The Ink Romance Series

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The Ink Romance Series Page 3

by Bridget Taylor


  “Honey, there is nothing little about me, I can promise you that. How about you come over here and show me what that mouth can really do? Besides spew nonsense. Hmm?” The infuriating, sexy, muscled, annoying man turns to me, as he throws on a tool built. My mouth waters. The grey shirt stretches over his broad chest outlining the muscles he has. My body feels like it’s humming with need. No, that must be the anger, right?

  “You! You dream killer! And you’ll never know what this mouth can do!” I yell one last time poking him in the chest with my finger. Oh, wow. So solid and beautiful.

  No, Leslie! He has a little penis and is annoying! That’s the mantra, say it!

  “Damn, aren’t you a little hellcat!” his friend chimes in. He has blonde hair, brown eyes, is a little shorter than his villain pal, but has a kind smile, unlike his friend. When the inky black-haired God smiles, it’s like he is plotting something.

  “You won’t ever know!” Dramatically turning around and stomping away, I put an extra flair in my hips to make my ass sway. He doesn’t need to know that though. Flamingo barks aggressively in the back sensing my frustration.

  It’s time to squish this guy. It’s time to move on.

  “I don’t want to know, Crazy!” he shouts. His voice reverberating off my needy, horny, and achy bones.

  I flip him off before slamming the door. I hate him!

  “Dude!” His blonde friend laughs. “Damn, your business neighbor is feisty!”

  “More like a pain in the ass,” the Inky black haired guy grumbles.

  I put my ear to the door to try and make out the rest of what they are saying.

  “Yeah, but a hot pain in the ass. Did you see her eyes? Oh man, shoot me dead! They are gorgeous,” the blonde guy groans.

  That makes me smile. At least he seems descent.

  “You aren’t wrong, Dylan. She is gorgeous, but she might cause me some problems,” my dream killer states.

  Peeking through the blinds, I can see that he is looking at the building. Our eyes meet and my body lights up with flames again. I’ve never had such a reaction before. My breath hitches, my heart pounds, and my panties get wet from need.

  “But damn, what a problem to have,” dream killer looks away and slaps his hand on his friend’s chest.

  I bang my head against the door. I might as well start making it a habit. What is it with this day! Yanking a red Starburst from my pocket, I pop it in my mouth and start to relax. David and Molli might be right on two things: I have an addiction and I need something that isn’t battery operated.

  Chapter 4

  “Three thousand dollars. Wow. What are you going to do with it?” David leans against my counter, holding a bottle neck beer. The condensation on the dark glass drips so much, he grabs a napkin.

  “I don’t know.” Defeat. I’ve heard my voice do a lot of things, but I haven’t heard defeat in a while. What can I do with three thousand dollars? I could add on the house, pay towards the mortgage, buy myself something fancy, go on vacation…but none of that appeals to me. I want to help the animals. I want to expand the shelter, so we can take in more strays and start being known for adoptions instead of a temporary boarding house. I know that’s not what it is, but it’s what it’s starting to feel like. Each day that passes, it starts to feel like a pet shop instead of a rescue. I don’t want that. Maybe I’m in over my head. Maybe I have no idea what in the world I’m doing. Maybe I should go back to school and be a veterinarian.

  Oh, there’s an idea. The money could go to that! Even though it’s hardly a drop in the bucket for how much it would cost, but what’s more student loan debt, right?

  “I really have no idea, David,” I sigh. Looking at the window, the woods are full of trees, the birds chirp, and Flamingo is playing with a butterfly, which makes me smile. I can always count on him.

  “Well, maybe just put it aside for now. It’s not like you have to make a decision this very moment. You have plenty of time.” David takes a sip of his IPA and shrugs.

  “Yeah, I know. I just feel like it needs to be decided now, though. I feel like I’m backed into a corner for some reason, and my way out of that was the shop next door. Now, some tall, black-haired, six-packed, blue-eyed, muscled, annoying, arrogant man has it! How am I supposed to work by someone who clearly has no care in the world except himself?” I shake my head. “Unbelievable,” I scoff into my mojito.

  “So talk more about this tall, blue-eyed monstrosity.” David pushes the drink into my face, forcing the minty fluid to rush down my throat. Wow, I’m buzzed. Is this drink three or drink four?

  Who cares?

  Gasping for air after finishing the glass, I start making another drink. Muddling the limes and mint, I decide to add a little strawberry this time. Mixing the white rum and club soda, the fizz pops and sings, begging me to drink it.

  “So, do tell, do tell.” David gestures.

  “Oh, right.” I take a big swig. Delicious. “This guy has the nerve. The nerve, okay?” I sway a little.

  “He just walks up to Duncan, not even knowing the guy. He doesn’t even know Duncan, David! And he just hands him a big wad of cash.” David pushes the drink into my face again right when my throat was getting dry. What perfect timing.

  “And his friend, so cute by the way. Is just standing there next to the blue-eyed God’s truck, like this isn’t a new thing, just leaning casually.” I wave my hands in the air, but I hit the kitchen cabinet.

  “Ouch. I think I broke it!” My eyes start to tear.

  “Oh my God, drama-queen. You didn’t break it. Jesus, give you three drinks and you’re a toddler in a tiara. Cool it. Tell me more about this horrible person.” David brings me to the living room where only soft objects surround us, like my nice fluffy couch.

  “Ah, I love this couch.” I tilt my head back and close my eyes.

  “Oh no, don’t you even think about snoozing on me right now.” David nudges me.

  “What were we talking about?” When did two of David get here?

  “You are exasperating, woman!”

  “Oh, exasperating! That is exactly what that guy is, David! He is stands next to his big cherry red, sex-on-a-stick truck, which by the way means he has a tiny penis. That’s what big truck always mean. Anyway, I run up to him and call him a dream killer, which he is, and he has the audacity, David, are you listening? The audacity to ask, ‘what else I can do with my mouth,’ and that I should show him. I mean he might be the best thing I’ve ever seen on two legs, but the moment he opens his mouth, it ruins it.” It doesn’t, but David doesn’t need to know that.

  He takes a sip of his beer. “Yeah, sounds like you really have some sexual tension already.”

  “Ew! That guy! I’d rather walk across glass.” I wouldn’t, but David doesn’t need to know that either.

  He spews his beer and laughs. “Aw man, this was my favorite shirt,”

  Molli decides to make her appearance after a long nap. “What did I miss?” She sits next to David, steals his beer, and cuddles against his side.

  Oh, there are two of her too.

  “Well Molli, our friend Leslie here seems to have an annoying neighbor, but with sexual tension as an added benefit. Finally! I give it a week, if that, tops, before you guys are smooching your way into his oversized truck, that you love-hate so much,” David says as he steals his beer back, kissing Molli’s forehead.

  “Never. I’ll never stoop that low.” Oh, I’d stoop low all right, to the ground, on my knees, slowly lowering his zipper, seeing if he is as big as the rest of him is.

  “Sure, that’s why you’re drooling,” Molli points out.

  My hand goes to my chin, and sure enough, drool.

  “It’s cause I’ve been drinking!” Always blame the mojito!

  “Sure, whatever you have to tell yourself, so you can sleep better.” David gets up and stretches.

  “You’re leaving?” Molli looks up at him with her big doe eyes.

  “Yeah, Molls, I have
an early day tomorrow. I’ll see you guys tomorrow night though, promise.” He kisses her forehead like always. And I don’t know if it’s the booze, but both have this look of pure longing and contentment at the same time. Longing because they want more, but contentment because they can finally feel each other, even if it is for a moment.

  “Bye, David. Thanks for listening to me.” I get up and hug him, but the mojitos rush to my head and leave me swaying. David catches me, lifts me into his arms, takes me to my room, and puts me to bed.

  “All right, time to dream of your guy. Molli will be joining you in a minute. Then you guys can do that drunk cuddle thing you love so much.” David kisses my cheek, but it’s quick and chaste. It’s nothing like when he kisses Molli’s forehead.

  “Mmmmk, bye Davey.” Closing my eyes, I forget David, my best-friend, and dream of a man with ink black hair and an arrogant mouth that kisses every inch on my caramel skin.

  ***

  The morning.

  Oh, my Starbursts, I don’t know about you, but mornings are rough. Today though, today is a whole new ballgame. I have a migraine out of this world, and I have to deal with barking dogs all day. I knew that last mojito was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have ever drank it. Now look at me, just pathetic. My hair is wrapped in a headscarf, my hand carries a twenty-ounce coffee, and there’s no makeup on this pale face. I look like death.

  The sound of my tires crunching on gravel echoes into my mojito-soaked brain, making me wince, but you know what made it go away in two seconds flat? Seeing Mr. Money Bags unloading his truck with what looks like art.

  Art. What does this guy know about art?

  Doing my best to ignore the gorgeous dream-killer, I pretend I’m on my phone so I don’t notice him. I’m almost to the steps of the porch when his blond friend runs right into me, catching me around the waist, swinging me onto the porch, and dropping me on the steps. It’s like I weigh nothing. He handles me so easily. That’s equally as scary as it is attractive.

  “Well there, hellcat. How are you doing on this beautiful day?” He flashes that award-winning smile, and those honey brown eyes twinkle with mischief. Yeah, I just bet he wears the crown of mischief. The King himself, standing right before.

  “Sorry about that. Well, have a good day.” I turn around to open the shelter and to release Max, but once again, I run into what feels like a wall and topple backwards. The blonde catches me again, only from under my arms, my back is too him, and I’m looking straight in the eyes of my nightmare. Psh, whatever Leslie, more like wet dream.

  “You.” My eyes narrow into slits.

  “Me.” He points a finger at his chest again.

  “You know, we really need to find a way to have different conversations, guys,” the blonde says.

  Finally finding my brain, I wiggle to get loose of the blonde’s hold. My hands go straight to my hips. “Excuse me, you’re in my way.” I don’t know what makes me be so rude to this guy. My parents raised me better than this. I no longer know if it’s because of the shop, or the way I find his biceps bulge when he crosses his arms.

  “I believe you ran into me, so technically, you were the one that wasn’t watching where you were going. Maybe you should pay more attention to your surroundings.” He pops that crooked smile, showing one dimple.

  Damn dimples! They are out to kill me!

  “Believe me, the last thing I want to do is pay attention to anything around here involving you, and your cute blonde friend.” I point my finger at the other guy.

  “Well, beautiful, my name is Dylan, and I’ll be happy to take you out some time, show you the beaches of the west coast.” He takes my hand and kisses it.

  “The beach? Really? I live here.” I snap my hand back. Enough of this.

  “Please move your annoying body three steps to the left so I can get by you. The animals need me.” As I say that, Flamingo pops his head from the Jeep, finally waking up from his cat nap. He barks, jumps out of the car, and comes and sits next to me.

  He growls at the intruder.

  “Yes, good boy.” I pat his head.

  “I just wanted to be the bigger person here and introduce myself. My name is Kane Bridgeshaw, and the blonde is my best-friend Dylan Higher. I would say it’s a pleasure meeting you, but it’s more like an inconvenient itch I can’t scratch. You know the feeling, right? A pain in the ass is the best way to describe it.” He inches closer. His boots touch the fronts of my Toms, making me inhale quickly.

  “Good, then maybe we can stay away from each other.” My shoulder nudges his ribs as I try to pass him, but his hand, his huge hand, wraps around my arm, pulls me to him, and he kisses me.

  I try pushing him away, but he grips me harder, taking my face in his hands as his lips devour mine. He tastes like maple syrup and coffee, and I want more. My lips stop resisting, I thrust my tongue forward fighting for control, but he backs me up against a beam holding my hands above my head. My body heaves trying to gain control of my breathing. My pussy aches so much it hurts and cream fills my panties, ready to take whatever he wants to offer. His tongue glides around my bottom lip, probing my mouth softly. My body is numb. I’m out of control, my lips tingle, and my clit screams for release. He takes my bottom lip into his mouth and bites hard enough to make me gasp in pain and pleasure, but soft enough not to draw blood. I sink into him. My body releases its control and the moment he notices my submission he groans. Realizing what’s happening, I rip my eyes up. He looks beautiful. There is a tint of red in his cheeks from lust, his lips are swollen from our kiss, and his hard length is pressed against my thigh. It doesn’t feel little, that’s for sure.

  “You!” I rip a free hand out of his grip and slap him across the face.

  The sound echoes throughout the porch, leaving a red mark on his perfect evil face.

  “Put me down! Is this what you do? Try and seduce the people that have nothing to aim for now because you took it all away?” I don’t like this. I don’t like this feeling. I feel hopeless and bound to him already. I don’t want to lose control of my body again, the last time that happened…no, I’m not going to think about that.

  “Listen, I’ll let you get away for slapping me this time, but next time, I’m going to bend you over the nearest surface and spank you. Understood?” He growls and I can feel the vibrations of his deep voice sink into my chest, making my nipples bead.

  “You’ll never have the satisfaction of knowing.” Pushing him away, he finally gives and steps back. Opening the door to the shelter, I slam it. A yip sounds on the other side.

  Crap, Flamingo.

  Cracking the door, I yell, “Get in here!” He flies past me, but not before I get one last look at the blue eyes that haunt my dreams.

  Want. Desire. Annoyance. Fear. Lust. I see all those things staring at me before he closes his perfect blue masterpieces, sighs, turns around, and walks to his truck.

  Good. The enemy never makes a good lover.

  Chapter 5

  “No, Ms. Callager, we can’t call the handsome firemen to come get the cat out of the tree.” My lips are so tight to keep my laugh in as Ms. Callager explains that there are five cats in a tree and they need saving, but the only way to do that is if the handsome firemen come and rescue them. Rorie is petting Flamingo and cracking up silently, her blonde hair falling over her shoulders with each shake of her body. Flamingo barks and wags his tail, agreeing that Ms. Callager is just a hilarious old lady.

  “Ms. Callager, if the cats are really in the tree, why don’t you call the fire department?” I ask dubiously.

  “Huh, right. Well, they wouldn’t believe me over you just because you think I have a pretty face. They help the community, Ms. Callager; this is their job. Why don’t you give them a call and then call me back?” My pen starts tapping ferociously on the desk. I love Ms. Callager, but every week she calls, wanting a fireman. I should buy her a calendar or something.

  The doorbell rings, bringing me out of my stupor. “All right, Ms. Cal
lager, I need to go. We just got a delivery. Yes, I hope the firemen come for both our sakes, bye now.” I hang up the phone with a sigh and a deep chuckle. That lady is a hoot.

  “That little old lady is such a horn dog!” Rorie shouts, letting her laughter finally fill the room. She snorts repeatedly, making me laugh back at her.

  The delivery guy smiles, obviously a little uncomfortable with our antics. “Hi, delivery for…” He looks at his delivery sheet, then he looks at me nervously and clears his throat. “I’m just reading what the customer said to put.” He clears his throat again. “These are for the woman that lost her dreams.” He puts the vase down, averting his eyes.

  “Excuse me?” I snatch the vase out of his hands to get a good look. A dozen beautiful black roses. Wow. I have never seen them before. The black is so dark and crisp. The stem is a healthy bright green, a color that is so stark against the black, making it look that much darker.

  “Oh, a card.” On the card I notice that it’s written like an obituary. My face is on it and it reads, “We mourn the loss of the crazy woman’s dreams, may they rest in peace.” Fury unlike anything I ever felt fuels my body.

  Looking at the delivery guy, I say, “Thanks for the delivery. Have a good day.” Dismissing him. Why is he still here?

  “Yes, ma’am. I just need you to sign this.” With shaking hands, he gives me the clipboard. I’m so mean. He was only doing his job.

  “I’m sorry to be so rude. I just…I know who bought these, and I can’t stand the person. It has nothing to do with you.” I give him an apologetic smile. “I know you’re just doing your job.”

  I didn’t realize he had been holding his breath, but he lets out a huge sigh of relief. “Yes, thank you. You wouldn’t believe how many people want to shoot the messenger.” He takes the clipboard and walks out.

  “Pretty flowers.” Rorie comes over to smell them, then snatches the card out of my hand. Her eyes go wide, “Wow. Is this from the guy next door?”

 

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