by K. Webster
“He’s been arrested,” he tells me proudly. My heart clenches painfully.
What have I done?
“Dad, he didn’t—” I attempt to tell him, but he cuts me off.
“Nonsense. That boy is of age and he hurt my little girl. He will pay for what he’s done. This community will make an example of him. Other young men need to understand what will happen if they force themselves on young, underage girls. Just because he’s the mayor’s son doesn’t mean he’s exempt from the law,” he tells me. Patting my leg, he stands up and leaves me to wallow in the horrors of what I just allowed to happen.
In one night, I managed to ruin the life of my best friend. And I hate myself for it.
Chapter 1
Slate
“What do you fucking mean you’re sick? You’re hung over again. Marley, you can come pick up your last check at the end of the week. I’m sorry, but I have to let you go. I need someone more reliable,” I growl as I slam the phone down.
Running my fingers through my longish hair, I curse in frustration. Slate’s Custom Ink has been open just over a year, but we’re struggling. I’m having trouble finding someone with enough sense to help me run the business side of things. Sure, I had the best fucking tattoo artists, but my books were turning to shit and fast.
Standing, I stalk out of my office into the main lobby to greet my first client of the day. She was pretty, but not my type—too innocent looking. I liked the tigers that I could tame into submission.
“Hi, I’m Slate. What are we going to do for you today?” I ask professionally. I’m sure it’s a contrast to my colorful appearance. My skin is decorated with many tattoos from over the years. Most of them came from my years in the slammer. God, I hated that fucking place, but I really honed my craft during those years so it wasn’t a total waste.
“Hi Slate, I’m Erica. Can you tattoo a picture of my cats? I live alone and have like twenty,” she says seriously. Her fucking cats? My jaw must have dropped a bit because she burst into giggles at my expense.
“Oh man, you should have seen your face. No, I actually want a four leaf clover on my hip bone. I’m in need of some good luck,” she confides, grinning at me.
Shaking my head, but allowing a grin to spread across my face, I lead her into my workspace.
“Hop up in the chair. Unbutton your pants and we’ll get right down to business,” I instruct as I put my gloves on.
“Sheesh, Slate, at least buy me a drink first,” she teases.
She’s funny, I’ll give her that.
“Hey Boss, what time is Marley coming—well, hello, gorgeous,” I hear Joel whistle from the doorway. He’s my best friend and wingman. He’s also a fucking horndog.
“I fired her ass,” I snap as I turn to face him. He’s eye fucking Erica and she’s loving every second of it.
“You need office help?” she asks. Unfuckingreal. Joel’s big mouth always says stupid shit in front of customers. “My friend just lost her job. She’s incredibly smart and could handle things around here with ease.”
“I’m already taking care of it. We’ll figure something out,” I growl as I sit on my stool and slide over to her. “So, just a simple four leaf clover?” I ask, changing the subject as I thumb the area I plan to ink.
“Yep, right there and about two inches in diameter. Nothing big or detailed,” she tells me.
“Humph, sounds like your dick, Slate,” Joel laughs from the doorway.
“Joel, leave,” I grit out at him. He just fucking laughs and ignores me.
“So, Erica, me and a buddy of mine are having a party tonight. You should come and hang out with us. Slate’s ass will be there but you can hang out with me, beautiful girl,” he says, winking. I can tell she’s eating it the fuck up because she shrieks and jerks in excitement.
“Yes, Joel, I’ll be there and I’ll bring a friend. Just write down your number and address,” she instructs him.
“Do it and fucking leave, Joel. Go take inventory of our supplies or something. I don’t pay you to make dates with the customers,” I grumble.
“Erica, tell your friend to stop in tomorrow for an interview. I’ll be here around ten. Somebody around here has to fucking take care of things,” he jabs at me.
He laughs and winks at her before leaving. Her face is crimson and she fans herself.
“Wow, Slate, he’s so hot,” she confides like we’re best freaking buds. Rolling my eyes, I press the gun against her skin that I’ve prepped and take silent satisfaction when she curses, clawing the shit out of the sides of the chair.
“This may hurt a little,” I inform her after the fact.
Nice girl is gone as she glares at me, flipping me off with both hands. I laugh and proceed to giving her the best fucking shamrock she’s ever seen.
“Hey, Asswipe,” Scivvy calls out as he passes me in the living room. Joel and Scivvy like to throw these weekend parties, and somehow they fucking talk me into coming to each one. While Joel is my best friend and I would trust him with my life, Scivvy gets under my skin and most days I fire his ass at least once. He never fucking leaves. Asshole.
“Hey Douche Bag,” I return as I scroll through the iPod, looking for some music that fits how I’m feeling. I’m in a pissed off mood from having to really fire Marley, so I need something heavy. Something angry. Settling on some Korn, I lean my head back and try to push away the stress of the day.
Funds have been tight lately which confuses me, considering we’ve been the busiest we’ve ever been. I need help—real help—soon, before my company withers away to nothing. The sounds of talking and laughter grow louder as more people arrive at the party. At one point, Joel passes me beer that I gladly down in seconds. Closing my eyes again, I drift back to the shop. I’m just going to have to go to the bank and ask for more operating money, but I’m not even sure if they’ll allow it. This is so fucking frustrating.
“Hey Slate,” a familiar voice purrs. I catch a whiff of her strong perfume before she straddles me on the couch.
“Bianca. What are you doing?” I snap. Grabbing both hips, I flop her onto the cushion beside me.
“Slate! You don’t have to be rude,” she glares as she straightens her tight as hell dress. At one time, I loved peeling those dresses off of her gorgeous body. But she was always so fucking needy and I had no use for her anymore.
“Scivvy’s not rude,” he tells her from behind the couch. I hate when he refers to himself in third person. No longer interested in me, she hops off the couch and follows him out of the room. Thank God.
“Here man,” Joel says, handing me a white pill. I don’t even ask what it is and toss it back, chasing it with the last of my beer.
“Thanks, I’ve had a bad fucking day,” I grumble.
“Well, you’re day just got better,” he winks and nods his head over at the door.
First, in comes Erica. She looks much different from when I saw her earlier. Gone is the ponytail and she’s dressed to the nines. But it’s the woman behind her that catches my eye. She’s beautiful. Her brown hair is midway down her back and styled in sexy beach waves, highlighted in blonde. My eyes peruse her body and I drink in every curve. Large, most likely fake, tits are the first thing I notice. She’s wearing a sequined tank top and some skinny jeans paired with heels.
When our eyes meet, she takes her time checking me out. The slow, uncaring pace she observes me with has my dick hardening quickly. There’s no doubt about it. I am going to fuck this woman tonight. Her slow perusal of me is cut short as she turns to look at someone entering the living room.
“Ladies, let’s get you a drink,” Scivvy tells them as he appears suddenly. That was a quick fuck. The women follow him into the kitchen, leaving me to process that woman’s effect on me. She may not act too interested now, but things will change when I bend her over to fuck her later.
Figuring that Scivvy might be making moves on her, I stalk into the kitchen. Sure enough, Erica and Joel are already making out, which l
eaves the woman standing awkwardly with Scivvy. He’s eyeing her up like she’s a piece of meat.
“Sciv, Bianca said she had something to give you,” I lie. He looks confused for a minute, but saunters out of the kitchen to look for her.
As I get closer, I can tell she’s a fucking knockout. No wonder Scivvy was all over her. There was something about her though. She looked distant—maybe even spaced out. When her eyes meet mine, they flicker with recognition momentarily, and then fade again.
“Need a drink?” I ask, once I realize she still doesn’t have one.
“Sure,” she tells me distracted. Her voice is sexy as hell—a little on the husky side. Digging in her purse, she finally produces what she’s looking for. As I pour her a shot, I glance at her from the corner of my eye. Popping open her compact, she plucks out a pill and sits it on her tongue.
“What do you have there?” I ask as I hand her the shot glass. She snaps it shut and stuffs it back down in her purse before accepting the glass.
Quickly tossing the shot back, she smiles before handing it back to me. “Just something to take the edge off.”
Who am I to fucking judge? I pour a shot and gulp it down before I make her another one.
“You’ve got a lot of tattoos and piercings,” she observes as she takes another shot.
“Master of the fucking obvious,” I tease.
She frowns at me and steps over to take the bottle of Vodka from me. Instead of pouring it, she puts it to her plump fucking lips and drinks straight from the bottle.
“Sweet girl, you better slow down. A princess like you doesn’t look like she can hold much liquor,” I tell her and sweep part of her hair back over her shoulder.
She looks shocked that I’ve invaded her space but quickly recovers, masking her features to one of cool indifference. “I’m not sweet. Not a princess. And I can hold my fucking liquor.”
As she says this, she sways. Hold her liquor—my fucking ass. Taking the bottle from her, I mimic her and chug some of the alcohol. Once I finish, I allow her to take it from me once again.
Stepping close to her, I touch her once more. I can’t fucking help it. She’s killing me in her tight clothes and bitchy attitude. I want her screaming my name later.
Bringing my lips close to her ear, I breathe, “You may not be a sweet girl but I bet you taste sweet.” Her breath catches and she clutches onto my waist to steady herself. The touch ignites something between us because seconds later, I’ve captured her lips and am sucking, licking, tasting her. And she is so fucking sweet.
My body presses against her as I pin her against the counter. She moans into my mouth and it’s almost my undoing.
“I’m not a nice guy,” I growl as I nip at her bottom lip.
Chuckling darkly, she says, “Good, because I’m fucking horrible.”
I’m not sure why, but that statement turns me on. Bad. Grabbing both of her hands with mine, I break our kiss and pull her with me to the back of Joel’s house. He lets me use his spare bedroom for getting laid, and even though I’m pretty sure Scivvy was in there earlier with Bianca, I don’t care.
When we get into the bedroom, I silently breathe a sigh of relief to see the bed still made up. Locking the door behind us, I push her up against the door, pressing my body against hers.
“Do you want me?” I ask the woman as my hands slide down the sides of her arms. She’s getting goosebumps from the touch.
“Yes,” she moans as I suck on her neck.
“I like it rough,” I warn her as I press my cock against her belly.
“And I need to be punished,” she affirms. Something about her words strike me as odd. She must have pretty low self-esteem. But then again, if you are two seconds from fucking a guy you haven’t exchanged names with, that you only met a little while ago, your self-esteem is probably as low as it can be.
“Is that so, sweet girl? And exactly what do you like?” I ask. Most chicks I have to coax into my freaky bedroom ideas. This woman is delivering them on a fucking platter.
“I’m pretty sure whatever you have in mind will be perfect,” she assures me. Her hands make their way to my jeans and she starts to unfasten them. Within seconds, my jeans hit the floor and my cock stands proudly.
“Commando?” she asks and arches an eyebrow. It is seriously fucking hot to see that look on her face.
Ignoring her obvious question, I pull away from her. “Get naked, sweet girl.”
Not needing to be told again, she pulls off her tank top and frees her breasts.
“No bra?” I toss back at her. She giggles and it’s the first time I see something other than the empty woman I’ve met. I grin at her and yank my black T-shirt off and step out of my jeans. She shimmies out of hers, while her eyes skitter over my decorated, muscled chest appreciatively. The last thing to go is the tiny shred of material that is her panties.
Grabbing her hands, I lead her over to the bed. “Lay down on your back and spread your legs,” I command. She doesn’t even flinch at my tone and crawls onto the bed, giving me a prime view of her perfectly round ass. Rolling over onto her back, she eyes me expectantly as she waits for what’s next.
“Your skin is flawless—a canvas just waiting to be colored. A blank slate,” I tell her softly as I admire her creamy skin. She smiles until I say my next words. “And I’m going to fuck, suck, lick, bite, spank you so that you’ll remember this night for at least a week after every time you look in the mirror. Now spread your fucking legs wider, I’m ready to taste just how sweet you really are.”
Chapter 2
Jolie
Who is this guy? He radiates anger, control, dominance. It is terrifying, but it’s also an incredible turn on. The way he inspects every angle of my body has me shivering. He kneels upon the floor and grasps my hips with both hands, roughly bringing me to the edge of the bed. His tongue drags its way along my thigh from my knee to just before he gets to my pussy. Gently, he bites my flesh and I moan loudly.
I want to call him something—anything—but I don’t dare. I’d rather just enjoy the moment. My life is so fucking horrible right now that any moments that make me feel any shred of happiness, I’ll take. Erica is worried about the tailspin I’ve been on lately. Hell, I’m worried.
My thoughts are interrupted as his thumbs spread me apart and he licks me across my clit. Exquisite fire burns through my body in pleasure. Before I’ve barely recovered from that first touch, he begins a seriously delicious assault on my clit. I’m climbing over the edge of ecstasy within minutes, but it comes slamming to a halt when he pulls away. Before I can argue, he bites the inside of my thigh pretty hard. I’m about to call him an asshole, but he’s attacking my clit again.
“Oh God, please don’t stop,” I moan as I clutch onto his hair.
I’m once again right on the edge of my climax when he bites me again in the same spot. This time, I continue to throb and am not as surprised by the move so that the second he touches my clit again, I am thrashing with my orgasm. I’ll definitely have bruises there and for some reason that brings a smile to my face.
“That good, huh?” he smirks, noticing my state of elation. He stands again, giving me a prime view of practically the only part of his body that isn’t tattooed—his cock. I’m going to enjoy having him inside of me. My ex-husband Tucker had a small dick. Closing my eyes, I try to push away thoughts of Tucker and—
“Whatever’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, check it at the door. We’re here to have some fun. Now, let’s fuck sweet girl,” he says as he opens the drawer on the bedside table and retrieves a condom. Once he’s sheathed himself, I scoot back up onto the bed as he crawls over me.
His lips attack mine and he tastes like me mixed with vodka. It’s intoxicating. My “happy pills” as I call them are finally starting to kick in and I’m feeling quite free. I’m just about to tell him to hurry when I feel him line his cock against my opening and slam it in. My god he’s huge!
“Fuck!” I s
hriek as he begins pounding me. He feels amazing and it’s been way too long since I’ve had sex. Tucker doesn’t even really count in comparison to this guy. Tucker. Ugh!
“Right here, sweet girl,” he croons and kisses my lips more gently this time. The gentle move sends a shockwave to my heart. I’m not sure if I love or hate the feeling but bottom line is—it’s the first time in months I’ve felt anything in that black hole.
His thrusts are about to send me over the edge, but I suddenly want—need—to be on top.
“Flip over,” I instruct breathlessly as I try to keep my orgasm at bay. His eyes fly open as he studies me a moment before complying. In one swift roll, he’s underneath me and I’ve straddled him.
“You know, I prefer my woman beneath me but watching your tits bounce so beautifully and seeing your hair all wild from this position has me glad I’m making an exception for you,” he groans as I ride him faster. His hand firmly caress my breasts as his thumbs and fingers pinch my nipples.
“Oh, I’m close,” I whimper as I feel another orgasm tearing through me. The moment it hits me and my pussy clenches around him, I feel him release his own climax.
I collapse on his chest and am surprised when he wraps his arms around me. This was supposed to be a one night stand with a hot, mysterious guy to help me forget about Tucker, but instead I am finding myself enjoying the embrace. Before I can stop myself, tears roll out of my eyes onto his chest. He tenses from beneath me, but doesn’t say anything.
One of my hands makes its way to his scalp as I scratch it softly with my fingernails. I don’t know what made me do it, but it just felt right. Comforting. Just as I start to relax, he firmly grasps my wrists and pulls it away. Flipping us over to where I’m on my back underneath him, he glares at me. Why the sudden change of mood?
He pulls away, quickly shedding the old condom and replacing it with a new one. Seconds later, he has both of my wrists once again, pushing them above my head as he enters me.