Hard Ride (Men of Valor MC)
“Not at all, plus practice makes perfect.” I smack her ass as she climbs up inside our newly acquired truck. She bitches about it being too big, but when she goes to a garage sale, guess which one is the vehicle she takes. It’s not her car; it’s this. Our home is full of things she’s bought second hand, fixed up, turning trash into treasure.
“Let’s get through the first pregnancy, then we’ll discuss our next child.” Nova, apparently, is one of those lucky women, or so Stella said, whereas Stella was sick morning, noon, and night with all of the girls. Nova has been breezing by. She did have to quit her job the minute she took a pregnancy test and it was positive. We both agreed there’s no way we’d put our unborn child through anything that could harm them, cigarette smoke included, and yeah, that meant me giving it up too, which I did.
“Sounds fair.” I watch as she clicks her seatbelt into place, kiss her forehead, close the door, and walk to my side. The need for a cigarette comes and goes, but for the most part, it stays hidden away. I should have quit that shit long ago, just didn’t have a reason to. Now, though. Nova and our unborn daughter are my reason for fucking everything. There’s not one thing I won’t do to protect them, even if it’s from myself.
“Can we stop by the store? JoJo asked for a new baby doll. Apparently, Darcy was playing hair stylist with hers and cut all her hair off,” Nova asks once I’m in the truck. Instead of working at the bar or another place for the club, she decided to help Stella and Ghost out. The older two are in school, so she’ll pick them up in the afternoons and keep Lucy when Stella isn’t working. It’s a few days a week, but it’s helpful nonetheless, especially with Ghost back home. It’s been a rough transition period for all of them, and my woman, fuck, but does she love to help our family out.
“Yeah, but I’m not shopping the whole fucking store,” I grunt.
“Whatever, you’re worse than I am when it comes to shopping for the girls.” She laughs, placing a hand on her belly. I do the same before moving her hand to my lips and kissing her knuckles.
“It’s for the girls. We need to start getting stuff for our own girl too, so I don’t want to hear any shit from you.”
“My lips are sealed, but my camera isn’t,” she replies.
“Always busting my balls, baby.”
“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” Nova says, a smile on her beautiful face.
“Not one fucking bit.” I put the truck in gear, and we head to the store, her hand in mine the entire time, and yeah, a boy would have been amazing, but a little girl will be just as great.
Epilogue
Nova
Three Years Later
“You’re asking for trouble tonight,” Stella whispers in my ear. We’re all at the clubhouse tonight. The music is blaring through the speakers. The guys are sitting at the bar. We were lucky that my dad offered to watch all the kids tonight, Stella’s girls and our little girl, Dalia. She’s the apple of my dad’s eye. I’m pretty sure she’s got her pappy wrapped around her two-year-old finger.
“That’s what I’m hoping for.” Gage knew exactly what I was after when I walked out the bedroom wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts, cowgirl boots, and a tank top that shows more cleavage than I’d wear without having him by my side.
“Your nickname should be Trouble. Though, I gotta say, I like your style. I’m going to grab a drink. Are you coming?” she asks. I shake my head no while dancing to the classic rock. Whoever says you can’t dance to it is plum dumb.
I get lost in the music, swaying my hips, my hands over my head, and I sense his presence before I feel him.
“Trying to start a riot?” Gage’s hands move to my waist, meeting bare skin as I lock my hands behind his neck, my ass grinding into his thickening cock.
“Nope, just trying to get my husband’s attention.” I spin around in his arms, both of us moving together, his thigh sliding between my legs. I arch against him, getting closer to him.
“You’ve got it, but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna share it with the club.” This man, as if anyone else would dare look at me. Everyone knows everyone here. The ring on my finger is so glaringly obvious you could see it a mile away, and then my one and only tattoo of his name is on my lower hip. The outfit I’m wearing is showing it off, another reason as to why I picked it.
“Gage,” I moan when his thigh hits just the right spot.