Rogue (Dead Man's Ink #2)

by Callie Hart

  “And these guys who somehow found their way to me, they’re even more gung-ho about that stuff than the army. Ramirez has been screwing with me and my family for years now, screwing with our business. These men aren’t going to take that lying down. They’re going to skin the motherfucker alive, given half the chance. They’ll do it by any means necessary. They won’t let a girl they don’t know get in their way. And some of them haven’t exactly had the most stable female role models in their lives, either. A few of them…a few of them don’t see a reason for there to be women around the club at all, other than for the occasional receptacle to sink their dicks into.

  “I didn’t want them getting confused about your purpose here, Soph. So, yeah. You were pretty much the most heavily guarded secret I had. That’s seriously saying something. And, no, I’m not sorry for it.”

  FIVE

  REBEL

  The next five days are seriously fucking shitty.

  Moving is a uphill struggle—even getting up to take a piss is a monumental effort—and when I do feel well enough to sit up in bed, I’m not even allowed to hold a goddamn book. Cade told Sophia not to let me lift anything and, boy, did the girl take him literally. She reads to me. She fucking reads to me, and it’s amazing. I don’t tell her that, though. I sit with my eyes closed, pretending I don’t notice her eyes are on me more often than they are on the pages of Catch 22.

  Unlike the first night I was hurt, she doesn’t sleep with me in the bed anymore. She sleeps on the couch, arms and legs contorted in the most amusing positions, hair wild and crazy all over the cushions.

  I can’t believe she’s never come properly. That in itself is a travesty. I mean, yes, she came with me in that hallway, but that was rushed, a spur of the moment thing. Definitely not my best work. I can make her come so much harder than that. I can make her feel like her whole body is being ripped apart at the seams if I want to. And I do. I want to open her eyes. I wanna be the guy to show her what sex can feel like if it’s done properly, by a real man and not by some pissy, soft college kid. I’m gonna turn her whole world on it’s head, and it is going to be so goddamn perfect.

  In between what’s going down with Ramirez, Dela Vega, and the gigantic fucking hole in my side, I’m sure thinking about a girl is the most insane thing I could be doing right now, but as I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, Sophia is the only thing occupying my mind.

  She may think she’s being smart by sleeping on the other side of the room, but she’s not as clever as she thinks she is. I’ve seen the way she looks at me. She’s the most transparent person on the face of the planet—every thought she has is usually displayed right there on her face for everyone to see. It’s actually quite dangerous, really. Tonight I witnessed her thinking very bad things about me at least three times before she said she was tired and decided to bundle herself up to sleep, and it took every last scrap of will power I possessed to not physically pin her to the mattress and fuck her stupid. If I weren’t in so much pain, I would have done it, too.

  I think about that instead of the exposed wooden beams over my bed. I think about getting her on all fours so I can lick her pussy from behind. That quickly progresses into me sliding my fingers inside her as I lick and suck. Despite the burning pain lighting up my side, my cock begins to harden as I get a little more adventurous. By the time I’ve got her sitting on my face, my dick is rock solid and demanding I do something about the throbbing ache. I can’t believe I’m horny. I can’t believe I’m even still awake, considering the two healthy doses of morphine Cade shot me up with earlier. I’ve always burned off drugs really fast, though. And my cock’s never seemed to know when the hell it should be behaving itself.

  I try to ignore the growing desire pulsing around my body. I try to sleep. Across the other side of the room, Sophia turns over, the oversized shirt hitching up to expose bare flesh across her stomach. And her panties.

  Fuck.

  For a Seattle girl, she’s rocking a killer tan. And a killer body to match it.

  Go to sleep, Jamie. I try to talk myself into shutting her out, into letting unconsciousness slip over me, but the more I let go of the grip I’m holding on my thoughts, the more they wander to the half naked woman on the other side of the room.

  “Jesus,” I whisper softly under my breath. “This is going to end badly.” I last another minute before I’ve had enough. I need to act, need to do something about this. I have to.

  Getting up is really not fun. I have to tense my abs to hold everything in tight, which naturally hurts when you’ve just had minor surgery. I feel like if I cough, my intestines are going to burst right out of me all over the floor.

  Once I’m sitting upright, I carefully get to my feet. The room seesaws and I have to reach out to brace against the wall before I fall over. Yeah, this is a really bad idea indeed. I’m probably going to pass out well before I make it to Soph.

  Still. Loss of consciousness in the pursuit of epic sex is definitely worth it.

  With all the speed of a ninety-five year geriatric, I slowly, gradually make my way across the cabin. My head actually clears a little from the movement, which is good and bad in turns. Means I can feel even more, but I can piece my fractured ideas and thoughts together a little better too. Fair trade.

  I stare down at Sophia, wondering what she’s dreaming about. She’s so beautiful. When I was a kid, my mother had a print of Gustav Klimt’s ‘The Kiss’ on her bedroom wall. I used to stand and stare at the fine detailing of that painting, admiring the obvious, captured emotion between the two subjects, and admiring how ethereal the woman looked. That’s how Sophia looks now—ethereal. Not of this world. Magical, somehow. She takes my breath away.

  I should feel a little guiltier about what I’m about to do, but I don’t. She’s not going to object. She’s going to enjoy every last second of it, even if it kills me. And if I’m wrong and she doesn’t want it, I’ll stop and she can kick my ass again. Slowly I sink down to my knees and carefully hook my fingers under the waistband of her black cotton panties. The backs of my hands make contact with her sides and her skin is scalding, hot to the touch. She stirs, moaning lightly. I freeze, but then kick myself. The goal isn’t to not get caught here. I want her awake and writhing against me, damn it. I want her panting my name as I make her come.

  I bite back a smile as I let go of her panties, changing tack, and slowly sliding my thumb down, in between her legs. She inhales sharply, back arching up a little from the sofa, but she remains asleep. Her body responds to me, even though she’s out cold, which is a beautiful thing. She opens her legs, sliding them apart, sending blood rushing to my head.

  She is so amazing. Her body is incredible. My dick presses persistently against my boxers, but I don’t touch myself. This will be so, so much better if I wait for her to lay hands on me. I start slowly, rubbing her clit with my thumb in small circles. This is such delicious torture. I want to pull her underwear to the side and taste her, but it’s too soon. I want her to be awake for that. I want her to want me to. I apply a little more pressure with my thumb, a slow smile spreading across my face as Sophia gradually presses her hips up, grinding herself against me. Mind blowing.

  As I lightly press my mouth against the inside of her thigh, I look up the length of her stunning body to see that her eyelids are fluttering open. I guess this is the decisive moment. I ready myself, bracing for the full force of her outrage. Her lips part, the tip of her pink tongue slowly sliding out to wet her lips. She gazes at me blearily. I witness the moment where she fully comprehends what’s happening as her eyes clear of sleep, growing wider.

  “What—?”

  I hold up my free hand, halting her before she can go any further. “Don’t kick me. If you kick me, you’ll open up my stitches.”

  “Will I open up your stitches if I kick you in the head?” she whispers.

  I nod. “Probably. And let’s face it. You might mess up my face. You like my face. You don’t want to mess it up.”


  “You really are something else,” she says. She doesn’t bat my hand away, though. She doesn’t tell me to stop. I press down a little hard, quickening the motion as I continue to tease her clit, and she holds her breath.

  “I can stop if you want me to, Soph. I can drag my ass back to my bed, no problem. I get the feeling you don’t want me to, though.”

  “You’re an arrogant son of a bitch. What makes you think—”

  “Because I can feel how wet you are through your panties, Sophia. And you’re really, really damn wet.”

  “Urgh!” She presses her legs together, trapping my hand between them, scowling at me where I’m kneeling on the floor beside her.

  “What now?” I ask, grinning at her. “Is this where you pretend to get all upset and make me remove my hand? Huh?” I have just enough room to continue stroking my fingers over her pussy. She tenses, the muscles in her legs locking up. I can see the need in her eyes, which is almost enough to make me forget rational thought. “Or is this when you open up for me and let me slide my index finger and my middle finger deep inside you while I use my mouth on you at the same time.”

  “You are not going down on me,” she hisses.

  “Why not?”

  “Because. I haven’t showered since this morning.” Her scowl deepens, but I can see her true feelings quite plainly in her eyes again. The idea of my tongue lapping at her clit is turning her on. In case I needed any further evidence, I can feel her panties growing even wetter. They’re soaked now. The need to taste her is almost overwhelming, but I manage to restrain myself. I have to wait for her to unclamp her legs from around my arm before I can do anything anyway.

  “Sophia,” I whisper. “There’s no one else here. This is just you and me. Are you afraid of me?”

  “I should be.”

  “Maybe. But are and should be are two different things. Are you attracted to me?”

  She swallows. It looks like it takes great effort. “Yes,” she says breathlessly.

  “Good. And do you think I’m going to hurt you?”

  Answering this question takes a little longer. She stares me dead in the eye, not blinking or breathing while she makes up her mind. Eventually she says, “No.”

  “Good. Do you think I’m going to try and make you do something you don’t want to?”

  She slowly shakes her head.

  I quicken my movements, rubbing her a little more firmly. Her eyes practically roll back in her head. “Say it,” I command. “Tell me you know I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

  “I know you won’t force me,” she says, sighing. “Oh god…” She closes her eyes altogether.

  “Open your legs for me, sugar.”

  “No, I—” I begin to pull my hand away, ready to back the hell off, but she locks her legs together even tighter. “How about…a trade?” she asks.

  “I’m not very good at compromising.”

  “So I’ve gathered.”

  “So what do you want to trade?”

  “I’ll open my legs…if you let me out of here. I want free roam of the compound. Whenever I want.”

  “No. Not happening.” There’s just no fucking way. I tug my hand back, trying to free myself, but she’s got a pretty damn good hold on me.

  “You said it yourself, Rebel. I’m safe here. What could be the harm?”

  “You’re even more safe in this cabin, sugar.”

  She gives me a look that I’m sure caused her daddy to melt like butter whenever she wanted something she knew she wasn’t allowed. She has that look nailed, damn it. Regardless that I’m aware she’s manipulating me, I find myself caving. If she were just in the compound when I knew it was safe, that would surely be okay. A month ago, there’s no way I would even be considering this, but now…now she’s had plenty of time to work her way under my skin, and I’m in some serious trouble. I really cannot believe I’m about to agree to this. “All right. Fine. But only when I’m here. Or Cade.” I don’t know who’s more surprised—me, or her. She blinks at me, owlish, and then smiles.

  “Thank you.”

  “Show me how grateful you are. Open your legs for me, sugar.”

  She doesn’t do it for a second, but then she gradually releases the tension in her legs, freeing my arm. In doing so, she’s given my free rein to proceed at my own pace. Pulling her panties to one side, I carefully dip my fingers into the slick, wet heat of her pussy. Her face blossoms into an expression of horror when I raise my fingers to my mouth and suck on them.

  “Shit no! Don’t. Don’t do that!”

  I smirk mercilessly. “Why not?”

  “I already told you! I haven’t showered since this morning. I’m gross. I’m—I’m dirty.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, you are not dirty. You are fucking perfect. You pussy looks, smells and tastes incredible. I’m literally fighting with myself here. I wanna bury my face in there and make you come all over my tongue. It’s driving me insane.”

  Sophia’s face loses all color. “You just…can’t, okay? It’s too embarrassing.”

  I laugh. “I promise you, sugar, one day very soon you’re gonna be begging me to light you up with my tongue. You’re gonna crave it more than air. In the meantime, fine. I’ll just use my fingers instead.”

  She looks like she wants to argue with that too, but I slide my fingers inside her before she can get another word out, and the look of sheer pleasure on her face has me fist pumping on the inside. She’s so responsive. She reacts to my every tiny movement. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s the perfect sexual partner for me. I love to know how the girl I’m fucking is feeling; making a woman moan is the most basic but greatest pleasure in my life. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

  Sophia moans for me even as I’m thinking this. Her breath catches in her throat, telling me that I’ve hit the right spot.

  I wonder what she’d do if I did try and make her come properly right now. She’d be freaked out, no doubt. It’s not a normal sensation for a woman. She’ll feel like she’s about to pee everywhere and that will shut her down instantly. No. We’ll have to wait on that one. If I get my way, which I definitely intend on doing, then there will be plenty of other times to adventure into unknown orgasm territory.

  Sophia’s muscles spasm as she tries to fight against the sensations rolling over her body. It’s the most amazing thing, watching her wage this kind of war with herself. It’s a war she won’t win, because no matter how angry it makes her, and how badly it makes her feel like she’s losing something somehow, she wants me. She wants my fingers inside her, and she wants my tongue working over her clit.

  It’s not long before my own wants start to make themselves known. I want to fuck her. I shouldn’t even be thinking about that—I’m in no position to be undertaking that sort of physical exertion—but sometimes the human body can shock and amaze. Or rather, be annoyingly stubborn and persistent until it gets what it wants. I could make Sophia come now if I wanted to. It wouldn’t take much. She’s ready to tumble over the edge, and all it would take from me is a little extra pressure, and a little more speed. I hold off, though. She makes a stifled groaning sound when I stop altogether.

  “You want something significantly bigger than my fingers inside you, sugar?” I ask, keeping my voice low. Her pussy tightens around my fingers, and I know the idea excites her.

  “You’re not…sticking anything weird inside me,” she says, her voice hoarse.

  I can’t help it; I chuckle under my breath. “Now why would I want to do that when I have a perfectly good, perfectly hard cock ready and waiting?”

  Sophia glances at me down the length of her body. Her hair is mussed and gathered about her face, and her lips are plump and swollen…so fucking sexy. She lifts one eyebrow, arching it for me. “You really do have a death wish, don’t you?”

  “If I do die, make sure Cade gets my bike.”

  “Why don’t you just…not…” She can’t finish her sentence, though, because I
’ve started circling my fingers inside her again, and it apparently feels really good. She’s gonna feel a million times better when I fuck her.

  I can’t hold off any longer. My blood is roaring in my ears as I stand up and take hold of her thighs, pulling her roughly down the couch toward me. I still haven’t taken her panties off, but there’s something really hot about having them pushed to the side, exposing her pussy, so I leave them on. Sophia watches with wide eyes as I push my boxers down over my hips, and then kick them off.

  I take my cock in my hand, slowly pumping my fist up and down the hard muscle, shivering slightly at the pressure. It really isn’t normal that I’m feeling this way, but if I don’t get myself inside her so I can feel that perfect little pussy of hers tightening around me then my balls are going to explode. She probably doesn’t even realize she’s doing it, but Sophia’s digging her fingernails into her thighs, causing the flesh under her nails to turn from blushed pink to white. She wants me. She wants me bad. She doesn’t look at my cock, though. It’s like she’s afraid of it or something. Give her a few weeks and she’ll be intimately acquainted with it. This coyness will be long gone. I’m willing to put money on it.