Rebel Ink

by Laura Wright

  Lis doesn’t disappoint.

  I grin and keep going, inching my way until my face is hovering over her hot puss. The scent of her distracts me from my slow and easy. I might need to toss that plan and just get to eating. She squeezes her ass then, trying to get closer, and just to make her even more insane—and fuck, me too—I kiss her through the lace.

  “Oh, god,” she rasps.

  “It’s Vincent, baby. But people do confuse us at times.”

  Her head lifts and she glares at me. “This is cruel.”

  I grin. “Well, I don’t want to be cruel.” I drop my head and send my nose through her pussy. Even through the lace, she feels me and cries out, head dropping back onto the pillow again. “I could make you come like this. You want that?” Before she answers, I swipe down, and her body spasms. Oh, the things I’m going to do to this girl.

  My girl.

  Her pussy juice on my nose has pretty much opened the floodgates inside me. I’m unreasonable Vincent now. I want what I want. And that’s her on my tongue. Now. “Don’t move,” I whisper. Then I cover her with my mouth and suck. Her and the lace, into my mouth.

  “Oh, god!” she cries.

  I don’t try and correct her. Waste of time.

  And resources.

  I suck her in again. Release. Then again. Four times, until I feel her clit pulse.

  Her knuckles are white as she fists the cotton, and she’s not heeding my command about not moving. She’s squeezing her ass and sending her pelvis forward. Bitch. I grin as I suck on that hot clit. She’s going to come. I can tell. And I want to watch. I want to see how she takes climax.

  I keep the pace steady as I suck her off through the lace, trying to quell my own orgasm. But those sounds she’s making. It ain’t easy.

  Suddenly, she goes still. Her face, all pink, open mouth—and then she breaks, cries out like a hungry cat and starts thrusting against my mouth. Over and over. It’s beautiful as fuck. And wet. Like, really wet.

  I’m. In. Heaven.

  I don’t wait for her to come down. Not my style. I hook my fingers in the thin waistband of her panties and take ‘em down. They join the dress on the floor just as I push Lisa’s knees up to her tits. I want the real deal now. No fabric in my way.

  “What?” she utters. “But you already…”

  I chuckle and settle myself between her legs. “That was just a warm-up—get the tension O out of the way.” I give her the once-over. She’s shaved and drenched, and I open her with my thumbs and give her clit a little tap. She gasps. “Pink and swollen. Just the way I like it. Now let’s see if you’re ready on the inside too.” I send my tongue up inside of her and groan when her muscles clamp around me. Oh shit, yes.

  She groans too and I feel her hands on my head. That’s right, Lis. Hold on. Ride’s about to get wild.

  I replace my tongue up inside her with two fingers, pumping her real slow and easy. And then cover her pussy with my mouth. At first, I try to keep things light because I know she just went off and her clit’s sensitive. But it’s so hard. I’m hungry and her walls are creaming around my fingers. And my cock is painfully erect. Like blue balls time. It wants inside her before it loses its shit.

  Not yet, asshole.

  I snuggle into her pussy lips and go to town, flicker my tongue over her clit super-light until she’s breathing heavy and trying to fuck my face. Her smell is my personal drug and I can’t get enough. But I back off just a bit so I can keep her humming and not falling over the edge again.

  “Vincent,” she utters on a pretty distressed-sounding moan.

  “Yeah, baby,” I say before flattening my tongue on her and tugging back and forth.

  Her fingers dig into my scalp. “Shit. Yes.”

  She’s creaming hard around my digits. I don’t want her coming. Not like this. I want it around my dick.

  I ease my fingers out of her, and growl when she cries with the loss of me. Condom. Condom. Where are the condoms? I’d put them in the side table drawer, on top of the Bible cuz I’m sick like that. I grab one and rip the fucker open. I can’t get it on fast enough. And I’m skilled, yo. Then I settle myself back between her legs, my cock to her wet pussy this time. Instantly, she wraps her legs around my waist and I think I howl with delight. Her eyes are pinned to mine and she’s sorta gasping for air.

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I whisper, grinning.

  She grins back. “And it’s only the two of us.”

  My lips curve into a wicked smile. “Hey, I can find someone if that’s what you want.”

  She tightens her thigh grip on my hips. “Only if it’s another dude.”

  “Fuck that,” I say, kinda Neanderthal. Didn’t know I had it in me.

  “Then fuck that,” she returns. She lifts her hips and circles her pussy, teasing the shit out of my dick. “And just fuck me.”

  This girl. Goddammit. I send my hips back until the tip of my cock is right where it belongs. Then I push myself inside her, all the way. As deep as I can go. Shit, if I could get my balls inside, I would. Then I look down. Her eyes are open. Her cheeks are pink.

  Just like her pussy.

  I don’t move. Not just yet. I’m watching her. Watching her lips twitch, then break into a fantastic smile.

  “What? Blondie,” I growl, “what do you have up your sleeve?”

  She doesn’t answer me. Not with words anyway. She tilts her chin up and motherfucking licks my face. I die. And I think I come a little too. Cuz seriously, there’s nothing hotter than this girl licking herself off my face. And my lips. And my jaw. I drop my head and go in for the kill. Kissing her as I slowly fuck her. I’m not a huge kisser. Usually I like to get right to it. It’s kinda intimate or something. Your breath and their breath intermingling. Looking at each other. Faces you make. I dunno. Always been uncomfortable for me. But with this chick, it’s flipped. I want to see everything. Her reactions. I want to know what she likes. What makes her breath catch and her eyes glaze over.

  Does that make me a pussy?

  Shit.

  Or does it make me different than I was a week ago?

  A wrecked, tatted-up asshole who didn’t think it was possible to climb out of his dark hole in hell, much less change into a different kind of dude.

  She wraps her arms around my neck then and I stop thinking about past shit and start moving inside her. She’s perfect. A tight fist around my hungry cock. Meeting me with every stroke. All the while, my eyes are open and so are hers. It’s so weird. And awesome. Me looking at her while we fuck. It makes my chest hurt. Makes my cock harder. Makes me wish we’d done this a long time ago.

  I reach between our bodies then, and as I change the rhythm, grinding myself against her, then thrusting hard and deep, my fingers find her clit and I start up again with some gentle circles. Her breath catches and her eyes flutter. She’s going to come again, and I’m gonna be right there with her.

  Is this what Merrick has been going on about? Him and Addison? If it is—no, if it’s even half of this—I get it. I so get it.

  I feel her pussy walls start to pulse around me. “Fuck, Lis,” I grind out as I quicken the strokes on her clit. “You keep doing that and I’m done.”

  “I can’t help it,” she whimpers.

  And then she’s coming. And it’s different this time. Where the other one was a crash against the shore, this baby is a tsunami. Building, drawing back, then fuck…a hot wash of come bathes my dick and I’m gone. I think I tell her to hold on, but I don’t know. I’m thrusting hard and quick. Again and again. Deep inside her as my mind shuts down and I’m nothing but a bliss-filled battering ram. Her cries are my own, and I never want this to end.

  Even when it does.

  Even when her moans lessen and her thighs relax.

  I drop my head on her right breast and nuzzle. I want these. I never got to these. My tongue darts out and I lick her tight, high nipple. Then grin when I feel her pussy walls clamp me again. Fuck…

 
; Afraid I’m too much dead weight on her, I roll to the side and take her with me. Instantly, she snuggles up against me, and though I’m not inside her anymore, she still sorta thrusts her wet pussy on my hip. Love it. Shit, who knew? Then she tucks her head into my neck and holds on.

  I don’t do this. Ever. Stay. Cuddle. Let the sweat have time to dry. And yet I don’t want anything else for the rest of my life. I’m a fucking wreck.

  As she kisses my neck and mewls softly, my arms go around her. Tight. I’m not letting her go for nothing. Just try and get a crowbar in here, fuckers. This girl is mine. Maybe I’ll tattoo that on her ass. Maybe I’ll tattoo that on my ass.

  I grin.

  I just have to convince her I’m a changed asshole. That I’m worth walking away from easy, breezy, boring Buttons for.

  The grins falters.

  I don’t say anything about it though. As we cool down and I draw the covers up over us, and she settles in for sleep, I’m mute. Because tonight—of all nights—I can’t handle her telling me no. That she’s not in.

  That she’s not mine.

  This man is so gorge.

  I can’t stop staring at him.

  It’s morning, nine something, and I moved the covers off him about five minutes ago so I could really study the hotness. Like, every inch. Every line. Every tat. Honestly, Vincent is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. He’s long and lean, but muscular too. Like his calves are thick and have a nice amount of hair on them. They have ink too. The left one is completely covered, but interestingly the right one is pretty bare. Just a word scrawled across it. Pussy. Shocker. I keep perusing. Up. Yes. His thighs are cut—his hip bones too. His stomach and chest are ripped and not an inch isn’t blanketed with ink. There are symbols I don’t recognize and dragon-like creatures crawling up one pectoral. He likes color. He looks goood in color. I keep going. His arms are one of my favorite parts of him. Both have sleeves of tats. But it’s more than that. They’re strong and corded with muscle, and when they lift me up or hold me close I feel feminine and protected.

  And then there are his hands: long and sexy, inked and very, very talented.

  My breasts tingle and my sex clenches. Oh yeah, they remember.

  My gaze drops to the very fine muscle between his legs. It’s hard, drawn up against his abs, and I want to lick it. I glance up. He’s totally asleep, his lips kind of swollen from all the work they did last night. I smile and I run my hand up the base of his shaft. Hot, smooth. I wrap my hand around it.

  And very heavy.

  He groans in his sleep.

  That’s right, baby, wake up.

  I run my thumb over the slit at the top and when a bead of pre-come appears I drop my head and lap it up with my tongue.

  Vincent’s abs clench. The sight is ridiculously hot and I can’t help myself. I guide his cock all the way into my mouth. Deep. Yum. Hot, pulsing goodness. My hunger gets the better of me and I start sucking, drawing him in and out of my mouth. Licking him. Nipping the tip until it gives me what I want. A salty taste. I only know Vincent’s awake when his fingers slide into my hair and fist.

  “Shit, Lis,” he hisses. “Yeah. Christ.”

  His voice is dark and raspy and goes straight to my sex. I give myself up to him, let him set the pace. How fast he wants it. How deep. He’s not crazy with that, doesn’t send himself to the back of my throat, and I’m grateful. Show him how grateful. I lick and suck and moan like I’m tasting the sweetest popsicle ever.

  And I kinda am.

  And when I feel his body jerk and his cock swell, I don’t beg off. I’m not one of those girls. Not with Vincent, anyway. I want to taste him. Just like he tasted me.

  “Fuck, you sure?” he asks, his voice pained. He’s going to come.

  I don’t answer, just suck him deep and let him figure it out for himself.

  Which he does.

  Pretty damn quick.

  He comes in a rush of thrusts and groans and curses and hair tugs. So very Vincent. And I love it. Love that I’m making him feel this way.

  I don’t come off him right away. I savor. Licking the head of him and down the shaft, just to make sure I got everything. But when I do pull back and sit up, he’s staring at me, sorta stunned, through heavily lidded eyes. God, he’s sexy.

  I smile and lick my lips.

  He groans.

  “Good morning,” I say.

  “Fuck that. Great morning is more like it.”

  I swear I would stay in this bed with him all day if I could. I want him a hundred different ways. Behind me. Cowgirl, and then reverse cowgirl. And what about my mustache ride? I’m getting that. Whatever it takes.

  But there’s reality to deal with. I give him a pouty look. “Our flight’s at eleven.”

  He gives it right back. “This, you and me, it’s been…”

  “Yeah,” I finish for him. “Totally.”

  He comes up on his elbows. “But that other shit…I’m so ready to go back to Vegas.” His eyes probe me. “What about you? You ready to go back, Lis?”

  I shiver slightly. My body’s cooling. Well, that is the question, isn’t it? Going back. To Vegas. To Santa Barbara. Here in Minnesota, I have drama and heartbreak and Vincent. In Vegas I have drama too…and decisions…

  He sits up and puts his hands on either side of my face, strokes my skin, then slips my hair behind my ears. “I don’t like you quiet, Blondie. I like you loud and snarky.”

  My eyes lift to meet his. Black on blue. “I’m not snarky.”

  “Please.” He leans in and kisses me. So gentle. So warm. I could get lost. Again.

  “The plane,” I say against his mouth.

  “Yeah, yeah,” he groans. He pulls away from me. “I’m going. To shower. Alone.”

  He stands up and I stare at his ass. Holy fuck. He has those dents in the sides. How did I miss that? And tat free. Me want to bite.

  “Did you hear me, Lis?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder. “Showering alone.”

  My mouth’s watering, so my hearing’s pretty much off.

  “Stop staring at my ass.”

  “I can’t. It’s edible.”

  He laughs and heads for the bathroom, shaking that fine ass as he goes. I’m going to join him in a sec, see if I can get that from-behind thing under the spray, show him my ass. But first I need to text Addy and thank her and Rush for the first class tickets, and the copy of Vincent’s driver’s license.

  Kudos to Rush for having the thing on file.

  But just as I reach for my cell I see a text light up on Vincent’s phone. I shouldn’t, but I do. Could be one of his—

  My guts instantly twist. It’s from her.

  Mother: You are a true disappointment, Charles. Not the son I raised. That little scene nearly cost Garrett his work. Take your whore back to Las Vegas and never return.

  My chest fills with air. And pain. I hate these people. So much it might actually consume me at some point. I pick up the phone. I just can’t…not reply.

  Mrs. Birch, this is Lisa. (aka the whore) Unfortunately, Vincent can’t answer his phone right now. He’s at the police station.

  Maybe that was wrong. Maybe it’s right the fuck on. I don’t know, but I leave it there. What happens from here on out is up to Vincent. About those pieces of shit who raised and abused him, and about me. He has choices to make.

  I stand up, stretch and head for the bathroom.

  And so do I.

  Lisa and I are sitting pretty in first class. Unbeknownst to me, she bought us both some chill clothes on her shopping excursion yesterday. So thoughtful. My girl. I turn to stare at her. She looks gorgeous. Kinda bohemian. Tight jeans, white ribbed tank under a cream blousy sorta shirt. Her hair is snaking over one shoulder in a loose braid. And she’s got that glow. You know, sex face.

  I got it too.

  I wonder if her ass is still sore from the shower. Hell, she begged for it. And V’s not about to deny L any damn thing. “You miss the private plane?” I a
sk her.

  She sighs. “Please. I don’t even remember it.”

  I snort. “Neither do I.”

  “Cheers, by the way.” She clinks her glass of champs to my beer and I laugh.

  “So? You still marrying Buttons, or what?” That’s right. I get to it. What’s the point of stalling? This one is a need to know before we touch down.

  Her eyes are probing mine. Like she’s gonna find the answers there.

  “Blondie,” I start.

  “No.” My brows go up. Maybe my dick a little too. “I’m not,” she continues. “My heart’s not in it, and he should marry someone who digs him hardcore, you know?”

  Fireworks are going off in my chest, but I play it off cool. “Sure.”

  “Plus after he hears I slept with you, you know he’ll be afraid—”

  “He could never measure up?” I interrupt.

  She tips her glass toward me. “Absolutely. That.”

  I chuckle. Fuck, I’m relieved. This girl belongs on my metaphoric lap, like permanently. But she isn’t exactly telling me that. Just that Buttons is over. “What are your plans, Lis? Going back to the SB?” The beer’s not sitting right in my gut. I put it down.

  “Well,” she says, looking me over. “First thing, after I talk with Kevin, of course, is to get away from my parents. And then I need to sit down and figure out how I let my life get away from me over the past year. Yesterday was an eye-opener—just the one I needed. And you…I’m proud of you.” She reaches out and puts her hand on my right cheek.

  “Baby,” I turn into her palm and lick it. Mine. Mine, fucking mine.

  She laughs. “I need to find myself a real job…and you know, get another job while I’m searching for that job.”

  “We need a receptionist at Wicked. Hella bad.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wait for the regret to come. But it doesn’t. Shit, I want her there. Merrick is so gonna razz my ass about this.