Bella Ink (1Night Stand Series)

by Dean, L. C.

  “Okay. Hurry.”

  He waited until she closed the door behind her then rolled off the bed with a growl. The high-speed computer on the nearby desk fired up in seconds. A few clicks pulled up info on her father and the jury who found him guilty of murdering his wife. A few more clicks and he found the bastard’s best drinking buddy, the one who’d testified Sandra Monroe had been having an affair and the boyfriend must have beaten her up. All an obvious lie to protect Bella’s father. And still, the state had given the lying ass a seventeen-year-old girl to raise. A grainy black and white photo popped up beside the name. After years of alcoholism and self-abuse, her ex looked old enough to be Bella’s grandfather. The most recent article said he’d been imprisoned for repeated DUI offenses and wouldn’t be eligible for parole for another four years. A sick sense of satisfaction settled over him. At least the shithead couldn’t hurt anyone else.

  He didn’t intend to hunt the guy down, but if he ever got the chance, the dipshit would pay dearly for hurting his Bella. His?

  Shutting down the computer, he tried not to think about the morning. Chances of her running were far greater than the possibility she might let him into her life. But…he shot a quick glance at his watch…he still had a few hours to prove she needed him. Very doable.

  ***

  After stripping, he climbed onto the bed and waited for the bathroom door to open. When it finally did, Bella walked toward him, a little shy, but the spirit had returned to her eyes. He patted the mattress beside him. “Come here.”

  She stopped, hands on her hips, naked and glorious. “Why?”

  “Because I want to torture you until you cry my name and plead for release.”

  Her pert nipples tempted him, and he struggled to focus as she crawled across the bed. “I don’t beg easily, mister.”

  He grabbed her and rolled her hot body beneath him. “I disagree. I’ll have you screaming in minutes.”

  Laughter lifted her smile and his heart. “And if you don’t? What’s in it for me?”

  “Do you need more than a mind-rocking orgasm?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, if I win and make you beg for it—”

  “In how long, specifically?”

  “Ten minutes.”

  “Okay. Go on.”

  He claimed a brief kiss then continued. “If I win, you spend a whole week with me. No strings, but no running away.”

  She scowled. “I have to be in Daytona in three days.”

  “No problem, I’ll go with you.”

  “And if I win?”

  “I’ll back off and let you leave like you say you want to. I won’t try to contact you after you drive away tomorrow morning.” His chest constricted at the thought of it being over. If she won, he’d have to force himself to forget her and move on. “Deal?”

  “Who’s going to keep track of the clock?”

  He took off his watch and opened the stopwatch feature. Setting it to zero, he laid it beside her. “When you call my name, I’ll hit the button.” Kissing her gently, he prayed the stubborn woman would let herself go, but something told him it would be a real fight to get her to give in.

  Ink bit her lip and closed her eyes. An entire week of the man above her, no strings, sounded like heaven. What a joke. A guy like Jet would spend every moment looking for a way to rope her down. Still, she wanted it, and for the first time since she became Ink, she thought about giving up instead of fighting.

  Warm lips closed over her nipple and sucked with an easy pull as a calloused hand stroked over her side to cup her hip.

  She groaned and tugged at his hair until he released her breast and nailed her with his sexy grin. I’m so fucked! “I didn’t agree yet.”

  “I know. Just thought I’d warm you up a bit first.”

  “Cheater.”

  His hand slid over her hip and belly, dropping enticingly between her legs. “So agree.” His thumb pushed past her outer lips to glide up and down her slit with languid strokes, edging close to but not touching her clit. “Come on, Bella. What are you afraid of?”

  You and your possibilities. She shivered. “Not a damn thing, cowboy. Set your timer.”

  Within seconds she knew she was going to lose. His gentle touch ignited fires he wouldn’t put out. Need raced through her, coiling tighter and tighter. She lifted toward him, trying to rub against his hand or push her breast deeper into his mouth, but he countered her every move with a kiss or caress more arousing than the last.

  He nibbled and licked down her body, stopping to explore her belly button and the hypersensitive dip of her hip. When he bypassed her aching pussy and kissed his way over her leg, she nearly ended the contest before it got rolling. He sat back on his knees and massaged her foot, rubbing months of stress and years of grief away with his thumbs. “You are so gonna lose, Bella. Your pussy’s practically weeping for a kiss.” He nestled the arch of her foot over his thick cock and picked up her other one.

  “Looks like I’m not the only one who wants relief.” She flexed her toes on his rock hard shaft, loving the way the satiny skin felt against her.

  His gold-tipped lashes fell for a moment. “Suddenly, I understand foot fetishes.”

  Jet removed her toes from his crotch and began the tantalizing journey back up her other leg. By the time he reached her core, moisture trickled from her and her entire being hovered on the brink of screaming.

  She glanced at the stopwatch. Less than six minutes. How is that even possible?

  He didn’t give her time to contemplate her weakness. His tongue explored, slowly and gently at first then fast and demanding.

  A groan slipped from her throat. “Yes. Like that. Oh—” She was almost there, if he’d press a bit deeper, maybe a little harder.

  Then he stopped. Son of a bitch! She grabbed his hair and tried to jerk him back into position.

  “Ask me to let you come, sweetheart.”

  “Fuck off.”

  He chuckled and returned to torturing her. A single finger penetrated her pussy but quickly left to circle and press the gathered moisture against her anus. Nerves she rarely allowed anyone to touch flared to life. She bucked upward, lifting her clit to his lips, but he only blew across the heated flesh. Tremors of unrelenting need coursed through her.

  “Ask nicely and I’ll give you what you want.” His finger tip breeched her backdoor, and she cried out, riding the intruder, wordlessly begging for relief, as her natural lubricant trickled down to ease his way.

  Jet groaned, his left hand digging into her thigh to steady her. “Say it!”

  His tongue returned to her clit. His finger left her, circled her rosebud to wet her further, then stretched the resistive ring again. Blood pounded in her veins, and her clit throbbed with her pulse. Relief hovered just out of reach. He would give it to her. He promised.

  The tip of his tongue pressed over her aching nub, and she prayed he’d given in, perhaps he would let her come without begging, but then he stopped again. She gripped the sheets to keep from attacking him. “Damn it, Jet.”

  “Cursing does not count, sweetheart.”

  Her body screamed; nerve endings locked painfully, waiting to fire.

  “Come on, Bella, let me love you.”

  Love. The word added to the cravings roaring for fulfillment, and a sob, damning and obvious, betrayed her need. “Do it. Let me come.”

  With a grunt he shoved inside her, knuckle deep, as he sucked on her clit, but jerked away once more to leave her teetering at the brink. “Beg. Oh, God, please. I have to know I won. I can’t let you back out. I’ll make you scream. I promise. Please, my Bella.”

  The irony of him pleading for her to beg didn’t escape her, but she could not stop the words from leaving her lips. She needed to come, not just for relief. She needed to come for him, to please him. “Please, I want…. I’m so close.” A sob caught in her throat. “Please, Jet, suck me, fuck me, love me…whatever you want. Please.”

  He latched onto her clit
with his teeth and bit gently. Finger-fucking her ass while his tongue danced her into blinding oblivion.

  Jet held her close. Spasms clenched her enticing little anus, and her pussy and clit quivered against his mouth. Bella arched beneath him, screaming his name again and again as he prolonged the orgasm. The moment she started to drift back to earth, he rose to his knees, bracing a hand on either side of her hips, and slammed his cock into her wet pussy.

  “Jet!”

  He buried his left hand in her hair and pulled her head back so she could not avoid his mouth as he claimed her. My Bella. His to have and protect. He fucked her hard and fast, the way she liked it best, and soon she was thrashing beneath him. He couldn’t stand it. He shoved as deep as he could go and ground his pelvic bone against her. She came again with soft cry. Her sweet pussy clenched, milking his control. He gave in; orgasm swept over him in a heady wave as her arms circled his ribs and pressed him to her heart. Right where he wanted to be.

  Chapter Seven

  Bella awoke feeling boneless and content despite the fact Jet hadn’t allowed her much more than a couple hours down time. The man was insatiable. A shiver of remembered pleasure shook her. Madame Eve had delivered; she had given her a clear memory of Jet to replace the clouded one from before.

  He pulled her closer, possessive even in his sleep, and she pressed a kiss over his heart. She had promised him a week but couldn’t do it. If she stayed, or let him come with her, she’d get attached. Bad idea.

  She had to go. He’d be pissed but he’d get over it and move on with his life. Marry some good girl who would clean his house and make him Sunday dinners with the family. She stifled the sobs rising in her throat and eased from under his arm.

  He caught her wrist, his eyes still closed. “Don’t go.”

  Her stomach lurched. He knew her too well after such a brief time. “Shh, I’m going to the bathroom. Go back to sleep.” She kissed him lightly on the lips and his hand relaxed, releasing her as he drifted off.

  Jet hadn’t returned her clothes, but she didn’t care. She slipped from the cabin and took a hurried shower in the camper, washing away his enticing scent. Ignoring the useless tears running down her cheeks, she dressed quickly. She had to disappear. If she stayed until he woke, he’d realize how wrong he was, how much he would hate a woman like her in the long term. Her heart wouldn’t survive. She could not reinvent herself after Jet; she would forever be his Bella. She couldn’t risk it.

  Jet lay awake and listened as Ink fired up her powerful diesel and drove away. He’d known she’d run, could have stopped her, but she’d never have forgiven him. Already his chest felt like she’d ripped out his heart and taken it with her. His arms unbearably empty.

  He sat up and punched the mattress, fighting for control or a glimmer of reason. Ink was a wild filly. Caging her would destroy her. A blind man couldn’t miss that, but without someone to watch over her now and again, to provide a safe haven, she’d run herself into the ground. On the other hand, his Bella belonged to him, in his arms and in his bed, reminding them both what love felt like. Why couldn’t she accept the fact she needed him in her life—to protect her from her demons and provide a home where she could find comfort and still be free? Loving Bella Ink would never be easy. Still, it was a role he’d craved since the first moment she’d pinned those haunted eyes on him.

  Why couldn’t she understand? A long strand of chestnut hair curled where she’d rested her head during the night. He picked up the pillow and smelled it. Her perfume flooded his senses.

  Madame Eve had offered a glimmer of hope, and he’d swallowed the bait, hook and all. He should have known better. In a fit of anger he threw the pillow across the room. “Damn it to hell and back! Thanks a lot, Madame.”

  His phone signaled a text and he scrambled for it, hoping even though he knew it wouldn’t be Bella. He didn’t recognize the number.

  Doesn’t someone owe you a bet? ~ Eve

  How the hell does she know?

  He didn’t care. He had allowed Ink to shove him away once, had let Bella run this time. But no more. He no longer cared what he had to do. He would help his wild filly admit she loved him or at least wanted him, if he had to tie her up and make her beg over and over until she accepted where she belonged.

  Or until she convinced him she really wanted him gone.

  Epilogue

  Ink’s hand trembled. She shook it, fighting fatigue and the strain caused by guilt. She had walked out on a promise, reneged on a bet to the best man she’d ever encountered.

  “Are you done already?” The young woman on the table stared over her shoulder.

  She patted her back gently above the tiny butterfly. “Just changing colors. Do you need a break?”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  Too bad Ink couldn’t say the same. It had only been six days since she’d walked out on Jet. It felt like years. She ran a cloth over the girl’s tattoo. A few highlights and she’d be finished.

  The door to the camper opened, and she looked up into gorgeous hazel eyes as a large cowboy-biker filled her small space. His polished boots contrasted sharply with his weathered black leather jacket. Memories flooded through her. He looked so damn good. Angry and tired, but good.

  “Hello, Jet.”

  He crossed the few steps to her barber’s chair and flopped down, long legs sprawled. “We need to talk.”

  Her heart started a dance party in her chest. “I-I’m in the middle of something.”

  “Yeah, go ahead and finish. It’s not cool to leave when you have obligations.”

  Obligations. Another word to add to the avoid-at-all-costs list: expectations, possibilities, and obligations to large sexy men who could send her flying or break her in a snap. She shook off the need to run to him and turned away instead. “I have another appointment in ten minutes.”

  “I can wait.”

  Shit, shit, shit! No way in hell would she be able to focus with him around. “You could come back later.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  She forced herself to concentrate on the flecks of white and yellow tipping the purple butterfly’s wings with light. It took her twice as long to get it right as it should have, and her next customer leaned against the wall while he waited. Finally, she sat back and handed the girl a mirror. “What do you think?” Except for the swelling, the little bug looked almost real, poised for flight.

  “Oh, wow! Cool!” The girl jumped off the table and hugged her then spun to look in the mirror again. “You’re the best!”

  Jet walked up behind Ink and wrapped an arm around her waist. “I keep telling her the same thing, but she won’t listen.”

  “Thanks. Glad you like it,” she said, ignoring Jet’s comment but not the man himself. He felt so good, so warm and comforting. She wished she could lean into him, let him take the strain of things from her shoulders. “Okay, let’s settle up.” She glanced at the man by the door. Harley Davidson symbol clutched in the talons of an eagle—detailed and time-consuming. At least a three hour job, probably more. Jet would never wait. “I’ll be another five minutes tops. Have a seat in the chair.”

  She quickly figured the bill and took the girl’s credit card, but by the time she looked up, her next appointment was gone. What the hell?

  “Where’d he go?”

  Jet held the door open for the girl as she left and then locked it behind her. “I convinced him he would be better off rescheduling.”

  “What? Damn it, Jet. You have no right to mess with my business.”

  “You’re right.” He shrugged and ran his hot gaze over her. “When was the last time you ate?”

  She scowled and ran her fingers through her hair. Where the hell’s my band? She dug around in the desk until she found a ponytail holder and pulled her hair back from her face.

  “Are you going to answer me?”

  “I don’t know. Not long ago.”

  Jet snorted in disbelief. He caught her wrist and tugged her
to him. “Was it even today?”

  “Yes, I had some nuts after my first appointment.”

  “When?” He talked about casual things, but his touch wandered over her back in a massaging caress, and she melted against his chest.

  “Seven this morning.”

  “So it’s five o’clock and all you’ve eaten is a few nuts?”

  “I—” His big hands dropped lower to cup her ass, and she rose to her toes. “I-I…really can’t think when you do that.”

  He groaned. “Good. I’ve missed you, Ink.”

  Her stomach sank at the name. “What happened to calling me Bella?”

  “I don’t know. Is she here?”

  What the hell does that mean?

  Jet set her on the massage table and dug through her refrigerator until he found a bottle of sports drink and an apple. “Here, eat.”

  “Does this count as a meal?”

  “We can order real food later.”

  “Okay.” A thousand ways to apologize spun through her head, but not one of them seemed worth a damn. “What are you doing here, Jet?”

  “Came to collect on a bet.”

  Disappointment whirled through her. She’d figured as much but she’d hoped for more. “That’s it?”

  “Depends.” He swung his leg over the table and turned her to face him. A tender look she couldn’t interpret softened his face. “Who wants to know? Ink or Bella?”

  Even when he’s being insane, he makes me smile. She ran her fingers over the sharp stubble on his cheek. “You are aware we’re one and the same, right?”

  “Yeah.” Jet pulled her closer, lifting her legs around his hips. “But the way I see it, you’re sort of two. Ink, she needs me. She doesn’t sleep for crap without me, and she doesn’t eat—just lives on caffeine and adrenaline until she crashes.” He urged her to take a bite of the apple. “Now, Bella, she’s a different story. She doesn’t need me so much as I need her. You see, I’ve grown addicted to the way she calls my name when she comes, and the feel of her pressed against me when she sleeps. I love the way her face lights up when she laughs, and how I’m something special around her.”