[Men of Inked 01.0 - 03.0] Volume 1

by Chelle Bliss

  ***

  Walking down the halls of the hospital, I kept my guard up, expecting psycho Tammy to pop out of nowhere. I was sure she was stalking the halls looking for me.

  Walking into Joe’s room, I said, “I’ve arrived.”

  Izzy looked at me and rolled her eyes. “About time, you ass.”

  “Love you too, sis.” I blew her a kiss and smiled. “Thank God for a private room.” I laughed as I looked at them all.

  Poor Joe. They were here staring at him all day.

  “Joe, how ya feelin,’ man?” I approached his bed and kissed him on the cheek.

  He puffed out a breath, adjusting his body. “Bored to death and ready to get the hell out of here.”

  “I can only imagine, but I think you’re going to be here a while. Sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You have shit to do. When’s the fight?”

  Sitting on the edge of his bed, I replied, “Couple weeks.”

  “I want a front-row seat. I’m so pumped for you. Going to win this one?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Hell yeah. I got this shit in the bag if I stay on track. Have you ever seen me lose a fight?”

  He shook his head. “Never, and you never answered about the front row.”

  “I have tickets for everyone. I grabbed a couple extra too.” I bent my knee, putting it on the bed.

  The room was filled with chatter. Izzy and Suzy were talking about clothes or some girl shit. My parents talked to Anthony in a whispered tone that I couldn’t make out. I never knew my family could talk this quietly.

  There was a brief lull in the conversations around us as Joe said, “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  I hung my head and rubbed my eyes with my thumb and index finger. Fuck, bring on the Gallo Inquisition.

  “What’s he talking about?” Izzy asked behind me. Naturally she’d be the one person to pipe up after hearing that statement.

  Turning around, I looked her straight in the eye and showed no fear. “Male shit, Iz. Don’t concern yourself with it.”

  Her eyes became slits as she glared at me. Izzy knew me as well as anyone sitting in this room, and I prayed she knew when to drop the subject. “Always playing the penis card. Such bullshit.”

  “Isabella,” my ma chimed in. “Did I raise you to speak that way?”

  “I’m a grown woman, Ma, and yes you did. You had four boys and a girl. How else would I talk?”

  My ma and Izzy broke into a fit of laughter.

  I looked at Joe and I mouthed “later” to him.

  He tipped his chin, not making any other movements. He knew as well as I did how nosy this group was, and I needed to deal with Tammy on the down-low.

  “Why don’t we all go to the cafeteria and let the boys have their talk?” My ma always tried to be diplomatic.

  “Great idea, my legs could use a stretch,” Pop said. “Come on, baby girl.” Standing, my pop held his hand out to Izzy.

  She sighed and put her fingers in his palm. “For you, Dad, anything you ask.” She had him wrapped around her little finger.

  They worked each other well and knew how to get their way. Izzy gave in on the small things because she knew my pop would always have her back; she’d always be his little girl.

  “I’m going to stay here,” Anthony said as he looked at my parents. “I’m playing my penis card.” He smirked at Izzy.

  I swear to shit I could see a vein pop out of her forehead.

  “We’ll be back in ten minutes,” Pop said, yanking Izzy out by the arm.

  We sat in silence as we waited for them to walk far enough away that we wouldn’t be overhead. Anthony poked his head out of the doorway. “All clear,” he said.

  “What the fuck is up, man?” Joe asked.

  “Tammy has gone off the rails.” I shook my head, still not believing her bullshit.

  His eyebrows scrunched as he looked at me. “Tammy?”

  “Scrapbook crazy girl? Did you hit your head harder than we thought?”

  He laughed and grabbed his side. “Fuck, I remember her now. I’ve had other things on my mind than your women.”

  “She isn’t one of my women. She saw me in the cafeteria here and she claimed we were engaged, dude.”

  “No fucking way.” His mouth hung open as he looked at me.

  “Yes, I told her to leave me the hell alone and she said how could I just leave her since we were engaged. When I denied her and I went to walk away…” I didn’t want to finish the sentence. The mere thought of her words made my stomach churn. “She yelled out that she was pregnant.”

  His body stilled as his eyebrows drew together. “With whose kid?” Joe asked.

  “Mine, dumbass.” I shrugged.

  “Is that even possible?” Joe asked, trying to sit up.

  “Fuck no. I don’t think so. I mean, I’m not a doctor, but if I remember my human bio class, there’s zero chance.”

  “Were you careful?” Joe asked, as he rubbed his forehead.

  Anthony just sat there, shaking his head as he played on his phone.

  “Yes, and we only did it a couple of times. She couldn’t possibly know if she was. Could she?”

  “Shit, I don’t know, but you need to find out, Mike.”

  I rested my head in my hand, running my finger through my hair. I had to find the craziest bitch in the county and stick my dick in her.

  “I got to work this shit out and shut her ass down.” God was getting the last laugh.

  “I’d say you better do something before that shit blows up in your face.” Joe pointed at me and shook his head. “Fight crazy by facing her head-on and putting her down.”

  “I’ll figure it out. You have your own shit to deal with.” I motioned to his fucked-up leg.

  “Eh, a mere flesh wound,” Joe said with a straight face.

  We all started to laugh as we got the reference to Monty Python. The best movie scene ever made. When the guy loses limbs but still states it’s just a mere flesh wound, until he’s jumping on one leg without arms and spewing blood everywhere…epic. I think we drove my mother crazy for months re-enacting it as kids.

  “You need my help, Mike?” Anthony asked.

  “Nah, it’s my mess to deal with, Anth. I just don’t want it ruining whatever Mia and I have going on.”

  “Who’s Mia?” Joe asked.

  “Girl I met at the gym. She’s a doctor here and we’ve been spending time together.” I rubbed my eyes and raked my hands through my hair. “I really like her and don’t want Tammy fucking it up.”

  “A doctor? I’m impressed, Mike. Wait, why was Tammy here?”

  “She works here too. I’m so screwed if she runs into Mia.”

  Anthony looked up from his phone. “Oh, fuck. You better get it handled quickly before the shit hits the fan.”

  “Just once I’d like my dick not to cause problems,” I said, looking up at the ceiling.

  “Keep sticking that shit in any pussy around town and your problems will never go away.”

  “Just because you found Suzy doesn’t mean you’re the authority on relationships, Joe.”

  “No, but I knew when I found something so damn good that I’d do anything in the world to make her mine.”

  “Pussy whipped,” Anthony muttered under his breath before laughing.

  I had to get control of the situation.

  Why did her ass have to go off the hook as Mia came into my life?

  18

  Mia

  Michael hadn’t seemed himself all week, distant and preoccupied. I asked him repeatedly to share whatever bothered him, but he said no and I stopped trying to pry. Sometimes, there are things I don’t feel like sharing as I deal with the situation. I gave him his space and hoped he’d tell me in his own time.

  My week had been busy, almost to the point of hectic. I worked at the hospital and the clinic every day. Michael trained, spent time with his family at the hospital, and kept the tattoo shop runni
ng.

  His life was just as full as mine. We had to be creative when it came to seeing each other while his brother was at County. I met him early one morning to watch him train with Rob. There was a small ring that had been set up in the gym just for Michael and Rob to practice.

  I was tempted to jump in the ring and take out some of my stress on the target or Rob, but I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself. I used the time to run on the treadmill as I watched Mike kick Rob’s ass. It brought a smile to my face.

  Saturday night, Michael brought the DVD of his fight in New York to my house. He fought Victor “The Mauler” Torrez.

  Sliding the disc into the DVD player, he explained that the match wouldn’t be fought in a boxing ring and that he didn’t box. I was clueless to MMA rules. To me it was just a fancy name given to a sport where two men beat the shit out of each other.

  As soon as the match started to play, I knew I was right with my first assumption about what he called a sport—it was barbaric.

  There was something about watching Michael that had me shifting in my seat and made me feel flushed.

  Fuck, he looked sexy and powerful as he jostled from leg to leg on the video.

  “Look at this next hit,” he said, sitting next to me on the couch, punching the air.

  His foot swept the other man’s legs out from underneath him. Michael struck him in the face. Sweat and blood flew through the air as he connected with his jaw. High-definition television showed a little too much detail for me.

  “That’s called a ground-and-pound move.” Staring at the television, he was transfixed, with a smile on his face.

  “Did you win?” I asked, covering my eyes to avoid seeing the man struggle.

  He turned to me with a look of shock on his face. “You’ll have to watch to find out, but what do you think?” He said, laughing.

  “You won or you wouldn’t be showing this to me,” I said with a smile before turning back to the television.

  Although I knew the outcome, it made my stomach hurt to watch the footage. My heart beat in my throat as I sat on the edge of the couch, watching the recording through my fingers.

  Michael squeezed my knee, patting it gently. “I can’t wait to get back in the cage.”

  “How long did you say until the next match?” I looked at his face.

  “Just a couple of weeks. I’ll be cutting way back on my schedule at the shop for final preparations.”

  “Where is it?” I asked, praying it was far away.

  How would I feel seeing him fighting with another man in the flesh instead of on a recording? The roar of the crowd with each blow was shocking, and in person had to be almost deafening.

  “Right here in Tampa. I wanted in because it’s close to home. You’re gonna come, right?”

  “Um, yeah, I guess I’ll be there.” I turned my attention back to the television as his fist made contact with the opponent’s jaw again. His head flew back and I could see the satisfaction on Michael’s face. “What made you travel to New York for this fight?”

  “I want you there, Mia,” he said, ignoring my question. “You have to watch at least one in person. That was a huge fight. It was on pay-per-view and helped get my name out there. I want to make a name for myself in this industry.”

  “Why would you do this when you’re a successful business owner?” I looked at him, totally confused by the man I knew and the one I saw on the screen. The fighter scared the hell out of me, but the man to my side made me feel safe and comfortable. I thought of him as a softy, although I’d never tell him that.

  “I do MMA for the thrill and the challenge. I’d give up working in the tattoo shop to fight full-time. Wait, here’s the end, you have to watch.” Touching my chin, he pushed my eyes back toward the television.

  Michael had “The Mauler” on the ground in a chokehold. Their legs were twisted together, their bodies entwined as he squeezed the man’s neck, cutting off his airway. I couldn’t look away no matter how much I wanted to—I was transfixed—and then they released each other.

  “What just happened?” I asked, confused why it ended suddenly.

  “I won. The ref ended it because the guy was losing consciousness. Stupid rule, but…” He shrugged with a tiny grin.

  “Oh,” I said as I turned my attention back to the screen. His chest heaved from exertion; his eyes looked fierce, as tiny droplets of sweat slid down his body. Maybe high-def was a good thing after all.

  “I could watch this recording a million times,” he said, switching off the television, turning toward me.

  “You probably have,” I said, smirking.

  “Smartass woman.” He started to tickle me on my ribs.

  I squirmed, trying to break free. “Stop!” I yelped as he pushed me back into the couch.

  His fingers moved across my ribs as I tried to find my breath. “I have to teach you a lesson.” The weight of his body made it harder to breathe.

  I laughed and tried to pry his hands from my side. “Michael, stop. I can’t breathe,” I huffed out through the laugher, pushing at his fingers.

  His hands stilled as he hovered over my body, face to face. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you have a smile on your face.” His eyes roamed my face as his erection pushed against my leg.

  He was hard as a rock.

  “Is it me or did the fight turn you on?” I asked.

  I would never admit it, but my body ached for him. God, I was such a hypocrite.

  “Your laughter did this to me, not the fight.”

  “I highly—”

  He covered my mouth with his hand and placed a kiss on my neck. “No more talking for you.”

  I giggled behind his hand and my tongue darted out to taste him. “I thought you loved my voice,” I mumbled behind his fingers.

  “Shh,” he whispered, running his nose down my cheek before he licked a path down my neck. The warmth of his tongue sent tiny sparks straight to my core.

  My fingers dug into his back as I held him to me, enjoying the feel of his tongue. I wanted more. I craved him.

  When his lips met my collarbone, my body flinched as my sex convulsed. I could feel the wetness between my legs. My body was a traitor, but at this point, relieving the throb was all that mattered.

  My head fell to the side and I opened my eyes. The clock read six—I would be late to work. I pushed Michael off in a panic.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning.

  “I’m going to be late to work. You have to go and I have to get ready.” I jumped from the couch, pulling down my shirt.

  “Your fucking job is getting in the way,” he said, sitting up.

  I hushed him with my finger. “We both have a lot of shit to do. I’ll be off tomorrow if you can find the time to squeeze me into your busy schedule.”

  He smiled behind my finger. “I’ll make the time. I’ll do everything early so I can spend time with you.”

  “Michael, I’d say you’re smitten if I didn’t know you any better. Are you always this easy?”

  “Smitten doesn’t even begin to explain what I am at the moment, doc.” He grabbed my hand and placed it on his cock. “Rock hard is more like it. You’re always leaving me fucking hanging.”

  I chuckled as I stared into his eyes.

  The man probably never had to wait for sex. Woman probably hung on him and begged for it.

  “If you can’t get it to subside, you know where to find me and my needle, handsome.” I kissed his lips before moving out of reach, trying to avoid being pulled down on top of him.

  “I’ve always had a fantasy of doing it in a storage closet where we could get caught.” He smiled as he adjusted himself in his pants before standing.

  Crossing my arms, I stared at him and shook my head. “I could be fired for that, Michael.”

  “Not if we’re quick and quiet. It’s the thrill of getting caught that makes it so fucking great.” He winked as he looked down at me.

  I swallowed hard, my mouth
feeling dry suddenly. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “You’ll see,” he said as he brushed his finger across my lip.

  I sighed. The man liked to live life on the edge, and so did I. I fully expected a visit to the hospital in the coming days.

  “Okay. Now scoot. I have to get ready. People’s lives depend on me.” I pushed him toward the door.

  He pouted and grabbed his chest, pretending to be wounded. “I’ll show myself out.”

  He pulled me into a kiss. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders as he held my head in his hand. The velvety texture of his tongue and the hint of mint left me wanting more.

  I moaned, my lips following his mouth as he pulled away.

  “A little something to remember me.” He released me and made his way to the door.

  “Hey, what’s your MMA nickname?” I called out to him.

  “Why do ya ask?” he asked with one hand on the doorknob.

  “Curiosity.”

  “Michael ‘The Iceman’ Gallo.” He smiled and left.

  I stood there and tried to think of him as “The Iceman,” but he should be called the “The Raging Inferno.”

  19

  Michael

  Walking through the hospital, I looked over my shoulder, paranoid that I’d run into Tammy. I still hadn’t done a damn thing to deal with her the last week.

  I’d been too fucking busy with the shop, family shit, and Mia.

  With a smile, I pushed open the door to Joe’s room, and found it empty. The bed was neatly made and everything was back in its rightful place, but no Joe. My smile evaporated.

  “Can I help you?” a nurse asked behind me.

  Walking out of the room, I approached her. “That’s my brother’s room. I was coming to visit.”

  “Ah, they released him a couple hours ago. He went home, darlin’.” She smiled.

  “Thanks, ma’am,” I said before walking away.

  Pulling out my phone to text my ma, I headed to the elevators.

  Me: Mom, why didn’t anyone bother to tell me they released Joe?

  I loved that my ma had finally decided to join this century and learn how to text. It was easier to keep the conversations shorter, because she always found something else to say when we actually spoke. If I ignored her texts, she’d call anyway, but for the most part it was the best way to communicate with her—at least for me.