Chapter 9
Chapter nine
Pretty Boy
The festivities ran late into the night. Sometime around three o’clock in the morning, I was getting ready to call it quits and head home when Hillbilly appeared at my side. He hooked an arm around my shoulder.
“Hey, boss,” I said. “How are you enjoying the party?”
He shook his head and thumped my chest amiably.
“You don’t have to call me that anymore, remember? You’re the big boss man now.”
“As long as you’re the club’s founder, that makes you the boss for life.”
He chuckled and poured me a shot of whiskey.
“Fair point. Look, I had a feeling there was something going on that y’all weren’t telling me about.”
I blinked at him, saying nothing.
“Don’t worry, I won’t grill you,” Hillbilly added. “I already pestered Ironside until he caved. He explained the whole ordeal with Sweeney and how you handled the situation.”
“Damn it,” I muttered, tossing the shot of whiskey back. “I should have known someone would break eventually. But I never suspected it would be good ol’ Ironside.”
“Ah, but you didn’t account for the fact that he’s an old dog like me. So, naturally, we would stick together. Anyway, I just wanted to personally apologize. My bullshit wasn’t supposed to end up in your lap.”
“Technically, it landed in Lila’s lap first."
“Yeah.” Hillbilly heaved a sigh and adjusted his arm on my shoulder. “I wanted to talk about her, too.”
Then his arm tightened around my neck with a squeeze like a boa constrictor.
“I might be an old dog who’s slowing down, and the club is a younger man’s game,” Hillbilly said. “But I’m not blind. I see the way you look at my daughter. And I see the way she looks at you.”
“I can explain—” I croaked.
He squeezed even tighter. It was getting hard to breathe now, and pressure began to build in my head, throbbing at my temples.
“I don’t need an explanation,” Hillbilly said. “I was young once. I looked at Lila’s mother the same way. Marina had been a university exchange student at the time, visiting from Brazil. We went up in flames at the snap of my fingers. Nine months later, Lila was born.”
I dug my fingers into Hillbilly’s forearm, pressed against my windpipe.
“Now, I’m not a prude,” he continued in a conversational tone, as if I wasn’t wheezing for air. “I’m well aware that my daughter is an adult. She can sleep with anyone she wants to.”
“Yes, sir,” I rasped.
“But you…” Hillbilly’s tone dropped to a menacing level. “You are different. She really, really likes you.”
I managed a sound between a gasp and an incredulous laugh.
“That’s news to me.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t play dumb. You two fight like cats and dogs precisely because you’re attracted to each other.”
I clawed at Hillbilly’s arm, attempting to get some relief.
“Is this…is this the part where you…give me the talk? Threaten to…shoot me if I break your daughter’s heart?”
Hillbilly shrugged.
“Nah. Why bother? Lila would have your balls for a trophy. That should be enough of a threat to make you act right.”
“So…why are you…choking me?”
Hillbilly deliberated for a moment.
“If you’re not serious about her,” he said at last. “If this is all fun and games to you to get your dick wet, leave her the fuck alone. Is that clear? Lila is strong, and stubborn, and she can put up one hell of a fight. But I will not stand by while you break her heart for the hell of it. I don’t care how old and infirm I get.
I don’t care that you’re forty years younger than me.
I will bury you if you make my little girl cry. ”
I nodded, signaling I understood his meaning loud and clear. Finally, Hillbilly released me. I sucked in a gulp of air.
He patted me on the back with enough force that I lurched forward a step.
“Good talk,” he said. “You better hope to God that I never repeat myself.”
I lived in a trailer park, a ten minute ride from the clubhouse. By the time I parked and trudged into my trailer, yawning, it was closing in on 4am. I draped my cut on a hook on the back of my bedroom door, brushed my teeth, and stripped down, dropping into bed.
Just as my eyes slipped closed, the door to my trailer slammed open.
I sat bolt upright, alert.
A moment later, my bedroom light blazed in my eyes. I squinted with a groan. Lila stood in the doorway, hands on her hips.
“Are you going to ask me or not?” she demanded.
I sighed and sank back against the pillows, draping an arm across my eyes.
“Ask you what? The fact that you don’t know how to knock before barging in to a man’s private home?”
“Oh, stop whining,” Lila huffed. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before. And besides, you can’t say no to me anyway.”
I snorted a dry laugh of amusement. I couldn’t argue with that.
“Well, it’s four o’clock in the morning,” I replied. “Can’t we talk later? Maybe around noon? After a cup of coffee.”
Lila hummed and flicked off the light. Rustling fabric made me crack one eye open. Wan light filtered in through the blinds, illuminating her silhouette as she undressed. My cock twitched against the sheets. She peeled her clothes off, piece by piece.
My fatigue vanished and I moved my arm aside to watch the show.
“I guess we could wait to talk about it later,” Lila relented. “But if you wait too long, someone else might ask me to marry them. And there’s a very good chance I’ll say yes. Just to spite you.”
My mouth went dry, and not because Lila’s tits were beautifully bare and on full display.
Although that was certainly part of it. Never in a million years would I have thought that Lila would be the one to bring up the topic of marriage before I did.
Hell, I figured she would fight me tooth and nail on it.
I cleared my throat, struggling to focus while Lila shimmied out of her jeans and panties.
“Where exactly is this coming from?”
Lila stood over me, gloriously naked. And I wished she’d left the lights on.
“I believe your exact words were…that’s my future wife you’re talking about. Have some fucking respect.”
Shit.
She peeled the sheets back, sliding into bed.
My heart hammered against my chest as she snuggled against me, skin to skin.
She hooked her leg over mine and lazily brushed her fingers against my half hard cock, toying with it like a cat with a mouse that clearly had no intention of doing anything more than tease for her own amusement.
“You…weren’t supposed to hear that,” I said.
“I know. But I did. So, are you going to man up and ask me? Or are you going to chicken out and take it back?”
I frowned into the dark, trying to puzzle out what Lila’s angle was here. It felt like a trap. There was no way she would agree to marriage this easily, let alone voluntarily.
When I imagined marrying Lila, making her my wife, I had pictured years of arguments, trying to win her over.
Tentatively, I wrapped my arm around Lila, pressing my lips to her temple. She gave a little purr of contentment.
“Are you drunk again?” I asked.
She jabbed me in the ribs. I flinched.
“I had two beers tonight," she said. "That’s all.”
“Then why are you being…” I trailed off, searching for the right words. “Nice?”
Lila gave a wicked laugh, nuzzling even closer. She kissed my neck, slow and lazy. I swore softly under my breath as my cock surged.
“You sound nervous,” she mused. “Why are you nervous?”
“Because you’re never this nice and it’s freaking me out. It feels like a trap.”
She pumped my cock with a few languid strokes, circling the crown with her thumb.
“If you don’t want to marry me, you can just say so.”
I tightened my arm around her.
“If I said that, it would be a lie, and I have this gut feeling you wouldn’t appreciate that.”
Lila made a thoughtful noise. She released my cock and I stifled a whimper of disappointment. Then she cupped my balls possessively.
“No,” she said with steel in her voice. “I wouldn’t.”
I caught her wrist and pulled her hand away. Rolling Lila onto her back, I slotted my hips between her thick thighs and smoothed her hair back to look into her eyes.
“Why are you here, Lila?” I said firmly. “Why are you bringing up marriage instead of running the other way? I was so sure that you would rip me a new one for even thinking about marrying you, let alone popping the question.”
Lila bit her lower lip, angling her hips up.
“You’re not the first person to mention marriage to me,” she said. “But you’re the only one who made me wet when you said those words. My fucking wife. I want to hear you say them, again and again, for the rest of my life.”
The breath punched out of me. The air between us crackled with sexual tension. I slipped my hand between her thighs, dipping my fingers into her pussy.
Soaking wet. Just like she said.
My cock throbbed to ramrod levels of hardness. I teased the tip at her entrance, stifling a groan when I felt her scorching heat. As tempting as it was to sink into her right away, there was still one pesky little detail that nagged at me.
“I don’t have a ring yet,” I said. “And I don’t exactly have the cash to buy one at the moment. I can’t walk around saying that you’re going to be my wife without putting a ring on your finger. Your dad would kill me.”
Lila laughed and locked her legs around my waist. She reached between us, grasping my cock and guiding me home. Hooking her hand around the back of my neck, she pulled me down on top of her, sealing her mouth to mine.
“You’re the President, baby. I’ll wear your name on my back. Property of Pretty Boy. That’s the equivalent to an engagement ring in the club anyway.”
Goddamn. The thought of Lila wearing that was sheer heaven.
“Ask me,” Lila whispered against my mouth.
I fisted my hand in her hair, rutting against her hip, my cock trapped between us.
“Will you marry me? Be my wife, my Old Lady?”
Her eyes gleamed.
“You bet your ass I will. But only if you stop talking and fuck me already.”
I breathed a faint laugh, lining up at her entrance. Then I stopped with a grunt and started to turn away.
“Shit, wait, I need a condom—”
Lila tightened her legs around my waist, preventing me from moving.
“Are you clean?”
“Yeah.”
“Then forget it. I’m on the pill. I need you inside me and you know I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
All thought was wiped from my brain as I slid into her tight, searing hot pussy. A gravel-rough moan tore from my throat. Lila grinned, draping her arms around my neck, bringing her tits flush against my chest.
“God, you fill me up so good,” she said with a sigh.
I slowly rolled my hips, watching the ecstasy play across her face with every thrust.
“Say it. Just this once. For me—your soon to be husband.”
Lila poked her tongue into her cheek with a coy look.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I chuckled, sucking a bruising kiss into her breast.
“Yes, you do. Admit it.”
She wrinkled her nose and clenched around my cock so hard that I grunted, fighting not to blow my load.
“Oh,” she said with faux sweetness. “You want me to admit that you don’t have a toothpick dick. You want me to stroke that massive ego of yours and tell you what a big, hard cock you have. I bet you’d love to hear me begging for it.”
There was the Lila I knew so well—sarcastic, playful, egging me on.
“Don’t stop now, sweetheart. You’re on a roll.”
Lila laughed and wiggled her hips. I grunted and planted a hand on her hip to hold her still.
“The only way that’s gonna happen is if you make me say it,” she said.
Challenge accepted.
I pulled out and gripped Lila’s ankles, tugging her to the foot of the bed. Rolling her over, I slid my hand down her back, coaxing her head down and her ass up.
I almost came right then, untouched, seeing her spread out so beautifully for me. That peachy ass in the air, juicy thighs, the arch of her spine.
I came up behind her, toying with her clit until she was whining and shaking with need. Then I lined my cock up and slid in deep, grinding at just the right angle for my balls to rub against her sensitive clit.
Lila let out a wrecked moan, clutching fistfuls of my sheets.
“Holy fuck, you’re so breathtakingly beautiful like this, Lila,” I growled.
The way her ass and thighs rippled with every thrust flipped an animalistic switch in my brain. With nothing between us, I pounded into her, chasing those breathless little sounds she muffled in the mattress.
Her walls fluttered and her body trembled from head to toe, every muscle tightening like a thread about to snap.
Lila reached back, hand outstretched, searching for me. I grabbed her hand, interlacing our fingers together.
“I’m so close,” she panted.
Bending over her, I pressed Lila into the mattress, thrusting and grinding as deep as I could possibly go. The slick squelch of her dripping pussy mingled in the air with her gasps and whimpers.
“Say it,” I murmured in her ear, pulling nearly all the way out and driving in again. “You can do it, sweetheart. Tell me what I want to hear or I’ll stop—”
“Make me come,” she pleaded. “Make me come all over your big, hard, gorgeous fucking cock.”
Grinning to myself, I buried my cock deep and pulsed, punching against her G-spot over and over. Lila’s whine reached a feverish pitch. She shifted beneath my weight, working an arm under body to get to her clit.
“That’s my girl,” I crooned in her ear. “Touch yourself for me. Milk me dry for every drop.”
Lila’s orgasm crashed over her. She seized beneath me, squeezing my hand so tight that it was a miracle she didn’t break any bones. Gripping her hip for leverage, I tried to keep pumping through it.
But my own orgasm followed after a few thrusts and I couldn’t hold out any longer. I came with a groan, burying my face in the back of her neck.
We sagged together in a sticky, sweaty heap. When I started to pull out, Lila mumbled something incoherent and reached back, clutching my hip to hold me in place.
I smiled and propped my arms on the mattress, caging her under my body. I peppered kisses across her shoulders and down her spine.
“You’re sounding a little cock drunk, honey,” I said, amused. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
Lila grumbled as she lifted her head to speak.
“My legs feel like jelly, you smug bastard.”
I laughed, adjusting our position on the bed so I didn’t have to pull out. Tucking Lila into the curve of my body, I nestled her ass against my groin, cupping her tits in my hands.
And I fell asleep holding my bride-to-be in my arms.