Dark Ink Tattoo: Ep 3

by Cassie Alexander

  “Angela – we shouldn’t.” I must’ve looked stricken then because he took my hand down the front of him to where his hard cock sat inside his suit slacks. “I do want you -- I want to keep you here all day.”

  “Good, because I want to stay,” I said, stroking him eagerly. “Mark -- you make me feel safe. You don’t know how long it’s been.”

  His expression warmed – but he started shaking his head. “You have to go – you need to pretend to be living your life normally. They can’t know anything’s changed.”

  I followed him bodily, and kept rubbing my hand. “I wasn’t followed on my way here. I was careful.”

  He swallowed, his chest beginning to rise, and I could see him torn between his duty and his need.

  “Make it fast. Make it hard,” I pleaded – and he reached for his belt buckle with a growl as I hitched up my skirt.

  I barely had it above my ass when he took my ankles and hoisted them high, setting one on each shoulder, and then he was on me, pulling my panties aside to push himself in. He slid in all the way to his hilt, and I felt myself stretching deliciously around him – and then he started to pound, taking me at my word, no time for tease or build up, just the ferocity of desperate fucking, when one person needed to give and the other needed to be filled.

  I bit my lips to hold back the sounds I wanted to make, the small cries of surprise, the satisfied moans of pleasure – he wanted me – after everything I’d told him he still wanted me – wanted to be with me – wanted to be so deep inside. His hands were holding the chair over my head, and I was curled into a comma, it was all I could do to hold on. But I didn’t even need to come – I just needed to feel him inside me – then one of his hands snaked between us and he started to play with my clit with his thumb.

  “Mark –“ I protested in a loud hiss.

  He chuckled, but he wouldn’t stop – he redoubled his efforts, until his pounding was a steady rock and his thumb kept rubbing till it found the right spot which he knew when I kicked up against him, trying to get more of his thumb as he fucked me.

  My eyes closed and my feet pointed and my whole body tensed until I came for him, biting on my own hand to stop from screaming.

  He, however, had no such compunction – “Angela,” he growled, and I felt his cock stiffen inside me, ready to fill me with its load. “Angela – baby – Angela –“ he shouted, his hips spasming against mine, his cum pouring out, so much I would’ve sworn I could feel its heat pooling inside.

  He collapsed over me, breathing hard. We’d only taken less than five minutes, I knew, and yet I felt like I’d been safe for hours. Mark hauled himself up to kiss me. “How can you do that to me, every time?” He pulled back, sliding out, taking a tissue off the desk to clean himself.

  I lowered my legs more slowly. I loved being filled – I didn’t want to lose the sensation. “Won’t you get into trouble?” I was already wondering what kind of walk of shame I’d have to do outside. Mark’s office had windows. All the blinds were pulled, but there was no way a secretary hadn’t heard.

  He smiled and rose back up onto his feet, setting himself inside his slacks again. “It’s called Carrera Law for a reason. Also the walls are sound proof.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?” I protested, standing up to set my skirt back down. My panties were too thin a barrier to protect my skirt from his cum – I’d have to change clothes the second I got home.

  “It was too hot watching you try to be quiet. Which you weren’t, by the way, but the trying made me harder.”

  I flushed. “I’d have thought that was impossible.”

  “Then wait till the next time you’re in here, when you’re bent over my desk and I’m taking your ass on it.”

  My thighs pulsed together at the thought of it and warm things inside me sank. “Goddamn you, Mark.”

  He laughed and leaned forward to kiss me, far more chaste than anything that’d come before. “I want you thinking about that all day, Angela. None of your other problems, you hear me? The second you start to worry, I want you to start thinking about me taking your ass and filling it with my cock.”

  I wanted to tell him that was impossible, that the things I had to fear were far greater than the primal urge I felt when we were together. But right now, half-panting, with his cum leaking out and slicking my thighs, I genuinely couldn’t.

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  “Good,” he said, and grabbed my ass hard enough to help me imagine. “Go home, have a normal day, and I’ll talk to you tonight.”

  I leaned up on my toes to kiss him, then picked up my much lighter bag.

  Chapter 3

  I parked down the street from the Hogg’s Heaven, far enough that no one would associate me with my car, and walked in.

  My hair was done differently tonight, as were my clothes and my attitude. I wore my black cowboy boots, my darkest jeans and a black t-shirt under a leather jacket that was form fitting, utilitarian, not ostentatious. I scanned the bikes for clues, but members of the Pack weren’t fond of personalized plates, so I walked in.

  Amber wasn’t there, which was a good thing. But neither was my mark for the evening, Wade – one of the other members was behind the bar. I bellied up, well aware of the stink-eye I was getting, and leaned over when the bartender came to tell me to go.

  “I have a business proposition for Murphy – is he here?” I picked another of the Pack’s leaders at random, pushing my blood-luck.

  One of his furry eyebrows rose, disbelieving me. “Tell me and I’ll tell him.”

  I shook my head. “My boss said only me – and only in person.”

  “Your boss being?”

  Who was the scummiest currently? Vegas had a lot of churn, it was hard to keep up. “Jayson. From New York.” I’d done a tattoo on one of his underlings recently, who’d talked up his boss’s dark side, and I’d smelled the gun oil on him.

  The bartender measured me, as did the men in earshot on either side. “And the business?”

  I pretended to be bored. “Import, export. Your sort of thing. I’ll tell Murphy the specifics.”

  He wanted with all that was in him to blow me off, but instead he went into the back. After a few minutes he returned, smelling like a Cuban cigar.

  “Murphy says after the last time, your boss can go fuck himself – and you’re lucky that we don’t fuck you.”

  I leaned in to protest. “Come on, I can’t go back to Jayson with that –“

  The man to the side of me pulled out a knife and planted it into the wood between us. “You do, or you don’t go back at all.”

  I looked from him to the bartender, and pushed back in the way I thought a petulant criminal underling might, then walked outside. I had what I needed – Murphy was here.

  Under the streetlight outside a group of bikers were talking shop, holding beers in one hand and cigarettes in the others. You could still smoke inside in Vegas, especially at a place like this – but a lot of places had smoking pavilions out back, where one could shoot the shit in a civilized fashion, smoking underneath the stars. I walked down the street and then pulled left, coming up behind the rest of the strip mall. After a cursory glance to make sure I wasn’t seen, I jumped up and caught the edge of the GOLD 4 CASH’s awning and pulled myself up.

  The strip mall’s roof was sun battered, with a few scattered tarps held down by rocks to keep intermittent rains at bay. I kept low and near the center where anyone on either side would be hard pressed to see me, until I knew I was over Hogg’s. Then I crept towards the back and was rewarded with a plume of cigar smoke. Murphy. I smiled cruelly and leaned over to sight him.

  He was a short red-haired red-bearded man – looked almost like a dwarf from one of those fantasy movies – and he was pacing in a small circle, clearly agitated, listening to someone on his phone without answering except to say, “Yes. Yes.”

  When he was done he pocketed it and turned to someone under the awning where I couldn’t see.

&n
bsp; “You’ve gotta calm down, Murph.”

  “Easy for you to say – you didn’t have to do it.”

  “You could’ve said no.”

  Murphy stopped pacing. “Don’t pretend that –“

  “You’ve got free will –“

  “Fuck you, Daziel. You know the plan.”

  “Yeah. And Wade was in on the plan until Gray changed his mind.”

  “He’s in there because of us. I’m not turning my back on him.”

  “I wouldn’t either.”

  There was the soft sandy sound of a cigarette being quenched and the other speaker emerged. Daziel was long and lean and rugged, everything about him looked well-worn, from the bends in his boots to his shaggy salt and pepper hair. Well-worn in a prepared way -- and another of the ‘big-dogs’, according to Amber.

  Murphy came over and jabbed a finger up at him. “You picked a hell of a night to be out of pocket.”

  “Sorry for wanting to find someone a little taller to blow me.”

  “Goddammit, Wade’s dead, stop joking.”

  “Joking’s how I cope, brother. Always.” He fished in his vest and pulled out a fresh cigarette. “I don’t envy what you and the others had to do. Glad I missed it, honestly.”

  I inhaled the secondhand smoke deeply, contemplating. I could jump down there and kill them both easily. I had otherworldly strength. But I couldn’t torture and bleed one effectively without killing the other and there was always the chance that I’d kill the wrong one first….

  “And all over that whore. I can’t believe her pussy’s worth more than Wade’s life.”

  My ears perked. That whore – did they mean Bella?

  “It ain’t the whore. It’s the kid.”

  “Then we take the kid.” Murphy said, pounding a fist into an open hand.

  “But he don’t want it like that,” Daziel said.

  Murphy grunted. “Too much silver’s made him soft.” He reached into his vest and lit another cigar and went through the ritual of clipping it, lighting it, sucking the smoke deep. “I did the right thing, didn’t I?” he asked, after exhaling the first fragrant puff.

  Daziel did a whole-body shrug. “You did what Gray wanted. That’s close enough.”

  I rocked back on the roof. Now that I knew what they looked like, retribution was just a matter of time.

  Chapter 4

  Somehow, all day long, I managed to do what Mark’d told me to. I went home and showered, dodging my mother’s requests, and had Mattie salvage one of my appointments for the afternoon, blaming car trouble, which with my car was all too likely. Then I picked up Rabbit, went to the grocery store, got everything for dinner, and went home to start cooking like nothing had changed.

  Any time my mind wandered, I remembered Mark’s promise and the way his hand had clenched me. Like I was his.

  Only I’d been clenched like that before – by the man who was haunting me now –

  “Mom?” Rabbit asked, looking up from his coloring book on the dining room table. “Where’s my red crayon?”

  “I don’t know, sweetie. Can you use another color?”

  “It’s Santa mom. He’s mostly red –“

  I tasted the marina sauce I was heating. It needed salt. “Try pink. Or blue. Or green. Santa’s only limited by your imagination.”

  Rabbit shook all his crayons out so he could search them. “You wouldn’t want me to color a firetruck yellow would you?”

  “Of course not. That’s silly,” I said, making a face so he’d know I was teasing. “Also firetrucks are real.”

  Unlike Santa – but like werewolves.

  The doorbell rang and Rabbit sprinted for it – but I got there just in time, catching his shoulders and spinning him around to face me. “What’ve I told you about opening the door?”

  “Don’t do it, ever.”

  “Ever ever,” I said, staring straight into his eyes.

  “Mom, you’re hurting me,” he said, trying to shrug away.

  “Ever,” I repeated, pushing him back. I leaned up to the peephole – and saw Mark. I reached for the door and pulled it slightly open. “I -- thought you were going to call.”

  “I decided to visit instead,” he said, holding up a bottle of wine, and a bouquet of flowers. “Can I come in?”

  And I realized he was asking to come inside. He’d always gathered me up from here before, respecting the boundary I’d kept between my dating life and my home, we’d always stayed out, or over at his condo. But I’d never spent a full night away from home – and I’d never let him in.

  Until now. I stepped back, making room, giving him a tentative smile. “Sure. Do you like spaghetti?”

  He gave me a look, one eyebrow rising. “I’m Italian.”

  I laughed. “Perfect.”

  I heard the whine of the scooter engine as my mother pulled in. “Is this Mark?” she asked pointedly, looking between the two of us.

  “Yes, Ma’am.” Mark strode over and held his hand out. She shook it warmly.

  “Nice to finally meet you! Please, take off your coat, make yourself at home.” He grinned and slipped his jacket off, putting it on the back of a nearby chair. I noticed he was wearing a different suit than he’d worn this morning. At least I wasn’t the only one a little put out by our rendezvous.

  “Mom?” Rabbit asked from the other room, peeking around the wall. Brave when the door was closed, not so brave with it open.

  “Rabbit, this is Mark. Mark, this is Rabbit.”

  True to his namesake, Rabbit came out warily, his blonde hair tousled every which way.

  “Nice to meet you, Rabbit,” Mark said, with his sonorous voice, and held out his hand.

  Rabbit sized him up and then took it, shaking it like he must’ve seen on TV.

  “That’s a good shake there.”

  “Thanks. Who are you?”

  I bit my lips to keep from laughing, as Mark looked over at me. “I’m, uh, one of your mother’s friends.”

  “Oh – okay,” he said, then dodged around Mark to sit back at the table and keep coloring.

  * * *

  My mother was not so easily dissuaded. She wanted to know everything about Mark, where he’d grown up, what he did, if he liked it, the last president he’d voted for – by the time dinner was ready, the only thing she didn’t know was his astrological sign.

  “Really, Mom,” I said, trying to cut her off.

  “I just need to know what his thoughts are on global warming –“

  “Mother!”

  “We live in the desert, honey – it’s not going to get better here unless the world does –“

  Mark chuckled and gave me an amused look. “It’s okay. I’m a lawyer, remember? I’m good at asking – and answering – questions.”

  “The only questions I want answered now is, ‘Does this taste good’, with a side of ‘How was school today?’” I walked over to the table, pot in hand.

  “School was fine,” Rabbit said.

  “Just fine?”

  “Molly tried to beat me up again.”

  “A girl?” Mark asked.

  Rabbit hunched over a little, his body expressing his dismay. “She’s really mean. And twice as big as I am.”

  “She was held back,” I explained and squeezed Rabbit’s hand. “I’ll talk to the teacher tomorrow.”

  “That doesn’t do anything,” Rabbit protested.

  “I used to get beat up at school a lot,” Mark volunteered.

  Rabbit looked up at him, this man who made our dining room look small. “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How’d you stop it?” Rabbit asked.

  “Well eventually I grew too big. But I spent all of middle school hiding in the library for lunch – until I made enough friends to protect me. When you have more friends than the bullies do, you’re usually all right.”

  Rabbit considered this. “I hang out with Michael and Chapman, we try to protect each other.”

  “You’re
on the way then. I bet you’re not the only kids Molly’s mean too. Find out the other ones and help them out.”

  Rabbit nodded, shoving a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth. “This is good Mom.”

  I looked around the table at my motley crew. “Yeah, it is.

  * * *

  Once dinner was over, I had time to trim the flowers he’d brought. My mother’d made a show of going back to the TV to give us ‘privacy’ and Rabbit wanted to play Minecraft online with this buddies upstairs.

  “You shouldn’t have,” I said, clipping the second to last rose.

  “Hey, if they’ve been watching you, they know we’re dating. And me being here gives my driver an excuse to stay in the parking lot.”

  “Your driver?”

  “A friend of mine.”

  “Watching out.”

  “Precisely.”

  I felt bad for him, whoever he was, trapped outside in the cold in a car. “Should we take him some spaghetti?”

  “He’s made arrangements, trust me.”

  I settled the roses into a vase. “Did I overhear you telling my son to form a gang?”

  He laughed. “Not in so many words, no.”

  “Just checking,” I said, smiling over the roses at him. There was still the unopened bottle of wine. “Should we?” I asked.

  He gave me a wicked smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Then open this while I get Rabbit into the bath.” I handed him the bottle and a corkscrew and walked upstairs.

  * * *

  I herded Rabbit back and forth between his bedroom and the bathroom, until he was finally tucked in bed.

  “Mom,” he whispered, as I walked for the door.

  “What?” I’d already read him a short book – if he asked for a longer one I’d have to put my foot down.

  “What about my vitamins?”

  I stood there with my hand on the light switch. The temptation to let him skip a day was huge – I didn’t want to run down and then back up, that might invite questions. But I knew how bad my wolf was after a day. One day off, and I bet his wolf would have him egging Molly on, hoping for a fight.