Epilogue
Eight Weeks Later
Things have been tense around the clubhouse. With everything going on with the mayoral race, it doesn’t seem like it will settle anytime soon.
Still, Bullet insisted on throwing an old lady party for me. We never got to do it up right, but now things are calm enough that we can.
I’m putting on eyeliner when I feel him. He doesn’t say anything. He just watches as I get ready for the party.
“You’re staring.”
Bullet pushes off the doorframe and walks toward me. He wraps his hands around my hips and presses me into the countertop. Through the mirror I watch as he begins to lay kisses along my neck.
“Bullet…you haven’t been cleared,” I warn, even though I tilt my head to the side, giving him more access.
Eight weeks. Eight weeks of pure torture. I feel like ever since Bullet woke up, he’s been teasing me for what’s to come.
“I was cleared this morning,” he says as he pulls me into him, and his hands move to the button on my jeans.
My breath catches.
Cleared. He’s finally been cleared to have sex.
“We shouldn’t. Everyone is out there waiting for us,” I say as I arch into him.
“They can wait.”
He slowly slides my jeans down my legs but doesn’t take them off. Instead, he stands before bending me over the sink.
“You look so beautiful with my name on your back. I haven’t properly been able to fuck you like you are mine, but we are going to change that right now.” His tone is all raspy as if this is what he has been thinking about all day.
“Don’t hurt yourself. I have plans for you later since you are cleared and all.”
So we haven’t been nuns. He has eaten me out and fingered me to keep me going for the past several weeks, but he wouldn’t even allow me to touch him. He claimed he didn’t want to derail his recovery. That’s done now.
“I think you have forgotten who is in control in this relationship. Should I remind you?”
Yes.
I don’t give in easily, though.
“No reminder needed. We all know it’s the pussy that controls things.”
I hear his jeans button pop before he slides his own jeans down his legs. I glance in the mirror, watching as he puts the condom on before lining up behind me.
“You’ll regret that,” he tells me before he thrusts into me in one go.
I arch my back into the pleasure, loving the feel of being so full of him. If I could, I would make him wear me like a koala bear with his cock buried deep inside of me at all times.
Alas, that is not acceptable.
All thoughts leave my head as he grabs my hair, pulling me back so he can kiss me. His free hand slides around my throat, squeezing lightly.
“Who owns you?”
I gasp before I meet his eye in the mirror. “You do.”
“Who am I to you?” he growls.
“My old man,” I answer without hesitation.
“And who is in control?”
I can feel my orgasm coming as I yell, “I am.”
He stops suddenly, my pussy desperately trying to chase that high, but with zero movement, it evades me.
“Jacob,” I growl at him.
“Who is in control?” he asks again, his hand moving to my clit.
“I am, of course,” I tease him, attempting to grind back against him.
He smacks my ass, making it sting, but then he rubs it, making it tingle.
“I’ll ask one last time. Answer wrong and you won’t be getting an orgasm until tomorrow.” He growls. “Who.” Smack. “Is.” Smack. “In.” Smack. “Control?”
At the last smack, my pussy quivers. It wants what he is promising. It needs that release. While he is always good at making me come, I miss having his cock inside of me. I will always be a brat to him, but for tonight, I concede.
“You are, Jacob. You control me. You own me,” I pant out.
“Good girl,” he says, rubbing the red marks I have no doubt are on my ass.
Without another word, he begins to fuck me into the counter. I press back against him, meeting him for every thrust. I need the release I’m chasing. I feel like if I don’t get it, I won’t make it another moment.
I can feel myself on the edge. About to come when it finally happens. My pussy flutters around him wildly as he continues to rut into me.
This is more than making love. This isn’t even fucking. This is raw passion bleeding into one another. An utter devotion that cannot be matched.
I let my head rest against the counter as the aftershocks of my orgasm keep me in a blissful daze. He finally comes, leaning over me to whisper in my ear.
“You’re my angel. Always my angel.”
The words are a balm to my soul. They remind me of why I’m still alive.
Two years ago, I might have lost my best friend.
My mother. The guiding light of my life, but she was always going to leave me one day.
She knew I would find the one person who speaks to my soul the way that Jacob does.
I know she didn’t want to leave me, but I know she is happy to see me here with him.
She would be joyful for all the love he brings to my life.
I’m not over my grief one hundred percent. I still need hours of therapy before I will come close to that. I know I will need to talk with my dad and work on repairing what has been broken between us.
None of that matters right now, though.
Right now, in this moment all that matters is the man who promised to love me for the rest of his life.
“Everyone’s going to know what we were doing,” Harlee says as she runs a brush through her hair.
“Ask me if I care. Newsflash, I don’t,” I say, making her laugh.
“You won’t be saying that when my dad is glaring you down.”
She’s not wrong. While things have definitely changed between Honk and me, I still struggle with thinking that he’s going to change his mind and tell me I can’t be with Harlee.
Which is dumb, considering she wears my name on her back.
“All right, I’m ready,” she says as she sets down her hairbrush.
She walks toward me, and I take her hand. Side by side, we leave my room and head into the madness.
Brothers are playing pool, darts, and cards throughout the clubhouse, while other members drink at the bar. The party spills out into the backyard, where there’s a fire going.
“About time you joined us,” Kaitlyn teases from her spot at the bar.
Harlee’s face flushes. “Fuck off.”
Kaitlyn tosses her head back and laughs.
“That’s what your dad said when he walked by Bullet’s room twenty minutes ago,” Prospect One teases as he sets a bottle of water in front of Harlee without her having to ask.
“Wait, he walked by my room?”
“Yep. He heard his little girl moaning your name and took off outside looking a little green,” Kaitlyn teases.
Colt comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her. “Are you harassing the kids again, Little Mama?”
“Baby, I’ve never harassed a person in my life,” she says, batting her eyes.
Colt smiles down at her before looking back up at us. “Honk was looking a little ragey outside. I think Adalyn was trying to distract him.”
“Great,” Harlee moans.
Adalyn.
Everyone loves her. Well, everyone but Honk. For some reason he’s a raging asshole anytime she’s around. Which is a lot, considering she lives with him. How she puts up with him, we will never know. Harlee has gone toe-to-toe with her dad on more than one occasion trying to defend her friend.
It’s just fucking weird because Adalyn is nice as hell. Almost too nice if you ask me.
“We better go save her. We will talk to you guys later.” Harlee grabs her water and my hand and pulls me toward the door.
“Shit,” I mutter as soon as we step outside.
We watch as Adalyn approaches Honk with a bottle of water.
“Goddammit,” Harlee mutters as she rushes toward the impending fight.
Adalyn holds the bottle out to him, and like a dick, he refuses to take it.
“I told you I didn’t need a drink,” he snaps.
“I know, but I read online that if you have a beverage in your hand when you are around friends who are partaking in alcohol, it helps curb the desire to drink,” she tells him.
“I’m fine!”
“Dad!” Harlee yells.
He turns toward us and glares. “I’m not talking to you right now.”
“What, because you heard me having sex?” she says loudly, getting everyone’s attention.
Groaning, I pinch the bridge of my nose.
I know what my girl is doing. She’s getting the attention off of Adalyn to try to prevent her from further embarrassment.
“Harlee,” Honk hisses.
“Dad.”
“Are they always like this?” Hades asks nobody in particular.
“Always,” several of the guys say in unison.
Honk’s eyes soften as he stares at his daughter. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Now be nice to Adalyn. She’s done nothing wrong and is only trying to help.”
“It’s fine,” Adalyn cuts in.
Harlee shoots her a dirty look. “It’s not fine, and you know it. What did I tell you about not being a doormat?”
Adalyn flinches but nods. “You’re right.”
“Hey, what’s going on?” Reaper asks.
We turn and watch as he and Natalie approach. Natalie’s hair is messed up, and not just from the wind.
It looks like they had the same idea as Harlee and I did.
“Just reminding my father that kindness goes a long way,” Harlee says lightly.
Reaper nods as he looks over at Honk.
Honk tosses his hands up in the air. “What is this, pick on the old man day?”
“I mean, if the shoe fits,” Evelyn teases.
Reaper’s eyes dart to his sister. “When did you get here?”
“A while ago,” she tells him softly.
He opens his mouth to say something, but Natalie elbows him in the side, cutting him off.
I tug on Harlee’s hand, getting her attention. “Come on, let’s go sit.”
We make our way over to the firepit and I take a seat in one of the empty chairs. Harlee laughs as she falls into my lap.
“There is a perfectly good chair right next to you that I could sit in,” she teases.
“Yeah, but why should you when my lap is available?” I quip, making her smile.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Harlee,” Tara says as she and Natalie sit down next to us.
I watch as my girl falls into conversation with the old ladies easily, and I can’t help but smile.
My girl has come a long way over the last few months, and honestly, at one point I never thought we would end up here. I thought being with Harlee was a pipe dream and that she was on a one-way path to her grave, but she turned her life around.
I’m so fucking proud of her.
Harlee leans back into me, resting against my chest. My skin crawls, telling me someone is staring at us. I look up and see Honk staring at us from the other side of the fire pit. He looks at us with acceptance and longing.
He told me one night not long ago that sometimes it’s hard looking at Harlee because she looks like Eleanor. I had never noticed their resemblance until he mentioned it. I can’t imagine what that feels like, and I hope I never find out.
“Hey, are you okay?” Harlee asks as she brushes my hair away from my face.
I pull my eyes away from her dad and smile at her.
“I’m great.”
Then End.