice.
Christ
.

“I need five guys to come on a ride down to San Diego,” I announce as soon as I walk back into the bar area.

“For what?” Grease, my Vice President asks.

“Sniper, from the Idaho chapter, his sister needs our help. She’s in a bad situation and needs out,” I say.

“Fuck, yeah I’m in,” Grease grunts and stands up. Four others are quick to volunteer, and we all quickly go out to our bikes.

I don’t know the details of her situation, but she called me, and not Sniper, so my guess it’s probably pretty bad. She knows Sniper would lose his shit, a sister protecting her brother. Family. That’s what this whole fuckin’ club is about. Family. And I aim to always protect mine, and that includes the little sister of one of my brothers.

Mary-Anne Lukin.