Rough & Rugged (Notorious Devils Book 3) (40 page)

Hattie leads me into the living room where her father is sitting in a chair watching television. He looks up and his impassive expression turns to anger in an instant at the sight of me. His eyes scan my body from head to toe and his lips turn from a frown to a sneer.

“Dad?” Hattie calls out.

His eyes leave me and turn to his daughter. I watch as his face goes from red-faced anger to annoyance at the sight of his daughter. My own irritation doubles at the way he’s looking at Hattie. If I were anywhere else and he were anyone else, I’d tell him to fuck off and I’d be out the door, but for Hattie I won’t. I’ll fuckin’ suck it up, for her.

“Mr. Morris,” I say holding out my hand for him to shake. He looks from Hattie to my hand and back to Hattie. Then he takes my hand and gives me a firm shake.

“I’m Johnny Williams.”

He doesn’t respond because Mrs. Morris walks in and hugs Hattie before she turns to me with a smile, pulling on my shoulders and taking me into a hug.

“Johnny, is Henrietta not feeding you? You look like skin and bones,” Hattie’s mom says, breaking the thick tension that fills the room.

Hattie and I laugh a little awkwardly, as we follow her mom into the dining room. I’m ignored for the most part, which I’m fine with. Hattie fidgets in her seat for the entirety of the dinner and her father takes turns glaring between the two of us. Hattie’s mom is the only one obliviously keeping the conversation flowing as best as she can and once dessert is consumed we excuse ourselves and leave.

The evening was completely full of tension and it was awkward, but it was also so different from the way I was raised that it shocks the shit out of me. There’s no screaming or yelling, no dope on the counter, and no talk of sex.

I don’t say much on our way back to the house, just thinking about the differences in how our families are. We were raised so fucking differently, I wonder if this can work, really work?

“Johnny,” Hattie whispers as I pull into the garage. I don’t look at her, my mind too far fucking gone into my own head. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re family’s really fuckin’ great.”

“Yeah, I think tonight went okay,” she murmurs.

“It could have been worse,” I say. I don’t say anything else. I don’t know what to say. Hattie reaches out and wraps her hand around my forearm.

“Let’s go inside. Let’s go to bed,” she smiles shyly.

“You’re too good for me,” I grunt.

“I’m yours, Johnny,” she whispers.

“Fuck yeah, you are,” I mutter.

We get out of the car and go inside. I need to be inside of her.

“I need you, Johnny,” Hattie whispers once we’re in our bedroom.

I grin at her words, knowing that I need her, too. Once we’re stripped and I ease my way inside of her hot cunt, I know that I can’t leave her, that whatever we have, it’s going to work out simply because she’s her, she’s Hattie. It doesn’t matter how different we were raised, one look in her eyes and I’m fucking gone for her. Fucking obliterated.

Tonight, in this bed, it’s just me and Hattie. Tomorrow it’s life back to normal with the arrival of MadDog but tonight I’m going to take her over and fucking over—owning her just as she fucking owns me.

Hattie and I fucked and slept through MadDog’s arrival and, honest to god, I was glad for it. If I had to see that cunt Serina again, I probably would have killed her right then and there—the bitch. Staying home and alternating between sleeping and fucking was the best idea I could ever have.

Now we’re getting dressed for the BBQ. It’s mid-afternoon and Hattie is taking her sweet ass time while I relax on our sofa, a sofa I’ve only sat my ass on a handful of times.

“We gotta go,” I call out.

“I’m coming,” she says as she walks into the room.

My mouth fucking falls to the floor. Hattie is wearing an extremely too tight and extremely too short black skirt. Her top is the fucking same, showing off her flat stomach, and her hair is gathered to the side, falling straight down her shoulder. Her shoes are flat sandals, and I try not to groan at the sight of her.

“Is this okay?” she asks, making the motion of smoothing down her skirt.

“Yeah, if you want me to fuck you in front of everybody,” I grind out as I stand from the sofa, my dick pressing painfully hard against the zipper of my jeans.

“Wh-what?” she breathes.

“Your clothes are fuckin’ non-existent, princess,” I murmur as I walk up to her and slip my hand around her waist, pulling her into my chest.

“I wanted to look like a hot biker babe,” she mutters, tipping her head back to look at me. I can’t control my grin at her words.

“You’re my hot biker babe, even when you’re covering all that skin up,” I state.

“Do I need to change?” she asks, looking so unsure of herself.

“Never. You look hot as fuck, just stay at my side all night,” I inform her. She grins.

I slide my hands down to slip underneath her short as fuck skirt and palm her ass.

“Can we take your
Chevelle
?” she breathes as I slip my finger beneath her thong panties and slide it through her folds.

“Why? I want that warm pussy pressed against my back,” I waggle my eyebrows and she giggles, pressing her lips into my neck.

“I want to take the cake I made.”

“Okay, princess,” I mutter as I push my finger inside of her warm pussy.

“What’s wrong?”

“I wanted to eat it. Looks fuckin’ awesome,” I shrug as I slowly finger her.

“I’ll make you your very own tomorrow,” she says, pressing her lips to mine. I slip a second finger inside and instruct her to ride my hand.

“We need to leave,” she breathes.

“Not before you come on my fingers,” I growl, slipping my fingers from her center. She looks at me with question.

“I’m hungry, princess, lay down on the sofa,” I order.

Hattie doesn’t argue with me. She hurries to the couch and lays down on her back. I don’t give her a second to adjust or make herself comfortable before I’ve torn her panties down her legs and settle my face between her sweet thighs.

“Johnny,” she moans as her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling my mouth closer to her pussy.
I fucking love it
. Love that she’s becoming wilder, more comfortable and more confident.

I don’t just eat her to bring her to an orgasm, I devour her. I take my time, nibbling and sucking and tongue fucking her sweet cunt. She tastes so good, I forget the fucking cake. All I want to do is eat Hattie day in and day out.

“I’m going to come,” she moans above me. I don’t stop until she’s whimpering and her body is shaking with her climax.

“
Jesus
,” I curse as I disentangle myself from her legs and hands.

“I want more,” she whispers as she quickly crawls into my lap. I wrap my hands around her ass, watching her unbuckle my jeans.

“Hattie,” I warn.

“Just let me make you feel good. Please?” she whispers. Her eyes are locked in on mine as I feel her wet heat envelop my cock.

“So good, so good,” I mutter as my fingers grip her ass. I move her body at the pace I want. “Just hold on, princess.”

I look into her green eyes and use her body to fuck my cock. I shudder when her hands scrape against my scalp, and she holds onto the back of my head. Her little gasps and whimpers are almost my undoing.

Every single time she moans, it makes me sweat that much more. I’m trying my damndest to hold the fuck on. I want her to come again, come all over me.

“Come on my cock,” I say through clenched teeth as I spread her ass cheeks apart and grind her against me.

“I’m close,” she mewls.

I lift my hips and fuck her hard, pulling her down as I lift up. When her pussy clamps down and her eyes widen in surprise, I know she’s come. I finally succumb to my own climax before I let my head fall against the back of the sofa.

“I love you,” she sighs as her lips find my neck.

“Me too,” I murmur, squeezing her ass a little tighter. “Get cleaned up and let’s get outta here.”

I moan when she lifts up off of my cock, wanting to be nowhere else but still buried inside of her. Her sweet ass jiggles as she scurries to the bathroom to clean up. I don’t bother wiping my dick off at all. I want her scent all over me; later, she’ll be sucking it off of me, too.

After a few minutes, we’re in my
Chevelle
and headed toward the clubhouse. The windows are rolled down, and a I’ve got a cigarette in my mouth. Life couldn’t get any fuckin’ sweeter.

I should have worn jeans and a sweater.

It’s freezing ass cold in this car as we drive toward the clubhouse. I know that Johnny has the window down because he’s smoking, and while I appreciate it, I’m really cold in my barely-there outfit. I really should have put more thought into what I was wearing. I can only hope that it’ll be warm inside of the clubhouse, otherwise I’ll turn into a popsicle.

The parking lot is completely full and anxiety begins to flow through my veins. This is the first time I’ve been to a party as Johnny’s Old Lady, and I hope I don’t screw it all up completely and embarrass myself—or him. My legs start to shake with nervousness as Johnny parks, and then he turns to me and has the most handsome, confused look on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why do they call you
Dirty
Johnny?” I blurt out.

His eyes widen and then he bursts out laughing.

“You don’t wanna know, babe,” he says between his deep laughter.

“I need to know. It’s permanently inked into my skin, and this is a family party, and I just need to know,” I ramble.

“Okay,” he clears his throat. “Before you, I usually had sex with two girls at once, right?” he asks. I nod. “I liked anal mostly, not too often would I do anything else. Well, when I was a prospect and a fuckin’ punk ass kid, I was fucking this whore’s ass, and then I shoved my dick down another girl’s throat. I alternated from ass to mouth. I was so high and so drunk. Anyway, Vault walked in on it and said I was so fuckin’ dirty. He told everybody about it and that’s how I got my name.”

I stare at him in complete shock. Then I look down at my arm and back up to him as I wrinkle my nose is disgust.

“I told you that you didn’t want to know,” he shrugs.

“Can I get this shit covered up?” I ask looking down at my arm.

“Fucking never, Hattie. I was a punk ass fuckin’ kid and the road names they give you don’t change. That’s mine for eternity. I can’t be ashamed or embarrassed of it, and neither should you be,” he almost shouts.

“Did you get tested after you fucked her ass bare?” I shout back. I watch as his face turns red and he grips the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles turn white.

“Yes, I got fucking tested. I told you that I haven’t fucked a woman without a condom since the last time I was tested, and I’ve gone back and been tested more than once since then. You think that I would hurt you like that, ever? The woman I love? The woman I want to carry my kids? Fucking hell, Hattie.”

“What you just told me, that’s a lot to take in,” I whisper, trying to keep my eyes from watering with tears.

“I’m not
Dirty Johnny
to you, Hattie. I’m just Johnny Williams, your man. The road name’s just a name, princess,” he murmurs as his hand cups mine.

“I’m sorry. I’m just freaked out,” I say as I look into his chocolate eyes.

“Remember what I said? I’m yours and you’re mine, and there’s nobody else in this with us,” he growls.

“Okay, Johnny,” I murmur.

“That includes the past. I don’t want to know who else has been inside of you. I know you weren’t a virgin, and that’s fine. Those other pricks don’t exist. They just don’t,” he announces.

“I love you, Johnny,” I whisper.

He grunts without replying.

“I love you and I shouldn’t have freaked out,” I murmur.

“I fuckin’ love you, Hattie,” he sighs as he turns his head to look at me. “Let’s get you inside and you can apologize later.”

“By sucking your dick?” I ask, arching a brow.

“Fuck yeah, princess.”

I giggle as I step out of the car, careful not to send my cake flying to the ground. We don’t say another word as we walk into the clubhouse bar. I’m thankful that the party is indeed indoors. I look around and see Kentlee, Rosie, and Brentlee at a table arranging food. I whisper to Johnny that I’m going to put my cake down, and he informs me that he’ll be at the bar.

“Hey,” Kentlee greets as I set my cake down.

“Hi,” I smile. “You missed the fireworks,” she says with wide eyes.

“What happened?” I frown, pinching my brows together.

“Well, everything was going great until MadDog, Fury’s dad, walked in with Mary-Anne on his arm,” Brentlee mutters. I look between the two sisters in confusion, not understanding who Mary-Anne is.

“Mary-Anne is Sniper’s sister—his
little
sister,” Kentlee explains.

“How little?” I ask in surprise.

“Well, MadDog has to be pushing sixty, and Mary-Anne is a year younger than me, so twenty-seven,” Brentlee says.

“I-I don’t even know…” I trail off when I watch Sniper storm out from a hallway and walk straight toward Brentlee.

“Holy shit, he looks pissed,” Kentlee mutters.