Inked: a Dark Bad Boy Romance

by Paula Cox

  It’s impossible to focus on anything but Mack’s cock in me, but with the wind blowing up around our bodies, I get the small hint of leather and oil. Heat off of the motorcycle radiates around me, filling the air with steamy, intoxicating smoke. The silky smooth texture of the seat underneath my body caresses my skin, giving me something for my hips and stomach to bounce off of.

  Mack groans and grunts with each long, deep thrust into my waiting hole. His thick, gnarled hands smooth away the slight folds of my skin, tracing along my spine. Despite his gentle touch, there is something in me that hardens and burns all at the same time. It cries out to him, searching for him, desiring him in every way imaginable, like I want to devour him entirely. It’s the same feeling that I felt from under the table with his hands doing all the work. In fact, it might now be even stronger.

  My pussy begins to contract and seize, building to a breaking point. The vibrations in my chest move down towards where his cock is holding me, throttled. My blood pulses in time with my racing heart beneath my skin, thumping like a tight drumhead. I’m close—so achingly close that I can taste the sweetness of a massive orgasm in my mouth—but I hold onto the anticipation, pushing it ever-so-slightly down, trying to get my cum in rhythm with his. If we’re going to make love, we’re going to make love together, right here.

  Luckily, he isn’t far behind me. Mack’s grip on my hips becomes ironclad. He takes over, moving my hips in time with his. We slow suddenly, but the movements are firmer and more deliberate. That’s when I let myself go. My head swings back towards my shoulders, whipping the hair towards my side and back, yelping out in ecstasy. I expose myself to more of the night air while the heat of my orgasm rolls off of me.

  Mack pulls out quickly, and I instinctively thrust my fingers between my folds. As I rub furiously, extending my orgasm even more excitingly, his cock explodes onto my ass, white and sticky fluids dripping around the base of my spine. He grunts, and I look behind me to see him stroking himself emphatically, his head thrown back in a moment of pure pleasure.

  My own cum subsides, and I rub a little more gently, finishing off one of the greatest orgasms I’ve ever had. Mack exhales, gasping for air. As we both come down, we remain still, unsure of who should move first. Neither of us wants to break this feeling of peace and ecstasy. It’s just too delicious.

  Finally, Mack pulls away, giving me room to reposition myself. I swing my hips up and around so that I straddle the seat again with our knees touching another. Mack’s long arms drape around my back, pulling me closer to him. I can practically taste the beads of sweat that drip down from his neck to the center of his smooth, tattooed chest. I’ve never appropriately taken in the sight of his bare body, the lines of his muscles, the way his tattoos shimmer in the moonlight. I want to bury myself in him.

  I lean down, kissing his pink skin. He already feels cold to the touch, so much so that I have the urge to just pull him into me more. I drape my arms around his neck so that our hearts touch. In his ear, I whisper, “I never want to leave here. Ever.”

  I don’t think I’ve ever spoken this much vulnerable, painful truth in my life. The last week has been like walking slowly through hell, but this is the light at the end of the river of the damned. Here, in this field next to the highway, I had found some patch of heaven I really did not deserve.

  Mack ruffles my hair from the back, pulling it in towards him for a long breath. When he exhales he says quietly, “I know. I feel the same way, but we have to go back. You need to go to the house on the hill, and I’ve got club things to take care of. That is, unless you want me to come back with you.”

  I smile slightly, hiding it in the crook of his shoulder. There’s a part of me that screams “yes,” but I have to hold back. In this spot away from the city and our world, we’re nothing but two passersby making love to another. But back in the fake comfort of our lie of a home, we are at risk for more of the same attack. And I am just not ready to go back to that.

  My silence must speak for me as Mack pulls himself off the bike and pulls up his jeans. In a stoney silence, he puts his shirt back on and the jacket he threw off. I adjust my panties and my dress before moving back down towards the passenger position of the bike. He takes one long look at me with eyes that almost plead for me, but I look away, facing front towards the open road.

  As he walks back, I hear the buzz of his phone against his legs. Seconds later, my phone rings from its place in my purse tucked away in the bucket. Normally, this would be nothing, but the timing is suspicious. Something in my stomach drops as he grabs for his back pocket and I reach behind me towards the storage.

  Mack gets the news first. His eyes widen before he shouts, “What the fuck?”

  I quickly turn my phone on, nervous to see what was wrong. There are three texts in my inbox. The first is a picture of blood and a body—Rico’s. His gray hand rests upon a red plastic canister of gasoline. The picture taker holds out a lighter ready to go.

  The second text reads, “WE’RE NOT THROUGH” in capital letters. The blood drains from my face as I read the final one. It’s another picture of Rico still alive. He’s holding a tattoo gun from my shop while a bandaged and scarred Riley sits on my tattoo chair with his arm out. I pinch the screen, focusing in on the tattoo Rico is crudely drawing by gunpoint.

  It’s the unmistakable sign of the Knights, the tattoo that started everything—the circle with three lines. This could mean only two things: Rico was dead, as they had managed to kill every tattoo artist but me that ever put that circle to skin and that Riley was both alive and on the hunt. Those who received that tattoo had only one reason to get it—they were about to take a life in cold blood.

  The phone slips out of my hand, falling to the ground beside the back tire of Mack’s Harley. I look up towards him, his own face an open book of horrors. Even with my mouth dry, I manage to squeak out, “Riley’s back. We didn’t kill him. How could that be? Didn’t I—”

  “Don’t worry about that right now, Anna. We need to go find Rico before they—”

  His phone buzzes again as I run to his side. We both stare in horror at a picture from Riley to Mack. Engulfed in flames, we both make out the sign for his sister’s restaurant and the windows of my tattoo shop.

  CHAPTER 19

  All that remains of my buildings is a few piles of ash and rubble. A couple of walls still stand, along with their metal support beams, and imprints of chairs and pictures cast even darker shadows on the bare brick. But besides a few remaining, recognizable reminders, everything else has melted or vanished.

  When we arrived a few hours ago, the fire department were already there. They called it a two-alarm and seemed rather unconcerned, like all my shit burning down was nothing to them. I kind of lost my head for a second, so Detective Joey waved the chief away, realizing he was only angering me by downplaying the destruction. Everyone was treating me with kid gloves as they watched me boil with white-hot rage.

  First, Riley took my best friend, my right hand. Now Riley destroyed a building that I put my heart and soul in. It was a place where I made dreams come true for the two girls in my life. It gave my guys a steady income when they were ready to get out of the game or move on to a “real” career. It was proof that I was more than just this dark souled rider who cared more about territory than life and brotherhood. And now it was gone, smoking around me as if it never existed to begin with.

  “You got insurance on this place?” Detective Joey asks me as he tries to look anywhere but my eyes. “You could get plenty of cash on a fire like this. It may not come soon given that they’re going to rule it as suspicious, but you’ll get a payout four times the cost to build or buy it, that’s for sure.”

  I turn my head towards him, looking down at the growing bald spot on his head and the round tummy jutting out past his belt. When we met years ago, he was much more than that stereotypical po-po. Now he’s a joke, a waste of man drifting away in a crooked career under my payroll. Even with everything
spinning out of control around me, I can’t help but pity the bastard.

  “I couldn’t give a fuck about the money, Detective. All I care about is finding the fucker who did this to me so I can make damn well sure he gets the justice he deserves.” I again look above Joey’s head and towards Anna. She’s standing by her building staring blankly at the place where her office used to be. The fire detectives walked around in large rubber boots, stepping on remains of her drawings and sketches from past and future tattoos.

  Anna and I haven’t said a word since we got here. Now I wonder if we are going to go back to how we were last week when she wouldn’t be in the same room with me, let alone touch me. Losing what we had back on my motorcycle feels more like a violation than my buildings being burnt.

  “Well, that’s what I want to talk to you about, Mack. Are you wanting to give a statement, you know… like a real one?” He rubs those chubby fingers along the back of his spotted neck. He knows that I would never agree to this in most circumstances. Even bringing it up both questions my judgement and jurisdiction on motorcycle club type justice.

  He practically loses himself when I answer, “Yeah. I do. Do I need to come into the station or can we do it here? I’d rather stay around here until the rest of my guys return, if possible.” After the attack at Riley’s clubhouse, I know that finding him a second time won’t be as easy. If I can get the help of my police contacts, I can still take care of him myself when they get word of his location. I’m not too proud to ask for help with this.

  Detective Joey spins away as he puts a call into the radio strapped to his shoulder. I take the opportunity to walk over towards Kimmy. She looks more distraught that anyone else, but I wouldn’t blame her. This second restaurant was her baby. When I offered this space up to her, she had practically leapt into my arms in joy. I had never seen her so happy as the day I finally gave her the key. And I have never seen her as upset as when those dreams burned.

  I place a hand on her shoulder, but she pushes herself away. With her eyes still focused on the destruction, she says passively, “I suppose I should be happy that no one was hurt. Everyone keeps saying that. We got every diner out and all my staff is accounted for. But does it matter? It feels as if I died in there as well.”

  “We’ll rebuild it, Kimmy. I promise you that. I am going to find the guy who did this, and I am going to make sure he gets what he deserves.”

  She bites her lip tentatively before saying, “I know that you don’t think I understand what goes on around here and with your life. You probably think I don’t know about Daddy’s line of work either. But I’m not stupid, Mack. That club of yours and Dad’s led to this. If anyone deserves to be punished, it should be you.”

  “Don’t say that, Kim. If you know that, you also know that the only reason why you managed to get two restaurants open, attend the best culinary schools in the country, and get all the cheap labor available was because of me too. I never ask anything from you but a few free meals and you to be supportive.”

  She turns towards me, her arms crossed before her chest. Though she is nearly a foot shorter than me, she resembles a marble statue, firm in her place. “Oh, I understand that too. And I want to take it all back. Every bit of it. You can have each restaurant, and I’ll pay you back. If this is what your money gets, then I’d rather scrimp and save and live on the street than be a part of it.”

  “I am just doing what our dad wanted me to do. I am taking care of you the best damn way I know how.” Anger pulsates through me at her ungratefulness.

  Kimmy sighs as she replies, “You did what Daddy wants, but what about Mom? Did you forget about her too? Do you think she would want you to follow in Dad’s footsteps? She’d want you to settle down and cut this shit out.”

  “I’m doing what I was taught to do.”

  “Then stop and be a real man. Take care of your actual business. You got a girl there that loves you and cares for you, and all you are doing is destroying her world.”

  “You don’t understand what you’re talking about,” I shoot back defensively. Both of us look over to Anna who has gotten down into a squat to examine an overturned brick. She is talking on the phone, her mouth covered as if in even more shock she cannot fully register.

  “I may or may not, but I know when you’re hurting more than helping, and that girl is really hurting.” I feel my sister’s hand on my arm, turning me back towards her. “I want you to be happy, just as you want me to. You do what you need to do, but don’t do it at the expense of her. She didn’t ask for any of it.” Kimmy kisses me lightly on the cheek and lets go of her grip on my arm. She spots one of her workers, still dressed for dinner service, and heads towards him, her arms outstretched for a hug.

  I look back towards Anna. Tears are streaming down her face now as she looks frantically towards the crowd. For the first time, I’m seeing the real Anna, the Anna that isn’t just the no nonsense tattoo artist or the great partner in bed. I am seeing the Anna that needs something more than what I can give her.

  I force my feet to move, my boots to take heavy steps on the ashy sidewalk. I inch towards her until she finally spots me. Anna comes barreling towards me, her mouth whispering words I can’t make out until she is in my arms. “It’s my mom, Mack! She’s… she’s…” I lift her chin upwards towards me to force her to take a breath. “She’s in the hospital! She had a heart attack!”

  “What?” I can barely understand this. A fire and now her mom?

  “She called me earlier and left this voice message. I didn’t see it until a few moments ago when the doctors called. She was upset and nervous. I could barely understand her, she was talking so fast. There was something about guys on motorcycles circling the house. She was nervous and upset… and now a heart attack?”

  I pull out my phone, checking for any messages from the guys assigned to her. “There’s no word from the guys. That’s strange. They should have messaged me if she needed help or if there was sign of Riley’s guys. Something’s wrong here.” My pulse begins to tick faster. I start to notice that I am only one of a few of my guys around despite calling them nearly a half hour ago for an all-club status meeting.

  I look down to Anna, unsure of what to do. “I have to go. I need to figure out what is going on with the club. My guys might be in trouble.”

  “Your guys? What about my mom? I need to get to the hospital to see her, Mack.” She places her hands on my arms, holding me in my spot. Her eyes dart back and forth between mine, searching for some kind of confirmation that I will help her.

  I shake my head and peel her off of me. “No. No, Anna. We can’t go there. If they know she’s in the hospital, they will find her and be waiting for you there. It’s too risky. We need to get you back to the safe house without them noticing you. When it’s clear and we figure out where the club is, we’ll get you to the hospital. Until then, you’re staying put.”

  “You can’t force me to stay put, Mack!” she cries out. “This is my mom we’re talking about! She’s the only person in the world I have, and I have to be with her. She needs me!”

  “And I need you to be safe. Do you hear me? You’re not going anywhere.” I grab hold of her arm and drag her towards the cop car where Detective Joey is still talking into the receiver. I open the back door to the patrol car and push her inside. “Stay there,” I command her.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Mack? I can’t just bring some girl down to the stat—”

  “Shut the fuck up and listen to me.” I give the detective the address to the safe house Anna has moved into. My hand slips a few hundred bills into his pants pocket, making sure his silence remains. When I’m done giving instructions, I tell him, “If you want more, you get her home and you make sure she stays there until one of my guys tell you to go. They’ll wear the patch. No patch, no pass. You call me if something comes up or she tries to get out.”

  “What about the statement? What the hell am I going to tell my boss?”

&nb
sp; “Tell him I’m not cooperating. I don’t give a shit what you have to say. Right now, I need to handle club business, and then I’ll give you all the information you want from me.” I push him on the back towards the driver’s seat, forcing him my way. He grunts and grabs the door, flinging it open in frustration.

  Seconds later and I’m watching his car drive on by past the fire trucks and crowds of curious onlookers. Anna stares at me through the back window, her face full of grief and rage. She won’t forgive me for this, I know that now. How could anyone forgive another for keeping them away from their family in need? There’s nothing I can do to make up for this.

  All that Kimmy has said to me is true. I am hurting her, but I’m hurting her because I have to. If I could give her a normal life where we would go hand in hand to her mother’s hospital room with flowers and balloons, I would. But instead, I’m sending her in the opposite direction in the back of a getaway police car with little hope that she would ever escape from Riley or me.

  I go for my phone again, relieved that there are some messages popping in from various guys with excuses on why they’re not running to my call. Normal stuff—no ride, wife at work, etc. But then a message comes through that tells a completely different story: Ambushed at 11th Ave. Shots fired at us. 3 of ours hurt bad. Running to Doc. Where’s the rest?