Page 9 of Roxy’s Independence (Mayhem Makers – MMM: Deviant Knights MC #3)

CHAPTER

EIGHT

Roxy

The next morning, we sit Egypt down after breakfast and explain what happened the day before.

So far, she’s taking it in stride, but I can tell she’s putting on a strong front for us.

Internally, she’s having a hard time accepting her path.

Getting her to admit that will be next to impossible.

She’s just as protective of us as we are of her and she won’t want to say or do anything that’ll let us down.

“Egypt, honey, it’s okay to not be okay with this,” I justify. “I’m still learning to digest the fact that I’m predestined to be Canyon’s earthbound anchor so to speak.”

“And even after all of these years, I’m still learning to deal with the fact that I’m a medical diagnostic machine in human skin,” Weston jokes.

“The first time I saw and followed the strands to find an illness, I thought I was going insane and needed to admit myself into a psychiatric institution. Mom’s right, baby girl, you can let us in, you don’t have to hide how you’re feeling from us. ”

“At least you don’t have to worry about getting stuck in an alternative universe, Eggy. You get a cool gift, you can warn our family about danger and prevent anything bad from happening to them,” Canyon says, acting impressed.

“Sure,” Egypt says, rolling her eyes. “But at least you’re aware of what’s happening.”

“True, and eventually, with training, you will too,” Canyon parries. His counter argument has merit, and I pray that Egypt absorbs what he’s telling her and integrates it into her way of thinking.

“I hope so,” Egypt whispers, sounding melancholy. “I still don’t understand why I can’t go to school like Canyon. I want to see my friends.”

“You will, eventually,” Weston reasons. “We’ll get you there, kiddo. You just have to work hard in the meantime, accept what has been bestowed upon you, and conquer it. It’s going to take time, but I swear to you, we’ll be at your side the entire time.”

“Promise?” she asks, vulnerability laced in her one-worded question.

“Pinky promise,” I state, bending my finger for her to wrap hers around. When she fuses her finger with mine, a broad, true smile spreads across her face. “We’re a family. We do everything together.”

“Together sounds good,” she acknowledges. “I’m afraid, Mom.”

“Why are you frightened?” Weston asks, squatting in front of her and placing a hand on her shoulder. “Tell us, let us help you deal with whatever it is that has you scared.”

“What if I say something bad? I don’t want everyone to hate me,” she admits.

“That won’t happen,” Weston assures her. “Through thick and thin we’ve got you. Every single person we know will be there for you no matter how bad the news is. I can guarantee it. We don’t quit on each other, ever. It’s one of our mottos.”

“It is not,” Egypt giggles, wiping the tears off her cheeks with the back of her hand. “It should be though.”

“You’re right, it should,” Weston agrees. “It’s an unwritten rule in the brotherhood. But if you want it in black and white, I’ll bring it up at church and ask for it to be a mandate.”

“What do you want to do today?” I ask her, we all took a vote last night and decided today, we’d do whatever she wanted.

“I want to go swimming. Do you think it’s safe?” she asks.

“We can’t stop living because a higher power decided we are special,” Weston tells her. “As long as we stick together, it’ll be safe.”

“Then let’s go, family swim day sounds like a good way to unwind and have a little fun,” I announce. “Everyone grab yourself a beach towel, let’s stock the cooler, and jump into our suits.”

Egypt snorts, mumbling about how we can’t jump into our suits but she wishes her superpower was to click her fingers and be dressed.

As we come back after a day of fun in the sun, we’re exhausted.

Sunday-Funday was a success. Egypt forgot all about her worries and laughed while she and Canyon splashed each other and had cannon ball competitions.

We even set up landmarks and had a swimming competition—surprise-surprise, Weston didn’t go easy on us, his competitive streak has no bounds.

As usual, he was a shithead and refused to come in second or third.

We all take the quickest showers in history and fall head first into bed. Once the house has been locked up and Weston triple checked by investigating every window and door, he crawls into bed and wraps his arms around me.

“She’s going to be okay, Foxy.”

“I hope so,” I whisper. “She put on a brave face, but when she thought nobody was looking, I could see the fear still buried beneath the surface.”

“Let me help you forget, for a little while at least,” he proposes.

A small smile spreads across my face as I ask, “And how are you going to do that?”

“By making love to you,” he huskily whispers, placing gentle kisses along the bend of my neck. “I’ve always been a fan of show and tell.”

A giggle burst free at his statement. “Then get busy showing me, Weston, because the telling part is a little boring.”

“Is it?” he asks as his fingers glide beneath my nightgown, traveling upward until he’s cupping my breasts in both hands.

“What if I were to tell you what I’m going to do to you word for word, would you still be bored, Foxy?

” He’s always had a bit of a dirty mouth during sex, and I can’t lie to myself, it’s a big turn on.

My words are hoarse when I say, “That sounds interesting. Go for it, biker man.”

“Challenge accepted,” he declares as he continues paying homage to my erect nipples. “You’ve always been so damn responsive. Are you wet for me, Foxy?”

“Maybe you should check for yourself and tell me,” I counter, spreading my legs for easier access.

He glides his right hand down my torso, sliding beneath the elastic band of my panties. A single finger splits my folds as he drags the evidence of my arousal to my clit where he applies pressure, circling his finger around what he calls my pleasure button.

“Oh shit,” I mumble as my hips vicariously lift from the bed at the nerve-awakening contact, seeking more attention. “Weston.”

“That’s it, baby, beg for more,” he rasps out. “Once I make you come on my fingers, I’m going to lick your pussy clean.”

“More,” I command, my legs scissoring. “Please, Weston.”

He doubles his efforts, plucking one nipple while switching his lower hand and sticking a digit inside of me, pumping in and out while he thumbs my clit.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I chant as I combust, stars swimming in my vision.

I knew I was going to detonate soon because I was burning up and electrified with sexual potency.

My entire body sinks into the mattress as he lowers my panties and tosses them onto the bedroom floor.

With what little pep I have left in me, I lift up and yank my gown off, flinging it to the side.

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he tells me, scanning me from head to toe, licking his lush lips. “Now, I’m going to taste every delectable inch of your skin.”

“Oh God,” I whisper.

I know by the time he’s done mapping my body with his tongue, I’m going to be a limp mess. He’s very attentive and never misses a spot when he gets in this carnal mood. But I’m looking forward to every swipe and nibble of his mouth.