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Bailey narrowed her eyes. “Wrap it up asshole. I’m not ready to be anyone’s mom.”
Sighing, I nodded. “Alright baby. We’ll do it your way for now. Can I hold you?”
“I’m not stopping you.” She smiled.
I didn’t need to be told twice as I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her to me as my heart burst. All the worry and fear faded as peace settled around me. In the short time I knew Avonleigh Rose Bailey, she had become my everything. I don’t know how it happened or when, but she was mine. My perfect mate. The one woman who was my equal, and I loved her more than the air in my lungs.
Cupping her face, I lowered my lips to hers, putting all the love I had and felt into it. I needed her to know that she was it for me. There would never be another one like her. She was mine. The mother of my future children and when the time came for me to leave this world, I wanted her face to be the last thing I saw.
“Oh, good. You made up,” Beth grinned, walking into the stockroom as if this was a normal occurrence. “Jamie, where did I put the mason jar? The one with King’s name on it.”
“On Mr. Mike’s desk.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
Never taking my eyes off Bailey, I said. “Beth, I told Mike to give that money to Sarah.”
“Oh, he did. But that’s not what I need it for,” she chuckled before walking away. Turning to look at her, I asked. “Woman, what are you up to?”
“Never you mind!” Her voice faded as she disappeared.
Shaking my head, I looked down at Bailey. “You ready to go home, Cupcake?”
When she nodded, I took her hand in mine and did just that.
The second I walked her into the clubhouse, my woman climbed me like a fucking tree and planted her lips on mine. I knew what she wanted, and I did too. I just prayed we made it to my bedroom before she started ripping off clothes. There was no fucking way I was going to allow my brothers to see my woman naked.
Well, all except Scribe, which reminded me I still owed him an ass beating.
The second we were behind closed doors, it was on like Donkey Kong. We had weeks of make-up sex to get through and I wasn’t leaving until I thoroughly fucked her into a coma and my dick begged for mercy.
And I did just that.
The honeymoon lasted a whole forty-eight hours before life returned to normal. Bailey was on the warpath and I was once again hiding out in my office. Only this time, she wasn’t mad at me.
Nope, that honor went to Scribe this time. And it was possible his troubles were my doing. So, I let it slip and reminded Bailey that her bestie lied to her and saw her naked. How was I to know my woman held a grudge that rivaled the Hatfield’s and McCoy’s?
Served the fucking peeping tom right.
Looking up as my office door opened and quickly closed, I tried to hide my smile as Scribe leaned against the door, gasping for breath. My woman had a devious mind. I will give her that. Instead of kicking the shit out of her best friend, my woman got even in a more sinister way. Sporting a new tattoo of sorts, Scribe looked pissed.
“She maimed me!”
I ignored the fucker as I went back to going over the clubs’ businesses. Because of my stupidity, I ignored my responsibility and had a lot of shit I needed to catch up on. Scribe dug his hole. He could dig himself out of it.
“She’s mean, King!” Scribe whined. “Like really mean. It won’t come off! I tried everything.”
Papers forgotten I couldn’t hold my laugher in any longer as I stared at my brother. The easy-going, fun-loving horn-dog of the club, the man who made it his mission to fuck his way through the east coast population, was out of commission until his new tattoo faded. Sporting a very colorful and detailed sharpie tattoo of a woman’s vagina around his mouth. Scribe looked horrified. And when he talked, the lips of the vagina opened, making it look as if his mouth was orgasming. My woman was fucking brilliant, devious and detailed in her retribution for the club’s man whore.
“Guess you shouldn’t have lied to her then.”
“You told me too!”
“No, I told you to monitor her and give me daily reports. I never said pretend to be a gay man and ogle her while she was naked. Which reminds me. You and I have a date at the obstacle course this weekend.”
“Fuck,” my goofy brother sighed, hanging his head. “Fine. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have looked. But seriously, King. How can one of the world’s foremost tattoo artists not have any ink on her? It isn’t right. It makes no sense.”
“Maybe you should have asked before drooling over every inch of her body.”
