Mason: Inked Reapers MC

by West, Heather

  “If you need me,” he’d said sternly, his eyes wide and intense, “any time, day or night, just call and I’ll be there. You got it?”

  “I got it.”

  Standing in her apartment Brea looked at the phone which was more than just a device, it was a life-line. With it she could be in touch with Sylar every day. With her few belongings unpacked in the furnished bedroom, Brea didn’t have much else to do. She didn’t start work until the next morning. The night stretched before her, cold and alone. Though she was used to spending every night alone at her parent’s old house, this felt different. Here, no one would be coming back in the morning. It was just her. Brea sadly lowered herself against the apartment’s sofa in the open plan living area. A sad lump formed in her throat as she realized that independence wasn’t as liberating as she’d hoped it would be. She was so used to having someone else around. Now she would be cooking for one, coming home to an empty apartment.

  On the verge of tears Brea called the one number she had entered into her phone. Sylar swiftly answered.

  “You okay?” he demanded briskly.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” Brea did her best to sound convincing. “I was just wondering what you were doing?”

  “I’m heading out to work.” In the background, she could hear the locking of the front door and Sylar’s heavy footsteps approaching his motorcycle.

  “Oh, okay,” Brea said softly.

  “There’s been some issue…at the factory.”

  “Oh?”

  “Someone else got hurt,” Sylar explained gruffly. “And now I’m expected to sort it all out. As if I don’t have enough going on at the moment.”

  “Maybe you could just call in sick?” Brea suggested sweetly, thinking that if Sylar did that he could drive over to Colridge and they could order in a pizza and watch a movie together, like they used to do when they were younger. Back then they lived on take-out food and watched countless movies together. It was easier to sit side by side and watch something than to talk about losing their parents.

  “Mine isn’t the kind of job you call in sick to.”

  Brea frowned. Surely every job would permit you to call in sick when you had to?

  “Good luck for tomorrow,” she heard Sylar climb on to his bike and start the engine. “I know you’ll do great.”

  He ended the call and Brea was once more alone in her apartment. She didn’t want to dwell on the emptiness so she got up and headed for the bedroom, pulling her sketch pad out of a drawer. She decided she’d spend the evening drawing in readiness for her first day at her new job.

  Chapter 11

  After a brisk ten-minute walk, Brea was standing in her new place of work. The walls of the tattoo parlor were lined floor to ceiling with intricate images, each of them beautiful and breathtaking and probably already inked onto someone’s body. The air smelt of disinfectant and nail polish. Nervously Brea introduced herself to the heavy set man on the desk. He had piercings in his nose and running the length of his ears and a large stud in the center of his chin. He looked fearful but when Brea spoke to him, he gave her a warm smile and ushered her through to the back.

  Art was everywhere. On every wall, on the arms of the artists in the back area. It was beautiful to behold. Brea took a deep, steadying breath certain that this was where she belonged. The fear she’d felt the previous night evaporated leaving only giddy excitement in its place.

  Chapter 12

  Miles shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he walked. He wished that his Uncle hadn’t sent him to Colridge alone. With someone else, it would be easier to occupy his time while he waited for more assignments to come in. As he wandered down the streets, he idly glanced at the boutique shops which sprung up around him. There was a bakery, a coffee house, which was already pretty full, and a gothic art gallery. Colridge felt like a surprisingly progressive place and he felt strangely at home there, even though it wasn’t his gang’s territory.

  He was wearing dark jeans and a loose fitting white t-shirt. He hadn’t pulled on his leather jacket knowing it would be foolish to do so. Even though the sun was shining and the people he passed seemed to be in good spirits, he knew that if they saw a Highway Reaper’s logo that would all change. He’d be picking up his teeth from the curb after receiving one hell of a beating. But without the jacket he looked like anyone else. His t-shirt exposed the sleeved tattoo he had on one arm. It was an homage to his late grandfather who had served in the navy, full of battleships, large anchors, and stormy seas. He barely remembered his grandfather, just the stories he used to tell him on cold evenings about his life at sea. When Miles listened, he imagined this vast, magical ocean on which his grandfather sailed. The stories captivated him. Had Miles not been enrolled into the Reapers he would surely have gone into the service himself. Although it was doubtful that they’d have him, considering his illustrious police record.

  Miles had reached a small tattoo parlor. The dark interior was obscured by all the images, which were up in the window; He stopped to look at them. There were ornate dragons, floral skulls and proud eagles with their wings spread. From what he could see there must be a very talented tattoo artist working there. Miles rubbed at his naval sleeve. It had been a few years since he’d had it completed and ever since then, he’d been eager to have something new inked on himself. Getting tattooed was like an itch that constantly needed to be scratched. Deciding that a new tattoo would be a great way to kill some time, Miles stepped inside the parlor as the chime above the door tinkled to announce his arrival.

  After half an hour he’d decided to get the lyrics to his favorite song inked in ornate lettering across his chest.

  “We’re pretty busy,” the guy at the desk said apologetically as he glanced at his laptop screen. Given the quality of the work on display, this didn’t surprise Miles.

  “I was hoping to get it done sooner rather than later,” he admitted.

  “Well,” the guy pressed his lips together thoughtfully. “We can fit you in if you don’t mind an apprentice working on your tattoo? We’ve just had a new girl start with us.”

  For a moment Miles was apprehensive. He wasn’t sure he wanted someone with little experience making a permanent mark upon his body. But then he reasoned that they needed to start somewhere and how hard could some ornate text be?

  “Sure,” Miles nodded and gave a soft smile. “That sounds fine.”

  Chapter 13

  Brea nodded nervously.

  “I know it’s only your second week here,” Gina explained, her expression kind, “but you’ve been making some great progress and text is relatively easy to work on. It’s a big piece though so you’ll probably need a few sessions with the client.”

  Brea nodded again. She’d worked on a few small tattoos since the start of her apprenticeship but always under the watchful gaze of her mentor, Gina. But if Gina thought that Brea was ready to handle a client on her own then she trusted her judgment. And the thought of working alone on someone was as scary as it was exciting.

  “If you have any problems, I’ll be in the next room so you can just give me a shout, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Gina placed her hands firmly on Brea’s shoulders and looked down at her, which was easy for her to do since she was an impressive 6ft 2in. With her bright blue hair, she looked like some sort of ethereal Goddess whenever she walked down the street. Her arms were adorned with ornate snake tattoos that curled up towards her shoulders and licked at her neck. Brea hoped that one day she’d be able to look as fiercely beautiful as Gina always did.

  “I have faith in you,” Gina gave Brea’s shoulders a gentle squeeze.

  “Thanks.”

  “And if that brother of yours wants to pop round again, he’s welcome anytime,” Gina added with a playful wink. Brea squirmed awkwardly. She got that Sylar had the whole brooding thing going on, but it was still embarrassing every time Gina talked about how hot she thought he was.

  “The client is through there,”
Gina pointed to a closed door and Brea took a deep breath. She hoped that whoever was behind the door would be patient enough to allow her to work on them over the next few weeks. Progress would be slow thanks to her inexperience, but she hoped that Gina had taught her enough in a short time to let her at least be competent.

  Chapter 14

  With his shirt off Miles waited for the apprentice to arrive. Thankfully, it was warm in the room so he didn’t mind being half dressed. His naval themed sleeve was in stark contrast to the rest of his pale, muscular upper torso. Dark ridges of old scars criss-crossed over his chest, scars which Miles hoped to one day hide completely with tattoos. He wasn’t one for showing his scars. It made him feel oddly vulnerable.

  Whenever women saw his scars, they wrongly assumed that he’d acquired them during his time riding with the Reapers. But the stab wounds and cigarette burns had all been souvenirs he picked up during his years living rough. It was a time he was keen to forget altogether.

  The door creaked open, pulling Miles away from the dark memories of his past. He felt his breath catch in his throat when he saw her walk into the room and hoped she hadn’t noticed. She was a vision. Wearing dark skinny jeans and a loose-fitting black tee she was effortlessly beautiful. Dark hair bordered an angelic, elfin face. She was so unlike all the woman Miles usually encountered who’d plastered on makeup over craggy faces to try and look halfway decent. This woman was a natural beauty. She didn’t look like she belonged in some small tattoo parlor in Colridge. She looked like she belonged in the pages of some fairy tale book.

  “Hi,” she greeted him softly, her voice as sweet as her pure, beautiful features. “My name is Brea and I’m going to be your artist.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Brea.” He liked the way her name felt in his mouth when he said it – exotic yet oddly familiar. It was a name he could say a thousand times and never grow tired of it.

  “I’m Miles.”

  “Hi, Miles.”

  He gave her what he hoped was his most alluring smile. She maneuvered around the chaise lounge and started gathering together materials. When she bent over, Miles couldn’t help but take in the view of her impressively perfect ass. His hardening cock reminded him of how he ached with longing. Despite the hangover, which hung around him like a foggy cloud, when he saw Brea he just wanted to grab her waist and haul her over onto the chaise lounge. He wanted to see her pretty face crumple in ecstasy as she cried out his name.

  “Black?” Brea was looking at him expectantly. Miles blushed. Could she sense what he’d just been thinking?

  “Sorry?” he felt dazed, confused and slightly embarrassed.

  “You want black ink for the tattoo, right?”

  “Yeah,” Miles smiled nervously, rubbing his neck. “Black ink works just fine.”

  Chapter 15

  Brea woke up before her alarm had a chance to shrilly ring out through her apartment. She practically bounced out of bed because she was so eager to start her day.

  It was her third appointment with Miles this morning. His tattoo was pretty much complete, but she kept adding tiny, ornate details – a skull here, a small dagger there. Pretty much anything she could think of to keep him coming back while still maintaining the integrity of a beautifully designed tattoo. There was something about Miles which made Brea desperate to get to know him better. He was sexy, mysterious and had an irresistible air of danger. It was engrossing, she was utterly captivated.

  So far she had learned that he was in Colridge for work and was staying at a local motel in town. When he’d told her this, her pulse had quickened. Wondering if it was perhaps some thinly veiled invitation to spend the night with him which of course, she wanted to do. Each time she saw his hard, toned chest she wanted to rake her fingers down it. As she leaned over him, working, doing her best to remain locked in concentration, she could see the steady rise and fall of his chest. His beating heart was so close. He was so vulnerable, so exposed and so…so sexy.

  Brea couldn’t stop thinking about him. In the shower, cooking lunch, even in her dreams Miles was there. He had a warm smile and kind eyes. Brea loved making him laugh during their sessions. But she knew it couldn’t go on forever, at some point his tattoo would be complete and they’d go their separate ways.

  The thought of not seeing Miles again was disheartening for Brea. She knew she was being silly, he is a client and this is life, it goes on. She just couldn’t stop thinking about how much she loved their conversations and yearned to know more about him – like how he’d acquired the scars which made a tragic map across his body.

  As she dressed for work Brea made the decision that she has to ask Miles out. After all, the worst thing that could happen was that he’d say no. And the best? Well…maybe she’d get to check out that motel room of his.

  Chapter 16

  “Morning” Brea tried to appear bright and bubbly as she walked in, pausing to tie her hair up so that it wouldn’t fall onto his chest as she worked, as it had during their first session together.

  “Morning,” Miles replied in his deep, gentle voice. Brea soaked up the sound, letting it envelope her like soft, sumptuous silk.

  “Did you sleep okay?” she inquired politely as she began preparing her equipment.

  “Well, I was alone. So no.”

  Brea paused, taking in a nervous breath, trying to hide her now blushing face. Was he flirting with her? Suggesting that he longed for her to be in his bed as much as she did? She told herself that she was being ridiculous and tried hard to plaster on a look of indifference as she turned around to face him.

  “You think we’ll get this finished today?” he asked.

  “I hope not.” Brea realized she said that all too quickly but couldn’t remove her gaze from him. HIs eyes made her feel as though she was falling. She waited for a crack in his smile to tell her that he felt the same way or any response for that matter. But he just kept staring straight back at her.

  Brea dared to let her heart guide her, not giving her mind a second to tell her she was being crazy, that she was taking too great a risk. She approached Miles and placed her bare hands upon his chest, which glistened with the dark freshness of his almost complete tattoo. Miles reached around her waist for her ass and gripped it, pulling her tight to him. When their lips connected the kiss wasn’t soft, it was intense, almost carnal. Brea let his tongue hungrily press against hers as Miles leaned back on the chaise lounge, pulling her with him.

  She was straddling him as they kissed passionately, there was nothing romantic about this kiss; it was a longing. She could feel the bulge of his excited penis throbbing tantalizingly close to her. As his hands eagerly covered every inch of her body during their kiss, she wanted to throw off her clothes and just ride him then and there. There was something about Miles. When she was around him the shy, uncertain girl of her past was gone. He made her feel liberated, made her feel like a woman.

  They were still kissing as Miles started to unbutton the blouse she was wearing. Brea knew that she needed to stop things before they went too far. Anyone could walk in at any moment and if found in such a compromising position, she’d surely be fired. But instead of pulling away and ending their embrace Brea was fumbling with the zipper of Miles’ jeans, desperate to free his dick. When her hands finally clasped around it, she uttered a blissful sigh. Miles was well endowed but not large enough to scare her. At school, Brea had heard stories of guys being built like coke cans and she always feared how she’d react if she were presented with such an appendage.

  But Miles was perfect. His dick was rock hard and pink in her hands. She stroked it, teasing the tip.

  “Let me fuck you,” Miles growled deeply at her. “Let me fuck you so hard, you’ll come until you’re dizzy.”

  That was all the invitation Brea needed. She wriggled free of her jeans and panties, letting them drop to the floor. Miles used his strong hands to guide her hips into place. She was still straddling him as he entered her. Brea gasped as she felt the f
ull length of him glide up within her. He was big enough to make her breath catch in her throat.

  “Fuck! You feel amazing.” he said approvingly. Slowly, Brea started to grind up and down his dick. With each rise of her hips, she felt a storm brewing inside her. Her whole body felt chaotically excited, the way you do on a rollercoaster when you’re slowly ascending towards the one big drop.

  Miles gripped her hips and pushed against her hard and fast. Brea tumbled over the top of her rollercoaster. She leaned her head back as she fell and delighted shudders resonated through her body.

  “Yes,” Miles groaned as he fucked her. “Come for me. Fuck, yes,” his body tensed beneath Brea. For a brief second he looked pained and then his expression changed to one of deep enthralling ecstasy.