by C. M. Steele
"Thanks," I mutter with my head resting on a pillow as he does part of my flank. "Make sure to lock up, lass," Mick hollers, while still buzzing away on me.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she throws out from the front. Rico, one of our men and her brother walks her to her car. He's got some business back in Dallas as an ATF agent. He's a badass like all my men, but we keep him out of anything illegal since he's a narc. He and Law keep their hands clean, but they know we're not quite legal. We haven't killed anyone since being out of the service, but we did put a couple people in the hospital for disrespecting the town and women. But if the time came to end someone I wouldn’t hesitate.
“Women,” we both grumble at the same time. My little sister is living in town with me and I want to send her snarky bottom back to Dallas. I tense, thinking about what she’s up to.
I try to relax so Mick can finish. I’m at his shop, Dirty Mick’s Tats. He’s one of my lieutenants and a good friend. He’s got skills like no one else in the business. With his ginger hair and deep green eyes, we call him the dirty Mick. His real name is Ewan McMann. He’s even got a wee bit of an accent since moving here as a child from Ireland. He’s our translator when Conor McGregor comes on. Mick loves that cocky Irishman. I think he’s pretty bad ass myself, but all my men are just as tough. No one belonging to the Steele Riders is a pussy. We ride hard and take shit from no one.
He's working when he mutters, “Some lasses are at the door, but Demi’s gone for the day.” He tips his head to the security monitor, then continues with the shading in on the tat. “They should have been here ten minutes ago. The shop’s closed for the night.”
“Shit, fuck em. Don’t let them in,” I toss out, relaxing on the bed, letting him finish. “I don’t know what’s with you and not tatting females, but the shop is closed anyway.”
“They bitch and squeal too much. Then again, some men are big arse crybabies, too.” We both laugh, but I don’t think that’s it. Mick hasn’t tatted a woman since he moved here about a year ago. He’s the only shop in this small but growing and booming town. That’s why he hired Demi. She takes care of the small population of females.
The doorbell buzzes again. I look up at the screen as he wipes off the last bit of ink. It's my sister. What the fuck is she doing here? It’s late, and she’s wearing something too damn short. Texas heat or not, her ass knows I don’t appreciate her walking around dressed like that.
My men are going to start tailing her if she can’t act right. More and more people have been moving into my town over the past six months. Our population is almost large enough for self-governing. Right now, we abide by county rules and our own. We have a sheriff and a few deputies, but as it picks up we’ll add to it. With more people comes more trouble.
I know Morgan’s got a habit of fucking up lately, but this is going to set me off. A week into college she dropped out. She returned here, talking back to me and staying in her apartment. I told her ass that slacking off wasn't acceptable, so she got her old job back at the grocery store. She doesn’t need the money because I’m here for her, but I want her to learn responsibility. I don’t know what’s with her, but she’s been different and hiding away. I wish we had our parents to help me with her. I wanted her to find something she could love, but how was she supposed to when she spent her time hiding away?
“What’s your sister doing here?” he asks like I have a damn clue.
I lean over and buzz her in, causing her to stumble through the door. It's then that I spot a small woman behind her. She can't be more than five feet. I snarl at Mick, "Clean me up. I've got to deal with my sister.”
He chuckles and I’m ready to pop him in the fucking mouth. "Chill, Pres, it's not a crime to come in here." I cock a brow at him, letting him know that defending her wouldn’t be good at the moment. I need to call Jackson on this one. He’s off on business for the next two months, but at least he can talk to her. I can kill a motherfucker with my bare hands, but I can’t get an eighteen-year-old to fucking listen to me.
"It's ten at night and she's fucking shit faced." I'm getting more pissed by the second especially at seeing Morgan's new bestie, Crystal. It has to be her because Morgan doesn’t talk to other women here. She says it’s because everyone wants me and looks for a way in through her.
She met Crystal in college, but their friendship is over now. Something about the little thing with tiger-shaped eyes is throwing me off. My dick springs to life in the most fucked up moment. I can't have that. She's probably barely legal. I’m well on my way to losing my mind. Mick finishes in a rush. I jump up and walk out before him. I need to straighten both the women out. I don’t even give a fuck that I’m shirtless.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Morgan?” I scold, my hand clenching at my sides. Looking at my unsteady sister, I grab her shoulders and move her to one of the waiting area chairs. She falls easily to the seat because she can barely stand.
“My sweet friend wants a tat. So, we figured nobody better than Mickey here,” she slurs, pointing at my sexy little thing. I close my eyes and take a deep breath before I lose my shit.
“It’s Mick,” I tell her. Morgan’s got a bad attitude. I turn to her friend who’s staring at my chest, boldly running her eyes up and down my body. Fuck, I never felt eye-fucked before, but I believe this little fiery miss managed to screw me with just her gaze. “I’m Garrett Steele.”
“We call him Boomer,” Morgan giggles out, completely drunk. “Cause he likes to blow shit up. Boom!” She pops her hands up in the air to mimic an explosion. She’s totally going to regret this tomorrow.
“I’m Crystal,” my little beauty murmurs. She’s fucking stunning. Those lips are plump like all the curves on her.
“I know,” I grumble.
“How?” she asks, arching those perfectly sculpted brows.
“You’re not someone I could forget.”
“Ooh, Boomer is going bonkers for my bestie,” Morgan pipes in.
“Be quiet. You’re in enough trouble and so is the person who gave you the booze.”
“Don’t be an ass to her, Gare. She’s not the one who did it,” Morgan argues. I don’t care. She’s drunk; they both are, and anyone could take advantage of them.
“Oh please. Like you never drank at eighteen. I’m sure you were living it up,” Crystal says, tossing me an accusing glare. Damn, that mouth is going to get her into trouble. She stepped into a trap she won’t be able to wiggle out of. I grasp her chin, rougher than necessary, and she pulls away, unafraid. She should be because I can see that look in her eyes. It’s the one that has her eager to jump on my dick. Fuck, I’ll break her tiny body in two. Shit, the more I look at her the more I like. Her tits are full and popping out of her black tank top. I return the appraisal, intentionally staring at her pussy. I can see her thighs clench just enough to tell me she’s getting wet. It only makes me angrier. She’s too fucking young for me and the way she’s walking around I’m sure there’s a fucking army of dicks looking to fill my spot.
“I was in Iraq at eighteen. Living it up isn’t what I’d call it.” She swallows hard but doesn’t say a word. I know she feels this shit, too. I inch closer, forcing her to take a step back. I roughly grasp her chin again, then inform her, “Tigress. Pull back those claws before I take your ass over my knee and give you a taste of my belt. This is my town. And everyone knows if they get her drunk there’ll be hell to pay.” She pulls her face out of my hold, but she’s lost for words. Her eyes return to me, showing she’s not intimidated. I like it.
I don’t know what the fuck is coming over me, but I’m horny, jealous as a motherfucker, angry as hell, and ready to show her she’s going to be mine. I forget all about Mick and Morgan in the room, my attention all for my sweet little firecracker. “You’re going to be a handful, but I’ll tell you this right now. You’re playing with fire. I’m going to warn you this one time only. If you come at me with that attitude again, I’m going to show you what happens to a mouth like that.�
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“You wouldn’t.”
“Tigress, you’ve got me in a bad spot. I’m giving you one chance to stay away from me. Be wise about it.” I turn around and get my shirt from the back, but don’t put it on. I need air, some beer, and a couple cold showers or a good stroke.
“Mick, I’m out. Morgan, Crystal, come now. You’re both going home,” I order, standing at the front door.
“Listen, I don’t take orders from random strangers. Excuse me, but I came to get a tat.” The attempt to move away only makes me laugh.
I give Mick a deadly glare that’s a warning and he knows it, before adding, “Mick’s closed, and will be for good if he even considers it.”
“Who do you think you are?” I’m doing my best to not laugh. She’s a tigress in kitten form. God, I want to be in her hard and fast and calm her ass down.
I cup her chin, softer this time and whisper, “Baby, welcome to Steeleville. I own almost every place in this small town.”
“Is that supposed to make me fawn over you?” she eggs me on. Every other single woman I’ve met can’t wait to try and hook up with me when they learn who I am. I shake my head in disbelief, yet I’m pleasantly surprised.
“No, you challenged my right. It’s all mine, so I guess it’s my right.” She’s mine too. I’ve decided that right here and now. I’ve been a very astute man and it’s made me the success I am. The chemistry between us could explode like a pallet of C4. There’s no way I can just let that go. I tried, but she’s refusing to back down.
“You’re a dick.” She steps back and crosses her arms.
I nod because it’s true. “Yep. Now, I’m taking you home and you’ll keep your ass there.”
“Why should I?”
“I’m not letting something happen to you because you’re walking around town smashed.”
“I’m not drunk, she is.” Before I can say another thing, Morgan lets us know she’s wasted as she pukes all over Mick’s tattoo book that she’s looking at. I help her up and to the back bathroom. Mick’s grabbing towels to wipe her up. He takes over for me, which surprises me since he saw her upchuck on his hard work.
“Lass, what am I going to do with you?” he asks her teasingly. He’s been nice to her since they met.
She looks at him from her perch at the bathroom sink and if looks could kill Mick would be dead. Why is she mad at him? If anything, he should be ready to murder her. “Oh my God, I’m such a mess. I hate you, Ewan.” She swipes away his hands and cleans up by herself.
“What the hell is that about?” I ask him. He turns, looking more confused than me, and shrugs. “She’s drunk.”
“Take her home, and I’ll clean up the rest,” he says, and there goes the upset I expected. We step into the main area where Crystal has already taken care of most of it.
“Thanks, miss.”
“It’s the least I could do. I’ll take her home,” Crystal says. I eye Mick because I don’t like the way he smiled at her. She’s mine, and that’s that.
“No, I’ll take my sister home and you too.”
“Whatever.” Morgan comes out and saves Crystal from getting kissed for that damn attitude. The ride home is quick, leaving me feeling bereft, but at least I know they live in the same building. Morgan’s able to walk on her own and waves me off.
“Goodnight, girls.” I wait for them to get inside before driving off. It sucks that I have to leave, but I have shit to do in the morning. Being important means time for myself is far and few between. But for Crystal, I’ll change that.