Bad Boys Under the Mistletoe: A Begging for Bad Boys Collection

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Bad Boys Under the Mistletoe: A Begging for Bad Boys Collection Page 56

by Anthology


  A second later he was gone.

  Walking away, leaving me on the couch to myself.

  It was still better than where I was. The screaming. The threats. And then the moment Jon lost his mind and swung. I knew something like that could happen and I was mad at myself for not running sooner. But the second I felt his fist touch my jaw, that was it. I got out of there. Even if I jumped right back into the arms of someone who hurt me, it was still something. And Taz never meant to hurt me. I never meant to hurt him. We were just too young when everything fell to pieces.

  Even if nothing came of this now, it was still good to see him. To know he was alive and well. To touch him. To smell him. To feel alive after such a long time of feeling empty.

  My eyes slowly started to shut.

  I ended the wild night with one last thought.

  I still want him… I still need him…

  Chapter 9

  TAZ

  I was wide fucking awake. I threw the blankets off me and got out of bed. I stood at the window and looked out to the darkness. I could have offered her the bed at least. Not that I would have slept next to her. Distance was needed for me and her. Being too close was too dangerous. Even on the couch, I felt my body wanting to go a place…

  I could fuck any woman in the world and keep it physical. Making her scream my name, feel her body, then we finish up and that’s that. But with Steph, it was emotional. Goddammit, she still had the key to the vault that turned me from bad boy into man.

  This was all her fault, too.

  She was on my couch.

  I still had no idea what happened to her. Part of me enjoyed stealing her from another man. I wasn’t used to being the hero kind of guy so that suit felt okay to wear for a minute.

  I ended up leaving the damn bedroom to check on her.

  The apartment was basically a flat with a bedroom and bathroom.

  I could see her on the couch right from my bedroom door. She was asleep.

  Which was good.

  I didn’t need her awake, questioning things. What I did need though was for her to tell what me the hell happened with whatever guy she was tied up with.

  I went to the couch and stared at her. Damn, she was so beautiful. She had always been beautiful. Just so naturally beautiful. That’s what really got to me, you know? I remember in high school all these other girls plastering themselves with makeup and there was innocent Steph, no makeup and a knockout.

  I grabbed a blanket off a chair and put it over her body. I leaned down and kissed her head.

  I walked back to the bedroom knowing one thing.

  If she stayed a second night, she was going to be in my bed.

  Needle to skin, music in my ears, a project to focus on.

  That’s what made me feel okay.

  I had someone from the shop filming me as I worked on what was going to be a really amazing skull on the leg of a man named Trey who served two tours in Iraq. His other leg had been blown off by an IED. Five guys were in his convoy and one didn’t make it home. The story behind the ink was pretty amazing too. The solider who sacrificed his life had a thing for skulls. He had a bunch of skull tattoos on himself. So Trey decided to get a skull tattooed on his leg as a tribute to the fallen soldier and a reminder that he still was alive.

  Stories like that were really something to hear. Then to be part of it was something else.

  The music blasted in my ear as I worked. I ignored the camera. I ignored everything around me. When it was time to ink someone up, that’s all that mattered. Yet I had a piece of my brain thinking about Steph.

  After a couple hours of inking Trey up, I pulled the earbuds out of my ears and looked at him.

  “Almost done,” I said. “Want to take a break? Grab a drink?”

  “No,” he said. “I’m here and I’m not moving until this is done.”

  “Awesome,” I said.

  I switched out to a fresh pair of gloves. I cleaned up my supplies a little and readied myself for the last bit that needed to get done. I left my earbuds hanging around my neck.

  “What was his name?” I asked.

  “Andy,” Trey said. “Good guy, too. Had a girl back in Tennessee. I met her once. Nothing I could do to help her, you know?”

  “I can only imagine,” I said. “Stop me if you need anything, okay?”

  “Do your thing, Taz,” Trey said. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time. I couldn’t believe I got a spot with you here.”

  “Well, let’s make the best of it then.”

  I put the earbuds back in and went back to work.

  I had to finish the coloring, some shading, and that was it. Trey would leave and the next person would show up. Story after story, ink after ink, it was how I kept time moving forward.

  Even if my past was literally watching me.

  Chapter 10

  STEPH

  I ate and paced the apartment as long as I could. Taz left a note on the counter with St. Skin’s address in case I needed something. I wasn’t sure if that was a hint to come see him or not.

  Truthfully, I sat on the edge of the couch and debated what I do next. Just get up and go or stay and wait for Taz. The one thing that was constant was my need to get away from Jon. For good. Whatever empire he was building I wanted nothing to do with.

  I could leave. Catch a cab and then what?

  Go to the airport? Rent a car? Buy a car? Just pick a random city and go there?

  It seemed so much easier the night before. When my emotions were high and jaw throbbing in pain. It all made better sense then.

  I sat there, barely moving, for almost an hour. Then my phone beeped with a text message. I smiled, hoping it was Taz checking in on me.

  It wasn’t Taz though.

  It was Jon.

  Where the fuck are you?

  My hand shook as I held the phone. I read the message five times before answering.

  I’m gone. Don’t text me. Don’t call me. Ever.

  Somewhere inside my heart I hoped that would be the end of it. Jon would call me a bitch or something and then that would be it for good. I’d never heard from him again. I’d never have to deal with him again.

  But that wasn’t the way it worked in Jon’s world.

  The little dots showed up on my screen.

  Then another message came through.

  I’m not done with you. I have to finish what I started.

  I didn’t respond to that text message. Instead, I stood up and hurried to my bags. I got dressed. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and saw that my jaw had a bruise on it. So there I was painting my face again, keeping the truth from Taz. I just didn’t want him to do anything crazy and get himself into trouble.

  I then used my cell phone to find a ride to St. Skin.

  Even if Taz didn’t know the entire truth, I still felt safe to be near him.

  When I opened the door to St. Skin it was like stepping into another world. There was music playing at the front but there was music coming from every room in the place. A woman stood behind a long glass counter that had supplies, piercing stuff, and pictures. The walls were filled tattoo ideas, along with several framed pictures of celebrities in the shop.

  I asked to see Taz and the woman behind the counter pointed. So I walked down a hallway with doors all around me. Each room was buzzing with the sounds of needles. It made my skin crawl a little but it quickly grew on me. I spotted some guy holding a camera and it was in that room where Taz was. There was a guy on a table with Taz hovering over his leg, tattooing him.

  The man holding the camera stopped filming and walked away. So I took his place and watched.

  I had never seen Taz so focused in my life. It wasn’t just tattooing, it was art. I knew he liked to draw but never imagined he would become this. He was like a celebrity in his own right.

  Taz sat back and wiped the man’s leg. There was a smear of ink. Taz then started to spray his leg and wipe everything away. All that was left was a brig
ht and beautiful tattoo. An amazing skull that was so detailed it looked real.

  “Okay, brother, we’re done here,” Taz said. He took his earbuds out and looked back at me. He smiled and nodded, then held up a finger.

  A second later the man with the camera came rushing back and all but shoulder bumped me out of the way.

  I heard the guy who got the tattoo say, “Holy fucking shit…” as I walked away back to the front of the shop.

  I guess that holy fucking shit meant Taz did a good job.

  I lingered around the front, looking at all the designs on the wall. Everything from pictures of animals to tribal stuff. There were thousands of choices on the wall.

  “You know, you’re not supposed to pick from the wall,” a voice said next to me.

  I turned and saw Taz standing there. He was in a black t-shirt that hugged his beautiful body. His tattooed arms shot out of his shirt, leaving my eyes with plenty to stare at.

  “I wasn’t picking,” I said. “Just looking.”

  Taz flipped through a few of the designs and stopped at a tribal heart. “That would look good on you. Of course, I’d do it free hand. Add some flare to it. Make it your own. What do you think?”

  “Sorry, Taz, I am not getting a tattoo.”

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  I’m terrified and needed to see you.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Your apartment is boring.”

  “It’s a temporary rental,” he said. “When I’m done here I’m heading back home.”

  “How long is that?”

  “Not long at all,” he said, as though he was able to read my mind.

  If he left in a couple days, I was screwed. Unless I left with him.

  We stared at each other again in strange silence.

  The door opened behind me and Taz moved his eyes. “Hey, Chaz. You ready for today?”

  A big guy walked into the shop and already had his right sleeve rolled up. He had some flames on his arm. He patted his arm. “I’m ready. Let’s get this thing.”

  The man with the camera returned again too.

  “Wow, you really are busy,” I said.

  Taz touched my waist. He leaned in. “It’s all bullshit. But it makes me a ton of money.” He then looked over his shoulder to the man with the camera. “Jerry, take Chaz back and get some stuff. I’ll be there in a few.”

  “I should probably go,” I said. “I don’t want to hold you up.”

  “Are you going to be at the apartment when I get home?” Taz asked.

  “I should be.”

  “Should. That’s not comforting.”

  “Do you want me there?”

  “Oh, sweetheart, I’m not playing that game,” Taz said. “You called me. This is all on you what happens next.” He planted a kiss on my cheek. “You better think long and hard of what you’re trying to accomplish.”

  Taz walked away and I stood there feeling almost naked.

  If I going to stay another night, I’d need to tell him what happened with Jon. Or at least make him understand that Jon was a bad and violent man. I just needed a little bit of time and help.

  I walked toward the door.

  “Are you thinking about getting one?” someone asked me.

  He was a young man, bright eyed, smiling.

  “Uh, not sure,” I said.

  “We have the best people here,” he said. “Taz is awesome too. Wish we could steal him and make him stay.”

  I smiled.

  I wish I could steal him too… again.

  Chapter 11

  TAZ

  By the end of the day I was tired. I cleaned up my station and put my feet up. I took a few breaths, shut my eyes, and let the day drain out of my system. The tattoos, the stories, the art of it. It was a little ritual of mine. I didn’t carry anything with me. Each day was new and I treated it that way.

  My mind went right to the woman in my apartment. This wasn’t just the past coming back to haunt me. This wasn’t my mind messing things up either. I never believed in that one person bullshit, but if that were to exist, then Steph was the one. I let her go a long time ago so she could make something of herself.

  Now we were damn near right back where it all started once before.

  There was a knock at the open door and I saw Prick standing there. That was his name. He took care of all the piercings for St. Skin. He had two shot glasses in one hand and a bottle of something in the other.

  “Taz, my man, should we celebrate?”

  I licked my lips. I was definitely thirsty. But I waved a hand.

  “Sorry, Prick, not tonight,” I said. “I’ve got some personal stuff to handle.”

  “Would it have anything to do with that pretty woman poking around here before?”

  I swung my feet to the floor and stood up. I walked toward Prick with a grin on my face.

  “I was supposed to stop here in St. Skin, ink up some fine people, meet some finer women, and then move on.”

  “But now you’ve got something bigger,” Prick said. “How romantic.”

  “Romance,” I said with a nod. “Trust me, man, this isn’t romance.”

  What exactly was it?

  A storm of wild lust… and it was about to get crazy.

  I stepped into the apartment and there was the lingering smell of woman. Clean clothes, some kind of girly soap smell, and then something flowery and fruity mixed together. Things were already starting to feel maybe a little too comfortable. I tossed my keys to the counter and walked to the bathroom, where the door was half open. That’s where the sweet smell of Steph came.

  I kicked at the door and saw her standing at the sink. She was leaned forward, her left fingers covered in some kind of makeup stuff.

  She jumped and looked at me, surprised.

  “You took a shower without me?” I teased.

  She looked good though, really good. Standing there in another long t-shirt. The shirt came down far enough that it looked like she wasn’t wearing anything else. Hell, maybe she wasn’t wearing anything else.

  “What are you doing back?” she asked. “I thought you…”

  “Day’s done,” I said. “Now we get a chance to talk.”

  “Let me finish up here and we’ll talk.”

  She turned and put her fingers to her face. She was trying to get rid of me. She was afraid.

  Of me?

  No.

  Of me finding out the truth.

  I never back down from anything in life. I sure as hell wasn’t going to change now.

  I grabbed Steph by the arm and pulled at her. “Hey, what is this?”

  She let out a cry and swung her left hand, slapping me across the face. My right hand grabbed her waist and I turned her, putting her against the wall between the sink and the toilet.

  The left side of her jaw looked clumpy and messy from whatever makeup she was trying to put on her face.

  “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” I growled.

  “Don’t do this,” she said. “Please, Taz. Don’t do this. Don’t get involved. I’ll leave right now and it’ll be like this never happened.”

  “Fuck that,” I said. I grabbed a towel and handed it to her. “Wipe your face. Or I will.”

  I feared what I knew I’d see.

  Steph avoided eye contact as she wiped away the makeup to show a nice mark on her jaw. The second I saw it I felt a rage inside me that I hadn’t felt in years. Maybe not since my boy Ace got killed.

  “Shit,” I said. “Someone hit you. I asked you if he hit you.”

  “And I lied!” Steph said, her voice cracking.

  “Why?”

  “I didn’t want you involved, Taz. I was scared when I text you. I didn’t know what else to do. I never thought that would happen.”

  “Yet it did,” I said. “And the first thing you did was ask for me. Right?”

  “Taz…”

  “Tell me why then. Right now tell me why.”

  Our eyes locked. Shit was
finally starting to spill over. All those days into weeks into months into years. It was boiling over for both of us. Standing there in the steam filled, soap scented bathroom of the apartment.

  “Because you’re the only man I could trust,” Steph said. “The only one who would help me. Who would drive to come get me, leave me alone a little, and then give me a place to stay.”

  “Right,” I said. “You’re in a bad situation, I’ll help you, sweetheart. But someone touches you like that? Never. This changes everything.”

  “I don’t want you in trouble,” Steph said.

  I reached up and touched her jaw. I curled my lip. “Too late, sweetheart. I’ve been in trouble from the second I met you.”

  Steph reached up and touched my face.

  This time when our eyes locked, we both knew what was going to happen. I slowly pressed my body to hers, pinning her against the wall. My lips craved her body in a way that only someone with an addiction could possibly understand. All the years of being clean of her were about to go to fucking waste.

  My hands held her hips as I kissed her. Our tongues met and things exploded even more. I kissed her like I was never going to get the chance again. And knowing the way shit went between me and Steph, that was very possible.

  My fingers pulled at her long t-shirt, bringing it up so I could find out what she had under it. I touched the smooth, warm skin of her legs and trailed up until I felt the edge of her panties.

  “Shit,” I whispered as we kissed even harder.

  Steph put her hands to my chest and clawed her way to my neck.

  I brought my right hand up between her legs, feeling the burning heat expelling from her body. I pressed and curled my fingers, the softness of her panties giving way to the softness of her pussy. I hurried and pulled her panties to the side, allowing my fingers to touch her bare, sweet folds. She was soaking wet, her slit beautifully tight. When I thrust two fingers at her, her entire body bucked and she let out a groan.

 

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