JAMESON: Brothers Ink Tattoo (Brothers Ink Tattoo Series Book 1)

by Nicole James

  “I see.”

  “Do you? He inspires us. We all want him to be happy—it’s his turn. I want that for him. We all do.”

  She looked at him. “Someday he’ll find it.”

  Max took his eyes from the road. “I think he already has. He just needs to figure it out, sweetheart.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “Ever the matchmaker, huh, Max?”

  He chuckled. “A year from now, I’ll remind you that you said that.”

  She laughed and directed him down the street to her house. A moment later, he was pulling in the drive. When he put it in park, she opened her door.

  “Wait, I’ll walk you up.”

  “There’s no need. It’s raining. I’ll be fine.”

  “All right. I’ll wait until you get inside.”

  “Thanks for the ride, Max.”

  “You’re welcome, Ava.”

  She climbed out and dashed through the raindrops up the steps. Unlocking the door, she stepped in and turned to wave at him. He lifted his hand off the steering wheel, returning it.

  She closed the door and turned to drop her purse on the floor.

  That’s when she saw him—the scary biker from Brothers Ink was sitting on her sofa in the dim light of the table lamp.

  She whirled, grabbing for the door handle, hoping that Max was still in the drive, but he was on her in a flash, shoving her against the door and clamping his hand over her mouth.

  “What’s the matter, Princess? Aren’t you glad to see me?” he hissed in his sinister voice.

  She tried to turn her head, her mind frantic as she tried to think of a way to save herself. Her arm flung out feeling along the wall, and she felt the light switch that controlled the porch light. She frantically flicked it on and off repeatedly, hoping the biker wouldn’t notice what she was doing.

  ***

  Max backed out onto the street. As he cranked the wheel and shifted into drive, his eyes were drawn to the flickering porch light. He paused, frowning at the flashes. What the hell?

  He pulled back up the drive, put the truck in park, and jogged up to the door. Immediately, he could hear the struggling coming from just inside. Pounding on the door, he shouted, “Ava! Ava, open the door.”

  He tried the doorknob, but it was locked. He pounded again. As he was contemplating which window to bust in, he heard the lock flip open. He grabbed the knob again and pushed inside.

  Ava was leaning against the wall. Her shirt was torn, and she was sobbing.

  “Where is he?” Max snapped.

  She pointed toward an archway that led to a kitchen. He dashed through it. The back door was wide open. He ran out just in time to see a big black Harley in an alley behind her garage. The biker gunned it away in the rain, but not before turning to look at him. Max couldn’t make out his features, but he knew it was one of Ryder’s crew by the insignia clearly visible on the back of his leather vest.

  Max slammed the back of his fist into the doorframe as the roaring sound of the drag pipes faded into the distance. Then he went back inside and found Ava standing in the entryway to the kitchen.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  He moved to her and, taking her upper arms in his hands, drew her to the kitchen table and coaxed her down into a chair. He squatted in front of her. “Did he hurt you?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m okay. Thank God you came back.”

  “I saw the light. That was smart.”

  “It was all I could reach. He had me pinned to the door.”

  Max nodded. “You got any booze?”

  She looked at him blankly, but nodded toward a cabinet. “Top shelf.”

  He moved to it and came back with a glass and a bottle of tequila. He poured her a shot and held it out to her. She looked up at him and downed it, making a face.

  Max watched her closely. “Another?”

  She shook her head.

  He smoothed the hair on the top of her head. “I need to make a call. You sit tight, okay?”

  “You’re not calling the police, are you?”

  “No, not the police.” She stared up at him. He filled her glass and slid it toward her, disregarding her earlier reply, declining. “Be right back.”

  He moved into the living room, pulling his cell from his pocket, his thumb moving over the screen before he put it to his ear. It rang twice before Jameson picked up.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m at Ava’s. Brother, get over here, now. She was just attacked.”

  “What the fuck do you mean, she was attacked? Is she okay?”

  “Yeah, just get here.”

  Less than five minutes later, they heard a motorcycle roar up. At Ava’s panicked look, Max squeezed her hand. “It’s only Jamie.” She looked up at him questioningly as he stood. “Stay here.”

  ***

  Jameson barely took the time to drop his kickstand before jumping from his bike. He took the porch steps two at a time. The front door banged against the wall as he burst through. All he could think about was getting to Ava.

  Max met him in the living room.

  “Where is she?” Jameson demanded.

  Max put his hands up. “Calm down. She’s in the kitchen having a stiff drink. She’s shaken up, but she’s okay.”

  Jameson made to push past him, but Max put a hand to his chest holding him back. “It was one of Ryder’s crew. She admitted he’s been harassing her.”

  That had him stopping dead in his tracks as he felt his blood run cold. “What?”

  Max nodded toward the front door.

  Jameson twisted to look back at it, noticing for the first time the slanderous word. It looked like she’d tried to paint over it, but hadn’t used a second coat and the shadow of the word still showed through. A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

  “Didn’t want to admit it. For some reason she’s afraid you’ll be mad.”

  Jameson’s head swiveled back to Max, stunned, not believing what he was hearing. But he could see the reproach in the look Max was giving him, and he clenched his jaw.

  “Ryder’s’ crew, that needs to be dealt with,” Max growled.

  Jameson nodded. “It will be, count on it. But not tonight. Tonight is just about Ava.”

  Max nodded in agreement. “I tried to get her to come back to the farm with me. She won’t go.”

  Jameson pushed his hand off. “I’ve got this. Go home.”

  Max jerked his head toward the kitchen. “Don’t leave her here alone tonight. Not with that guy on the loose. Not till we catch him.”

  “Not a chance. Now go.”

  “Jameson—”

  “I’ve got her,” he reassured.

  Max nodded. “Okay.”

  Jameson walked in the kitchen, his eyes taking in Ava. “You okay?”

  She nodded, but remained uncharacteristically quiet, and that scared the hell out of him. Jameson stared down at her bent head, his jaw clenching while he waited for the sound of the front door closing. The moment he heard it, he was down on his knee in front of her, a million emotions warring inside him—fear, anger, frustration…and a ton of guilt.

  She put her face in her hands, but he wasn’t about to let her hide from him. He clasped her wrists, pulling them down. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

  He heard her whimper and sniffle, but she wouldn’t look up, and those sounds gutted him. His voice was soft as he pleaded, “Please, Ava.”

  Finally that cute little chin of hers came up, and she stared at him with eyes glassy with tears. She tried to fake a tremulous smile. “I’m fine. I don’t know why Max made such a fuss.”

  “Did he hurt you?” Jameson cut straight to the most important question on his mind.

  She shook her head.

  He studied her, wondering if he was getting the truth. “You can tell me.”

  “Can I?”

  “Don’t you know you can?”

  She shook her head again. “No, I don’t.”


  That had him pulling his chin back. The thought that she felt that way tore him up. “Why?”

  “And give you another reason to throw in my face about how I’m not cut out for this job, and what a complaining princess I am? No way.”

  He stood at that, so taken aback by her words. “What the hell are you talking about? Is that really how you see me? And what the hell does any of this have to do with work? A man attacked you.”

  She stayed quiet.

  “Max said it wasn’t the first time this guy has bothered you.”

  “No.”

  “I saw the door. Babe, why the hell didn’t you tell me?” When she stayed quiet, he pulled her out of the chair, his hands on her upper arms. His voice was soft, but determined. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She tried to pull out of his grip. “I didn’t want to be any more trouble to you.”

  “I’m supposed to protect you.”

  She looked up at him with wide, confused eyes.

  “You work for me. No man who comes in my shop is going to give a woman who works for me any trouble. Do you understand?”

  She just stared at him.

  “Ava?”

  She looked away.

  “Do you think I’d let anyone hurt you?”

  She shook her head.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  She shook her head again. “I can’t.”

  He pulled her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest, his hand stroking her hair. “Please, Ava. I need to know.”

  She spoke into his chest. “Max dropped me off. He wanted to walk me to the door, but it was drizzling and I told him that was silly. So he waited until I went inside.”

  “The guy… He was in the house?” He felt her head nod against his chest, and a wave of anger surged through him. Just the thought of someone breaking in and getting to her that way had his blood boiling. “What happened?”

  She pulled back and looked at him. “He was sitting on the sofa. I’d left a small light on. I’d taken two steps into the house before I noticed him. It happened so fast. I tried to get to the door, but he was on me so quick. Before I could even scream, he had his hand over my mouth and pinned me against the door.”

  “You knew him? Recognized him?”

  She nodded. “That biker who got the tattoo from Rory? It was his friend—the scary one who talked to me.”

  He closed his eyes, cursing, and then looked back at her. “I’m sorry. I swear to you, he won’t ever bother you again.”

  “I was so afraid.” She broke down crying, and he cradled her to him again. And then suddenly she was grabbing at his shirt, clutching him for dear life. His arms tightened around her, and he held her until she quieted.

  “Shh, baby. You’re safe now. I’m here.”

  He held her a long time.

  “You want me to call your sister?”

  She shook her head against his shoulder. “No, she’ll worry. I don’t want her to worry.”

  “Okay, honey. I won’t call her.”

  Finally, she tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. He brushed the hair back from her face, searching her eyes. He wanted to offer up more reassurances, but as he stared down into her big blue eyes, words failed him. They stared at each other a long time, and there was a wave of silent communication moving between them. He cared about her; she had to see that. Surely it was written all over him.

  And then he saw her gaze drop to his mouth, and he felt the room float away. She lifted the mere inches that separated their mouths. The brush of her lips was soft, gentle, which he allowed for about three seconds before he cradled her head in his hands and took control, deepening the kiss. He backed her into the nearest wall, and they kissed like two lovers who’d been parted for years, which was crazy, he knew, but he also knew it felt like exactly the right description.

  Finally, he broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to hers, trying to regain his control. But she blew that all to hell with her next words.

  “Don’t stop.” She clutched at him, trying to pull him back down. “Please. Don’t stop.”

  “Ava—”

  “Stay with me. Make love to me.”

  He stared down at her. “What?”

  Her arms were around his neck already, and she tightened her hold. “Please. I need you, tonight. I don’t want to be alone.”

  She needed him. For the first time since they met, she needed him, and not just to do the Gala or on some professional level, but on a personal level, the way a woman needs a man, and he liked how that made him feel. “I’m not going to leave you alone.” He paused to shake his head. “Sex doesn’t have to be part of it, Ava.”

  “Don’t you want me?”

  He frowned down at her, brushing her hair back. Of course he wanted her, he hadn’t wanted a woman this much in a long fucking time. But he didn’t admit any of that to her. Instead, he asked a question of his own. “You’re sure?”

  She nodded, her mouth coming up to claim his again.

  He didn’t hesitate. He was done fighting whatever it was that flared to life whenever they were within ten feet of each other. He couldn’t ignore it anymore, and he wouldn’t want to if he could. It was there, burning brightly, refusing to be denied. Perhaps it had been there all along, since the day he’d stormed into her office with that damned flyer. Hell, one day he may just frame that damned flyer.

  He hoisted her up, her legs naturally wrapping around his waist as he growled, “Which way?”

  She knew what he was asking. “Through the living room.”

  He carried her out of the kitchen, through the living room, and to the back hallway. He passed a bathroom and entered the door at the end of the hall. He didn’t bother with the light, but carried her to the queen bed he saw outlined in the shadows. He took her down to the mattress, coming down on top of her.

  She tore at his t-shirt until he was lifting off her to rip it over his head. He sat up fumbling with his belt, and she pulled her shirt over her head. He moved off her to undo the fastening of her jeans and yank them down her long legs. Then he crawled back up her body, his hands gliding over skin smooth as silk.

  Her back arched as her hands slid under herself, fumbling with the closure of her bra. He glided a hand under her, knocking her fingers out of the way to do the job himself, snapping it open with a flick. Then he pulled the garment free to toss to the floor with the growing pile of discarded clothing. He stared down at her, taking in her beauty in the starlight coming in through the curtains.

  Her arms wrapped around him, pulling him down. “Take me. Hard. Fast.”

  There was that urgency again. It was almost like she thought he’d reconsider and change his mind. No chance in hell, baby doll. To prove to her just how remote that possibility was, his hand reached down and curled around the scrap of lace at her hip, and with one swift tug, he tore it from her body. It got the reaction he was looking for. Her eyes widened, and she sucked in a gasp.

  Then he reached down freeing himself from his jeans and positioned himself between her thighs. He stared into her eyes. “You sure?”

  “Yes. God, yes. Please.”

  He thrust into her in one quick movement, and then held himself poised above her. She stared up into his face with big luminous eyes. “Tell me you want me, too.”

  “Can’t you feel how much?” He thrust his hips, driving his point home. “This has been a long time coming, hasn’t it?

  “Yes,” she panted. “Again.”

  He complied, sliding slowly out and then thrusting back in.

  “Again. Harder. Show me.”

  He nodded. “I’ll show you.” And he began to take control, increasing his pace and the power behind his driving motions until she was pushing with both palms against her headboard to keep from being driven up by his powerful body.

  When he noticed, his forearm slid under her back, he pulled out, rose up on his knees and with one swift jerk, flipped her to her stomach. Then that arm yanked her up to
on all fours as he got back into position and thrust home again.

  Her mouth flew open, and she moaned.

  His palm landed between her shoulder blades as he pushed her chest to the bed. Then his hands clamped around her hips and held her pinned while he powered into her.

  “You like this?” His words were sharp, his breathing heavy with exertion.

  “Yes. Don’t stop,” she gasped out, her fists curling into the coverlet.

  He took one big palm and smoothed it tenderly over her ass, the small of her back, and then up her spine as he continued to glide in and out. His eyes moved over the edges of the tattoo he’d put on her as it peeked around her side. His gaze wandered up all the untouched skin of her back, and he thought of all the art he’d like to put there. “Beautiful. Do you know how beautiful you are?”

  She moaned. “Jameson.”

  He slid his hand up the nape of her neck, his fingers threading into her hair, his fist closing around a handful to pull her head back slightly. “Do you know?”

  “Tell me,” she said breathlessly.

  “So fucking beautiful.”

  He was getting close. He could feel it. But he wanted her there with him. He released her hair. His arm moved around her, his fingers dipping into her wetness and sliding it all over her, finding just the right motion and tempo that had her frantic with need. Then he changed the angle of his thrusts slightly.

  “Yes. There,” she told him, her palms going to the headboard and her head burying in the coverlet.

  His breath was sawing in and out with his exertions. “You’re so fucking hot, Ava. I want you to come all over my dick. Will you do that, baby?”

  She moaned, nodding and thrusting her ass up higher, meeting every slam of his hips. His fingers drew the motions out until she was bucking against his hand. He had her hovering on the edge, and then over she went with a cry. He felt her wetness all over his dick as he plunged into her again and again. He clamped both hands around her hipbones as he powered into her until one final slam, and he exploded with his own orgasm.

  His hand planted in the mattress by her head as he leaned over her, his breathing sawing in and out as he let his weight drop down on top of her. Both palms glided along the coverlet as he rested on his elbows, boxing her in, his mouth nuzzling at her ear. “You good?”