[Men of Inked 01.0 - 03.0] Volume 1

by Chelle Bliss

  My forearms burned, my thighs trembled, but I wouldn’t quit.

  I had this shit.

  “Time,” Rob said, putting the targets down.

  “I could go another hour,” I said.

  I knew that shit was a lie.

  I ran for an hour before I walked in this morning, and my legs were shaking to the point of weakness.

  “Sure you could, tiger.” He laughed, holding his stomach. “Your muscles need to rest and recoup. We don’t want to overdo it with the match coming up.”

  “Thank Christ,” I mumbled under my breath.

  “What did you say?” He cocked his eyebrow as he crossed his arms.

  “Nothing.”

  “Why do you seem so fucking pissy today, Mike? Couldn’t get it up last night?”

  “That would seem like a fuckin’ blessing right now.” I sat on the bench to give my legs a break as I pulled the tape off my hands. “Tammy. What a fucking pain in my ass.”

  “I told you she’s a crazy bitch. Stop thinking with your dick so much and use what brain is left in that thick head of yours.”

  I snorted. That had been the funniest damn thing to come out his mouth in a long time—he sure as fuck wasn’t Dr. Ruth. “When did you become a relationship expert? Your shit isn’t all together in the lady department, Rob.”

  “Maybe not, but I told you Tammy was a hot mess. She’s got the cling thing going on and is crazy to fuckin’ boot.”

  “Crazy is an understatement, man.” I shook my head. I had a silent debate with myself on if I wanted to share the details of the entire fucked-up situation. “I went to her place last night to get a piece of ass.”

  “And?” He leaned against the wall and listened.

  “And the crazy bitch had a scrapbook on her coffee table. Do you know what the cover was?”

  He started to laugh as he pulled his lips in his mouth to stop from breaking out into hysterics.

  “You do, don’t you?” I glared at him.

  “I’ve heard stories about her, but I thought they had to be made up.”

  “She had a picture of a bride and a groom. Somehow, she’d put our faces on their bodies. I opened it when she went to her room, and the book was filled with her version of our future. It was beyond fucked up. Gave me the fucking creeps.”

  Page after page contained images of our children with names and photos. Little hearts in all colors surrounded the pictures. She had our life planned out, and all I wanted was a little pussy.

  She didn’t have the brains to hold my attention, let alone make me want to spend an eternity listening to her chatter on about the Kardashians. Tammy wanted status and money, and they were two things I wasn’t willing to share with a woman like her.

  Tammy knew her role in my life—she was my late-night hookup. I never took her out, never led her on, and never promised her happily ever after.

  She always replied, “You’ll change your mind,” but that never happened.

  “Wow, I don’t know what to say,” Rob said as he walked toward the door to unlock it.

  “I ended that shit right there. She cried like we’d been dating for years. What a fucking mess. I don’t need the bullshit in my life, especially not now.”

  “Keep your eye on the goal—fighting, not bitches and pussy.”

  “Didn’t you learn not to use that term when talking about women?” I laughed.

  His cheeks turned pink as he looked away from me. “She’s your sister, and I have nothing more to say about the experience.” He drew the last word out. I knew he had a million things he wanted to say about her, but he kept his lips shut because he knew he’d get a beating.

  Rob was crass. He referred to women as bitches once in front of Izzy, and she caught him off guard and knocked him on his ass. It was a proud brother moment. She took down a man double her size, and for one hell of a good cause. My baby sister has bigger balls than most men I knew. Growing up with four brothers made her rough around the edges and not willing to take shit from anyone.

  “Good choice.” I finished drying the sweat from my body. Grabbing my phone, I threw my bag over my shoulder. “Tomorrow, same time?” I asked.

  “You got it.” Rob reclined in the chair at the front desk, kicking his feet up and putting his arms behind his head. He looked like he was ready for a nap.

  That shit wouldn’t fly at Inked.

  The screen on my phone lit up.

  Tammy—there were at least a dozen text messages from her since I’d walked in.

  Tammy: We were meant to be together.

  Tammy: You’ll come back to me.

  Tammy: I miss you.

  I told her last night we were through, even though we never really began.

  I never asked her to be my girlfriend.

  Fuck her and her insanity.

  I turned the screen off as I reached for the door. The top of my head hit the door before my chest connected with the glass. I saw stars from the impact. I blinked a couple of times before I noticed a woman on the ground. She was picking up the contents of her purse that had spilled.

  “Fuck,” I muttered, as I opened the door to a very pissed-off female. “I’m sorry; can I help you with that?” I asked, bending down in front of her.

  “Why don’t you fucking watch where you’re walking?” she seethed, as she placed her wallet and other tiny items inside her black handbag.

  “I didn’t see you.” I grabbed her lip-gloss that had rolled away, and held it out to her.

  She grabbed the tube from my hand and glared at me with the most mesmerizing hazel eyes. “Obviously.” She scanned the ground.

  Instead of helping her, I stared at her like an idiot.

  Her hair was an amazing shade of brown, with glints of red that sparkled in the light. The straight, smooth locks hung just past her shoulders. She had a small nose, full red lips, high cheekbones, and large hazel eyes with flecks of gold.

  “Hey, I said I’m sorry and I am.” Standing, I tried to be a gentleman and held my hand out to her.

  Her eyes moved up my body, slowly at first, before she stopped on my face with scrunched eyebrows. Her skin felt like silk against my rough palm as she placed her hand in mine. In one quick motion, I pulled her to her feet. Her crinkled forehead and hardened expression disappeared and were replaced with softness. She pulled her hand away from mine with a weak smile and a reddened face.

  “How can I make it up to you?” I asked, still staring. It wasn’t her beauty that had my attention, but something about her eyes—a familiarity that I couldn’t place.

  She used the back of her hand to brush the dirt off her yoga pants. “I’m fine. No need to make it up to me. Just maybe watch where you’re walking next time. You’re kind of like getting hit by a Mack truck.” She laughed. “Hey, I’m sorry I was such a bitch. Just a bad night and shitty morning and you’re the icing on the cake.”

  Tilting my head, I gave her a small smile. “I understand. The last twelve hours haven’t exactly been stellar for me either.”

  She fidgeted with her phone but kept her eyes locked on mine.

  “Got everything?” I asked. I needed to leave. I didn’t need to complicate my shit any further.

  “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for stopping to help.”

  “I’m not a dick. Well, at least not all the time.” I grinned. “How could I not stop and help the beautiful lady that I knocked over? I hope your day gets better from here.” God, I sounded like a total moron, but I couldn’t stop the verbal diarrhea that leaked from my mouth. “Let me get the door for you.” I rushed and pushed it open.

  “Thank you,” she said, brushing against my body as she tried to fit through the doorway, my torso blocking the small entrance.

  A hint of lilac or some flowery shit filled the air, disappearing with the distance between us.

  “Maybe I’ll see you again sometime,” I said, not ready to walk away.

  She smiled at me before turning around and walking away.

  “Y
eah, I’m here every day.”

  When did I turn into Mr. fucking Rogers? I couldn’t stop myself.

  “Maybe we can work out together or something,” I yelled to her.

  I’m officially a pussy.

  “Sure.” She didn’t sound too eager, but then again, she didn’t say no. She placed her bag next to the desk and signed in.

  I watched her as I walked toward my truck.

  My cock was hard last night when I went to Tammy’s, and that turned in to a clusterfuck of epic proportions without me at least getting off for my troubles.

  Seeing the girl that I crashed into wearing a tight, hot pink workout tank top and black yoga pants turned my dick into granite.

  Obviously, I needed my fucking head examined.

  ***

  I flipped on the lights at Inked as I walked through the door to peace and quiet. An ice-cold shower didn’t do much to take my thoughts off the hot piece of ass I ran into at the gym.

  As I sat down at the front desk, my phone danced across the appointment book. It hadn’t stopped vibrating from the nonstop messages.

  The girl was fucking clueless.

  Last night my exact words to her were, “Don’t ever call me again, you crazy bitch.” I thought it was pretty cut and dry. My words were simple to understand, but apparently she didn’t get the fucking message.

  When I heard my sister’s car beep in the parking lot, I braced myself for her bullshit. Izzy would have a fucking field day when she heard about Tammy. I held my breath, tapped the pencil next to my jiggling phone, and kept my head down as she breezed through the door, chattering on her phone to her asshole flavor of the month.

  Izzy isn’t an easy girl—she made the guys earn everything she gave.

  Growing up with four brothers hadn’t been easy for her—we didn’t leave her the opportunity to be easy. Most of her boyfriends got chased away when she was younger. It wasn’t like she couldn’t handle herself, but we made sure to keep her ass out of trouble.

  She threw her bag on the floor next to her station before coming to a dead stop in front of me. I snuck a peek at her. She squinted at me, already reading me like an open book, shaking her head.

  “I gotta go, John,” she said into her phone, popping her gum and looking at the ceiling. Her hands opened and closed, with her fingertips touching, telling me that he was rambling. “Bye, John. I don’t have time for this shit. I’ll talk to you later.” She pressed on the screen before blowing out a puff of air. She leaned over and spat her gum in the trashcan. Classic Izzy.

  “Hey, sis.”

  “What’s wrong?” Cocking her head, she waited, rubbing her finger across her lips.

  “Nothing.” I didn’t want to tell her, but I knew it was inevitable.

  “You boys are so bad at hiding shit. I’ve spent a lifetime studying you jackasses. I know you better than you know yourself. I’m guessing woman problems. Just tell me, because I won’t stop asking until you do.”

  “Tammy.”

  “Ah, the fruitcake,” she said as she giggled.

  “What do you know about her?” My phone started to dance across the desk again, and I grabbed it to stop the jerky movement.

  “I’ve heard stories. We’ve all heard things.” She made air quotes with her fingers.

  My sister had been holding out on me. “What didn’t you share with me, Isabella?”

  “My formal name. Is someone feeling duped?”

  “I swear to Christ, Izzy. Why didn’t you warn me? I mean, I would’ve told you if you were going to date some crazy cocksucker.”

  “I tried to warn you, but you reminded me that you’re a big boy.”

  If she used air quotes one more time during this conversation I was going to put her in a headlock and mess up her hair until she screamed uncle.

  “You told me to mind my own business. So…I thought I’d let you learn the hard way, big brother.” She couldn’t stop laughing.

  I sighed. “Next time slap me, will you?”

  “Gladly.” Her fingers tangled in my hair, ruffling it just the right way to make me cringe. “So tell me what happened, and why is your phone going crazy without you bothering to look?”

  “I don’t even know where to start. I ended shit with Tammy and she’s been blowing it up for twelve hours.”

  “Why did you end it? Wait, were you guys really a thing?” She leaned over the desk and rested her chin in her hand.

  “We weren’t anything but fuck buddies, or at least that’s what I thought. She, on the other hand, had our future planned out. She made a scrapbook, Izzy. A fucking scrapbook.” I slammed my fist down on the desk and started to laugh. “Shit would be funny if it happened to someone else, but she’s crazy.”

  “A scrapbook of what?” Her eyebrows drew together.

  “The cover was a wedding photo with our faces glued on the bride and groom. I flipped through the book. It was our entire life planned out and in living color. That shit just isn’t normal, Izzy.”

  She doubled over in laughter, smashing her fist against the desk. “No, wait.” She couldn’t catch her breath as tears began to stream down her cheeks. “Did you at least take the scrapbook with you? I mean, I need to see this shit.”

  “Fuck. I was so pissed I didn’t even think about grabbing it.” I rubbed my forehead, annoyed with myself for being such a dumbass. “She hasn’t stopped calling and texting me since last night.”

  Hunched over, gasping for breath, she held her hand out. “Give it to me.”

  “What?”

  “Gimme your phone, stunad.”

  She tapped a few buttons, the tip of her tongue sticking out.

  “What are you doing? Please don’t respond to her, Iz.”

  She gave me a sour look before turning her attention back to her task.

  I sighed, leaning back in my chair, and waited.

  “Here,” she said, placing it in front of me.

  “What did you do?”

  “You really need to learn more about your phone, Michael. I blocked her.” She rolled her eyes.

  “You can really do that shit?” I was stunned; I didn’t know it could be so easy.

  I would’ve done it hours ago to avoid the barrage of bullshit.

  Izzy just shook her head as she walked away.

  Joe and Anthony walked in laughing. They said the usual “hey” when walking past me to put their stuff down and prep their areas for customers.

  I checked over the schedule while I waited for everyone to finish. Anthony sat first and began to tap out a beat against the plastic chair. Leaning back, he put his head against the wall, and closed his eyes, looking lost in the rhythm.

  By the time Izzy and Joe made their way to the front of the shop, I wanted to rip Anthony’s fingers off and shove them down his throat.

  Izzy sat down next to Anthony, resting her head on his shoulder.

  “Anything new since yesterday, Mike?” Joe asked, leaning against the desk. He cracked his neck with a quick push to his chin.

  Izzy laughed as she whispered in Anthony’s ear. They looked at me and smiled.

  “Totally booked. No room for walk-ins unless anyone wants to work extra.”

  No one met my eyes.

  “Didn’t think so.” I tapped the pen against the schedule and tried to avoid the looks from the two assholes against the wall.

  Joe turned toward them. “What are you two giggling about over there?”

  I waved my hands in the air and shook my head. I hoped Izzy would take pity on me. I knew the bullshit that was about to take place if she didn’t.

  “Talking about the nuptials between Tammy and Mike.”

  Fucking little sisters and their big mouths.

  Joe’s head turned quickly in my direction. “What the fuck are they talking about?”

  “They’re being jackasses.”

  “You didn’t elope or anything stupid like that did you?” Joe asked.

  “Fuck no! Give me an ounce of credit, will you
please?”

  We spent the next ten minutes laughing about Tammy and all the problems our dicks had caused through the years. It’s strictly a male issue.

  I had to own that shit.

  When my first customer arrived five minutes early, I wanted to kiss her feet for saving me from my siblings’ harassment.

  4

  Mia

  I groaned, burying my face in the pillow and wanting to avoid facing the world. My body felt heavy and I didn’t want to get out of bed, but the only thing that could help was working out. Even after a full night’s sleep, I couldn’t shake my sadness from work last night, and I figured, why the hell not? It was worth a shot.

  The only thing that usually helped my mood was a good, ass-kicking workout at the gym.

  Then I walked in the gym and the man knocked me on my ass. The impact scared the hell out of me as I fell on my ass, dropping my purse and spilling the contents everywhere.

  He was the object of my anger. It wasn’t from being knocked down; looking back, I was more mortified by it than pissed. I felt helpless over the lost lives that had piled up during my shift. The night before had been one of the lowest in my short career, but when I looked up into his rich caramel eyes, something inside me shifted.

  My brain must have been rattled by the force of my fall.

  I’d seen him before. I knew it.

  I lost my breath as I stared into his eyes. I’d never had a reaction to someone like I had with him. Something unspoken passed between us as we looked into each other’s eyes.

  It took everything in me to not react when he helped me off the ground. The moment our skin connected, electricity passed between us. There was a snap, crackle, pop.

  I couldn’t get him out of my damn mind as I started to run on the treadmill. As my thighs burned and sweat trickled down my chest, I thought about only him.

  How did I know him?

  Tall with broad shoulders, muscular, tattooed-covered arms, and completely not my taste.

  The track pants he wore hid his legs, but there was no doubt in my mind that they were as solid and powerful as his upper half.

  When our bodies were inches apart in the doorway, my heart pounded in my chest—if he were any closer, he would’ve heard the frantic rhythm.