“As long as she finishes her degree, I won’t kill him,” he admits, and we all chuckle. Makes me glad I have a son. Not sure I could handle having a daughter.
I get home after Bethany does, and there’s dinner already made and waiting for me. I’d never admit it to my brothers, but I love every bit of having her here. I don’t know why I want to torment her so badly. My guess is, I’m still hurt. I hate that bullshit. Makes me feel weak, like a chick worried about feelings and shit.
It’s true, though. Finding out I had a kid and knew nothing about it, fucked me up inside. I was already screwed up, but this is different. It makes me think that she believes I’m not good enough to be Maverick’s father.
However, I will be a good dad to him; I’ll make sure of it. I may not be a good person or even a decent man, but I won’t let myself fail at being his father. I had enough of that growing up; I won’t torment my own kid with that kind of life.
Trekking down the hall, I peek in and check on Mav. He’s knocked out, with his feet up on his pillows. Kid sleeps like a wild animal in every direction besides the normal one. It’s all good; his mom and I both march to the beat of our own drum, too. Fuck the standards.
Next, I check on Bethany. Cracking her door open a little more, I peek in. Her sleepy eyes meet mine, a tired smile on her lips.
“Thanks for dinner.”
“Of course.” She yawns, snuggling into her covers more.
“I have a gig this weekend. I’d like you there.”
“Okay.”
“Viking and Princess are coming.”
“Oh cool.”
“Night,” I grumble.
“Good night.” She sighs, her eyes closing. I can’t help but pause and stare for a few seconds before leaving her doorway.
Peeling my clothes off, I leave them on my bedroom floor in my wake. I lie flat on my own bed; it’s a California King since I’m six feet four. Regular beds don’t work too well for me.
My eyes close and I see Bethany’s smirk as she punches Honey. I didn’t say it outright, but it was hot as fuck. If she had really been claiming me, I’d have her in my bed right now, rewarding her with my face between those thighs.
When she kissed me, I had to touch them. Every time she puts on a pair of shorts, I want to run my hands up the backs and give them a good smack, leaving a pink handprint behind. Fuck, the things I’d do to her body.
Groaning, my hand finds my semihard cock and I give a few rough pumps. It hardens quickly, precum spilling from the top as I pretend it’s her doing it.
“Ummm…Night?” Her voice breaks my thoughts, and my eyes pop open, landing on her flushed cheeks.
“Yeah?” It’s gruff, but fuck, five more minutes and I would’ve been spilling all over myself.
“Can I lay with you?” It’s so soft and innocent, I could break down a door with how hard it makes my dick.
“Yeah, come ‘ere dollface,” I reply and let her scoot under the covers, coming to lie on my chest.
It’s going to be one hell of a long night for me. I should just fuck her right here, right now. But I won’t. I’m going to let her fall for me before I claim her and finally make her mine.
Live your life by a compass
not a clock.
-Stephan Covey
Watching him play the other night at the bar was insane. I had no idea Nightmare was that talented. Makes me wonder why he ever became a biker in the first place and not a professional drummer. He’s at that level, and it’s not often you come across someone who is.
“What are you doing?” I ask, pausing in the doorway to the bathroom. He’s got a few drops of oil he’s rubbing between his palms.
“I’m putting beard oil in my beard.” His gaze meets mine while staring into the mirror above the sink. His eyebrow rises like I’m off my rocker.
“Beard oil?”