[Men of Inked 01.0 - 03.0] Boxed Set

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[Men of Inked 01.0 - 03.0] Boxed Set Page 65

by Chelle Bliss


  Where the hell would I have gone? There wasn’t even a window in this craptasic bathroom. “I’m almost done,” I sang, hovering over the toilet.

  I heard his footsteps as he walked away, giving me privacy. It had never felt so good to go to the bathroom. Shivers racked my body from having held it so long. Afterward, I threw on my clothes and washed my face. What I wouldn’t have done for some makeup and a toothbrush. The motel had been kind enough to supply not only soap, but also a small bottle of mouthwash. I cracked open the top, taking a mouthful and swishing it around. Using my finger, I scrubbed my gums and teeth before spitting it out. I wasn’t high maintenance, but this was a little beyond my comfort zone.

  As I opened the door, my eyes took in James—fully naked and leaning against the wall.

  “Have you no shame, man?” I asked as my eyes traveled up his body and stopped on his face.

  My face felt flushed and my belly dropped. I wanted to jump on him, wrap my legs around his hard body, and rub my pussy against him. I hated him. His devilish grin, his sparkling eyes, and his beautiful face pissed me off. The man played games and played them well.

  “What’s to be ashamed of? I saw you staring last night. I thought I’d give you one last look before I got dressed.”

  “You’re obviously delusional.” I glared at him and started to walk past him.

  He grabbed my wrist, pulling me back. “Stay right here.”

  “Why?” I asked, looking down at his grip on me.

  “I don’t trust you not to bolt. You stay right outside this door or I can handcuff you again. I prefer the second option, but I leave it entirely in your hands.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. Just do what you need to do so I can get the hell away from you.” I tore my wrist from his hand and sneered.

  “You’re never getting away from me, Izzy. Right here.” He pointed to the spot outside the bathroom, close enough that he could keep his eye on me while he was inside.

  I saluted him, feeling the need to be a smartass, as he stalked into the bathroom and left the door ajar. “Where’s my phone?” I asked. It wasn’t in my pants pocket where I’d left it.

  “Nightstand.”

  “Can I grab it, master?” I asked.

  I heard him suck in a breath, pausing a moment before answering. “You don’t know what those words do to me, and yes, you may.”

  I rolled my eyes just for the sheer satisfaction, because there was no one else to see me do it, and walked toward the nightstand. As I grabbed my phone, something on the floor caught my eye. Sticking out from under the bed skirt was my black lace G-string. Unable to help myself, I picked it up and stuffed it in his bag next to the door.

  “Where are you?” he yelled from the bathroom.

  “I’m coming!” I yelled back as I headed toward my assigned spot.

  Jesus, the man was a control freak.

  “Mmm, I like the sound of that,” he said as he walked out of with a smile.

  “Get dressed already.” I sat on the bed, crossing my legs, and enjoyed the increased pressure on my core. Why couldn’t he have dressed while I’d been in the bathroom? “Or I’ll leave without you.” I wouldn’t, but he didn’t need to know. I didn’t even know where the fuck we were to have someone to pick me up.

  “Keep your panties on. I’ll be ready in two seconds.” He grabbed his clothes, pulling on his jeans first, tucking his dick inside, and then zipping them. His t-shirt he slowly pulled over his head, thinking he was torturing me.

  I didn’t stare at him, but I watched him out of the corner of my eye as I pretended to check my phone. The only messages I’d received overnight were from Flash. He seemed to be in a panic.

  “Who ya texting?” James asked as he looked over my shoulder, catching me off guard.

  “Flash is worried.”

  “Fuck Flash. Put that phone down.” He grabbed my hand, plucking the phone from my grip.

  “He’s my friend,” I said, glaring at him.

  “He sold you out and left you at the hands of the MC. That’s no friend I ever want.”

  “You don’t know him.”

  “I know enough about him. Do not respond to him. If you never listen to me again, Izzy, please do on this one thing.” He ran his fingers through his hair, taming the strands that had wandered when he had put on his shirt.

  “I know he’s a pussy. Trust me. I’m pissed the fuck off at him, but I want to tell him that I’m fine.”

  “You wait to do that shit when I have you on the other coast and in the protection of your family.”

  “You worry too much,” I argued, grabbing the phone and pushing it in my back pocket.

  “You don’t worry enough.” He lifted his bag, touching the small of my back as he opened the door. “Let’s go.”

  I squinted when the bright Florida sun hit my face as we walked out of the dark motel room. I hooded my eyes and looked around. We were in the middle of nowhere and far from home.

  “This is going to be a long-ass ride.”

  “You make it sound like a bad thing,” he said as he walked to his bike, grabbed the helmet, and held it out to me.

  I approached, ripping it from his grasp. “Three hours on the back of your bike doesn’t sound like a joyride.”

  “You say the word and I’ll pull over and give you something to smile about,” he murmured as he touched my cheek.

  With my free hand, I batted his away from my face and put the helmet on, cinching the straps tight. “In your dreams,” I huffed out, standing next to the sleek Harley V-Rod Muscle bike. I’d spent enough time around boys with their toys to know my Harleys. It wasn’t traditional, but it matched his personality perfectly—strong, sexy, and loud.

  “It’ll be my reality. Just you wait, beautiful.” He climbed on, twisting his body before patting the back seat.

  I stared at the sky, closing my eyes and making a silent plea to put distance between us. Why had I fucked his brains out the night we met?

  Holding his shoulder, I adjusted myself. Wrapping my arms around his torso, I smashed my tits against his back and smiled. I’d make the ride just as uncomfortable for him as he always made me. I’d invented games.

  7

  Unforgettable

  James

  The girl had game and mad fucking skills. I’d never met a female who was as full of shit as I was. Izzy was everything I’d ever wanted in a woman—fierce, strong, driven, and full of attitude.

  Riding with her on the back of my bike for over three hours should’ve been boring and tedious. I was finding out that nothing we did together could be described with those words.

  She’d taken every chance to brush against my dick when we were stopped at a light. Running her hand down my thigh, all in the name of stretching her back. She hadn’t just held me to stay on the bike. She’d felt me up and I fucking knew it.

  As I pulled into her drive, I could feel my semi-hard dick I’d been sporting for the last twenty miles start to stiffen. It wouldn’t happen today. I had shit to do, including a long ride back to Daytona.

  I parked the bike, securing it in place before turning off the engine. Izzy pushed off using my shoulder and plucked the helmet from her head. Leaning over, she shook out her hair, flipping it like a wet dream. She was a fucking tease.

  “Thanks for the ride.” She smirked, holding out the helmet.

  “Can I use the bathroom before I head back?” I asked. I figured I could have a little more fun with her before I walked out of her life for a short time. I knew I’d be back. No one could keep me away from Izzy Gallo.

  She rubbed her face and stared at the ground. “If you must,” she mumbled, bringing her eyes to meet mine.

  In the sunlight, her eyes matched the color of the Gulf on a sunny day. Turquoise with hints of sky blue. They were lush and big for her face. I didn’t speak as I hopped off the bike and stretched.

  She walked away, heading for the door, and I followed behind, admiring her ass. Looking over her should
er, she glared at me before stopping in front of her door and unlocking it.

  The house sat on a canal, the Gulf of Mexico not far away from the multistory dwelling. The façade was white with muted orange trim, and it stood three stories tall. Following her inside, I took in the beauty of the living room. It was like Izzy—loud and unforgiving and alive with vibrant color. Large windows lined the back of the house as the sun cascaded through the room and shone on the dark wooden floors.

  “Restroom?” I asked, looking around, taking in the layout of her home.

  “Over there,” she replied, motioning to the left with her head.

  I walked away, finding a hallway where she had pointed. I stopped when I passed an open door that held a bedroom. I didn’t think it was hers. It was all white and too plain for her tastes. I continued to the next room and found the Holy Grail.

  This was Izzy’s bedroom. The walls were painted a deep red with black trim. Black curtains hung from the floor-to-ceiling windows. Along the opposite wall was a king-sized bed with black satin bedding. It wasn’t feminine, but totally her.

  “Find it?” Her voice carried down the hallway, forcing me back into the hall.

  “Yeah!” I yelled, and moved toward the last door on the right.

  After I was done, I didn’t bother looking around before I headed back to find Izzy. She was standing in the kitchen, moving with ease, a coffee pot in hand.

  “Want a cup before you head out?”

  Look at Betty fuckin’ Crocker. “Sure,” I said, my voice uncertain.

  “It’s the least I can do. I need you to make it back to my brother safely.”

  “Well, I’m kind of hungry too.” I smiled, taking a seat at her breakfast bar.

  “I don’t cook, and you’re pushing it.”

  “I’ll grab something at the gas station down the street,” I responded, propping my chin on my hand and staring at her.

  She blanched. “I have some leftovers from my mom’s place.” She opened the fridge and bent over to look through the contents.

  It was a perfect ass shot. I grinned, watching her move.

  “How about some pasta?” she asked with her head still stuck inside.

  “Perfect.” I leaned back, looking away before she turned around. I wouldn’t fuck with pasta from Mrs. Gallo. Thomas always raved about it.

  She pulled off the plastic wrap and splashed a bit of water on the plate before sticking it in the microwave. “Is my brother really okay, James?” she asked with her back to me.

  I sighed, wishing I could fuck with her mind, but I wanted to put her at ease. “He’s doing okay, Izzy. He’s smart and tough. He’s made it deeper than any other agent.” I tapped my foot on the floor, feeling uncomfortable while trying to shovel a load of bullshit at her.

  No one in the life was safe. It could all end without notice, in the blink of an eye.

  “That doesn’t sound so promising.” The microwave beeped, and she grabbed the plate from inside. “Will he be done soon?” she asked as she placed the pasta in front of me.

  “Hopefully. We’re trying to get him out ASAP, but you know your brother. He wants more. He’s never content.”

  She grabbed a fork from the dish strainer and held it out to me. “That’s how all the Gallos are. We always want more.” She smiled.

  “I’m counting on it, doll.” I snatched the fork from her hands before she could throw it at me. I knew she hated it, but I wanted to change the subject from Thomas to something that made me happy.

  “Just eat and shut up.” She took the dishrag from the sink and wiped down the counters.

  Shoving the first forkful in my mouth was sheer happiness. Even a couple of days old and dry, the taste exploded in my mouth. I hadn’t had homemade sauce this damn good since my grandmother passed years ago.

  “Mmm,” I mumbled, taking another forkful. “I never pictured the domestic side of you.” I laughed, placing the noodles on my tongue.

  “Someone has to clean. I do it all myself, except cook. That is my weakness. Never had the patience for that shit.”

  Swallowing my food, I offered, “I could teach you.”

  Her hand stilled as she looked at me with big eyes. “You cook?”

  “I’ve been known to, yes. I’d love to get your mom’s recipe for this sauce.”

  She shook her head and stared. “That is for Gallo family members only. It’s a closely guarded secret. So, what do you cook?” She leaned over the counter and gawked at me as I attacked the pasta.

  “Anything you want. I had to learn to cook, being single. I couldn’t maintain this body and eat shit food all the time.”

  “Interesting,” she mumbled, watching me shove the fork in my mouth. “Never took you as a Paula Deen.”

  I laughed, almost choking on my food. “I think of myself as a better-looking version of Emeril.”

  “His food is so damn good. I’ll never believe you can cook like that.”

  “Someday you’ll find out.” I wiped my face after I inhaled the pasta.

  She pulled my plate from the counter, setting it in the sink. “I won’t, but I’ll take you at your word.”

  I smiled but didn’t respond to her remark. She turned me down at every opportunity, but I was fine with the chase. Fuck, I loved a good game of cat and mouse. It was one of the reasons I’d joined law enforcement.

  “It’s quite a place you have here,” I said, swiveling around on my stool.

  “Want to see the upstairs? It’s my favorite part of the house.”

  “Sure. And I’d love that cup of coffee.”

  “You can bring it up with you,” she said as she grabbed two cups. “Black?”

  “Yes, please.”

  She filled the cup, adding sugar to hers before turning around with her hands full. “Here,” she said, placing it in front of me. “Let’s go.”

  Once I took my cup, I followed her closely up the stairs I hadn’t noticed before. I had been lost in my thoughts of her and all the dirty things I wanted to do to her.

  “This is why I bought the place,” she said when we reached the top.

  As I made my way behind her, the stunning landscape came into view. She had a view of the Gulf of Mexico in the distance. The sun shimmering across the water made it look like a sheet of glass covered in glitter.

  “Stunning,” I muttered, sipping the coffee.

  “Come outside on the deck and have your coffee before you go.” She pulled open the sliding glass doors.

  “I’m not used to the nice-girl act,” I said as I followed her.

  “I’m not always a twat.” She laughed, sitting down on the swing, facing away from me. “Close the door, please.”

  “I’d never call you a twat, Izzy. You have such a mouth.”

  “You love my mouth, from what I remember, James.”

  “I so fucking do.” I sighed as I closed the door and made my way toward her. As I sat, I said, “This is a little slice of heaven.”

  “It’s my serenity. When shit gets bad or my life feels overwhelming, this is where I come to center myself.”

  Listening to her talk while we sat together, I felt like I was seeing the real Izzy for the first time. She had her guard down and was speaking to me differently. There was no sarcasm in her voice, no smartass comment—just Izzy. I liked this side of her, but the other one made me wild and drove me crazy.

  A comfortable silence settled between us as we sipped our coffee and gently rocked back and forth. The last thing I wanted to do was get back on my bike and leave her, but I had to. Duty called. If I didn’t go back and something happened to her brother, I’d never be able to make her mine. All hope for the future would be killed.

  “I better go,” I said. “Thank you for the perfect ending to the last twenty-four hours.” I didn’t look at her as I spoke. I stared off into the distance, taking in the beauty of the Gulf and longing for this life.

  I loved my job, but some nights, I wished for someone to be mine, someone to spend m
y life with. I didn’t want to lead a senior-citizen lifestyle. I wanted a partner, someone I could spar with and make love to at the drop of a dime. Izzy was what I wanted; she just hadn’t accepted her fate. She couldn’t resist me for long.

  “This has been nice. The rest, not so much. I could’ve done without the cuffs, James.” She turned to me and smiled.

  I laughed. “You’ll learn to love them.” I winked at her, and her cheeks grew flushed.

  “In your fucking dreams,” she shot back, rolling her eyes.

  I reached up, stroking her cheeks, and leaned into her space. “I know many uses for handcuffs besides arrest. Imagine your body at my mercy. I could feast on your flesh for hours, Isabella,” I murmured against her lips.

  She blinked slowly and stared into my eyes. “You say such pretty shit, but I’ll pass on the offer.”

  Running my hand to the back of her neck, I gripped her roughly, holding her in place. “I could have you right now if I wanted. Don’t kid yourself. I don’t buy your bullshit. You want me as much as I want you. You haven’t forgotten how good my cock feels inside you.”

  Her eyes flashed and her tongue darted out, swiping against my top lip. “You’ll never—“

  I captured her words in my mouth, crushing my lips to hers to quiet her. The smart-mouthed woman I fucking craved was back, and I couldn’t control myself. I didn’t want to listen to her lies. I knew I’d have her again.

  As my tongue slid across hers, mingling her taste with mine, the sweetness of the sugar from her coffee made my mouth water. She tasted so fucking good. I’d leave her with a reminder of what I felt like and how I tasted.

  The tiny hairs on the back of her neck rose, brushing against my fingers as we kissed. She panted into my mouth, kissing me back with her hand resting on my forearm. Her body spoke the words she was too afraid to say.

  I backed away, breaking the kiss, and stared at her face. We were both breathless and didn’t release our grip on each other.

  “What were you going to say?” I asked, trying to calm my breathing.

 

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