by Debra Kayn
"Hey," Ink called from the doorway.
She turned around. Her heart sped up. "Hey, you."
He looked both ways down the hall, and stepped inside the kitchen. "What's going on? Why aren't you up at Kurt's house?"
His broad chest filled her vision. She looked at the area that had the bandage on earlier, and got up from her chair. "What did you do?"
She ran her hand over the oval mark, surprised to feel the tiny raised area and see the ink behind the marks. "What is that?"
All his tattoos were symbols, lettering, and objects. This one was an abstract blob that stood out from the wonderful ink on the rest of his upper body.
He removed her hand and walked over to the fridge to grab a water bottle. "It's nothing."
"Why don't you ever explain your tattoos to me?" She picked up her coffee and drank. "You're so nonchalant about them all. You're like a walking art piece, you should be proud of what you've done. Not many people can tat themselves."
"Enough." He grasped the bottle hard enough to turn his fingers white. "I don't want to talk about my ink."
The vehemence in his tone set her back on her heels. "Fine."
He stared at her. Unable to read what was going on in his head, she focused on the swelling under his eye and the split lip, and refused to talk. She walked across the kitchen and put her mug in the sink. Her arm brushed his. She gazed up at him, her heart pounding in her chest. His eyes flared with arousal, and she hadn't missed the quick intake of breath or the way he'd shifted away from her.
"I'll leave," she whispered, turning away from him and walking toward the door.
There were things she wanted desperately to understand about him, but she refused to let him treat her like a bitch. She was obviously good enough for him to sleep with her, and he kept her protected, but she needed more. Maybe he really was done with her.
"It's your mark," he blurted.
She stopped and turned around. "What?"
He ran his hand over the left side of his chest. "You wanted to know what the tattoo was, and it's your mark. The last hickey you gave me. The bruising was there, and I covered it with ink to make sure it stayed on me."
"Oh." She pressed her hand to her stomach to keep the flutters under control.
He'd made her permanent in his life.
The first time he shared anything about his work, he'd involved her.
Tears came to her eyes and she lowered her gaze. She had so many questions, but he'd given her enough tonight. He'd given her hope and the confidence that whatever happened, she meant as much to him as he did her. He'd put her on his skin, and that was a gift she didn't want to ruin by begging for more.
"Night, Ink," she whispered, and walked out of the room.
Outside, she stopped to give her legs a moment to stop shaking and her phone vibrated. She pulled it out of her pocket and looked at the screen.
Sweet dreams, Ace.
She caught her sob with her hand. He'd given her enough to feel secure that he wasn't walking away from her.
Chapter Nine
The breeze outside the backdoor of the Sterling Building brought relief to the abnormally hot day. Lilly twisted her hair and lifted the mass off her neck. It was almost impossible for the girls to practice inside without overheating, even with the air conditioner on.
The Moroad riders rode up and parked along the curb. Lilly let her hair go and waved at the members. After all these days, the Moroad members never spoke or came inside when they picked up the girls from practice.
"See you tomorrow." Katie waved and hopped on the back of a bike.
Lilly suspected the rider's name was Stache, considering the girls talked about him often. He had a killer mustache that drew her attention, and she wasn't normally a fan of lip hair.
She smiled and returned the wave. "Good job today, Katie."
The nearest biker climbed off his bike and stepped up onto the sidewalk in front of her. She gazed up into green eyes and couldn't help raising her brows when she realized where she knew him.
"You might not remember me, but my name's Cam." He held out his hand. "I remember meeting you when you were a young girl, trailing your dad around the bar. It looks like you've learned from the best—Cam nodded toward the building—you run a nice place for the girls."
She placed her hand in his and watched him raise her arm and place his lips to the back of her fingers. Her body tingled at the brush of his rough, short whiskers.
"I thought you looked familiar," she said, not sure what her dad's relationship with Cam was. "I remember you visiting Pitnam."
He held on to her hand. "You've grown up into a beautiful woman."
She glanced over at the Moroad girls, but they weren't watching. Not wanting to start trouble, she pulled her hand away. "My dad comes out here a few times a year. I'll have to tell him you're riding with Moroad colors now."
"Your dad treated me decent, and that's something I never forget. I'd like to give the same respect to his daughter by inviting you back to my house. You can fill me in on how your old man's doing, and I can get to know you better." Cam stepped closer, and she caught a whiff of smoke and leather.
She couldn't say the scent repulsed her, because she found herself remaining close to Cam. He was like any other man she'd known her whole life. Younger than her dad, he looked to be in his forties. Her gaze lowered to a hard, broad chest. He kept himself in shape, and seemed polite enough.
Cam watched her intently. She swallowed. There was no escaping the interest he gave her.
"I..." She caught Ink out of her peripheral vision, and in a fleeting thought, she liked that another man was paying attention to her. The Bantorus MC members knew she was hands off. Cam had no boundaries when it came to her.
Her confidence grew. "I would enjoy that."
Ink stepped up beside her. "She's off limits."
"Bantorus doesn't mark their women?" Cam's brows rose in amusement. "There's no man by her side and no stamp visible."
"I'm not—"
"She's. Off. Limits." Ink stepped between her and Cam. "You and your men will stay away from her, or you deal with me."
Behind Ink, Lilly couldn't see Cam's reaction. She bit down on her lower lip. All she wanted to do was show Ink that there were opportunities for her to see other men. She had no desire to start something with Cam or get involved with another motorcycle club.
"Understood." Cam walked backward, until he was in view of her again, and said, "Pass my best wishes on to your family."
She nodded, afraid to say anything else. Ink's body, while broad and tall seemed gigantic right now. She didn't want a fight breaking out.
The Moroad bikers rode off with the girls, and Ink turned and faced her. She lifted her chin. His anger was not going to make her change her mind. She had a right to make decisions regarding her private life, and he had no say in how she chose to spend her free time, or whom she spent it with.
"Don't even try it." Ink's gaze intensified. "I don't want you talking to anyone from Moroad MC."
"The Moroad girls work for me, if you've forgotten." She leaned forward. "I'm also not claimed. If Cam wants to get to know me better, that's my decision to make on whether I want that or not, not yours."
"Ace..."
She walked away without saying another thing. There was nothing to say, because she was right.
Remmy stood beside the opened door on the truck. She hopped in and ignored the softening of Remmy's gaze. No one understood.
She tried to focus on the road all the way home while Carrie drove. The only thing in her head was the anger behind Ink's statement to Cam. Did he really believe that he had the right to lord over her as if she belonged to him?
Her vision blurred and she blinked. There was something seriously wrong with what happened back in town. Ink would've gone after Cam if the other man would've challenged him.
The whacked part of the whole fight was that she secretly loved how Ink took possession of her. It wasn't a f
ull-out claim, because that wasn't allowed, but he'd made Cam believe Ink was her man. For a few minutes, it felt nice to pretend Ink owned her.
In the side view mirror, Ink rode behind the truck. She stuck her arm out the window and let her hand ride the air current while she watched him ride. How many times had she walked away rejected and mourned for what seemed impossible?
"Lilly?" Jojo laid her hand on Lilly's thigh. "Are you okay, hon?"
"Yeah," She pulled her arm into the truck and mustered a smile.
Jojo patted her leg. "I know you got the hots for Ink. Maybe I could help."
The unselfish offer hurt her worse than if Jojo had kept her opinion to herself. Ink had used the bitches. Every single one.
Jojo probably had sex with him more than she ever had, and Ink had given Jojo more than what he'd given her.
The truck stopped. Lilly opened the door. "Thanks, but I'm fine and I'm not hot for Ink."
She stormed up the steps, skipped the front door, and walked the path around the clubhouse. What she had for Ink was beyond hot. Jojo believed she only wanted to be another pussy for Ink insulted her.
The girls didn't know she already had a messed up intimate relationship with Ink.
The Bantorus members didn't know.
Her dad didn't know.
Sometimes, she wondered if Ink ignored her because she allowed him to come to her all this time. She wasn't bemoaning the fact that she'd wasted years of her life running after him, because she had no plans to stop. Nothing could take her away from him, because for her, she only wanted to love one man.
One impossibly stubborn, pigheaded, and—
Two solid arms wrapped around her and her feet left the ground. She squirmed, glancing over her shoulder, knowing who she'd find. "Ink. Let me go."
"Shut up." He carried her all the way to Kurt's house, and instead of taking her to the door, he rounded the corner of the garage.
"I'm serious, Ink. Put me down." She pushed against his shoulders.
He set her feet on even ground again and took his hands off her, but she couldn't go anywhere. His hands were pressed against the side of the house on each side of her. Locked in place, she pressed her back against the wood to keep from touching him.
"You belong to me," he said.
"Do I?" She said, her voice rising. "What's the perks, Ink? Tell me what I'm getting out of belonging to you? Because right now, it pretty much feels like I have absolutely zero say-so in how I live my life."
His gaze intensified and he lowered his head. "Don't go there."
"Trust me, I'm going there." She pushed him away, and this time he let her go. "Every day, I'm waiting for that moment when you're in front of me and we have a few minutes to grab whatever we can from each other. It's never enough."
"Ace," he said, moving toward her.
She backed away. "Did you know I had Jojo offering to help me get your attention? She offered to teach me a few things that would grab your attention. Do you have any idea how that made me feel?"
"She means nothing," he said, hooking her neck and bringing her forward.
She held herself stiff. "She's had more of you than I have."
A low growl came from him. "Bull shit."
"It's true." Her voice shook. Her body shook. Her heart shook, and she feared it was going to break.
"I don't care about any other girl, but the one right here." Ink laid his forehead against hers. "You've had me since before you were old enough to look at a man."
"Then talk to my dad and go in front of the club," she whispered. "Don't make me feel like the losing bitch."
"Damn it, Ace." He sank his fingers into her hair. "Do you love me?"
"You know I do." She grabbed his vest. "I always have."
"Do you trust me?"
"Yes."
"Can you believe that I'm doing what I have to do, so that someday you will be my woman in the eyes of the club?"
She sobbed, letting out a breath so deep, she had no idea she'd been holding it. "Yes."
"Thank fuck for that," he muttered, claiming her mouth.
She kissed him as if it was their last and let her desperation show. She clawed at his chest, grabbing handfuls of his shirt. The muscles between her legs throbbed. She needed this verbal commitment from him to set her back in balance.
His chest heaved. Her leg curled around his, hooking her boot behind his calf.
"Don't leave me," she said, against his lips.
He lifted the frayed edge of her short jean skirt, chuckling when his hand met bare skin where her panties belonged. His pleasure thrilled her. She'd run out of clean clothes this morning, and now she was glad nothing stood between them.
"Hang on, Ace." He pulled back enough to undo his belt, his zipper, and release his cock. "Shit."
"What's wrong?" She panted, reaching for him.
He grimaced, putting his cock back in his jeans. "No condom."
She grabbed his wrist. "I'm on birth control."
His aroused gaze locked on to her. "I always use a condom."
"I trust you." She meant every word.
His lips thinned. "You don't deserve to have me take you outside."
"I don't mind," she whispered, telling the truth.
There was always a hint of excitement when they were together. The fear of being caught, the thrill of having something that she only shared with Ink.
"Ace..."
She moistened her lips and smiled. "Do it."
He pulled his hardness out again, leaving on his jeans, and then dragged the neck of her tank top down, tugging her bra too, and exposing her breasts.
"Hold on, it's going to be fast and rough." He lifted her.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and crossed her arms behind his neck. Her nipples met the smooth, warm leather of his vest. Already wet with anticipation, she slid down onto his cock. She dug her fingers into his thick hair and greedily kissed him.
He pumped inside of her. Her body shuddered around him. The act was raw, violent, and swift, exactly what she needed to feel his commitment to her and accept that what they had was different, real, and right now.
His whiskers scratched her face and his fingers dug into the cheeks of her ass, pulling her closer, dragging her along his length. Her sex pulsed faster, higher, tighter, and wetter with the urgency coming from him.
"Harder." She dove back into the kiss, stroking his tongue, wanting every part of him inside her.
Her shirt crept up her back and the siding of the house scratched her lower spine. She locked her ankles behind him, barely able to hold on through his powerful thrusts.
There was nothing gentle about what they were doing. She was frantic to keep him. He was desperately trying to make her understand that he was the only one for her. She wanted him to prove that this was real and to take all her doubts away. Emotionally raw and on the edge of insanity, she calmed to the point of believing his promise that someday, there would be no rule keeping them apart.
He pulled his head back, lifting her higher, and latched on to her neck. She arched her back, giving him more skin, loving the suction of his mouth on her.
He growled against her. "Mine."
She tilted her hips, taking him deeper. His cock stroked a spot inside her that had her tottering on the edge. "Yes."
Ink continued to assault the wonderful explosion of feelings consuming her. Pleasure rolled through her, and Ink held her back, rocking his hips, grinding against her clit. She panted, desperately holding on to him, building, tightening, warming, and careened out of control.
He threw his head back and groaned, rising to his toes. His hardness caressed her in long, smooth strokes, and her insides warmed from his release. He licked her neck, lavishing the sensitive spot where she was sure he'd marked her.
She lost all strength, and her legs dangled at his sides, only held in place by his arms. It took several minutes for her to gain her breath and equilibrium back while he continued to hold her limp body.
Finally, he pulled out of her and set her on her feet.
She wiggled her skirt down and closed her legs. The result of having sex with him without a condom moistened her inner thighs.
He pulled his skullcap out of his back pocket. "It's clean."
"Thanks." She wiped the remnants of sex off her and looked around for somewhere to get rid of the soiled material.
He held out his hand and shoved it back in his pocket. She inhaled deeply, reality setting in. "Did you lie about wanting me to wait for you?"
"I'd never lie about this, Ace," he said. "You still mad?"
She raised her head, and touched his lips before kissing him softly. "Do whatever you need to do and hurry, because if I have one more bitch tell me she could teach me how to win you over, I'm going to punch her in the throat."
Ink grinned and kissed her hard. She leaned her head against his chest, soaking in the information and impatient for Ink to move forward.
His chest hardened and he grasped her shoulders, pulling her away. "You're nothing but trouble."
"Okay," she mumbled, only half listening because her gaze went to his chest.
"Ace...I fucked you outside my president's house," Ink said. "I can't let this happen to you. You deserve more than five minutes of sex against the house...Kurt's house. Shit. If the club finds out, I'm dead."
She shook her head, ignoring his concern because the new tattoo above his heart stood out from all the other markings on his chest. She ran her finger over the ink, amazed that he'd tattoo her hickey and loving him more for showing the world that he was hers.
She kissed the spot on his chest. "Thank you for doing this."
"Damn, Ace."
"I'm serious." She ran her fingers over the mark. "This means everything to me."
"Didn't do it for you." He ran his hands through his hair. "Needed to do it for me."
She tilted her head and gazed up at him. "What do you mean?"
"You've always had me." He shook his head and flinched, setting her away from him again. "Sh. Listen."
Kurt's gruff voice grew louder. She stared at Ink in panic. Her heart raced, and the exhaustion she had moments ago fled and adrenaline had her tugging on Ink's vest trying to get him to run. Nobody would believe her and Ink were admiring the wildflowers or talking about what's for dinner. There was nothing innocent about them hiding behind the side of the house.