Rough & Rugged (Notorious Devils Book 3) Page 3

  “I’m sorry to ruin your night again,” she rasps.

  “You didn’t ruin a fuckin’ thing. How’d you end up here?” I demand.

  I watch as her face crumples and I wish I could be gentler, but I don’t know how. I cup her full cheek in my hand and just look at her watery eyes, waiting for her answer. Her puffy bottom lip trembles and I feel like an asshole as my cock presses against the zipper of my jeans.

  Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to sink between those cock sucking lips of hers.

  “I didn’t know. My friend brought me, she said it was a party,” she murmurs.

  The hoarseness of her voice makes my cock even harder, which is so fucking wrong, considering how she got it that way.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, looking down on her. I need a smoke before I fuck her into the mattress.

  “I’m okay. He touched me, but he didn’t get under my panties,” she whispers with a blush on her cheeks.

  Looking at her, I feel like a fucking pervert. She looks so young, and I’m thirty years old. But the fucked up part is—I like that she looks so young. I’ve never given a fuck what a woman I’m going to sink my dick into looks like as long as she was a woman.

  But Hattie, she looks so innocent, so vulnerable, so breakable, and so fucking clean.

  I want to ruin her, dirty her up in every way imaginable.

  I want to make her cry and beg and destroy her.

  Mine.

  I want to make her all mine.

  I stand up and walk over to my dresser, grabbing a cigarette out of the pack, trying to calm my nerves—trying to calm my fucking, raging hard-on.

  “I’m sorry you have to deal with me again. Nineteen and still causing you trouble,” she murmurs.

  “Your friend shouldn’t have brought you. You shouldn’t be here; this place isn’t for girls like you,” I explain, taking a drag from my cigarette, feeling the nicotine fill me.

  I shouldn’t be smoking in here, around her, but I need it right now to try and calm my shit down.

  “Girls like me?” she asks, propping herself up on her elbows.

  My eyes travel from her face to her pert little tits, and, fuck me, but I want them in my mouth. I want my cum covering her body. I want to drown her in it. I clear my throat and try to get my blood to go back to my brain.

  “Good girls. Girls that wear pretty, little lace dresses to a biker clubhouse with blue high heels. Girls who don’t have their tits on display and aren’t here to fuck their way into being an Old Lady. Girls like you.”

  I blink up at him, the nameless man who has saved me from sexual abuse twice now. I’ve just heard him explain why a girl like me shouldn’t be here in his clubhouse. He’s right, but I don’t know that I’ll necessarily give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

  “I didn’t know this was where we were going. All I knew was that it was a party,” I admit.

  I watch as his eyes narrow on me before he takes another drag from his cigarette. It’s an act I usually find completely disgusting, but right now, it’s sexy as hell. I breathe a little faster as his lips release the cigarette and a plume of smoke follows.

  “You should have turned right back around when you pulled up to those gates,” he grunts.

  “I would have, but I wasn’t driving,” I murmur as quietly as possible. My voice is trashed and my throat hurts. “I’m sorry I ruined your night again,” I whisper, repeating my words. My cheeks heat as I think about the two naked women who were waiting for him.

  “They don’t matter,” he says nonchalantly as he takes another puff from his cigarette.

  “Still, I’m sorry,” I offer.

  “Who is your friend with?” he asks.

  “What’s your name?” I reply.

  His eyes flash with something, I can’t quite tell what, then he smiles. I watch as he snuffs out his cigarette and then walks back over to me, sitting down on the bed. All the while, his eyes never leave mine. They are completely focused on me, as if there is nothing else more important in the world than—me.

  “Johnny,” he murmurs as his hand comes to my face. I inhale sharply when his fingers come out and trace from my temple down the side of my face to my lips.

  “Johnny,” I murmur against his finger.

  He smells like nicotine and beer, leather and oil. The combination overloads my senses, and for some reason, it makes me breathe a little heavier.

  “Hattie,” he rasps.

  My nipples immediately tighten at the roughness of his voice, the sweet sound and low murmur of my name. I open my mouth to say something, though I don’t know what. Maybe to ask him to kiss me, or take me, or something—I don’t know. But he beats me to it.

  “You need to leave,” he murmurs.

  “I don’t think I want to,” I admit, wrapping my hand around his wrist.

  “I’m not a good man,” he says as his eyes stay trained on mine.

  “I don’t think I care,” I whisper as I look at him, begging for his lips on mine.

  It’s been three years, but I haven’t forgotten how his lips felt.

  “If I fuck you, it’s a one-time thing. It won’t be slow or romantic. It’ll be fucking filthy and you’ll probably feel degraded, during and after. I don’t think you could be okay with that. You’re too good for that—too clean and too— sweet,” he announces.

  His words are meant to be cruel, but the way he’s looking at me, the way he’s staring into my eyes, he doesn’t mean them. Not really. He’s saying it to scare me. I have no doubt he’ll be rough and filthy, but I think that’s just the way he is. I don’t think he’ll just throw me away afterward, not if after three years he still remembers my name—still remembers our brief meeting. I marked him in some way, just as he’s marked me.

  “I’ll be okay. Fuck me,” I say bravely as I sit up.

  “No, you need to go back home to daddy,” he practically growls.

  I blink. I’ve just offered myself up to this guy, to do with as he pleases, knowing he won’t be gentle and probably won’t come back for seconds, and now he’s denying me completely and being condescending.

  “I’m an adult. I live on my own, no daddy to take care of me,” I murmur, looking into his eyes. Brown. Like the sweetest chocolate.

  “I can’t be that for you, Hattie,” he rasps before he stands up. “Get up, I’m taking you home.”

  I don’t say anything else. What’s there to say? I’ve offered my body to him, and he’s turned me down, repeatedly. I stand up and smooth down my skirt before I follow him.

  As soon as we step out of his room, he turns and tells me to stay close by. I do as he’s asked, and together we walk through the throngs of people partying, fucking, drinking and some even fighting. I don’t bother looking for Willa. She’s off with Robbie somewhere, not giving a crap about me.

  Once we’re outside, I look over and see the big, handsome man that stopped me before the weirdo grabbed me. He’s sitting on a table alone. I look over at him and he nods at me. I start to take a step toward him, to thank him for at least trying to get me out of the party, when I feel Johnny’s hand wrap around my bicep.

  “Where are you going?” he growls.

  “To tell that man thank you. He was trying to get me out of the party before that other guy grabbed me,” I say.

  “You don’t need to say shit to him,” Johnny announces.

  I push his hand off of my arm and ignore him as I walk up to the handsome stranger. He breaks out into a blinding, beautiful smile at my arrival in front of him.

  “You all right there? I heard what happened. They beat the piss outta that dude,” he chuckles.

  “I’m okay. I just wanted to say thank you for trying,” I murmur.

  “You’re makin’ him awfully jealous there, little girl. You better watch out. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire when it comes to him,” he says, lifting his chin.

  I don’t look behind me, where Johnny is surely staring at us. Instead, I lift my shoulder, which make
s him smile even wider.

  “I’m not anything to him,” I murmur.

  “If it’s him who told you that, then he’s lied to you—maybe himself, too,” he says, taking a pull from his beer.

  “Well, thank you, anyway,” I say, not knowing how to react to his words.

  I wish that Johnny thought I was worthy or attractive. I think he’s gorgeous, and I’ve been thinking of his lips on mine for years. But he doesn’t want me, and at the moment, I’m just grateful that he’s willing to take me home.

  “You done?” Johnny asks as he stomps up to my side.

  “Yeah,” I sigh.

  “We’ll take my car, c’mon,” he mumbles.

  I give the other man a low wave of my hand and follow Johnny to the side of a big, metal warehouse type building. There I see several cars, pickups and SUV’s parked in a line.

  “Our cages,” Johnny announces as he walks over to an old, black muscle car.

  “Where are your motorcycles?” I ask. I pull the handle and open the door for myself.

  “Parked in front. We only use these in the winter time, or when we have to,” he says as he slides behind the wheel.

  I buckle myself in while he starts the engine, and then he tears out of the parking area with a roar.

  “Where you live?” He barks the question angrily, causing me to jump slightly at the harshness of his tone.

  “Sagle,” I murmur.

  “The fuck?” he asks, turning his head to look at me in surprise.

  “It’s far, I know. If you want to leave me at the edge of town, or halfway, then I can call my brother to get me when he gets off of his shift,” I murmur.

  “That prick can shove it up his ass. I’ll take you home.”

  We don’t speak again for the rest of the trip. Johnny fiddles with the radio and changes the station a hundred times before we’ve crossed the city limit sign. I give him quiet instructions to my apartment complex, and then when we pull up, he parks and turns the engine off.

  He doesn’t say anything and neither do I. He sits and stares out the front windshield for about five minutes before he finally speaks.

  “I don’t want to see you again, Hattie. Not because I don’t want you, but because I want you too much. I want to ruin you, destroy you, degrade you sexually, and make you fucking filthy. Then, I’ll want to come inside of you and tie you to me by getting you knocked up so that I can keep you, forever, as only mine—to do with as I please. I’m not good. I’ve never been good, and I’ll never be good. Now go, before I take you to your apartment, ruin you, and then kidnap you.”

  By the time he’s finished with his speech, my breathing is heavy and my panties are damp. I want that. I want to feel like I belong to somebody, like I’m needed, and like I’m wanted. The degradation and the baby thing, I’m not so sure about, but the rest—I want it.

  “You want me?” I ask, looking over at him.

  Johnny looks at me and I watch as his eyes and face soften, then he cups my cheek with his rough palm.

  “Yeah, princess. Don’t matter how wrong it is, I’ve wanted you since you were sixteen,” he mutters.

  “I’m not sixteen anymore,” I rasp before I climb over the seat and straddle his thighs.

  It’s the boldest move I’ve ever made, and yet, he makes me want to be bold, just for him. I watch as he tilts his head back and his eyes connect with mine. He’s so rough—all strong, sharp features—but behind his eyes, there’s something burning deeper. I want to get to know the man, the man behind the hardened outside.

  “You’re playing with fire, little girl. Don’t you understand, I won’t just fuck you—I’ll ruin you?” he asks, repeating himself yet again.

  “Make me dirty, Johnny. Fuck me filthy, and then keep me,” I whisper.

  He shakes his head, and then it’s as if his will completely disintegrates. He wraps one hand around the back of my head, twisting his fingers in my hair as his lips crash against mine. I moan, opening my mouth. When his tongue slides inside of me, I surrender to him. I let my body go boneless, being held up by my hair and his other hand wrapped around my back. He tastes so good as his lips, teeth, and tongue completely devour me.

  I rock my hips against his hard length and moan a second time. Then I scream and jump when I hear someone bang on the car window.

  I look up, horrified at the sight in front of me.

  My brother.

  My brother is standing on the other side of the door in full uniform, and he looks pissed.

  He opens the door and I quickly scramble out and adjust my skirt to cover myself, since it rode all the way up when I straddled Johnny’s thighs.

  Then, as slowly as he can possibly move, Johnny gets out of the car, one leg at a time. I watch in completely embarrassed horror as he adjusts his dick, right in front of my brother.

  “What the fuck is going on here?” Andy asks, looking between us.

  “Johnny gave me a ride home,” I say with a shrug, hoping Andy can’t see what has to be forming bruises on my neck from that jerk earlier.

  “I know you,” Andy sneers as he looks Johnny up and down.

  “Yeah. Your sister ended up at a Devils party, probably not a place she needs to be. I was bringing her ass home,” Johnny informs him.

  “Looked like you were trying to get in her panties to me—her very young panties,” Andy says, embarrassing the hell out of me even more.

  “Andy, I’m over eighteen, what are you even doing here?” I ask, trying to change the subject of my panties.

  “Willa called, said she couldn’t find you, wanted to make sure you were home okay,” he says.

  I snort and roll my eyes. Willa. I’m so over her and her drama. I’m over being ditched and put in bad situations.

  I’m just done.

  “I’ll text her and tell her I’m fine. Thanks for checking up on me,” I murmur.

  “I’ll wait until you get inside your apartment,” Andy says, narrowing his eyes on Johnny.

  “No need, I’m leaving,” Johnny says.

  I watch as he quickly gets back into the driver’s seat of his car and then takes off in a roar. I had him. He was finally going to be with me, after three years of thinking about him, and my stupid brother screwed it all up. No, Willa screwed it all up.

  “Happy now?” I ask Andy.

  “Yeah, I am. Those guys are thugs, fucking scum, and no way do I want my baby sister hanging around them. They’re the dregs of society,” he informs me.

  “Fine. You did your duty, now goodnight,” I say bitchily before I turn and start to walk up the stairs to my apartment.

  “You’ll thank me one day, Hattie. One day, when you’re in your nice house with two kids and a husband that’s a mortgage broker or some shit. You’ll thank me for not letting you mess around with a piece of shit.”

  I ignore him.

  I ignore every word he says and I go inside of my apartment, locking my door behind me. I don’t sink down to the floor and cry like I want to. Instead, I grab my phone from its place next to my bed. I was so stupid to forget it, especially going with Willa. I text her and let her know I’m safe before I walk into my bathroom and flick the light on.

  I chance looking into the mirror and I cringe when I see the red finger prints on my neck. They’re terrible, and yet I don’t feel frightened, or scared, or even upset about the events that took place. Maybe it’s all still too fresh, too new, and it hasn’t sunk in yet.

  Then I think about Johnny; about how, if none of this would have happened, then I probably wouldn’t have seen him ever again.

  I start my shower and think about him some more. He’s a contradiction. He wants me to stay away from him, yet he wants me too, and to debase me, whatever that means to him. The degradation he speaks of frightens me, but not enough to keep me away from him. Perhaps he’s dangerous, like Andy says he is, but I think that he’s just lost. I think that he has a void, a void that needs to be filled. I want to be that filler.

  I wan
t him to touch me with his rough hands, to own my body and make it his own.

  Why? I don’t know—but I want to belong to him.

  I finish my shower, but I don’t bother putting any clothes on or even drying my hair. I slide beneath my sheets and I close my eyes. I’m exhausted from the evening and I’m disappointed in its outcome. I’ve never slept with someone I don’t know. In fact, I’ve only been with two boys, and both I dated exclusively for a time.

  Yet, I was willing to let Johnny inside of me. No, I wanted him to be. I’ve never wanted anything more. Maybe it would just be all hype to be with him—something I have built up in my head for three years. Maybe the reality would be lack luster. I don’t know. But I wanted to find out.

  I fall asleep thinking about kissing him, about feeling his hard length against my core, wishing I could have felt his hands all over my body.

  A pig.

  Her brother is a fucking cop pig.

  I speed away from her apartment building, even though everything inside is screaming at me to go back. I told her things, things I’d never told another person before in my life. I told her what I wanted from her. I couldn’t imagine it with anybody else, either. Now I know why Fury and Sniper fought for their women, why they claimed them the way that they did.

  I want to do that with Hattie.

  I’d ruin her, though. I would completely fuck her up, and she’d probably end up resenting and hating me for it later.

  “Fuck,” I roar as I slam my hands on the steering wheel of my car.

  That little girl has my nuts in a vice and she doesn’t even know it yet. I have to stay away from her, for her own good. I’ve never been any good to anybody.

  A useless waste of cum—that’s what my dad called me my entire life.

  He wasn’t wrong.

  I’m completely useless.

  All I know how to do is fuck, fight, and run drugs and guns. I’m not smart. I never graduated high school. I don’t know how to be kind, loving, and considerate. I’d break that girl in a week if I made her mine. Fucking ruin her. She has some spirit, too; I saw it a bit tonight, and she’s so strong. Trying to fight that douchebag off showed her strength and willpower.