Page 71 of Property of Necro (Kings Of Anarchy MC: Illinois #1)

Riding shotgun in the SUV, with Coffin behind the wheel and Rot and Necro in the back, the city lights blur by, and I damn near wiggle out of my seat at how flippin’ excited I am.

We’re out together. It’s nighttime, so we don’t have to worry about Necro’s eyes and…

sure, he’s wearing his mask, and people are gonna stare a whole lot, but I don’t care.

We’re out together, me and my… husbands.

Gah!

I can’t believe this is my life.

Husbands.

Three of them.

Coffin sidelong glances at me and smirks. Over the back of my seat, Rot massages my shoulders. “Red. Take a breath.”

I can’t.

We’ve never done this before.

They are all dressed in black shirts, holey jeans, and leather Kings of Anarchy cuts, and I’m in a purple dress with my signature Crocs.

I haven’t seen their chests covered in ages, and while I don’t particularly like it, there’s a certain public decorum expected, and it’s not like the world wants to see my initials or name crudely carved into flesh.

Which I’m sure still hurts. I mean, how could it not?

I can’t believe that happened last night.

I licked their blood and got off on it.

Talk about a total high.

I was in my body, but then I kinda wasn’t.

It seems all too surreal. When I woke up this morning in Rot’s bed, I half expected to have dreamed it.

But I didn’t. The scars are real, and if that wasn’t enough, my pussy and ass are sore.

More sore than I think they’ve ever been, but I did get fucked within an inch of my life last night.

Even my jaw hurts, which doesn’t usually happen, even if I fall asleep with one of their cocks in my mouth, which I find myself doing more often than not as of late.

Coffin rests his big mitt on my thigh as he turns us down a side street and into what appears to be downtown, whatever this city is. It’s not big but not small either. There are real people here, bustling down the streets, popping in and out of shops and restaurants.

I’m damn near pressing my face against the passenger window like an excited puppy when he parks us in front of an old theater.

“Don’t move,” Rot orders from the back as he scrambles to get out and open my door before I can.

On the curb, he offers me his upturned palm and helps me from the vehicle like a gentleman as the other two exit the truck.

On the sidewalk, Coffin approaches the old-timey ticket counter in front of the brightly lit building as Necro shakes a leather vest in front of me.

He turns it around, and stitched on the back of the cut, much like theirs, is the Kings of Anarchy skull with crown emblem and the words Property of Necro on a bottom rocker.

Pressing into the middle of my back, Rot urges me forward. “Be a good girl and put it on.”

“You got me a cut?” Fisting my hands down at my sides, as to not draw too much attention, I do a small, little wiggle in place.

Necro nods, eyes downcast because of the bright lights, the people, or the fact that he’s giving me a gift, I can’t be certain, so I roll with it and whip around.

He gently feeds my arms through the holes and slides the buttery leather up my arms to my shoulders.

It fits perfectly, and when I turn back around, a group of people pass by and stare at us—at Necro.

Rot steps in front of him to shield him from the onlookers, but I do one better.

I pull a page out of the Coffin handbook and snap my teeth at them like a rabid dog.

The women scurry along, commenting about how crazy I am, as their dates continue to stare, only not at my husbands, at me.

Which is a far better option, as far as I’m concerned.

Shaking his head, clearly smiling as the lines around his eyes crinkle and the blue-white glistens, Necro slips his arm through mine and escorts me to Coffin, who fans out four movie tickets.

“We’re keepin’ these.” Coffin slaps them over his forearm and tucks them inside his cut.

“I didn’t know they did real tickets anymore. I thought everything was digital,” I comment.

“Not here. They have two theaters, and I rented out one,” Coffin says.

“A whole one?”

“Yeah.” The blond shrugs. “I figured we don’t need to be disturbed.”

Tilting my head back, I stare up in awe at the old architecture. “I’ve never been to a movie theater before.”

“None of us have besides Rot,” Coffin explains.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really,” Coffin adds. “I thought we’d do this shit together. Rot picked the movie.”

“What movie?” I ask, excitement bubbling in my chest.

“You’ll see.” Rot pats my behind and together we walk through the gold-gilded doors, up a set of red-carpeted stairs, to the popcorn and candy stand, where the girl behind the counter doesn’t appear to be put off by us or our appearance as she serves us two giant buckets of popcorn, three sodas, a bottle of water for me, and just about every candy imaginable because apparently we have to try them all—Coffin’s orders.

Once Coffin and Rot are loaded down, I turn to Necro, knowing he won’t eat much of this, apart from the chocolate that’ll melt in his mouth.

Running my fingers down his arm to his wrist, I thread my fingers through his.

“How about a Slurpee?” I offer, noting they have Coke, blue raspberry, and cherry on tap.

He shrugs, looking everywhere but me.

Not wanting to embarrass him, in case he’s never had one before, I turn to the kind woman working the counter. “Can we get one of each, please?”

“Mix cherry with the Coke, Red,” Rot hollers as he shoulders his way into our theater.

“On it.” I chuckle, and the woman gets straight to work. When she’s done, she jams the cups into a holder and slides it across the glass-topped counter.

Coffin slips up behind us and slaps a stack of cash on the counter before claiming our drinks. “Keep the change and have a good night.” He tips an imaginary hat to her and turns to me as the poor girl sputters a dozen “thank yous”, blushing ten shades of pink.

I get it.

He’s hot.

For some reason, he’s not growling at her or being a total douchebag, so yeah, I’d be shocked, too, if I was her.

“Come on, Sweet Cheeks, we got the perfect seats.” He grabs a handful of my ass, and I yip as we enter through the double doors into a beautiful room, where I gasp in awe.

It’s impossible not to.

When you think of a movie theater, this isn’t what comes to mind. This was a playhouse once upon a time. There’s a stage at the front where the screen drops, and it’s enormous. The ceiling’s architecture is… I don’t even have the words.

Stupendous?

There are literally carved angels and a painted skyscape.

The lighting is warm as we take our seats in what must be refurbished chairs.

They recline slightly back, and the arms retract.

I move around Rot to sit in the middle, but the naughty man forces me into his lap instead.

He wraps his arms around my middle and nuzzles the back of my neck. “I fuckin’ love you, Red.”

My stomach swoops at his sweet admission as Coffin lightly punches Rot in the shoulder and drops down beside us. “Hey, asshole, this was my honeymoon idea.”

“I picked the movie,” Rot snaps back. “And if she sits in my fuckin’ lap, then you can sit on either side and hold her hand while I hold her pussy or her tits.”

I gasp in mock outrage and slap the side of his thigh. “Rot.”

“What?” He kisses the back of my head. “You didn’t think Coffin was gonna rent this place out and we were gonna pay attention to the entire movie, did you?”

“I did, actually.” That’s the point of going to the movies, is it not? To watch the movie.

Rot squeezes my waist. “Wrong answer, wife. You’ll be riding all our cocks soon enough.”

“But I’m a little sore,” I remind him, in case he somehow forgot our wedding.

“Then… Well… Fuck. Alright. Change of plans, then. Guess you’ll be watchin’ the movie while we take turns eatin’ your sweet little pussy.”

“Rot,” I admonish halfheartedly.

“What?” He nips my shoulder. “I’m not about to leave this fuckin’ place without my face drippin’ with your cum.”

Coffin grunts as if agreeing as Necro slips past us and takes the opposite seat.

Rot knocks his shoulder into his brother’s. “Take off your mask. It’s cool. Nobody’s gonna be here ‘sides us. Relax and enjoy.”

“Only if you’re comfortable,” I tack on, knowing this can’t be easy for him.

Necro nods once and unfastens the mask, sets it on the chair beside him, and claims the Cherry Coke Slurpee. Looking Rot in the eye, he rounds his cheeks and draws in a mouthful of the frozen drink.

“Fucker,” Rot snickers.

Necro shrugs and relaxes back, but not before he offers me the straw, and I take a sip. The coolness bathes my mouth, and I hum in satisfaction as my husband grins almost shyly at me relishing his offer.

The lights dim low, and instead of trailers, our movie starts right up.

And I gasp…

Because…

“ Train to Busan ?” I whisper, shocked by Rot’s choice of film.

“You love this movie, right?”

“Yes. It’s the best zombie film, ever!” I whisper-scream, dancing in my seat. Well, on Rot’s lap.

“And zombies on the big screen…” he starts.

“Epic,” I finish.

“Exactly.”

Cuddling down in my husband’s lap, I fall into the movie like it’s my first time.

I cry when I always do and gasp, even when I know what’s about to happen.

Coffin and Necro are so engrossed in the story, having never seen it before, that they’re on the edge of their seats the entire time.

Watching them watch it is half the fun, as I stuff my face with salty, overly buttery popcorn—the best kind—and occasionally eat a licorice or two.

But my heart grows, and I can’t stop smiling as the movie plays.

Because this is my life.

I can’t even believe it’s real, and how far these men have come from when we first met.

Necro’s in public. Coffin was nice to the woman at the counter, and Rot… got what he’s always wanted… someone to love.

And I…