The last two weeks, I’ve felt settled. I don’t know how it happened, but Paxton and I have found ourselves in a routine. He’s taken some of the safety precautions down a notch, since nothing has happened to anyone. He allows me to drive to and from work in his Rachero alone; but I’m only allowed to be scheduled for work when Lisandro is there as well, which I don’t mind even a bit.
“You want lunch?” Lis asks.
“No, I’m not feeling well,” I murmur.
“It’s the giant ring weighing on your finger. It’s making your equilibrium off,” he chuckles, lifting his chin to my new wedding ring.
The ring is a bit much, a little ostentatious and absurd, but I love it, nonetheless. I didn’t want a traditional wedding set. I’d had a small white gold wedding band for our original marriage that I keep in my makeup bag, but we’re not those same people anymore.
I decided to pick something different, yet beautiful. Lisandro just started carrying LeVian, and I fell in love with a cushion cut, peach Morganite stone ring. It sits in a strawberry gold band, with vanilla and chocolate diamonds surrounding it.
“Do you think it’s too big?” I say with a frown, looking down at my hand.
“Not in the slightest. It’s gorgeous, and I gave him wholesale. If you’re worried about price, don’t be,” he smiles with a wink before walking up to me. “You sure no lunch?”
“I’m sure,” I sigh.
“This because you’re going to one of their parties tonight?” he asks as he gathers his things to head to lunch.
“No,” I lie. Lis rolls his eyes and walks out of the shop.
I’ve become friends with the Old Ladies I’ve met, and I really like them. But tonight is different. It’s a party, and not a family barbeque. Paxton has already warned me what it’s going to be like, and I’m more than just a little nervous.
I’m so nervous I’m sick. I shouldn’t be. It’s not as though Paxton will do anything or let anything happen to me, but it’s the unknown and the whores. I’m still not comfortable with the fact that Paxton has slept with at least one of the whores at the clubhouse; and I honestly never want to see Honey ever again.
“What a surprise to see you here,” a man’s voice says. I look up in shock.
It’s Mr. Garcia, from my old job. I feel that unease wash over me at seeing him again. He creeped me out, totally creeped me out. He seemed really nice the first time I met him, although his gaze was a little intense, but it was the way he asked me out; that made me completely uneasy.
Now that he’s in front of me, it’s even creepier, I don’t know how the hell he even found me. His beady eyes roam from my waist up to my face and then settle on my breasts with a grin before he lifts them to my eyes again.
“How can I help you?” I ask.
“You stood me up,” he grunts, stepping closer to me.
“I—I’m sorry. My husband and I got back together,” I truthfully admit.
“Husband,” he states as his eyes dart down to my hand.
“We were separated,” I explain.
I don’t know why I feel the need to explain a damn thing to him. I’d already told him we were estranged when he asked me out.
“Hmmm,” he hums as he starts walking around, looking at the display cases.
He shoves his hands in his pockets but doesn’t say anything else. He just roams around the store, whistling as he does, making my heart race with each step he takes.
“I don’t see what I’m looking for. It was lovely to see you again, Cleo,” he murmurs before he walks out of the store.
My shoulders sag as I let out the breath I had been holding, then my mind starts racing. No way could that have been a coincidence. We’re several hours out of the city, and I haven’t been back. As far as I know, my landlord has dumped everything in my apartment and someone else is sleeping in my old bed.
“You look really sick now,” Lisandro says. I blink, unaware of when he walked into the shop.
“I just, can I go into the back and rest a little?” I ask.
“Yeah, sweetie pie, go right ahead.”
I ignore the look of concern that crosses his features and make my way to the back of the shop. I feel unsettled and scared. I haven’t ever felt this way before, not since Mr. Garcia asked me out. He’s not right. There’s something in his gaze that frightens me.
By the time that I’m calmed down, I’ve decided that I’m overreacting. A lot of people come to Redding from the city, to get away or whatever. That must have been what he was doing.
I overreacted, again, just like I did when I ran away to Lis and Theo’s in the first place. Absolutely nothing has happened, and even Paxton’s club hasn’t seemed concerned about anything at all. It’s just me being a complete scardy cat, as usual.
I nod to myself, then go back out on the floor, assuring Lisandro that I’m feeling much better. He eyes me wearily throughout the rest of the day, but he doesn’t say anything else to me.
“I’ll see you Monday morning,” I announce as I grab my purse.
“Next weekend at your place still?” he asks.
I smile, excited to host our first party at our new house. It’s pretty much all set up now, but I still have some things to hang on the walls. We’re going to have a low-key barbeque with Theo and Lisandro, plus all of Paxton’s friends.
“Yeah, Saturday after work until whenever. But you guys are staying with us, right?” I ask.
“Planning on it, sweetie pie,” he laughs with a wink.
“We’ll sip mimosas by the pool Sunday morning,” I squeal.
Lisandro grins and shakes his head, but I can tell he’s really excited, too. I leave work with a wave back at him, and then I head home to Paxton, to this party that he wants me to go to—this party I definitely don’t want to attend.
Four weeks later I find myself looking into a mirror. I suck in my stomach and turn to the side. The mirror doesn’t lie, and the person looking back at me looks sexy, but I don’t feel sexy. Paxton should be here any minute to pick me up, and I fluff up my hair before I apply more lipstick.
I’m wearing a pair of skin tight black jeans, with rips and tears in the knees. Mary-Anne talked me into buying them. I’ve also got on an off the shoulder, light grey sweater that hits right at my hips and hangs loosely on my body, showing off my shoulder tattoo, but leaving my curves more of an illusion instead of highlighting them.
Stepping into the nude high heels, I fluff up my dark red hair, which seems to stand out even more in the neutral outfit, before I suck in a deep breath and turn my bedroom lights off.
“Clee, baby, you ready?” Paxton calls out as the front door slams.
I step out into the living room and take him in. He’s got his phone in his hand and he looks like he’s texting. He’s wearing a pair of faded blue jeans, a tight black shirt, which hugs his chest, and his, vest, which I learned is called a cut, over his strong body.
Black motorcycle boots, of course, finish his look, and his hair is messed up, probably from his helmet. He shouldn’t be riding his bike in this cold weather, but I’ve been using his car. I really need to get my own. It’s not safe for him to be on his bike.
“I’m ready,” I murmur.
Paxton lifts his head, and I watch as his eyes scan me from head to foot and then back up before they connect with my eyes.
“Sweetheart,” he murmurs.
I press my lips and my legs together at the same time. We haven’t had any rough sex in weeks. Not since he took me to get my nipples pierced. It’s been four weeks, and they’re almost completely healed. Paxton did exactly what he said he would. He bought me nipple bar piercings with diamonds on each end. They’re sexy as hell, sexier than I thought they would be, and I don’t regret it at all—except that he hasn’t been able to really touch them in weeks.
“Stop lookin’ at me like that or I’m gonna have to fuck you before we go,” he warns.
“That’s a bad thing?” I ask.
Without a word, he stalks up to me, his hands finding purchase on my ass as he pulls me against his chest. I moan as my sensitive nipples press against my lacey bra, and my eyes roll in the back of my head. He doesn’t kiss my lips, probably because he doesn’t want to get my deep berry lipstick on his face, but instead, his lips suck on my earlobe.
“You need me to fuck you?” he rasps against my ear, his hot breath fanning over my skin.
“Pax,” I whimper.
“You’re gonna have to tell me, Clee. What do you want?” he asks.
I don’t say anything. Rather, I unbutton his pants and shove my hand down his boxers, wrapping my fingers around his cock. I stroke him hard and fast a few times before he moans and backs out of my grasp.
“On your knees, sweetheart,” he orders.
I fall to my knees without hesitation, pulling his jeans down on my way. Paxton’s cock juts out toward me, and I can’t stop myself from licking the tip before I swirl my tongue around it. His hand flies to my hair as he applies pressure to the back of my head, silently urging me to take all of him into my mouth. Then he lets me go, and I look up at him in confusion.
Taking my sweater, he lifts it up over my head with a whoosh before he unclasps my bra within seconds, tugging it down my arms and tossing it behind me to join my sweater that he so casually threw off.
My entire body trembles as he lowers and his fingers gently dance over my nipples, touching the bar piercings on each one before he stands up straight and wraps his hand around the back of my head again.
“Open.”
My mouth falls open and he gently sinks down my throat, his blue eyes staying focused on mine until he’s as far down as I can take him. I breathe through my nose, relaxing my throat as he sinks a little further, and then he grins before he bites his bottom lip.
“My name on your shoulder, my diamonds in your tits, and my ring on your finger as you wrap your red lips around my cock. Most beautiful fuckin’ sight I have ever seen, sweetheart,” he rasps.
I stay still, the way I know that he likes, and he slowly starts to fuck my mouth. His jaw clenches as his eyes continue to roam over me, dancing along my breasts, to my shoulder, and then to my eyes. I’ve never felt so desired and beautiful and sexy all at the same time.
“I’m comin’ down your throat, then tonight I’ll take care of you,” he growls as he picks up his pace, fucking my mouth, his thrusts picking up their pace. I whimper, so turned on that the thought of waiting until later this evening feels almost agonizing.
“Fuck,” he hisses.
His cock grows larger in my mouth as his hips buck, and then he buries himself all the way down my throat and comes on a long moan. He doesn’t stay buried for long. He quickly pulls himself out and then moves his hand from the back of my hair to cup my cheek.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful, Clee,” he rasps as his thumb wipes my mouth clean. “Go get yourself put back together and we’ll leave.”
“Paxton, you’re really making me wait?” I ask on a whine.
“Yeah, you’re gonna wait, Cleo. I’ll take care of you,” he practically whispers. I can’t help myself, and I pout. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he chuckles as he moves his hand and holds it out for me to help me up.
“You’re awful.”
“I’m gonna get my wife drunk, and then I’m gonna fuck her until the sun comes up, how’s that sound?” he asks. I sway in my spot.
“Really?” I breathe.
“Really, sweetheart,” he laughs lightly as he lowers his head and places a kiss on each of my nipples. “How they feelin’?”
“Good. They’re practically healed,” I whisper.
“I’ll play a little tonight, but I’ll make sure I’m gentle,” he murmurs. I bite my bottom lip trying to keep from begging for his touch, for more of him, for all of him right now. “Run now, baby.”
I turn away from him and grab my bra and sweater as I make my way back to the bathroom. After I slip on my clothes, my eyes widen at the sight of my face. I’m flush, and my hair a little wilder than before, which is all super sexy, but my lips are smeared. I hurry and fix myself before I shuffle out of the bathroom and back to Paxton.
“Ready now?” he asks, lifting a brow.
“Ready,” I mumble solemnly.
“Hey,” he calls as he wraps his arm around my waist to stall me. I look up at him, still pouting like a child. “You’ll have fun, and we’ll end the night in bed, naked.”
“Okay,” I shrug.
“What do I have to do to make my girl smile?” he asks with a grin.
“Make me come?” I ask lifting a brow.
“Sweetheart,” he groans as his hand smacks my ass. “Later. Swear it, babe.”
I huff out an exasperated breath, overly exaggerated of course, and walk toward his car. I wait for him to open the door, something he schooled me on a few weeks ago. Apparently, my husband is a gentleman, a biker gentleman.
The air around the clubhouse is charged. Everyone is celebrating, but only the brothers know why. Tonight, four major players of The Cartel were brought down in New York by our friends in the Russian Bratva.
MadDog’s contact down south, Kirill, told him of the plan, and tonight it was to be executed. It’s a reason to celebrate as much as it’s a reason to ramp up our vigilance. There could be blowback, but we’re all fairly certain it won’t be toward us.
“You want a beer or something else?” I whisper against Cleo’s temple.
“Something stronger,” she announces.
I look down at her in surprise. Cleo usually drinks a fancy vanilla beer at night, or a glass of white wine. Since we’ve been together, I’ve never actually seen her consume anything harder, even twelve years ago. She’s staring at something, and I turn to follow her line of sight and groan.
Honey is dancing on one of the tables, her top off, wearing a pair of high heels and a g-string.
“You gotta ignore that shit, sweetheart,” I murmur against her ear before I start to walk us toward the bar.
“That trainwreck is impossible to ignore,” she says. It makes me laugh.
“Tequila, two glasses,” I call out to the prospect behind the bar before I turn to her. “She’s just doin’ her job. And she’s on the complete opposite side of the room.”
“Has she hit on you at all since we’ve been together, since we moved out of here?”
I grab the bottle of tequila and the two glasses with one hand before wrapping my other hand around hers and tugging her toward the group of Old Ladies that I know she’s become friendly with, hoping to end this conversation.
“Paxton,” she calls out. I stop, turning to face her.
“Yeah, sweetheart, she has. I turned her down, so I didn’t bother mentioning it. It wasn’t worth it. She’s not worth it,” I inform her before I turn around, dropping her hand and walking away, hoping she’ll follow me. I’m not wrong, and I can feel her tits pressing against my back a few seconds later. Then we’re with our friends.
I drop the bottle of tequila on the table and fill my shot glass before I down it in one swallow. I watch in surprise as she does the same. I wait for her to cough, but she doesn’t. Instead, she grins.
“You’re fuckin’ crazy,” I mumble as I wrap my hand around her hip and tug her closer to me.
“I could list all the things you are, but I won’t,” she mutters as she fills both of our glasses again.
“Damn right you won’t, not if you want to come later,” I whisper against her tatted shoulder before placing a kiss there. She stomps her foot, and I can’t stop the smile from appearing on my lips.
“Are you all moved in?” Mary-Anne asks, looking between us. I watch as MadDog wraps his arm around her waist and places his hand on her small, round baby bump.
“Yeah, the rest of our furniture was delivered a couple days ago. I think we have everything we need now,” Cleo says, nodding her head.
“Better have it all, as much as all that shit cost me,” I grunt.
MadDog grins and shakes his head once.
“Brother, just wait until you add kids,” he chuckles. “Better not even ask the price, just hand over the cash.”
“Max,” Mary-Anne hisses as she turns her head to look up at him.
“Sweetness, we’re buyin’ shit I’ve never even heard of before. Pretty sure Pierce didn’t have half of the shit this new baby’s got,” he grunts.
“We can just take it all back and put the baby in a dresser drawer in our room, I guess,” she says. I look down at my boots, trying not to laugh.
A few seconds of silence has me looking up to them, and I see that Prez is whispering into his woman’s ear as his hand rubs her belly. I then watch as a lazy smile appears on her face. I squeeze Cleo’s hip and look down at her.
“You good, sweetheart?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she whispers, looking up at me, her dark lips plump and inviting.
I reach beside us and hand her her full shot glass before I take my own. Once we clink glasses together, we down it.
“I’m gonna need that whole bottle,” Ivy says as she walks up behind us.
“What’s wrong?” Cleo asks her as Camo laughs, grabbing a handful of his woman’s ass.
“My brother is fucking that Serina girl again. It’s so gross,” she says as she gags a little.
We all look over to where the brothers are getting wild with the whores. Sure enough, there’s Grease, Ivy’s brother, with Serina bent over the pool table. It looks like he’s fuckin’ her in the ass, which would seem par for the course. That bitch absolutely loves taking it up the ass.
We spend the rest of the evening drinking, talking, laughing and just having a good time. Prez and Mary-Anne leave first, Mary growing tired quickly from her pregnancy. But then the rest of us continue on the evening, and I can tell that Cleo is having fun.
I press my lips behind her ear before she giggles at something that Ivy says, and Colleen rolls her eyes, curling closer to Texas’ side.
“Ready for bed, sweetheart,” I whisper.
“Really?” she breathes before she turns around and smiles up at me lazily.
“Yeah, really,” I grind out, clinching my jaw together, trying to keep from fuckin’ her right here in front of everyone. She looks so goddamn sweet.
“Bye everyone,” Cleo calls out with a wave, wrapping her hand around mine and hurrying toward my room.
I laugh the entire time. I also watch her ass in her tight jeans, knowing that I’m going to be fucking her in just a matter of minutes.
This fuckin’ crazy woman.
Goddamn.
I love her.