21. Penelope
TWENTY-ONE
Somethingbright and warm was wrapped around me, like a fluffy cocoon or a burrito made of blankets.
I smiled at the way it felt against my closed eyelids and how relaxed I felt…then I snapped them open and sat up.
The hotel. The honeymoon.
Jameson.
The sun was cutting through the parted shades at the balcony, the warm ray caressing me where I lay on the bed. The side where Jamie was asleep last night was empty, in his place were a few wildflowers and a note. I snagged the small paper from the pillow.
I’ll be back later; the honeymoon was the perfect cover for checking in on the men who stayed behind in Richland. While I’m gone, feel free to use these on some new maternity clothes or baby clothes, anything you want. - J
Tucked inside an envelope were two plastic cards, one was a debit card, and the other a credit card. A pin was written down for the debit card, and while I knew in reality, I would have had to be present to open these accounts, I also knew how motorcycle clubs worked, when they didn’t follow any rules. I tilted the cards and saw my name on the bottom.
Penelope King.
A flutter of excitement climbed my chest at the sight of my new legal name in print. He’d given me access to his bank account? Not even Luke had ever done that, not even when we were living together. He’d hand me cash if I needed something but never a card, never anything that would link us like this.
Legally I owned half of anything Jamie did, and based off the room and the black Amex, he seemed to be doing okay for himself. I hadn’t signed a prenup, but if he decided to annul the wedding, then I just wouldn’t have access anymore, but I wouldn’t have to pay anything back.
Could I spend his money?
No.
Especially not after telling me this honeymoon was just a cover for him to sneak back into his territory. It shouldn’t matter, and I hated that it hurt. Of course he had ulterior plans when he’d booked this. While it was still sweet that he’d done this for me, it burned that it was strung together with cords connected to the Chaos Kings.
But, on the other hand, I hadn’t had any money in so long, not since I lost my job in Richland at the club. I bit my lip, thinking over how nice it would be to have something nice to wear, a new pair of jeans, or a shirt that actually covered my stomach the way a maternity shirt should. It was more than that though, using his money made me feel connected to him.
With determination, I climbed out of bed and started getting ready.
The suite was beautiful and relaxing. The balcony overlooked the entire city and beyond to where the ocean brushed up against the cliffs. I drank my decaffeinated coffee on the sun-soaked balcony while the cold December air brushed strands of hair off my neck and face, forcing my eyes to close. I wanted to freeze time and live in that exact moment. One where I wasn’t afraid, or an inconvenience. One where I wasn’t grieving the loss of my mom, or the loss of Luke…or the thought of what could have been.
I was just me, and now, for as long as I had him, I was Jamie’s.
Even if he didn’t want me.
Last night came rushing back, the way he’d toyed with me. Worked me up and then just fell asleep before anything happened. I wanted to yell at him, but he had looked so peaceful lying there in his soft sweats and tank top. In our bed, where I would sleep too. I worried if I woke him, he’d go to the couch and leave me all alone.
So I ate my food in silence and then set the tray on the dresser before curling under the covers next to him.
Maybe tonight I could bring that playful side of him out again. That feral hungry side…perhaps if I bought more lingerie.
At first, I worried I’d have to get an Uber or walk to the shops, but Kenny was waiting for me when I strode into the lobby.
“Mrs. King, good morning!”
“Morning.” I smiled kindly at him, noting the small nick on his jaw from shaving. He was likely nineteen or twenty, but still had his boyish features.
“Your husband informed me that I’m to drive you anywhere you want to go today. All gratuity and fees have been covered. I will happily take you to a few maternity shops as well as a great lunch spot.”
I resisted the urge to let the small consideration Jameson had made for me sink into my chest. This was an arrangement, nothing more.
It was nearly five when I finally stepped back into the hotel room, shopping bags in hand with a resigned smile on my face. I had plans to order room service, take another bath and then lounge on the balcony while reading through some labor and delivery material. The worry over not being prepared was starting to creep up on me.
The constant questions burrowing in my mind over whether or not I would keep living in the cabin or how long Jamie would want to keep up the farce.
How was I going to survive as a single mom?
The questions washed over me and began clouding my head as I set the bags down. I had purchased nursing bras, gowns and pajamas. Along with a few loose things I could easily slip into after the birth. I hadn’t gained much weight, but I had read that after the birth, all the weight distributed oddly, and it would be difficult to fit back into my jeans.
I’d even grabbed a new pair of walking shoes that weren’t too pricey. I had shopped at the outlet stores across town, far away from the luxury stores down the main strip of town. I had no need for designer clothes, and I could care less if my diaper bag was a popular brand. I just wanted my things to be functional.
My mom’s voice came back to me, nearly making a sob creep up my throat as I remembered picking out clothes with her in Walmart growing up.
Functional, Penny, but we can be fashionable too. Never pass up the chance for lace or leather, or especially leopard print.
Sliding into the tub, watching how the streaks of sunset began to cast a golden glow in the bathroom, I sunk down and began to cry. My mom had raised me without anyone. She’d kept me safe in a world that would have essentially made it impossible. I had never asked her why we continued to move from one club to another. I had never asked why she didn’t just break away from them all together, but part of me had pieced together that she had found a sense of safety in them. In their codes and laws.
She could work for them, have me, and still be protected from the sleazebags out there that would have normally taken advantage of her. Mom was gorgeous, and it was always noticeable anytime we went out in public that men would watch her. It wasn’t too soon before they’d began observing me too. The club had kept us safe. While I was exposed to a lot early in my life, at least no one had ever touched me without my permission.
Rubbing a hand over my stomach, I felt my son kick at my palm. More tears flowed as I pressed back. Another kick landed and then another.
“I wish you could have met your grandma.” Another soft kick landed, and I smiled.
“She wanted to meet you so bad, you have no idea.” I let out a sigh as more tears dripped from my lashes. “When I found out I was pregnant, she was the only person in my life that was excited with me. Just her. She took me to the store and bought me my very first onesie that said, ‘spoiled by grandma.’”
Choking on a small sob, I continued.
“I still have it. Planned to take it with me to the hospital and let it be your first outfit. We knew she had cancer when she bought it. I knew our time was a gamble; we still planned like the disease wasn’t eating at her organs. Hers was so advanced; she had a matter of months. But she still sent me places we could rent over by the ocean. Said you would be a water baby and love the sea. She never gave up hope that she’d have time with me.” I stroked my stomach again, letting water drip down it. “Or with you. She was so hopeful even until her last day on earth. She told me to love you enough for her love to shine through too.”
“You will.” Jameson’s voice sounded from the doorway behind me, forcing me to spin around in alarm.
His easy smile calmed me immediately. “Sorry, didn’t want to interrupt.”
I swiped at my face, which just soaked it more because my hands were wet from the bath. “How was your ride? Did you get everything accomplished that you needed to do?”
He walked closer, his eyes flicking down to my breasts.
“It was fine. I had to meet up with the members who are still stationed close to Richland. Needed to know if there was any news from Luke or Jefferson.”
I nodded, silently processing the gravity of what his inclusion did to my heart. It was standard that men did not include women in their secrets. Not their meetings or what they did. It was just a big question mark for us, and we always had to just accept that it was a part of the life. Luke had never shared anything with me when we were together. If there was ever business, he’d shut the door so I couldn’t hear, or he’d walk outside and never share it. But Jameson didn’t even seem to hesitate to include me.
He sat down on the lip of the tub, staring down at me.
“Did you have fun shopping today?”
I smiled up at him, tipping my head back. “I did, thank you. You didn’t have to?—”
He leaned down and quickly pressed his lips to mine.
It was so sudden, I let out a small yelp. He let me go but didn’t move. He was letting me decide, so I lifted my chin and wrapped a wet arm around his neck and pulled him closer.
Our mouths moved slow, like we had all the time in the world to explore and discover each other. His tongue slowly trailed over my bottom lip as if he were savoring the taste of it. I allowed him to pull it in between his teeth. I hissed as I stroked my tongue over him in the same way. Jamie groaned, slipping his hands into the water and underneath my legs.
I shrieked as he pulled me out of the water and held me bridal style to his chest.
“I’d like to taste you properly, Mrs. King.”
My chest nearly seized at hearing him call me that. I kept the knowledge that this was all a part of the ruse at the forefront of my mind. Orgasms could be a piece of the fake marriage, I didn’t mind. I could keep my pesky, bleeding heart out of it.
I assumed he’d carry me to the bed, but he kept walking until we were out in the living room. The sunset stretched across the horizon, the sun dipping below the clouds, casting orange and purple hues into the suite and there, on the long, rectangular table, big enough for six people to eat at, he laid me down.
The curtains for the floor-to-ceiling windows were open, so the entire sunset was within our scope.
He slid his black t-shirt up, over his head and then gently stuffed it under my head as a pillow. “Didn’t want you to miss the sunset.”
My ass was near the edge of the table as I planted my feet and turned my head so I could enjoy the ending of the first full day as Mrs. Jameson King. One of the best days I had ever had.
Jamie took a seat at the end, his face level with my parted thighs and then his warm fingers were brushing against my sex. I loved the way he touched me, loved how he started slow, and then worked his way to urgency. After a few strokes up and down my slit, he gently pried my pussy open with the pad of his thumb.
“Don’t know what all we need to clarify in this relationship, Pen, but this...” He stroked me gently. “This right here isn’t complicated…it’s mine. No one else gets to touch you while you’re my wife.”
A tear slipped down the side of my face as I tilted it to see the vibrant colors fade from the sky. It looked like a wildflower, so I closed my eyes and made a wish right as his mouth replaced his thumb, his tongue spearing a path through my throbbing center. Firm hands went to my thighs, wrapping around them as he moved his tongue deeper.
A gasp cut through me as he moved his lips sensually against my pussy in a similar fashion that he’d done earlier. Slow, methodical kisses, using his tongue to swipe up through my folds and then circle my clit, and back down. I felt like a meal, served on a platter. He was seated as if we were about to eat, and here I was spread out for him, naked, dripping all over the table.
My nipples were peaked and hard as I stroked them and cupped my breasts. Jamie was moving his tongue faster over me, while sliding a finger into my center and lapping at my clit.
“Jamie. Oh my god!” My eyes were shut tight; my fingers fastened to my nipples. We had no lights on in the hotel suite, so as the light from outside dimmed, so did the light inside, but it was slightly perfect because it meant no one would see us.
I was on a cloud; a wave of perfection was cutting into me as I moaned and moaned. His tongue was perfect, his kisses languid and slow. Messy and wet. He’d added in two more fingers, and I was about to completely combust.
“Perfect, Penelope. So goddamn perfect. And mine. You have my name on your lips as you’re coming apart, my tongue in your cunt, my fingers as you clench around me. Now let go and come, I want to see you drip onto this table.”
I did. A harsh and unyielding rush of joy slammed into me as I came apart, screaming his name. I had never felt like this before, never felt so high, with my chest practically open—soaking in the feel of him.
“That’s it, fuck,” he growled, using his finger he tugged the upper part of my center, which forced my release to bead and drip down my slit. “You made a mess of the table, Mrs. King. I suggest you come and clean it up.”
God, I was so hot, I felt like my insides were on fire. He was up, hovering over me with a feral gleam in his eye. He slid his hands under my knees and behind my back until I was in his arms, then we walked back to his chair where he gently arranged me in his lap. I was facing the table, directly in front of the mess I’d made.
“If you weren’t pregnant right now, I would have made you crawl to me, but this works just as well.” His hands gathered my long hair in a light grip, and then he whispered in my ear, “now lick it up like a good wife.”
Fuck, the mouth on him was a devastating discovery. How on earth would I ever have regular sex after this? No one had ever stirred my emotions or my nerves in such a way that I was soaking from mere syllables.
I leaned forward and lowered my face, while he held my hair in his fist, and with an exaggerated move, licked up the small mess on the table.
“Turn around and let me taste it on your lips.”
Straightening in his lap, where I felt his hard length under me, I twisted. My eyes dropped to his, seeing the desire there, and my stomach flipped.
Releasing my hair his hand moved to my chin, where he pulled me closer until my mouth was on his and with my release still in my mouth, I opened for him. He let out a moan as his tongue slipped inside my mouth and licked me clean. Our kiss became urgent as he moved with me, tilting my head and cupping my breast with his massive hands. My nipples were gently tugged and tweaked, which had me squirming over his hardness.
When we finally broke apart, I smiled at him. “What else would you like to do with me, husband?”
Dark eyes met mine while he slowly got to his feet.
“Endless things, I’d need to keep you forever in order to fulfill every fantasy.” His whisper was a heated confession spoken against my lips as he pulled me down by the neck to meet his kiss.
“But for now...” He cradled me in his arms again, getting to his feet and walked over to the couch, where he set me down gently against the leather. “Sit there and let me see that pretty pink tongue.”
I watched as he stood in front of me, and pulled the button of his jeans and let them hang loose on his hips. I saw his black boxer briefs, and the tattoo I was so curious about, but then those were lowered too, and his cock was pulled out.
Gloriously long, thick and hard. The purple head wept with clear cum, which only increased as his fist cradled the veiny length and pulled back. He stroked his cock while watching me, which had me moving my hands to my breasts, toying with them while his fist flicked faster and faster.
“I’m about to cover your face in cum. I suggest you close your eyes, Mrs. King, and keep that tongue out so you can taste what you do to me.”
I kept my eyes open, letting my mouth hang, and my tongue drop out.
“Fuck.” He groaned while seizing himself in a death grip, while ribbons began coating my face, my tongue and lashes. I blinked quickly to avoid any getting in my eye, but most of it landed in my mouth, against my waiting tastebuds. Pinching my nipples, I ached for him to release himself over my chest, so I could rub the mess into my skin, like a fucking brand.
Jameson stroked my hair, hissing while he used his other hand to smear around the mess on my face.
“I never thought it would be like this,” he whispered, staring down at me.
Even knowing I was covered in his release, I smiled up at him and asked, “like what?”
“Perfect.”
He didn’t fuck me.
Not after making me come two more times using his fingers and tongue. I was so exhausted by the last one that I actually fell asleep. I must have dozed for an hour or so when Jamie woke me up with a soft kiss explaining that we were going to dinner.
I’d bought a nice flowy maxi dress that would work, especially if I did up my hair and makeup. He was dressed in a nice white shirt, with slacks, and my eyes kept dropping to his shoes. They were shiny and brown, and looked like Jameson could have easily just stepped out of a classroom. I wanted him to roll his sleeves up, but I knew he wanted to look nice for the dinner, so I let it go.
An hour later, we were being driven by an Uber to a little rooftop bar. The elevator shot us out onto what I had expected to be a bustling area with the fire tables, twinkling lights and sprawling city scape below, but only a few servers were standing there, along with the bartender.
“Mr. and Mrs. King, welcome, your table is ready.” One of the servers led us to a small table that was in the center of at least three fire tables and two tall heaters, which held off the winter chill. We were given water, and explained the specials, and then left alone.
“Jamie,” I whispered, leaning forward, trying to understand how he’d managed to reserve a table at one of what seemed like the nicest bars in the city. My gaze snagged on the city below, and the river that cut through it, how it looked like liquid starlight from here. Just then I realized there were a ton of stars overhead too, not dimmed by the rooftop lights.
“I had them cut out a third of the lights, so we could see the stars,” Jamie said, ducking his face as if it embarrassed him that he’d thought of something so considerate. I was slightly speechless for a second before just blurting.
“Why are you torturing me with all this?”
His brown eyes slid up to me, a wild expression crossing his features, as if I’d just told him I had fifteen toes instead of ten.
“Torturing you?”
Leaning closer, I explained, “yes, you’re torturing me by showing me how good I could have had it. I get it, Jamie, you’re amazing. I missed out but you can scale it back. I know this isn’t real and what we did earlier was likely still about my hormones, which explains why we didn’t fuck, but I just—” I tried to gather my thoughts, but they felt frayed, too disfigured and undone to even touch. “It’s hard to experience all this knowing it’s so temporary.”
His brows drew in, his gaze slowly drifting down to the tablecloth, but before he could respond, the server returned with our drinks and to take our order. Once we were alone again, Jamie began sliding his chair back.
“Do you know we never danced at our wedding reception?”
I looked up at him. “It was?—”
“Fake. I know.” He shook his head and reached for my hand. “Maybe I want to treat you like you’re my wife because I think that’s what you deserve. I told you a long time ago, Penelope, if you were mine, things would be different for you.”
He lifted my hand, and I stood in front of him, tears gleaming in my eyes.
“So, wife, dance with me.”
My arms slid up to his shoulders as his came around my back, and suddenly there were violins playing through the speakers. The sound was soft, and immediately had a smile cresting my face. “This was what I walked down the aisle to.”
His nose brushed against my ear as he hummed. “What’s it from?”
My lips spread again as a laugh bubbled inside me. “Have you ever heard of Bridgerton?”
It was his turn to laugh. “Thought I recognized one of those songs.”
“They’re all covers.”
“So, you enjoy historical romance tv shows with a contemporary twist. I know you love wildflowers, and you’re one hell of a photographer. What else have I missed over these past few years?”
My feet barely moved, but my heart seemed to freefall.
“You mean while you were ignoring me?”
He didn’t answer, but his back felt as if he’d stopped breathing under my palms.
When he finally did respond, his voice was quiet. “I was never ignoring you, Pen.”
“Then what were you doing?” I leaned back to see his eyes, because the answer to one of my deepest questions that had plagued me for years would surely be resting in them.
His brown eyes flicked over my face, landing on my lips.
“Surviving.”
The scoff that left my chest was all pain. Agony over losing the one person who had become like my best friend. The one who I had always secretly loved, but never felt good enough for.
“Surviving what? A life without me, because it sure seemed like you were happy out there on your own, away from me.”
“You made your choice with Luke, I wasn’t going to get in the middle of that, especially after our past.”
My rage was palpable, and I hadn’t even noticed we’d stopped dancing. We just held each other under the stars, joined in marriage, yet a chasm remained between us.
“Why not? You never fought for me, not once. You just led me on, toyed with me only to let me go, and then when I finally moved on, you let Luke take me. How come you didn’t fight?”
His jaw tensed, and it looked like a muscle was jumping in it as he released me and stepped back.
“Answer me, Jamie. How come you never fought for me?”
He opened his mouth, closed it and then took a step toward me, but right as he did, the servers brought our food out.
“Let’s just eat, Pen.”
I didn’t feel like eating. I felt like fighting.
I just wished Jameson felt the same.