Perfect Collision

by Lina Andersson

  Lisa turned towards him. “Your brother got the girl, and you didn’t even get some ink? You’re losing your touch, Mitch.”

  “I know! As a matter of principle, I have to get the other sister.”

  “Not going to happen.”

  “Just a taste?”

  “No!”

  “Any friends you can hook me up with? I’m short on fuck buddies at the moment.”

  Mac left them to go sit with Wolf and Vi instead. The banter between Mitch and Lisa had pretty much always been the same. Brick and Bear had worried they’d hook up and end up killing each other, but they never had. Never even been close, as far as Mac knew, and he usually knew about who Mitch nailed. They were just not attracted to each other, but had the same sharp intelligence and humor. It was never boring being around them.

  They’d had some pretty epic fights, though. One of the more epic ones ended up with Mitch superglued to a chair. They were actually around eighteen at the time, and the reason was that Mitch’d told Lisa he wasn’t going to college. It pissed her off that he refused to use his head, and she thought he would benefit from sitting still and thinking about it for a while. Mitch was pissed because he’d been wearing his favorite jeans when it happened, and Brick was pissed because it was his kitchen chair.

  Mac usually tried to stay out of their way when they had those fights.

  When Vi arrived at his place a few hours later, she looked nervous.

  “Did you know Lisa used to hook up Mitch with her friends?” she asked after dropping the bag on the floor. “She mentioned it in the car.”

  “Yeah,” he laughed. “Not her close friends, but it happened. In her defense, I think most of them asked her to.”

  “Still a bit strange.” She took a deep breath and then laughed. “Is it weird that I’m nervous?”

  “I don’t know,” he said and gave her a hug. “But I got a present for you.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “I felt like it. I was gonna give it for Christmas, but I’ll get you something else.”

  “Okay.”

  She sat down on the bed, and he took her present from his pocket and sat down next to her. Her smile grew when she reached for it. She opened it slowly and looked at the small jewelry box with big eyes.

  “It’s a necklace, Katze, not a ring.”

  “Oh, okay. I got worried there for a second.” When she took the necklace out of the box, she smiled.

  “It’s a Marauder top hat on a skull,” he explained. “Like the one we have tattooed on Old Ladies.”

  “I know.”

  On the brim of the top hat were the letters M’sG. It stood for ‘Marauder’s Girl’. On the Old Lady ink it was a W for ‘Woman’, but she was still a girl—his girl. She lifted her eyes from the necklace to him.

  “You want me to be your Old Lady?”

  “Eventually, I’ll definitely want you to, but I don’t want to push you, and I don’t want to ink you, yet.” He took the necklace and held it up. “So I had this done. It’s still my mark—if you wanna wear it.”

  “Yes!” She snatched the necklace back from him with a big smile and looked at it again. “Are the eyes diamonds?”

  “Yeah.” He knew he was grinning like an idiot. “Don’t read too much into it, I get a good price on diamonds.”

  He’d had it done with the jeweler they worked with in New York. It was a custom job—one of a kind.

  “I know.” She handed it back, turned around with her back towards him, and lifted her hair up. “Help me.”

  He did and gently pressed his lips to the side of her neck. She turned to face him, put her arms around him, and gave him a kiss.

  “I love it. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he smiled. “Think I can have a look at you wearing nothing but that necklace?”

  She smiled and pulled off her t-shirt. Just seeing the necklace between her collarbones made him rock hard. He moved down the cups of her bra and gave each breast a kiss. Her nipples were normally big, soft, and a light shade of pink, but the second he touched them, they pebbled to the size of a raspberry. Just a perfect size and hardness to circle with his tongue.

  “Take off the rest,” he mumbled.

  She did, and then caressed his face while she straddled his lap. He held her naked ass in his hands as she kissed him. He loved her ass almost as much as her nipples. It wasn’t big, basically two handfuls, but it fit perfectly in his hands, and he usually grabbed ahold of it when they had sex.

  He stood up and laid her on her back on the bed.

  “Any requests?” he asked, and she blushed a little before spreading her legs. “I wanna hear you say it.”

  “Head,” she whispered, “I want head.”

  He lay down and looked at her, giving the inside of her thigh a light bite before giving her a long lick. She bucked her hips towards him and let out a groan.

  Since she’d told him about her fantasizing about the sounds he made, he’d paid more attention to what she sounded like when they had sex, and she had a point—it really was hot as fuck.

  He played with his tongue all over and inside her folds, and he kept doing it until her legs were trembling. That’s when he stood up on his knees between her legs, tearing at his clothes. She sat up and helped him while panting, almost moaning.

  “Please,” she gasped once he was freed of his clothes, and she lay back down.

  He kissed her with a chuckle. “Have to admit, Katze, I really love hearing you beg.”

  Surprised, she opened her eyes and glared at him. “That’s sort of douchy of you.”

  “Yeah?” he laughed. “It’s sort of douchy of me to wanna hear how much you want me to fuck you? I think I can live with that.”

  “No!” she protested and wrapped her legs around him to try to flip them around. After a few futile attempts, he helped her. He liked her on top. “It’s sort of douchy of you to hold back on me.”

  “Just working you up, baby.” He grabbed her hips, and she sat down, taking him inside with a low groan. “I like you worked up and dripping wet.”

  She smiled and leaned down as she started to move on top of him. He sat up and kissed her jawline, gave the dimple in her chin a lick before moving further down, nibbling the side of her neck. He smiled when he saw the necklace resting in the hollow of her throat, and finally took her nipple—and actually most of her breast—into his mouth.

  He’d once told her that her tits were perfect mouthfuls. She’d looked hurt at first, but when he explained how fucking perfect he thought they were, she’d blushed instead, and now she liked to hear him say it.

  He turned them around and she smiled when he grabbed a fistful of her hair and kissed her before he started to move again. Slow, controlled thrusts, feeling her heat and wet without having to think about getting her home on curfew. Enjoying the feeling that if they wanted, they could go on all fucking night. She’d stay with him, sleep next to him, and he would definitely introduce her to morning sex.

  And they took their time. She came twice before he let go and made her come along with him when he finished with her on all fours, and his hands grabbing her waist. She fell down on her stomach, almost with a giggle, and smiled at him when he lay down next to her.

  “All good?” he asked as he pulled her closer.

  “All good,” she confirmed and played with her fingertips over the fading marks on his chest.

  He constantly had traces of her art on his upper body. It was her way of testing what would work or not work. She wanted him to get the perfect ink, which was kind of sweet.

  To him, it wasn’t so much trying out different designs as having her all over him drawing, frowning, talking, and making cute faces. It was relaxing. She’d tried to do some things on his legs, too. But having her between his legs—with her hands on the inside of his thighs, and her violet hair tickling his crotch—had meant it quickly turned into something else. Not that he complained, but she did. So now she stuck to the empty spaces
he still had on his chest, arms, and back.

  “Just so we’re clear,” she started, and he looked at her, “I’m not gonna move in with you yet.”

  “I know.” He kissed her nose. “Maybe spend a few nights a week here with me?”

  “Yes. Not all nights. I need to finish my special project for school and… you know. Stuff.”

  “Baby, I know.” He held on to the necklace and pulled her closer. He already loved the necklace on her. “And for the record, any discussions about you moving anywhere are between you and your dad. Not sticking my neck out on that one. He’d kill me if he thought I was pushing you to do that.”

  “Does he know about the necklace?”

  “Yeah.” He’d been relieved about how cool Bear was about it. Obviously he wanted Vi to have his ink, one day, but not yet. It was much too soon. “And no, it was not a compromise instead of a tattoo. I wanted you to have this first.”

  “I get it, it’s like an engagement ring.”

  “Exactly.” He put his arm around her waist. “And this, spending the night, it’s a good start.”

  “A very good start. I’ve been looking forward to this—and morning sex!”

  “Morning sex is good,” he nodded. “Very nice, and I already have plans.”

  “Good!” She eyed him. “Do you snore?”

  “Um, sometimes?”

  “Damn!” she muttered and put an arm round him.

  “What did your mom say about me?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. Is that okay? Maybe some day, but not now.”

  “It’s okay, honey. I never meant you had to tell me everything.” He gently stroked her hair and cupped her cheek, running his thumb over her soft lips. “Your mom isn’t gonna be stupid enough to try anything. She knew Debbie, she knows what happens to Old Ladies who fuck with the club.”

  Debbie’d been Bull’s first wife. She cheated on him, and the lesson he taught her was still, years later, a warning to Old Ladies. You did not fuck with your man or the club. Sure, Bull had been extreme, like he always was, and very few of the guys would go to those extremes. Mac sure as shit wouldn’t, but as a warning it was an efficient reminder.

  “Not really anything she can do, and she knows it.” She smiled at him, and he knew she kept smiling as he kissed his way down to her nipple and placed his lips around it. “Lisa did a violet daisy.”

  “I know,” he said and looked at her. “I saw it.”

  “She said she wanted a flower garden on her back, so I had to keep practicing.”

  “What else did she say?” he mumbled as he stroked his nose between her breasts and caught her other nipple in his mouth.

  “That I got the good brother,” she smiled and stroked his hair. “And the handsome one.”

  “So it’s you and me, Katze?”

  “You and me,” she confirmed.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

  Thought They Played on Eleven

  -o0o—

  BEAR WALKED INTO THE empty front room of Wicked Ink. He could hear them in the back, though. He assumed they were all busy and sat down to wait. Mac was in Englewood with Dawg, which meant he got the chance to pick up Vi for once. It didn’t happen often anymore.

  Since Ella’s visit, almost four months earlier, the three of them had established something of a routine. Mac almost always picked her up, and three or four nights a week he simply dropped her off at home. The other nights she stayed at his place. It wasn’t a fixed schedule, but depended on how late she was working, and how much she had at school.

  The only thing he’d insisted on was that they’d keep Sunday breakfast and that it would just be just the two of them. He wanted to keep it for as long as possible, and Mac wasn’t invited.

  They’d spent Christmas Day at Brick’s place, but to his surprise, Vi followed him home after dinner. She’d bought him gore and splatter movies, and they watched a few of them while eating the Christmas candy. He hadn’t commented on it, but appreciated it nonetheless. Next year, she’d be done with high school, and she already had a well paid job. It didn’t seem likely she’d still live with him the coming Christmas.

  Vi’s gift from the guys at Wicked ink had been a tattoo design they’d all worked on. It was a tree with big roots to show she was grounded, a big crown for her big heart and smarts, and the leaves were blowing off, transforming into birds, to show she could be free while still staying rooted. She’d almost cried when she showed it to him with shaking hands. It was going on her back, but they hadn’t had time to do it yet. Bear also suspected she was more worried about the pain that she admitted.

  He often talked to Sami about her, how she was doing. Despite being careful with praise, he’d admitted Vi was the most talented apprentice he’d ever had. He’d been drunk as fuck when he said it, but Bear knew he meant it.

  It wasn’t just that she was a talent, it was easy for her because she hardly ever hesitated or second guessed herself. Even without Sami’s help, she knew what she could or couldn’t do. To Vi, it didn’t seem to be much of a difference between inking on fake skin, a pig, or an actual human. She wasn’t more nervous just because it was a person.

  Bear thought part of it was because of the hyper-focus. Once she started, she just did it. She went through the usual stuff, was careful initially, and did a small line to begin with to let them feel it. She warned if it was in a sensitive spot, but her focus was always to make it look as good as possible. She didn’t hesitate to do something just because it could be painful for the customer.

  And just as Sami had drilled into her, she protected her rep. A few weeks earlier, Bear had overheard a discussion Vi’d had with a girl set on a tattoo idea Vi didn’t think would work. She’d tried to explain, drawn up pics, suggested alterations, and finally just flat out said she wouldn’t do it the way the customer wanted it. When the girl had started yelling, Vi simply said she didn’t have to do a tattoo just because a customer wanted one.

  Bear knew it wasn’t about tattoo artists only wanting people to get the kind of ink they themselves liked. When it was things that wouldn’t technically work, it was the sane thing to refuse to do it.

  He looked up when Trixie came out from the back with a customer following her. He waited as she got paid and saw the customer off, then she turned around and stared at him while shaking her head.

  “You are seriously not fulfilling your duties as a parent, man.”

  “What?”

  “Your eighteen-year-old daughter doesn’t know who Ronnie James Dio was. What the fuck is up with that?”

  “What! She doesn’t?”

  He’d never understood Vi’s music taste, and he’d heard more weird country than he liked to admit. He’d rather pull out his own teeth than publicly admit he thought some of it was good. He had a reputation to protect, and his own daughter not knowing who Ronnie James Dio was—that was bad.

  “Nope. We had a customer here today who wanted the Dio-logo tattooed on him, and she said she’d never heard about them or Ronny James Dio. The guy almost had a heart attack.” Trixie shook her head. “We had to endure the dude singing like ten songs, and that man could not sing like the Big RJ. It was bad.”

  “Sami’s really upset,” Vi said as she came out from the back rooms. “He said you needed to educate me in music.”

  He had to agree with Sami. Knowing who Ronnie James Dio was—that was basic music knowledge. She should fucking know about it, and she should fucking know the basics of metal if she was going to work as a tattoo artist.

  “We’re going home, and we’re gonna listen to metal, honey.”

  “Dad!!!”

  “They’re right. You’re eighteen, and I’m not gonna let you become any more grownup not knowing the basics. It would reflect poorly on my parenting. Have to agree with that.”

  “Word,” Trixie said with a serious, but very teasing nod.

  “One condition,” Vi said and pointed at him. “You’re gonna listen to what the doctor said.”

&nbs
p; He’d been to the doctor for a check up, and according to the doc he needed to lose weight and cut down on his drinking and smoking. It was probably just as well he hadn’t told the doc what drugs he occasionally used. He didn’t give a shit either way, but Vi had been all over his ass about it since then.

  “No deal. I’m not gonna turn into some guy with dreads and Birkenstocks.”

  “All I said was that we could have one, one, vegetarian day a week.”

  She’d made something called quorn the week before. He’d refused to eat it and had ordered a pizza before she’d even finished the speech about how he needed to eat healthier and why. He’d also muttered about it possibly not being all around bad if she moved out. Something they both knew was a flat-out lie.

  “Veggie Wednesday isn’t going to happen, Katze.” He caught her in a hug. “I’m too old to change, you know that.”

  “Fine,” she muttered.

  When they came home, she made some food, not vegetarian, and afterwards he took her into his room where he had his albums and the turntable.

  “Let’s start, Katze.”

  “You were serious?”

  “Honey, people do band tattoos. You’ll look like an idiot if you don’t know who Ronnie James Dio was. That’s even worse than not knowing who James Hetfield is.” She looked confused. “Jesus! You don’t know who James Hetfield is? For fuck’s sake, tell me you know Metallica!”

  “Of course I do!” She picked up an album in his vinyl collection. “What the fuck! What is this?”

  “Manowar.” She was holding ‘Anthology’; she stared at it and then started laughing. He couldn’t blame her; It was four oiled up guys wearing fur loincloths. They looked ridiculous.

  “Is this a joke?”

  “No!” He took the album from her and decided to start with it. “Okay, first song is ‘All Men Play on Ten.’”

  “Thought they played on eleven,” she giggled.

  “Glad you at least paid attention during ‘Spinal Tap.’”

  He watched her go through the albums while they were listening. She shook her head at some of the covers. She stopped at a Darkthrone album and held it up to him.