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Hayden
“We were running late before, you know?” I grumble, straightening my dress — a new dress because my old one was used to clean off my face. Michael did it gently, but he still used my dress. Michael taking the time to give me two orgasms isn’t really something to complain about. Neither is the fact that I felt the need to reciprocate—after all that’s on me, and not him. Besides, I’m in no way complaining about that anyways. Still, instead of letting me suck him off and swallow, he proceeded to shower me with his cum. He did this messily, but I was deep in the zone of sucking my man off and lost in the joy of it, so I didn’t care. Complaining didn’t come until I realized he used my dress to clean me off and then more complaining when I came to the realization I also had to re-shower, re-makeup, plus pick out a new outfit… in other words everything.
I don’t know why I’m so nervous about staying at the club, but I am. Skull, Beth and all of his family there have been good to me. They have. Still, I get the sense that there are a few of them who blame me for Michael not coming back into the fold. I’m not.
Honestly, I would follow Michael anywhere. With my past experience, I’m nervous around a clubhouse, but his crew is much different than anything I ‘d ever seen. They’re more like a family. Okay, it’s a given that even though it’s a family, it’s a rowdy family and there are men who still like booze and women and enjoy it freely—but still, it’s a family. I could adapt. Michael is the one that said he wasn’t going back. I don’t completely understand, but I’m not questioning him either. My place is to stand beside him, giving him support… and complain when he makes us late.
Which is what I’m doing.
“Didn’t hear you complaining in the bed after round one, Beauty,” he mutters. My eyes automatically go back to Connor who is zoned out watching a movie with headphones on and Ryker who is sound asleep again. He was awake for about an hour after his nap and normally he’s good most of the day, but riding in a car always makes him sleepy. Which means, it wasn’t long into our journey before he drifted off again.
“Michael—”
“Or when you got round two for that matter.”
“Ugh,” I mumbled, Michael has this annoying habit of being logical.
“Or later when you got down on your knees and begged—”
“You didn’t have to use my dress, and screw up my makeup,” I grumble.
“Is this what we’ve come to now, Beauty?”
“What we’ve come to?” I ask. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, now that we have the boys and now that Axel is almost here, we’re going to be the couple who fucks on a schedule—”
“Can you not say fuck in front of the kids?” I mutter, checking to make sure Connor is still occupied and Ryker’s still sleeping.
Michael takes his eyes off the road for like a nanosecond to flash me that look. The one that says he’s going to say fuck again and I might as well get used to it.
I sigh.
“And you’re going to be the type of woman who, when I get a mind to fuck you, will look at me and say, ‘Don’t mess up my hair,’.”
“I have never told you not to mess my hair up,” I grumble.
“I know,” he says and when I look over at him, my heart stumbles when I take in his smile.
Michael’s beard is more manageable these days. He doesn’t use it to hide behind and I like the change. His hair has been cut to just above his shoulders, still long but it’s gone from mountain-man-could-be-axe-wielding-murderer to panty-melting-hot-as-fuck-ex-biker-deliciousness. Which I love in general, but I probably love more because I can actually see his smile, read his happiness, and with everything he’s been through, that’s a precious gift that I will never take for granted.
“It wouldn’t do any good anyway,” I grumble, because he looks a tad too arrogant.
“I know,” he grins, proving he is extremely cocky.
I roll my eyes and look out the window, but I do it smiling.
“We’ll be there before long,” I murmur, a few minutes later.
Michael reaches over, links our fingers together, before settling our joined hands on his leg.
“It’s going to be fine,” he says, squeezing my hand.
“I know,” I answer, hoping he’s right. It’s important that I’m accepted by his family. I don’t want to disappoint Michael and I know he loves Skull and the others.
“It’s going to be fine, Beauty,” he says again, adding in my nickname.
“I love you, Michael,” I tell him, finally looking at him so he can read my face, see the love I have for him.
