Chased with Strength_Notorious Devils Read online

  “Goddammit, Hayden. I never said that’s what you were. Don’t put fucking words in my mouth,” he growls. “You are not my fuckdoll,” he states.

  I press my lips together, refusing to speak. I know that if I do, right now, I’ll end up screaming and crying. I want so badly for us to be this image I have in my head. A family, a couple, a real relationship. I don’t want what I’ve had before. I don’t want him to use me and toss me aside when he’s done. Keep me locked up until he has an itch that needs scratching. This is not how I saw us going. I want what Ginger and Snake have, what Fish and Gracie have.

  Ward lowers his face, his lips touching mine before he whispers against my mouth. “You are not my fuckdoll, baby. You’re my woman.” He presses his lips to my own, his tongue sneaking out to taste.

  Opening my mouth, I let him inside without even thinking. I’ll always let him inside of me, it’s where he belongs, even when I’m angry with him.

  The doorbell rings and we both freeze. Ward takes a step back and I watch him bend over to pick something up off of the floor. He presses the item against my chest. “Put your panties on, I’ll get the door,” he offers.

  He walks away from me, his feet stomping with each step. I close my eyes, trying to keep from crying, then I quickly shimmy my panties up my legs before running to the bathroom to clean up. Once I’m freshened up a bit, I hurry out to the bare living room.

  Ward is standing in the middle of the room, a sleepy Easton with his face nuzzled in his neck, talking to Ginger. “There she is,” Ginger squeals.

  “Hey,” I wave with a smile.

  I have my notepad from earlier in my other hand, gripping it tightly, I walk up to Ward and Easton. Ward ignores me, refuses to look at me and it pisses me off. I reach for Easton, but he doesn’t hand him to me.

  “I’ll keep him today, you just do whatever you need to do.”

  I shake my head, rolling my lips together. “No, I got him, it’s okay.”

  “Let Crooner hang with the little man today. You’ll get a lot more done without him, trust me,” Ginger announces with a smile, oblivious to our current awkwardness.

  “Are you sure?” I ask him.

  Ward’s eyes finally meet mine and his glare is an icy one. It actually sends a shiver up my spine. “Yeah. I’m fucking sure,” he growls. I watch as he shoves his hand into his pocket and brings out an envelope, pressing it against the center of my chest.

  I take it in my hand and peek inside. It’s full of cash. My eyes lift to his and I know they’re big and round with surprise. “Get what you need. We’ll outfit the rest of the place later,” he shrugs.

  “Come on,” Ginger cries, taking my arm and tugging me toward the door.

  Looking back at Ward, I silently plead for him to say or do something, to give me a smile—something. I don’t want to leave this house angry and fighting.

  “Babe?” he calls out just as I step through the threshold. I spin around as fast as I can. His blue eyes meet mine and he gives me a smirk. “Love you,” he rasps.

  My heart swells at his words. Two words and they undo everything painful I’d been feeling. “I love you too, Ward,” I say.

  His lips twitch under his beard and I leave him standing in the living room holding my son. The two men that hold my heart in the palms of their hands. Even when I’m pissed off at Ward, I still love him more than I’ve ever loved another man.

  I hurry toward Ginger’s car and slip inside, buckling myself in before her engine roars to life, and she backs out of the driveway and heads toward out first shopping destination.

  CROONER

  I feel like a fucking asshole. Setting Easton down on the living room floor, I join him, reaching for my guitar. I need to play, to get my frustrations out some way. I can’t fuck, and I can’t fight right now, so I decide that I’ll play. I pick a country melody, something haunting and gentle so that it doesn’t rile up Easton who has just woken up from his nap.

  Easton takes his cars out of the small basket that holds them, dumping them directly onto the tile flooring and begins to play with them. The two of us spend an hour together. Him playing quietly with his cars, and me strumming my guitar. It’s the most peaceful morning I’ve ever had in my life.

  Once I’m finished, I set my instrument down, and frown. I was a dick to Hayden. I can’t seem to remember her past is horrific, the way she was used and abused is something I’ve never had to deal with before.

  I need to choose my words and my actions more wisely. She’s incredibly strong, and it’s easy for me to forget the tragedies she’s suffered. She doesn’t mention them often, usually when she’s angry with me, or hurt by me.

  “Dada, Dada,” Easton chants walking over to me. He reaches up and grabs my beard with both of his fists. “Hunry,” he announces.

  I chuckle at his obvious demand for food. Luckily, Hayden went to the store yesterday after we moved our meager belongings into the house. It’s evident that we have to fill this place up with furniture and decorative shit. This isn’t a home, and that’s exactly what it needs to be. I know she’ll make it one, and I can’t fucking wait.

  There’s a knock on the door just as I’m scooping Easton into my arms to start his lunch. I frown as I walk over. Wrenching the door open, I look down into the face of a sandy blond-haired man. He’s shorter than me, standing at probably only five-foot-ten-inches. He’s slimmer too, obviously not holding much bulk or muscle on his slight frame. What has me on edge is the way he’s looking directly at Easton, and not at me.

  “Help you?” I ask.

  His eyes shift to mine, but I don’t miss how they linger on my cut for a moment, first. “I’m looking for a Connie Parrish. I’m from her church, we were supposed to get together for a prayer group this afternoon,” he says.

  His voice is gentle, almost too gentle as if he’s forcing it to appear less threatening. He doesn’t threaten me, though, I could squish him like a damn bug.

  “Sorry, we just moved in this weekend. I don’t know where the previous tenants went off to,” I shrug, keeping my eyes glued to his.

  I watch as he glances back at Easton, then me again. “Oh, I’m sorry to be a bother. Please excuse me,” he mumbles, taking a step back. “Your son is beautiful,” he adds before he turns around.

  “Thanks,” I say eyeing him warily.

  “Dada,” Easton shouts in my face. The man’s spine straightens and his steps falter, but he continues walking away, albeit fucking slowly.

  “Yeah, buddy?”

  “Hunry,” Easton shouts, grabbing ahold of my beard and yanking on it again.

  I chuckle. “Okay, let’s get you some lunch.” Turning around, I walk back inside of the house, locking the door behind me.

  I’m not scared, but whoever that Bible thumper was, he was a goddamn freakshow and with Easton home, I’d rather be safe than sorry. Although he saw my cut, and I highly doubt he’ll be back.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  HAYDEN

  The day with Ginger is exactly what I needed. By the time I arrive back at the house, it’s dark, but the back of Ginger’s car is completely full of my new purchases. I have everything I need, I think, at least for the next three weeks or so.

  Furniture and bigger items can wait. I’m used to going with the basic necessities anyway, and now I have more than I ever have. It feels almost surreal and extremely fast.

  When we pull into the driveway, Ward is opening the front door and I watch him jog toward Ginger’s car. Wordlessly he helps unload the car. Ginger never asked me about our obvious tension earlier, and I didn’t offer any information about it either.

  I don’t know what to make of my relationship with Ward, yet. I want to believe that we’ve got a mutual respect relationship, that we’re a partnership. Then, something happens that slams against me, letting me know that we aren’t partners. He is very much the man in charge, and I am very much nothing more than his bed partner, now his permanent bed partner.

  “Whateve
r you need while Crooner’s gone, you let me know,” Ginger offers before she gives me a hug. I watch as she turns around, leaving me alone in the living room with Ward.

  “Where’s Easton?” I ask, breaking the silence.

  Our tension hasn’t dissipated, in fact, I think it’s actually worse than before I left. I can practically see it, it’s so thick. Ward runs his hand through his long hair, tugging on the ends before his eyes lift to mine.

  “He’s asleep. He already ate, and I gave him a bath before I put him down,” he rasps.

  I nod. Looking around the room, I have so much stuff to put away, but it can wait. Ward leaves tomorrow, and whatever is between us, I want it gone before he goes. I wonder offhandedly if that’s wishful thinking though, especially since neither of us is talking to the other.

  “I’m going to bed, I have to be up early,” he grunts, turning away from me.

  I watch as he stomps toward the bedroom, leaving me alone in the living room. My heart aches, it isn’t broken because it would take a lot more to break me at this point in my life, but it is aching with his actions.

  Locking the front door, I go about closing the house down. Once all of the doors are locked, and the lights are off, I suck in a deep breath before I make my way toward the bedroom. Wrapping my hand around the doorknob, I press my lips together inhaling through my nose then push the door open.

  I expect to see Ward with his back to the door, and asleep. What I don’t expect is to see him with the sheet pulled up to his hips, sitting up with his back against the headboard and his eyes pointed at me.

  “Lock the door, baby,” he orders.

  Automatically, my body responds, not only do I lock the door, but I let out a shaky breath when I do. I love when his voice is raspy, I love when he orders me to do things, I just plain love him—even when I’m pissed off at him, for the exact same thing.

  “You have fun today?” he asks.

  I stand stock still, wondering where this conversation is going, and why we’re having it right now. I don’t answer him with words, my words have completely escaped me. I nod. His lips twitch under his beard, his eyes almost glitter as they look at me.

  “We need to have a talk,” he states.

  I gulp, because I agree, but I don’t want to have this talk. I’m afraid of what is going to be said.

  “Take your clothes off, then come over here to me,” he murmurs.

  My body locks but my hands are fluid in their movements as I grasp the hem of my dress and pull it over my head. Ward’s gaze stays completely connected to my own as I hook my thumbs in the waist of my panties and tug them down my legs. Then I unhook my bra and drop it down to the floor while I step out of my shoes.

  Slowly, I walk toward him, climbing onto the bottom of the bed before I crawl over to his side. He shakes his head and glances down at his lap. Lifting my ass off of my feet, I bring one leg over his hip and rest my center against his pelvis. He tugged the sheet down sometime during my transition and I feel his skin against me.

  His hands wrap around my waist and he squeezes. I can’t take my eyes off of his intense gaze. “You said some things today,” he says, he keeps his voice low and gentle. I nod, pressing my lips together and rolling them. “You were wrong though, babe,” he mutters.

  My eyes widen before they narrow. “I was wrong?” I ask slowly.

  He nods. “Been thinking on it all day long,” he announces. “You are my fuckdoll,” he states.

  It’s as if his words have the power to physically assault me. I jerk back. Then I try to scramble out of his grasp, but he doesn’t let me. His fingers tighten around my waist so tight that I know he’s going to leave marks, but it doesn’t stop me from struggling against his hold.

  “Stop it,” he barks.

  My body freezes at his command and I glare at him, wishing I weren’t so naked, wishing I weren’t straddling his hips, and wishing he wasn’t fucking hard right now.

  “You’re my fuckdoll, Hayden. It isn’t a dirty thing, and it isn’t a degrading thing. It’s fucking beautiful,” he states, releasing his grip on my waist a little bit.

  “It’s not beautiful,” I spit.

  Ward shakes his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, baby. It’s fucking gorgeous. The way you take me inside of you, the way you make me feel, everything about the way we come together is beautiful, even when I’m fucking you. I fuck you here in our room, or on a pool table in the middle of a party at the clubhouse, it’s still fucking beautiful.”

  My eyes water at his words, at the conviction in his voice. I want to believe him, but I’m not sure that I can. I’ve been someone’s fuckdoll before, their pleasure toy, and I don’t ever want to be that again. I don’t ever want to be used as a dumping ground for a man’s cum—not ever again.

  “I don’t want this. None of it,” I state, trying to push his hands off of my waist.

  His grip tightens again, except this time he lifts me slightly and I feel his cock against my entrance. I shake my head, but he ignores my protest and gently pulls me down along his dick. My fingers grip his wrists tighter, and my eyes fill with tears.

  “Baby, it’s always beautiful when I’m inside of you,” he rasps once I’m completely full of him.

  Sucking in a breath, I shake my head. “Nothing about being a whore is beautiful,” I shout.

  Ward flips me onto my back in an instant and I let out a cry as he does. I think he’s going to pull out of me, but he doesn’t, he slams back inside grinding his pelvis against my clit with a growl.

  Lowering his face, his lips brush mine before he whispers against my mouth. “Get that fucking shit out of your head. You are not a whore, but yeah, you’re my fuckdoll, baby. Get used to that shit.”

  His hands move from my waist, and wrap around my wrists, slamming my arms up and above my head, keeping me hostage. I open my mouth to yell, but his lips press against it, and his tongue fills me. He fucks me, holding my arms as his hips slam against me, his cock driving into me without reservation.

  I want to scream and cry and call him names, but I’m completely helpless as he holds me down. Soon, my body starts to climb toward my climax, and I curse myself too, enjoying the way he’s roughly fucking me.

  Ward rips his lips from me and moves them to my ear as his hips continue to slam against my own, his thrusts rough and erratic. “You’re my beautiful little fuckdoll, Hayden. Everything I ever wanted in a woman, baby,” he breathes against my ear.

  “I don’t want to be that. I’m not that,” I protest, whimpering as tears fall down my temples, onto the sheets below me.

  He lifts his head and his blue gaze takes me in. “Baby, you’re getting hung up on the past,” he grunts, panting between each thrust of his hips. “I’m not them. Do not put me in a category with them,” he growls.

  I moan, lifting my hips to meet his thrusts, my eyes sliding closed as they roll in the back of my head. “I’m close,” I breathe.

  “Come, baby,” Ward orders.

  His fingers tighten around my wrists as he grinds against my clit a little harder with each down stroke. It doesn’t take me long, seconds, before I completely unravel beneath him. He doesn’t slow, or stop moving, to let me revel in my climax. His hips start to pound against me, fucking me harder and faster until he stills deep inside of me and comes on a growl.

  “I am not Lucifer, and I am not that sick fuck Aryan,” he states angrily, pulling out of me.

  He completely releases me, climbing off of the bed, and then walks away and into the bathroom. I jump when he slams the door closed behind him. I don’t move, too frozen in surprise by his words. No, he’s not them, and I don’t want him to ever think that I see him the way I see them. However, I can’t change the way I think, the way I feel.

  When he returns, he doesn’t say anything to me. I watch as he crawls into bed and rolls over onto his side. I stay in my same spot for a few minutes, waiting for him to say something but he doesn’t say a word.

  Sliding o
ff of the bed, I go into the bathroom and clean up. Grabbing a pair of sleep shorts and matching top on my way to the bathroom. I quickly put them on before I open the bedroom door, then I go to bed myself.

  Ward says nothing the entire time. When I finally slip into bed, he doesn’t turn toward me to hold me like he has every night he’s slept beside me, even before we were together. A tear falls from my eye, down my cheek, and against my neck.

  Turning toward him, I press my body against his bare back and slip my arm around his waist. Tomorrow he leaves for weeks, so pissed off, hurt or not, I want to feel his body against mine, anyway I can have it.

  “I love you,” I sigh into the dark room.

  He doesn’t respond, and I wonder if I’ve really fucked us up. If my past traumas have ruined what could have been between us already. Emotionally exhausted, I fall asleep, but not before I press my lips against the center of his back in a lingering kiss.

  CROONER

  I sleep like shit, like complete fucking shit. My guilt for being an asshole eating away at me. I should have told her that I loved her too last night, fuck, I should have said a million things. I just don’t know what to say to her.

  I tried to tell her how I felt, that being my fuckdoll is different from being theirs. She didn’t get it, or maybe I didn’t explain it well enough, fuck if I know. All I know is that I hurt her, and I don’t know how to fix it.

  Leaving the house at the ass crack of dawn, I straddle my bike and walk it down the driveway. Once I’m in the middle of the quiet street, I start the engine. I don’t leave right away, my focus directed at the house where my family is sleeping soundly. They are just that, too, my family.

  I checked on Easton before I left this morning, he was snoring and looked so fucking cute. Hayden was asleep too, her breathing deep and heavy. I don’t want to leave either of them. In fact, I never want to leave them. I want to stay right here with them, be home every night to help Hayden with East, eat her dinners, and then later eat her.