“Hunter, I’m not going to kill someone. I’m not going to get myself killed. Okay? I have a lot to deal with. I have my own way of dealing with it. The ink? I’m killing time. Switching things up. I like it. Okay? My hair? It’s fucking hair, man. I can’t believe I’m talking to you about hair.”
Hunter finally laughed. “Fine. You win. Just don’t end up in trouble. In jail…”
“Speaking of that,” I said. “How the fuck did my wife end up bailing me out?”
“She’s your wife, Mason. She has more pull and power than your best friend. That could be a problem.”
I nodded. “You look like you have a lot of paperwork there. Enjoy that.”
“Mason, find someone to build the other garage. I want this done. I can’t have that land just sitting there. That’s a waste of your money and my money since it hurts our business here.”
I smiled. “Yes, boss.”
“Fuck you.”
“Have a good night.”
I left the office and glanced back at the sign. RN Custom Rides. It had been a drunken dream of mine to open the shop. I had been bouncing from job to job, fixing cars, bikes, and trucks. Again, my purpose in life was to waste time and get the world to hate me. I figured if there was enough hate, then I’d eventually just disappear. Instead, I ended up with a successful business with a neon-lit sign. And now the promise of expansion.
Yet in some fucked-up way, I just wanted to simplify everything.
I climbed onto my motorcycle and looked out to the darkness that waited. It was so fitting for me, considering everything I was facing. I thought about skipping town. Just throwing a dart at a map and going. Spending time in a cabin in the mountains. Maybe head south and east, crossing into Texas, or just going on until I hit Florida. Or maybe north. Find comfort in cool and crisp weather, getting buried in snow, worrying about surviving the elements of nature. That would definitely take my mind off everything else.
I left the lot without looking back. The truth was that I wasn’t leaving. I was actually starting to dig the idea of having the shop open next to Hunter. A chance for me to work from the ground up again. Build some kind of empire for myself.
It was a good life. And there was enough whiskey and women to dull any pain that threatened to pop up and nip at me.
Back at the apartment, I climbed the stairs and started planning out my night. A shower, fresh clothes, write my letters to Kate and Violet, burn them, then work my way out of that funk to find something to distract me from life.
What I didn’t expect to find was a woman waiting for me at my door.
“Back again?” I asked with a cocky grin, even though my heart jumped a little.
She looked at me with the same gaze—stuck between tears and anger.
There she was…
My Violet.
“Back again,” I said, shaking my head, opening the door.
I was playing it cool, but I would have done anything in that moment to know for sure that she would never leave again.
“I want to know what the fuck you were thinking! A bartender?!”
I let Violet into my apartment and went right to the fridge. I got two beers out and slid one to her from across the counter.
I leaned against my sink and took a few drinks. I held the beer bottle out and stared at it.
“Well, I lost my business because of that stupid lawsuit,” I said. “I like to drink. So that seemed like a decent career choice. Worth a try, right?”
“That’s a lie,” Violet said.
“Is it?” I asked.
“When do you work again?”
“Ah, there’s the problem. See, I guess it’s frowned upon to leave the bar during your shift. So taking your drunk boyfriend to his room was a no-no. But then…leaving again with customers and never coming back…”
“You slept with those two women?”
I grinned and took another swig of beer.
“This was a mistake,” Violet said. “I have no clue what I’m doing here, then. If I’m only going to hurt myself…”
She backed away and started to move toward the door.
My stubborn heart wrestled with my even more stubborn brain. At the last second, I bolted toward her and put my hand to hers as I grabbed at the doorknob.
“Don’t,” I growled.
“Let it go,” Violet said. “Mason…”
“I didn’t fucking sleep with them,” I admitted.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“You said you left the bar with them.”
“I did. But I didn’t sleep with them.”
“Then what- no. Never mind. It’s not my business, Mason.”
“But it matters to you.”
She looked up at me. “Yeah, it does.” She swallowed hard. “Tell me about the tattoos. Why. Tell me, Mason. Please. I’m begging you.”
“You’re going to tell me something then,” I said.
“Fine.”
I took my hand away from hers. I stepped back. I put arms out and flexed them. “What do you want to know?”
“Are they all stories?” she asked. “I mean, that’s a lot of tattoos…”
“It’s my addiction,” I said. “You left me, babe. You left me hanging and hurting pretty fucking bad, okay? I let you in on stuff in my life that nobody else was ever part of. You got closer than anyone. Then you were gone, just like that. I felt like I was exposed. I felt like everyone could look at me and see all that shit. So I started getting inked up. At first, it was just…something. But when I was in that chair, I’d get lost. I’d forget everything. I’d forget you. I’d forget Kate. I’d forget my shop. I’d forget the world. I started going back more and more. I became a canvas for my tattoo artist. I put my trust into him to do what he wanted to me. So, no, none of these tattoos have stories. But together they are all part of something bigger. My whole story.”
I saw the way Violet’s face looked. Her eyes bouncing from my arms to my eyes to my arms to my eyes.
“That’s all because of me?” she whispered.
“Yeah.”
Next thing I knew, Violet was coming at me. Fast. Jumping. Into my arms. I caught her and felt her lips closing in on me just like in the hallway of the hotel.
I turned my head as her lips brushed against my cheek. That little bit though was enough to send all the right signals to all the wrong parts of my body. My fists were ready to clench tight, hold her, command her. My cock swelled in my jeans, ready to come out and fucking take her again.
I forced my hands to her hips and got her away.
“You have a boyfriend,” I said.
“Oh, and that stops you now?”
“I don’t know. What are you doing here? Mr. Scotch can’t get it up? So you want me to fuck you? Want me to make you scream my name? Forget your name? Is that what this is?”
“I don’t know!” Violet yelled. “You keep telling me I left you. Like I did something wrong. Did you forget that I opened the door and your wife was standing there? What was I supposed to do? Make her coffee? Talk to her?”
“I know,” I said. “But you did leave.”
“I hate…”
“Tell me why him, of all people,” I said. “Tell me if it’s real or not.”
“What?”
“Davis. I want to know.”
Violet nodded, then smirked for a second. “It makes you jealous. So jealous.”
“No. I just want to know. No matter what the guy does for you, I got something he never could get: your fucking cherry, babe. Remember that? I was the first one up inside you.”
“I’d never forget,” Violet said.
“So why him?”
“It just happened.”
“No it didn’t.”
“What does it matter to you? You’re married.”
“And you just tried to kiss me. Again. You want me to fuck you, Violet. You want me to do everything to you that he can’t do because he doesn’t know how. So why does it m
atter about me having a wife? You don’t even know the truth.”
“I’m here for the truth,” Violet said.
“No you’re not. You’re here to face your own truth first. You don’t love Davis. He’s a blanket. You couldn’t face that, so you ran back in time hoping things would be different. Because whether you like it or not, life is hard. Life is a cruel motherfucking thing to go through. But every now and again, something good happens. That was you and me. But you took off and ran back into his arms. So confess it, Violet. Tell me you don’t love him.”
“I don’t,” she said. “Okay? I don’t. It all just happened so fast. You don’t even know the half of it, Mason.”
“I’m here,” I said. “You’re here. So start talking.”
“What if I didn’t want that?” she whispered. “What if I did come here with intentions that weren’t that great?”
She stepped toward me again. Our bodies barely touched, and I balled my hands up into fists.
Tempting me was a dangerous game to play.
I had no care and no respect for anyone but myself and what I wanted and what I needed. I had played the good card a few times now.
“Mason… I want you to know everything,” Violet whispered. “And I want to know everything. I didn’t leave you. I left because what I saw fucking crushed my heart. Because the thought of you loving someone else or having a commitment to someone else made me want to die. That’s…that’s the truth, Mason…”
She started to move to her toes.
I moved fast.
I opened my hands and grabbed her face. I held her, my thumbs stroking her cheeks.
“Mason,” Violet purred.
There was one time in my life I’d fallen in love. It was with the right woman at the wrong time. I’d spent years chasing and waiting, fighting what I was told was impossible. I would have cut my heart out of my chest to give it to her.
Then she was gone.
Gone forever.
But here I was, holding Violet’s face. The only other woman I ever loved. I didn’t want her to be gone forever either.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
I was an addict at heart. That meant the chance to slip was always present.
So I slipped.
I put my lips to hers and kissed.
14
With His Breath
(Violet)
It was so wrong.
I felt his lips kissing me over and over. But what was worse…I wanted more. So much fucking more.
Mason moved his hands from my face to my ass. He lifted me up and started to carry me. The kiss broke, and he buried his face into my neck. I clawed at his back as he walked me through his apartment. My body was on fire. I was ready for him. I wanted him. I demanded him. Everything in my life had gone so completely wrong from the second I left him.
Sure, in the back of my mind the words wife and boyfriend burned. I was a terrible person. Maybe I was a slut. Maybe I was a homewrecker. Whatever anyone wanted to call me, I would take it right then in that moment. But the one thing I was actually doing for once? Following my heart. Not following the feeble path that was laid out before me. Not trying to force fate and tempt time to make things right again.
I was just taking it all for myself for once. Being greedy.
And it actually kind of felt good to be greedy.
Mason kicked open the bedroom door and took me to his familiar bed. The headboard that would knock against the wall when I lived next to him. He’d drive me crazy with that headboard, and then I’d become the one in his bed, the reason the headboard was knocking.
He dropped me on the bed and put his hands to the sheets and stared at me.
We just looked into each other’s eyes. Our breathing wild. Our eyes even wilder. I bit my lip and nodded.
Please, Mason, yes. Please…fuck please…
But Mason didn’t do anything else. He just hovered over me.
“Mason,” I finally whispered. “I’m…”
“No,” he growled. “It’s not going to work this way, babe. You’re going to have to make decisions and soon. And not in the heat of this moment. You know who I am. You know I’ll never change. You know I’ll break your beautiful heart. But you know the other side of me and my life…”
Mason moved down. I propped myself up on my elbows. I thought he was going to leave the room, but instead he fell to his knees before me. It was so fucking sexy to see. Like he was succumbing to me.
But I was very wrong.
“Lift your shirt,” he said. “I’m not going to touch you.”
“What?”
“Now,” he ordered.
With one hand, I did as told. I lifted my shirt up to my bra.
“Keep going,” Mason said.
So I did.
I had my shirt up to my chin.
He then came forward. My eyes went wide as I let out a shuddering sigh.
“This is what I’m going to do,” Mason said, his breath spreading across my belly. “And you’re going to tell me when to stop.”
“Okay,” I said.
Mason slowly moved up my body, his hot breath blanketing across the surface. My skin tightened as I shivered. My toes curled as a gush of warmth spread between my legs. I looked down and couldn’t believe this was happening. His hands gripped the sheets tight, and his long arms, thick with muscle, covered with tattoos sticking out of his shirt. I wanted him to grab me. I wanted him to put me on the bed and use those tattooed arms to claim me.
But he wasn’t going to do that.
Instead, he moved up my body, exhaling deep, hot breaths that pounded against my skin. I put my head back and let out a groan. I felt my hips buck a little, pulling against the bed, grinding between my legs. Pleasuring myself with Mason’s hot breath.
He moved over my breast, not touching me, just leaving his breathing to do the trick. My left hand tingled as I moved down and grabbed the bottom of my bra. I was losing control of myself because of him. This was the effect he had on me. He was my addiction. The only addiction I ever had.
I let everything flow away from me. The good and the bad. I wanted to just exist in that moment with Mason. So that’s what I did.
I pulled at the bottom of my bra and exposed myself to him. My breasts fell free, feeling so extra-heavy when I was near him. My body tingled, wanting his hands and mouth to touch me and taste me.
Instead, Mason groaned. His breath touched my nipple, making it shiver with hardness.
“Oh, fuck,” I groaned.
“Yeah, babe,” Mason said. “You’re going to come right now for me. I’ll stay here all fucking day. And I’m not going to touch you. No matter how tempting this fucking is.”
“Shit,” I whispered. “Shit, shit, shit…”
His breath continued to climb across my chest.
He stayed right there, moving back and forth. My hips kept moving, the instinctual need to fuck overtaking me. It was so intense. A feeling that been absent ever since I left Mason.
“Tell me the truth,” Mason said, his hot breath going back down my body.
Warm air was hitting my stomach all the way down to the top of my jeans. Without being told and without hesitation, I let my bra and shirt go. I grabbed my jeans and twisted the button, opening it with one hand. I lifted my ass off the bed and shoved my jeans down, but not all the way. Just enough to show some more skin.
His breath was there a second later. On my lower belly, against my soft mound, so close to reaching between my legs.
“Fuck,” I groaned.
I felt the faintest of his breaths barely brushing against my swollen clit.
Mason kept to his word. He didn’t touch me.
But he was so close…
“I want to know if you love him,” he said.
His breath pounded against my sensitive area. The heavier he breathed, the more I felt him between my legs. I grabbed at the front of my jeans and panties and pushed them again. I thrust up, showing myself to him. Showing h
im my wetness. Wanting him to devour the damage he had done.
I felt a quiver between my legs as I looked down and saw him there. But again, he simply exhaled a hot breath against my wet skin.
“No,” I cried out, my voice crackling. “No, I don’t love him, I never loved him. I only loved you!”
Mason pulled away from me.
The moment was so intense.
My shirt and bra pushed down on my breasts, almost flattening them to my chest. My right hand held the sheets tight, shaking. My left hand gripped my jeans and panties tighter, holding them down, leaving me so exposed to Mason.
Slowly, Mason grabbed my hand and took it away. He then moved up at me again. His mouth slightly open, aiming right for my lips. I felt my entire body start to shake.
“Mason…”
His lips were an inch away. Then closer.
Closer…so fucking close…I’m so close…close…
I moved forward, and that’s when Mason turned at the last second.
I gasped as he went for my neck.
His breath hit my skin one more time and that was all I could take.
The rush of an orgasm hit me like nothing I’d ever felt before.
I grabbed at his shirt and pulled, holding my body tight to his. I gasped, mouth open wide, trying to find air. Mason groaned, breath spreading against my neck over and over. The heat rushing and shivering through my body as my pussy throbbed. I had never come like that before. Without being touched. My calves pulled against the bed as my hips thrust and fucked, so desperate to have Mason inside me.
“Yeah, babe,” he growled. “I can fucking feel it. I can fucking smell your sweet honey. My tongue is going wild.”
“Then do it,” I said, still shivering. “Please, just do it.”
Mason then let the scruff of his face touch my cheek as he pulled away. He stared at me for a few seconds and grinned. His dimples were cute and deadly sexy at the same time.
“What?” I asked.
“You don’t love him,” he said. “I knew it. You fell back into something comfortable. Because you’re afraid of something complicated. That’s why I haven’t given you everything you want yet.”
HATE ME AGAIN: a bad boy romance novel Page 10