Marlon Neon Marksman MC, page 10
I feel myself drift off to sleep but am ripped out of it by a sound. “I think someone’s knocking on the door.”
“They need to fuck off. I’m still inside you—hard or not—I’m not moving till I’ve got the energy to take you again,” Marlon complains to my satisfaction, since I fiercely agree with his statement.
The knocking doesn’t stop. Marlon groans and lifts his body, making the both of us groan when he slides out of me. He reaches for gray sweatpants and puts them on while I grab a pair of his boxers. They are way too big but they’ll do fine as I take one of his shirts to go with it. Marlon is already opening the door when I make my way down the stairs.
“Sorry Prez. He was very persistent,” Leon says, and right behind him Peacock strolls inside.
“Doesn’t anyone realize I don’t have a damn doorbell because I don’t want people to come here? Fucking hell,” Marlon grumbles.
I walk up to him and place a kiss on his cheek. “Guess you need to adjust to the fact this is our home now, and not your escape the whole world safe house any longer. So, you should rethink the doorbell and get one of those things with a camera and a remote so we can tell them to get lost without going downstairs to open the door.”
His arm sneaks around my waist, pulling me close. “Smart woman. I’ll take care of it first thing in the morning.”
“Nice you two kissed and made up and shit, but I have some good fucking news for the both of you.” Peacock is smiling from ear to ear.
I remind myself to act surprised when he informs us Arch Brandstein is dead because his house blew up. Us being the cause...yeah, mental note...shocking news, coming up.
“Well, out with it,” Marlon growls.
“Your problems are over, everything is handled,” Peacock states proudly.
Wait. What? I glance in shock at Marlon, then Leon, and back at Peacock again. We only killed the hitman, Arch. His boss, Bonnie’s father, is still very much alive. What does Peacock mean with everything is handled and my problems are over?
“When did that happen? How’s that even possible?” I blink a few times, trying to keep my emotions at bay. I need to know for sure before I can be happy knowing everything is solved. “You were here earlier and nothing changed. All fierce about a strict order...wait. Did the syndicate rule? Did they get back to you already?”
“They did. They wanted it handled as soon as possible. But get this. The syndicate decided to end this once and for all but they needed hard proof. They interrogated Jorge Campell’s staff. Turns out one of the security guys saved a recording where Arch talked to Jorge about their revenge not being thorough enough by just killing your father. See, Arch was at a poker game where booze was flowing generously. Mickey Flan innocently talked about his daughter and they somehow turned the discussion about having daughters and not wanting them to follow into their footsteps. Mickey gave you as an example, how you didn’t turn into one. Arch told Jorge how the killer of his daughter and his lover had a daughter of his own, and they decided you needed to die the same way they killed your father. Just how they took Jorge’s daughter, Arch’s lover, from them; a daughter for a daughter. We suspect Arch went by Mickey for intel about you, he might not have given it, though. Seems logical since Mickey ended up dead. Noa on the other hand...we don’t know, she might have mentioned something but Arch could have been there when you showed up at her house. Well, it’s all a domino effect but it ends now. As of a half hour ago Jorge stopped breathing. I was invited to be one of the witnesses when the verdict was lashed out. Arch skipped that dance, though. His house exploded and the syndicate doesn’t even care why or how. What they do care about is making sure the fucker is dead so they will wait for a report to verify Arch is no longer with us, but all the signs are there. The ones responsible for your father’s death have been dealt with, they have evidence those two fuckers were aware, and in on Bonnie’s activities...the syndicate mentioned they are indebted to you. So, like I said, your problems are over.”
A scream of joy rips from my throat and I turn my head to face Marlon. There’s a grin on his face but his eyes carry a hint of sadness and uncertainty I can’t really place. I crash my mouth against his in a fierce kiss. It’s over. Finally, I can go outside without any worry.
I hear Leon talk to Peacock, telling him to leave us to celebrate and for him to come back tomorrow. The sound of a door closing makes me pull back and glance over to check if they’re really gone.
When I face Marlon again, I need to swallow due to the sadness he’s radiating. “Hey, what’s that look for? You should be happy for me, for us; it’s over.”
“Yeah,” he croaks. “You’re able to,” he clears his throat as if he needs to brace himself to get the words out, “do anything you want.”
Then it hits me. He thinks his time is up. He thinks I’ll be leaving to find my own place. He thinks...I don’t need him. Anger rises but the tortured, haunted look on his face is killing me. This hard man—the President of a damn MC—is scared of losing me. Doesn’t he realize I don’t want to be anywhere else but right there next to him? Shit. Words. I need actual words to assure him I’m not going anywhere.
I bite my lip while my finger traces a path down his ripped torso. “I lied to you.”
Marlon absently nods, the damn man is bracing himself for a rejection? Ugh.
I poke his chest. “Attitude, Poster Boy. Grab it and throw it into the discussion. I’m telling you I fucking lied to you so don’t crawl into a corner. Go feel sorry for yourself another time. I need for my Old Man to be a strong daddy since I kinda lied about being on the pill. Since, you know...house blowing up and all...me not having any pills and not being able to take it a few days now.”
“You fucking lied?” he roars.
And it actually makes me wince. Shit. Maybe he wasn’t serious about wanting to knock me up when he said it...maybe it was a spur of the moment thing and now he regrets it. Oh, damn. Panic floods my system while my eyes hit the floor. What am I going to do now? His laughter makes me look up, satisfaction radiating from his face.
“You asshole!” I seethe. “How can you do that to me? I seriously thought you were angry with me. You’re not, right? Because you can’t get rid of me now. I could be pregnant. Homeless and pregnant. Well, not homeless because I’m claiming this place. And Harry. And you.”
Marlon’s eyes go wide. “You put the fucking cat before me? What the hell?”
“Harry has an attitude I can respect.” I shrug. “You just tricked me, therefore Harry is number one on my list.”
“Number one on the...fucking hell,” Marlon mutters and shakes his head. “Fine, but Harry isn’t sleeping in our bed any longer.”
“That depends,” I state.
“On what?” Marlon growls.
“Whether or not you’re good at groveling. I need something to soothe away the state of shock my body is still wrapped in.”
“Your body? How about mine?” He takes a step closer. “You’re the one who freaked me the fuck out by making me doubt if you were staying, and throwing out the fact that you lied while it was clearly something I’m fucking excited about and you damn well knew it too.”
“Fine.” I let my hand slide down to his cock that’s standing to attention with our banter. “Then we’re doing sixty-nine, the both of us can grovel. I’m going on top, though. Deal?”
His eyes flare with lust. “Deal.”
Epilogue
Five years later
***Marlon***
I step inside the clubhouse where the music and hollers from my guys greet me with fierce ferocity. “Not again,” I mutter.
“Fuck, yeah, again!” Leon quips from beside me, elbowing past me to join the guys who are standing in front of the bar, watching how chicks dance on top of it.
Standing in the midst of my guys, though? My own damn wife. Whooping and cheering as if she’s one of the brothers. I shake my head. It might sound like I’m complaining but deep down I’m damn proud.
I remember the day she walked into the clubhouse, asking for my help. Chicks dancing on top of the bar then too. One huge fucking difference, because now? Now they’re dressed in thongs and other barely there clothing and yet to my brothers it appears sexier than if they were dancin’ naked.
My Old Lady got herself test subjects for her special lingerie line and has earned the guys’ respect even more by doing so. Hell, she already had their respect from the very first day she came into my life, I made damn sure of it.
While everyone is watching the bar with the entertainment shaking their asses, I’ve only got eyes for Unique. Her belly is starting to show again. That’s right, again. I managed to knock her up a second time.
Barrett, our four-year-old son, is spending the night at Peacock and Karma’s house. I just dropped him off. You might say we have the evening to ourselves but seeing my brothers treat Unique as one of the guys, we like to spend some time in here before going upstairs.
Unique’s gaze connects with mine. My heart heats up and it’s no fucking surprise. Even after all these years, she’s still got the same effect on my body she has had since the very first day we met. Her temper and smart mouth also haven’t changed over the years and to be honest? I wouldn’t want it any other way. Though I have to mention she does have a filter when Barrett is in the room.
She strides toward me and wraps her arms around my neck, gently forcing me down for a lingering kiss. The way she swirls her tongue around mine, trying to dominate while at the same time I’m showing her exactly who’s the one in charge. Okay, maybe we’re both merged into the number one position seeing she’s equally capable of handling the life we both live. And I fucking well revel in it.
Hell, I have my moments of being romantic as fuck. Well, maybe only once when I asked her to marry me by drawing her a bath, let her get into it and finally threw a cherry bath bomb in there that was holding a ring inside it. That’s right, Bubbles got bubbles and a huge ass diamond to get her all bubbly enough to marry my biker-ass.
I pull back and place my forehead against hers. “You havin’ fun?”
“Yeah,” she says with a full-blown smile. “They love the new stuff I designed so I’m going to put it online first thing Monday morning.”
Another one of those things. She never did go searching for a new space to set up a new shop. Her decision to keep selling her designs through her website and expand there gave her the freedom to enjoy her time during the day even more. Then the offers came to distribute to other stores in the country and business picked up.
I’m really proud of my woman for chasing her own dreams and eventually getting her designs in stores all over the country without having to stand behind the counter herself. She can spend all her time with our family and creating new things.
I glance at the women who are wearing barely there things with twinkle and straps and I tilt my head to the side and raise an eyebrow. I wonder how that’s gonna feel when she sits down with those beads.
“Okay, we’re going upstairs,” Unique grumbles. “I don’t want you looking at my girls.”
“Hey,” I snap. “I wasn’t looking at your girls. And for the record, that sounds fucked up. When you say ‘your girls’ I think of those fine tits of yours I need to cover with my cum. Please don’t call them ‘your girls.’ The chicks shaking ass on the bar belong to the bikers who are single to enjoy themselves. I’d rather have you call them your dress-up dolls or something because that’s more fitting. And for the record, number two in this statement...I was checking out your design.”
Uh oh. The look on her face tells me she’s seconds away from punching my cock. “I love it. Seriously, Bubbles, you outdid yourself with this one.” I point at one of the chicks who’s wearing the beaded thong. “Did you get the idea when I used that string of beads on your ass?”
Distract with humor and good memories. Though the eyeroll I’m getting wasn’t exactly the response I was going for. Yet, I’m safe to think my cock skipped the ‘brace for impact’ incident.
“They are not dress-up dolls. Some of these girls are nice friends who give me tips and even give me good feedback I can use to fine-tune the designs. And for your information, this isn’t a lingerie line for comfort. It’s meant to show off and get off. She’s not going to sit down in it. She’s going to shake her ass so the dude—or dudette whatever floats someone’s boat—will tear it off and then they’re going to order more when they’re finished with explosive sex. Besides, these bikers are numb to all the nakedness and need something flashy to spice things up so it works both ways.”
I lean my mouth close to her ear. “So you did get the inspiration from the time I fucked your ass one bead at a time, lubed up that pretty tight rosette so I could slid it in while pumping my cock inside your cunt. Remember how good it felt getting attention from all sides? My tongue fucking your mouth, my cock fucking your cunt, my fingers fucking your ass—using those beads or not. I do; I fucking remember. I guess I take it from the top; the designer of sexy as shit lingerie designs. Explosive sex might describe every moment I get to bury myself inside your body. But how about you, love? How would you describe the moment I enter you, fire up your body to the point where you can’t take any more pleasure and have to surrender to the orgasm that claims you as mine?”
She fucking shudders in my arms. Instead of giving me words, she grabs my hand and heads for the stairs. Right before she puts her foot on the bottom step, her hands go to her waist, sliding the shiny, tight, red pants she’s wearing slightly down, letting me see a hint of a sparkling chain linked with beads that’s disappearing between her ass cheeks.
Fuck.
This woman. I won’t ever get enough of her. In my bed, by my side, and as the mother of my children, facing anything life might throw at us. She’s my perfect counterpart and I’m damn lucky she loves me with the same ferocity.
A growl rips from my throat, a giggle leaves hers. We both rush up the stairs, taking these special moments where we’re full of life, full of love...fulfillment altogether, for the rest of our lives.
Thank you for reading Marlon’s story. Gaining exposure as an independent author relies mostly on word-of-mouth, so if you have the time and inclination, please consider leaving a short review wherever you can. Even a short message on social media would be greatly appreciated.
Unique her friends all have their stories told. If you haven’t read their books yet, be sure to check out (reading order): “Ford” The Dudnik Circle #1, Peacock (The Faults Of Our Sins), “Yegor” The Dudnik Circle #2, “Afon” The Dudnik Circle #3.
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