A Broken Vow: Inked Angels MC

by Zoey Parker

  There we were, reflected, crystal clear. The leather lingerie clung delicately to her, but the tiniest of tugs would have left her naked on top of me and quivering with desire.

  “Look at that,” I gestured to the red hand print outlined on her ass. “The first of many,” I continued. “I want to spank you raw tonight.”

  “You are out of your mind, Blaze,” she said. I grinned. If only she knew.

  A trembling voice piped up from the far corner of the room. “Are you, um, finding everything okay, sir and ma’am?” the salesman asked nervously. “Can I help you with anything else?”

  I thrust my head over Olivia’s shoulder and gave him the maniac grin that had sent him skittering away the first time.

  “We’ll take what she’s wearing,” I told him. “And then we’ll be on our way. Lots of things to do.”

  In the mirror, the hand print gleamed.

  * * *

  Back on the motorcycle, Olivia’s hands were wrapped around my waist. I didn’t even think she noticed the way she was feeling my abs tense against the bounce of the road, or how her fingertips played absentmindedly on my thighs.

  I noticed, though.

  “Where are we going?” she asked into my ear against the loud wind that screeched past us.

  “You’ll see,” I called back over my shoulder.

  A few minutes later, we pulled up to a secluded bed and breakfast on the outskirts of town. The dusk was purple in the flat distance. I took off my jacket and stretched out the kinks in my muscles. Olivia eyed me curiously while I moved, tracking my every motion. Wondering what I was thinking, most likely. Oh well, let her keep guessing.

  I couldn’t show her, but I was all fucked in the head. She’d look so damn fuckable in that lingerie back in the store. My dick was still sore from how bad I’d wanted to bend her over in that changing room and make her watch herself moan in the mirror while I drove into her from behind.

  More accurately, it was sore from not getting the chance to do that.

  Of course I wanted to fuck her. What red-blooded man wouldn’t? The way her body rolled from tits to that skinny little waist that was just crying out for my hands to grip it, that ass that even now probably still had a little bit of the shine left over from that tasty spanking I’d laid on her. Mmm. Too much to ignore.

  If she’d been any other slut, this would have been a no-brainer. I wouldn’t have had a single issue just emptying my balls into her a few times, then tossing my jacket on and strolling out the door. Game over.

  But this wasn’t any other slut. This was Olivia. This was the girl who’d blossomed next door to me, the one I’d taken a bullet in the leg for, the only chick to whom I’d ever given a second thought. She stirred up these crazy thoughts in my head like no one else I’d ever come across.

  This shit was insane. I was Blaze, not some love-struck goon.

  But this was Olivia, not some slut.

  Our names had been swirling back and forth in my head like that throughout the whole ride, and by the time we’d dismounted, I was dazed. This was all new territory, and it was confusing the living hell outta me. I needed to get the hell away from her.

  “Tell me where we are,” Olivia demanded as we walked towards the front door. I spun around to face her.

  “This is where we’re staying tonight,” I said. “Is it good enough for Your Highness?”

  She scowled back. Damn, I loved that sexy pout. Those lips could be put to such good work. “I’m not fucking you, you know,” she informed me.

  “Is that so?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact, it is,” she retorted. “I don’t give a flying fuck what I said up on the altar. I don’t give a fuck what I’ve told you ever. I’m not yours and I never will be. And that means I’m definitely not fucking you tonight. End of story.”

  Something in her eyes glinted a little harder than it had before. I wondered if I seemed like a monster to her. Fuck, not even one day into holy matrimony and my wife hated me already? I wasn’t cut out for this shit. Certainly not with her.

  “You know what, you’re right,” I said suddenly. She looked confused.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Let’s go.” I grabbed Liv’s hand and tugged her inside. A bell tinkled as we entered the front door, drawing the attention of the old lady behind the desk.

  “Ah, welcome!” she said cheerily. “I’m assuming you would like a room for two?”

  I looked Olivia dead in the eyes as I replied, “Just for one, actually. I won’t be staying here.”

  The old lady apologized for her assumption and started fiddling with the cash register. Olivia, on the other hand, practically exploded.

  “What the hell are you doing, Blaze?” she asked. “Where are you going?”

  I unleashed all my anger and confusion on her. I was sick of this tug-of-war we were having. This wasn’t a marriage I wanted to be any part of. Not if it was going to keep being like this.

  “Look, I’m tired of struggling with you. I’m pretty fucking fed up with the whole thing. If you wanna be this ice queen, go fucking right ahead, but I’m not having any of it. I was planning on having a quiet night here; wasn’t gonna touch you at all, actually. But fuck that whole idea. You stay here, and I’ll have Steezy come get you in the morning. He’ll take you back to Austin and that’ll be that. This won’t be anything like a real marriage.”

  With every successive word raining down on her, Olivia looked more and more confused. She hadn’t expected this sudden turnaround. To be honest, I hadn’t been expecting it either, but I was just finished with her bullshit. It was all fun and games up to a point, but we’d reached it now, and I was getting off of this goddamn roller coaster before it drove me insane.

  I went on. “I’m an Inked Angel, yeah, but I’m not a fucking rapist. I won’t lay a fucking finger on you. I’ll be a gentleman from here on out. So here’s your key, go to your room, and have a nice fucking life.”

  I didn’t wait for her to say anything back. I turned and stormed out of the place, leaving her staring, wide-mouthed, at my back as I mounted my bike and took off steaming down the road.

  * * *

  Damn, it felt good to put distance between me and that nightmare scenario. It wasn’t that she’d put up such a fight—that was all part of the fun. But I just didn’t have the stomach to do that with her. With anyone else, yeah, but not with Liv. There was just too much shit there. Too much lead in my leg, for one thing.

  It was kind of surprising how long this little clash had lasted at all. I’d been the world’s biggest asshole to her, and even though she fought back, there was always part of her that wasn’t fighting. She’d wanted it—I could spot that shit from a mile away. That part made it hard for me to leave.

  But it just wasn’t worth it anymore. I’d tell Croak that he’d have to find another way to bury the hatchet with Luke, because this was just too fucked to keep going. Then I’d rinse my hands of the whole damn mess and go get a nice buzz, pound some clubhouse whore, and get back to my normal life.

  I stopped off at a gas station along the road to phone Croak.

  “Eh?” answered Steezy when I dialed the president’s office line.

  “Steez, I need to talk to Croak,” I said.

  “He ain’t in.”

  “It’s important.”

  “Yeah, well, he ain’t in, brother. Not much I can do about that.”

  “Where’d he go?”

  “Hell if I know.”

  “Any idea when he’ll be back?”

  “Nope.”

  “You’re just full of helpful information, aren’t you?”

  “No need to be a wise ass, Blaze,” he drawled.

  “Better than a dumbass like you,” I retorted. Steezy chuckled, then hung up. What a bastard.

  I set the phone back on the hook and walked out. Guess I’d have to do the getting drunk part of my plan before I let Croak know that the marriage was no longer an opt
ion.

  I found my way to a dusty country bar with boarded windows, set off the road a bit. My kind of place. The music was loud enough that I didn’t have to hear any of the other poor bastards drinking alone at the bar. Me and my friend Jack Daniels could keep to ourselves, have a real nice conversation without being forced to deal with the dregs of humanity that always found their way to me when I was having a shitty fucking day like today.

  I slapped the bar counter as I pulled up a stool. The bartender, a wrinkly old son of a bitch with callused knuckles that had probably split their fair share of skulls wide open, meandered over.

  “What’ll ya have?” he asked.

  “Whiskey, neat,” I told him. “Matter of fact, leave the whole damn bottle.”

  “Whatever you want, kid,” he told me.

  I sat and poured myself glass after glass until there was a good buzz going in my stomach and thoughts about Olivia had faded to the back-burner. I’d deal with that shit tomorrow. Right now, all I wanted was the next sip.

  A while later, someone plunked down in the seat next to me. I looked over and was surprised to see Croak. He pointed to my bottle and told the bartender, “I’ll have what he’s havin’.” The bartender nodded and brought him a fresh glass.

  “So, Blaze,” he said to me as he poured himself a few fingers of whiskey from the bottle. “You left your old lady out alone.”

  I didn’t bother asking how he knew what had happened. Croak had eyes on everything. He always knew shit like that.

  “She ain’t my old lady,” I growled. “That shit wasn’t real.”

  “Looked pretty damn real to me,” Croak replied. “Y’all had the I dos and the parts about being with each other forever, all that stuff. Lotsa people there to witness. Don’t see how you can really fake that.”

  “I don’t give a damn,” I said, taking another sip. “Wasn’t real. That’s no marriage.”

  Croak thought a while before he said anything else. He just sat there stroking his damn beard. He knew that shit drove me insane.

  “Out with it, old man,” I told him after I’d gotten sick of waiting for him to speak up.

  He chuckled. “Well, it just seems to me like you made an eternal promise. You got yourself hitched to an old lady, and then you went and left her by her lonesome? Somethin’ about that just don’t seem right to me, son.”

  I didn’t like where this was going one bit. “What’re you gonna do, order me to go back there?” I raised my voice. “You’re my prez, and I’ll honor the patch, but you can’t make me go fuck her or nothin’. The most you can do is make me interrogate her about what that fuckhead brother of hers is up to. I’ll do what it takes to keep my brothers from getting killed. Aside from that, I don’t owe you or the club anything.”

  Croak shrugged. “No, no, I wouldn’t do anything of the sort,” he said to me. “Wouldn’t dream of taking a man’s independence from him. That ain’t the Inked Angels way.”

  He poured himself another glass as he continued. “The thing is, though, that there ain’t really another option. The way I see it, if you don’t do your part here, a lot of men could get hurt. Just heard some intel from one of our guys we’ve got planted down south,” he told me. “Lobo and the Diablos are really raring at the bit to dip their fingers into what we’ve got goin’ over here. They think this new drug they’re cookin’ up is really something. They think they can come waltzing into our territory with it, and that we won’t be able to do anything about it.”

  He looked at me side-eyed. “The worst part is, they’re right. We just don’t have what it takes to keep him back if they decided to make a full-scale push into Texas.”

  My hand curled into an angry fist. Croak had me cornered, and he knew it.

  “So,” he went on, “like it or not, we need the Austin charter. They’ve got the upper hand on weapons, not to mention the manpower we need to keep the Diablos down where they belong.”

  This wasn’t news to me. I knew the situation, just like he’d laid it out the first time. The news that the Diablos were prepping to make a big move didn’t surprise me either. But it meant the stakes were higher.

  “There’s more to it though,” said Croak. “You knew all this already, Blaze. I don’t think you needed to hear it again. So I’m startin’ to wonder whether there’s something else going on with you. Somethin’ goin’ soft in that head of yours? Is there more to it with this old lady of yours?”

  I stared him straight in the eyes and lied. “Ain’t a damn thing soft about me, Croak, and if you weren’t my president, I’d have beat that face of yours into a pulp just for making the suggestion.”

  A tense silence hung in the air when I’d finished speaking. Croak raised that cryptic fucking eyebrow again, saying everything and nothing at the same time. Damn, if only I could’ve smacked that bastard right off his bar stool.

  “Come with me,” he said abruptly, pushing back from the bar. I asked where he was going, but he ignored me as he wound between the other patrons and headed for a back door.

  We pushed out the exit and crossed a dusty yard towards another house that sat out back. I didn't know what this place was. The windows were bright and full, and silhouettes moved across them. Croak walked up the steps and knocked at the door. A slit opened at eye level, then shut. The door swung open.

  “Croak, baby, so good to see you!” said a curvy older woman wearing a dress and boots.

  “Hey, darlin’,” he said to her. “Corinne, this is Blaze. He’d like to see the selection tonight, if you’d be so kind as to show us around.”

  “Well, of course!” she exclaimed. “What a good-lookin’ big fella you are,” she said, eyeing me up and down. “One might not be enough for ya!”

  I had no idea what in the hell she was talking about, but the way she looked at me, I knew I was in for something.

  We followed Corinne into the house, walking into a plush waiting room. Corinne pointed toward an overstuffed chair and told Croak to make himself comfortable.

  “Sure will,” he said, easing into the chair and sparking a cigarette.

  “This way, Blaze,” she said, gesturing for me to walk in front of her down the long hallway lined with doors on either side. The doors each had a glass panel at eye level. They were foggy, so I couldn’t see much more than vague blurry shapes inside.

  I looked back at Croak, but he refused to look at me. Instead, he just sat smoking his cigarette with an unreadable expression on his face, gazing off into the distance.

  I turned back towards Corinne. She pressed a switch on the wall, and the lights overhead dimmed into a low red glow. Suddenly, the glass on the doors was crystal clear, and I could see right through. She swept a hand down the hall. “Take a look, babe,” she told me. “Have anyone you like.”

  I turned to look through the door nearest to me. Inside was a circular bed, neatly made, and a few pieces of bedroom furniture. Perched on the bed was a dark-skinned brunette wearing six-inch stiletto heels. Her legs were spread wide open, and two manicured nails were rubbing frenetic circles against her moist pussy. I could hear soft moans coming from her wide open O of a mouth as she got closer and closer to coming.

  The next door down had a blonde bent over a chair, gently fingering herself from behind. She bit her lip and groaned as the motion picked up speed and intensity.

  Each of the rooms was the same—a beautiful, naked girl, brimming on the edge of orgasm after orgasm. The whole house was quivering from the commotion. This was every man’s dream.

  But not mine, not tonight. What the fuck is wrong with you? I asked myself. Have any bitch you’ve ever wanted. Curvy, thin, tall, short, blonde, or brunette. Fuck them however you’d like, for as long as you’d like, as many as you can handle at one time.

  A man could spend years in here, I was sure, trying everything under the goddamn sun.

  But I didn’t want it.

  One image kept coming back to me, like it was seared into my eyeballs: Olivia, twirling in that w
inding leather lingerie, looking up at me and asking, “Do you like it?” That image made my cock harden like nothing else in this house could.

  I wondered if I’d ever go back to being me, the old me, the Blaze who fucked what he pleased and didn’t get attached to any bitch. I wondered if marriage had already screwed me over, or if Olivia had done some real voodoo on my brain. I didn’t have an answer.

  There was only one thing to do.

  “Alright,” I growled to Croak as I stalked past him and out the door. “I’ll finish the damn job. I’ll go back to the old lady.”

  Croak didn’t say a word as I left. That son of a bitch.

  * * *