Disclaimer-True story, my name is not Kurt Sutter. Ergo (best word in Websters), I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do own my ever growing cast of original characters, this story, its plotlines, and also an upcoming PCS move.
Before even opening his eyes, Happy knew that he was alone in bed, but not in the room. He could hear Ace's breathy little pants and moans, and a very wet sound, very close to his head.
"I can see you smiling, big man, open your eyes…" Ace coaxed, voice all hot and honey.
Happy resisted, wanting to prove to her, even just for a few seconds more that he was only going to look because he wanted to, not because she told him to. Then she moaned again, and he cracked one dark eye, and was rewarded with a very close up view of slick pink pussy, just inches from his face. Ace had pulled the cheap avocado colored armchair tight to the bed. She was slumped in it, one leg thrown over each arm, which put her on display for him. Her right hand was working the swollen, flushed lips, stroking and petting, and Happy knew she was trying hard not to cum, yet. Her left hand cupped her breast, alternating between squeezing and rubbing the palm right over her hard nipple.
Ace watched as both of his hard, dark eyes came fully open. Feeling his gaze all over her skin, with nothing hidden from his view, she found it very hard to resist the orgasm that was tight and hovering in her belly. She lightened the pressure on her slick sex, but when he locked eyes with her and palmed his rigid dick, Ace knew she was lost. She buried two fingers in her hot pussy and came seconds later, mouth open and eyes shut. When her breathing slowed, she opened her eyes again to meet Happy's. Without looking away, she slowly dragged her wet hand up her body to her mouth and licked it clean.
Happy was off the bed, ready to reassert his control. She gasped, then laughed, low and full of feminine self satisfaction when he buried his left hand in her hair. He drew her up, arching her back, so that she stared up at him. He bent and kissed her, tasting her own pussy on her tongue. Straightening, he guided her lips to his cock, her blue eyes on him until she wrapped her lips around his dark head. Her lids fluttered shut and she hummed around him, then set to her task with thorough enjoyment. Happy let her set her pace, but when she scraped the bottom of his shaft lightly with her teeth, he tightened his grip on her hair, holding her still. She moaned, and tilted her head back enough to be able to see him. The look of her, cheeks pink, eyes boldly open, and her mouth full of his cock pushed the limits of his patience, and he flexed his hips experimentally. When she didn't object, only hummed happily, he began to fuck her mouth in earnest, intoxicated with the sight of her. He came hard in her throat, the feel of her struggling to swallow his cum making the orgasm even more intense.
"Good girl." He praised her, fascinated that she could transition so easily from dirty little slut, to wiping the corners of her mouth daintily, like she was at a tea party or some shit. Ace smiled at him and stretched, wincing. Happy took further advantage of his position and leaned over her to peel back a corner of the dressings covering her shoulders.
"It's starting to itch, already." She told him as he studied the little bit he could see. "Can we leave them off for today?"
"Yeah, as long as you're not planning to ride with me today." He conceded, giving in to her in the aftermath of the oral devastation, though he'd prefer the dressing stay on for another day. She was arguably more qualified to make that call than he was, anyway. Checking the time, he patted her head affectionately, and headed for the bathroom to shave.
When he returned, head smooth and goatee trimmed down to stubble, Happy found Ace curled back on the bed. She watched him as he walked around the little room, dressing and checking his SIGs, shrugging into the shoulder holster. She yawned, and closed her eyes again.
A lifelong insomniac, she'd been awake only a few hours after they'd fallen into bed the night before, after a strange dinner in the local diner, and a few hours of riding just to ride. The locals were quietly hostile, giving her and Happy a wide berth, going so far as to actually cross the street. Ace was under no illusions about who her man was, but it was still decidedly odd to find herself painted with the same brush. She suspected that he'd taken her in public to put her right up against that truth, and when he'd had his fill of mixing with the locals, they'd headed out into the desert at high speed.
Ace opened her eyes at the slight metallic clunk. Happy had placed her Glock within easy reach on the nightstand.
"Stay here until I get back." He told her, and tapped the Glock for emphasis.
"Here? Like in the room, here?" She asked sleepily, brow crinkled.
"Yeah. Tig and I are going to help Jury out with some protection runs, and I don't want you wandering around unprotected." Ace briefly considered arguing, especially with protection sitting right there on the nightstand, but gave up the thought when she yawned again.
"Okay." She shrugged one shoulder agreeably and burrowed further into the pillow. She was already drifting off when Happy closed the locked door behind him.
No Other Man Alive
Happy was more surprised than he really should have been to find Tig holding up the wall outside his door. Tig's eyes were bloodshot and he smelled of that distinct stripper perfume, Love Spell and overused pussy. He was also grinning like he'd won the lottery.
"You know, I really fucking love Jury's place. It's like Disneyland, the happiest place on Earth." Tig enthused as they bro-hugged.
"Surprised you managed to crawl out from under Hooker Mountain this early." Happy replied as they wandered into the lazy Sunday clubhouse.
"It wasn't easy." Tig replied in earnest. "But that blond cunt has an afternoon delight scheduled in Reno, and Jury needs us to escort her."
The blond cunt in question was sitting at the bar, arms folded petulantly over her chest, Lucite heel dangling. She snapped her gum in a calculated bid for attention.
"It's about time." She huffed, spotting them. "You gonna let me ride with you, Happy?" She cooed at him in that saccharine baby voice that made the palms of his hands itch.
"No." He shut her down without even looking at her, certain that Jury would require compensation if he choked out one of his working girls, and he was down most of his cash due to the Fallbrook fiasco. As if the thought had summoned him, Jury came out of his office at just that moment.
"Alright, here's the address for the hotel, but Starla knows the way, so just follow her. We use a suite, so I expect both of you in the outer room. This guy is supposedly a first timer, so I don't really anticipate any trouble." Jury laid it out for them, handing each a brown envelope.
"No problem, Jury." Tig answered, practically sunshine and rainbows after whatever he had done to the poor whores he'd rented the night before. Ace's wake up call had had Happy in similar high spirits, but being forced into proximity with Plastic Fantastic here made him weary. He envied Ace, who was no doubt out cold in the bed. At least he was getting paid, and if this bitch was with him, she couldn't be here hassling his old lady.
"Let's roll."
No Other Man Alive
At the shitty little hotel, Happy's mood was deteriorating quickly. Jury's charter might be Tig's Disneyland, but he fucking hated helping out with the working girls. He was currently having to nod and act like he gave half a shit about what this white collar pansy ass was running his fat mouth about.
"Oh yeah, man, I had a Harley, too. Nothing like the wind in your face, eh?" The yuppy asswipe reminded Happy of a puppy, all soft and overeager and just begging to be punted. Instead of answering, Happy just dropped his sunglasses back over his eyes. It was a relief when Starla coaxed the John back into the bedroom.
No Other Man Alive
Ace woke after an hour of hard sleep. She winced at the healing skin on her shoulders protested the cat stretch. Sitting up cross-legged on the bed, she blew her hair out of her face, mentally twiddling her thumbs. She could hear the sound of voices on the other side of the door, it was early afternoon on a Sunday, and she bet this was when a lot of the guys got in their "ride to live" time. They sounded friendly.
Not willing to cross Happy's very specific instructions, and sure that he had to be coming back soon anyway, Ace virtuously resigned herself to showering alone. Bouncing off the bed, she headed to the bathroom, picking at the tape on her shoulder as she went. Twisting to view her back in the mirror, Ace surveyed the exceptionally large artwork with a decidedly confusing mix of pride, horror, and admiration. She was really pleased that Happy had turned out to be as skilled as she'd always thought he would be, but there would be no mistaking the brand of ownership for anything other than exactly what it was if her unlikely husband changed his mind. As a trained tattoo artist, the first thing her official mentor had taught her was that permanently putting any name in your skin was a bad fucking idea, and here she was, days out from hooking up with Happy, with his name a lifelong billboard. Taking a few deep breaths, Ace reminded herself that even though the decision to commit had been speedy, she'd always known who and what Happy was, and she'd consciously accepted that there would be some prices to pay if she kept him.
Ace took a long shower, using the time to take care of all the girly maintenance she wasn't planning on ever doing in front of Happy. She briefly contemplated rubbing one out, but found that it didn't hold a lot of appeal after her morning performance. Having shaved, exfoliated, washed, and even conditioned her ridiculous mane of hair twice, Ace finally turned the water off and dried herself. When a quick peek back into the room told her that Happy still hadn't returned, she decided to blow her hair dry, a time consuming prospect that she rarely bothered with.
An hour later, Ace paced the room, fully made up and her arms aching from the battle to tame her hair. The noise of the club and a few women carrying on in the clubhouse made her a little nostalgic. It sounded a lot like all the backyard barbeques she'd hosted with Tony before things had gotten all fucked up with them. Her stomach growled in protest, and Ace looked longingly at the door. Happy had to be coming back soon, though, he wouldn't expect her to stay in here much longer without food. Ace turned to her trusty iPhone for entertainment, blasting her belly dancing playlist to drown out the people outside the door.
No Other Man Alive
"Gosh, you guys must have the best job in the world!" The stupid prick enthused, thinking that his two hours with a hooker made him some kind of stud. Unfortunately, the two hours had only served to make him even more annoying. Happy had developed a head ache from the cheap air freshener in the room, and all he wanted to do was get on his Harley and tear up the 50 miles or so to Indian Hills, fuck Ace and then eat a goddamn pizza. With beer. But this guy was yammering on like they were "bros" while Starla took her sweet ass time getting dressed. How long could it really take to piece together the scraps she wore?
"I bet you guys get to test the merch all the time, right?" the pissant asked, just as Starla came out of the bedroom.
"Oh not this one," She snarked, "He's got a wife that won't let him out to play."
"Alright, party's over. Time to get the fuck out." Tig stepped in, having taken note of the vein throbbing in Happy's forehead and knowing what kind of disaster it would wreak if the big bastard lost his shit. He pushed the guy out into the hallway and closed the door in his face. He wasn't quite fast enough to prevent Happy from taking the bitch by the throat, though.
"Keep your fucking tongue in your mouth about my old lady or I will cut you open, throat to cunt." His voice was cold and almost conversational, the threat more terrifying for the lack of heat behind it. He let her go when she nodded her agreement.
No Other Man Alive
Happy stormed down the corridor, the bitch had taken the opportunity on the ride back to stretch a 30 minute trip into an excursion that cost him an hour and a half. He was horny and hungry, and his skull felt like it might split in two. He hammered on the door, hoping to find Ace as naked as he'd left her. Instead she flung the door open with her bitch face on.
"Thank fuck, I'm starving." She growled at him and Happy stared at her, dumbfounded and pissed. Before he could think of anything to respond with, Starla sailed past him toward the brothel side, and he learned that he had been gravely mistaken when he'd thought that she understood where they stood.
"I hope I didn't wear him out too much for you, sweetie!" Starla tossed over her shoulder at Ace.
Hap had barely a second to catch Ace around the waist with his right arm as the redhead tried to launch herself at the dumb hooker. In that instant she'd transformed from the self contained woman he'd just inked, back into the feisty, hot headed fighter he'd known back in Bakersfield. She kicked and struggled to free herself from his grip, while screaming very creative obscenities in Spanish. Jury, and a few brothers had gathered to see what the scene was about when Starla sealed her own fate.
"God, control your bitch, Hap." She smirked, confident in her position as one of Jury's top earners to protect her. It didn't.
"Shut your fucking trap." He ordered her, pulling his SIG with his left hand, relieved when Ace finally stopped kicking him. He nodded to Tig to come and get Ace, because he didn't trust the reprieve. When Tig had ushered her through the crowd to a safe distance, Happy spoke again.
"Jury. Brothers before money. This loud mouthed gash has been nothing but fucking trouble, put her out or I'll go to Jax with it." He demanded, beyond caring what position it put the Indian Hills President in.
"Of course, brother," Jury placated him, and Happy lowered his weapon. "There's a wetback pimp that offered for her a few months back, I'll just give him a call, ok." Jury pushed the shaking whore further down the hall, finally disappearing from view.
Happy glared around at the gathered men, who started to find anything else to look at, dispersing in an overly casual manner. He noted Tig still gripping a subdued Ace by the biceps.
"Let her go." He told his sergeant, unsure of how she was going to react. He caught the nervous look that she threw to Tig before crossing the short distance to him. He could feel her trembling a little when she wrapped her arms around him.
"I'm sorry, I get kind of insane when I don't eat?" She offered uncertainly, and she was clearly feeling more than a little unsure herself.
"Fuck, I'm ordering some goddamn pizza before she bites someone's head off." Tig chimed in, heading into his room across the hall, his outburst cutting the tension.
"Yeah, I forgot about that." He admitted, rubbing his head roughly before smoothing Ace's hair back awkwardly. "Come on, my head's about to fucking split."
Ace rubbed her breasts against his cut suggestively.
"You know what's really good for headaches, right?"
No Other Man Alive
When Tig kicked their door 45 minutes later, they were both dressed and relaxed. It was an unexpectedly domestic scene as Ace cleared off a nightstand for the pizza boxes, and the three of them settled down to destroying some food.
"Feel better, Holyfield?" Tig asked when Ace stood to toss her plate in the trash. She let loose an impressive belch, which set her off on a laughing jag. Hap just shook his head and grabbed more food, but Tig looked thunderstruck.
"Happy, man, I think I might be in love with your wife." He stated with complete sincerity, which made Ace laugh even harder.
"Yes, Tig, I feel much better. I get mean when I don't get fed regularly." Ace was sheepish as she crawled onto the bed to sit behind her man.
"How much pizza have you had?" she questioned as she peered around him to see the empty box.
"A lot." Happy looked back at her, a little defensive.
"I just don't see how you eat like that, and still manage to look like you do." She pointed out, rubbing a hand over his abs deliberately.
"I like to fuck a lot. And fight." Happy answered, kissing her hard.
"Jesus, it's like live porn." Tig marveled from his perch on the infamous armchair.
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