“Let’s take a shower, you have somewhere to be soon,” he announces as he rolls off of me.
I make a move to slide out of bed, but before I budge even an inch, I feel my body being lifted by Johnny’s strong arms. I wrap my arms around his neck and look at him. He grins and winks before he speaks.
“It’s only you, princess, and today we’re going to get my name branded on your body,” he murmurs. His nose skims the side of mine as we walk into the bathroom.
“What?” I breathe.
Johnny sets me down on my feet and goes about starting the shower while I wait for his answer. He doesn’t say a word as he strips me of my clothes, and then he does the same with his, leaving them all in a pile on the bathroom floor.
I stand in surprise, waiting as he steps into the shower and holds out his hand for me. I comply, taking his outstretched hand, and join him under the warm flowing water.
“You’re going to be tattooed in about an hour. My name is going to be inked on your skin, just like all the other Old Lady’s,” he explains.
“What does this mean, exactly?” I ask as my voice trembles with nervousness.
“It means that in the eyes of the club, you’re as good as my wife. No other man can touch you without my permission, and no clubwhore can talk to you. You have a place in the club with Kentlee, Brentlee, and even Rosie. You’ll be respected, and if something were to happen to me, the club would take care of you.”
“A tattoo is permanent, Johnny,” I murmur as his fingers massage shampoo into my hair.
I like this side to him, this gentle soft side. I haven’t seen it before, and I’m finding that it’s exactly what I need right now, after the night and morning I’ve had.
“Yeah, princess, it is,” he confirms as he cups the water in his hands to wash the shampoo out.
“That scares me. We’re still new,” I moan. The feeling of his hands on my scalp feels too damn good.
“It’s my way of keeping you safe and protecting you. I can’t always be at your side to physically protect you, so this is a way that I can do that while I’m gone,” he explains.
I think about his words and about their meaning. Protection. Johnny’s world isn’t like the world I’m from. His rules are definitely different than society’s, but there are rules.
I like that he’s thinking about me, my safety, and the future—a future that includes me. I reach up and slide my fingers through his damp hair.
“Okay. You’ll tattoo me, but can I tattoo you, too?” I ask hesitantly.
Johnny licks some droplets of water off of his bottom lip as his eyes search mine. Then he picks up my hand with his and places it on the inside of his left forearm.
“I want your name right here, Hattie,” he murmurs.
My hand contracts around his arm and my eyes connect with his. He’s completely and totally, one hundred percent serious. I bite down on my bottom lip and give him a nod.
Then, without thinking, I jump up and wrap myself around him. Johnny turns to press my back against the warm, tile wall, his eyes never once leaving mine.
“Does that make you happy, princess?” he asks with a light chuckle.
“The happiest,” I murmur before I crash my lips against his.
With little warning, Johnny fills me with his cock. I break free of his kiss and let out a long, deep sigh at the feel of his intrusion.
When he’s inside of me, it’s as if everything is right for just a few minutes. It’s like nothing else in the world matters, except him being inside of me; and there’s nobody on earth but the two of us.
“Your name will be inked on my body and my name on yours,” he mutters. “This means I’ll own you, Hattie. I’ll own all of you. Then soon, I’ll give you a baby to carry.”
I gasp as he pulls out and them slams back inside of me, but his powerful thrust isn’t why I’ve gasped. No, it’s his talk of children. I’m not ready. Not in the slightest. I tell him as much, or I try to between my heavy breaths and moans.
“I’ll fill you with a baby, Hattie—one day,” he whispers against my neck.
Then he ceases talking and slams into me against the wall, over and over and over again, until I scream with my climax and he follows shortly after, grunting with his. We quietly finish washing each other and then towel our bodies off before we both hurry to the bedroom to dress.
“The baby thing, did you mean that?” I ask as I pull my panties on.
“Yeah.”
“Johnny, look at me,” I beg.
He stops what he’s doing and looks at me, bare chested with just his jeans pulled up over his hips but left unbuttoned. He looks like a dream standing before me. He closes the short distance between us and wraps his hands around my hips before he pulls my body into his, crashing our bare chests into each other.
“No other woman on this fuckin’ planet I want to have my babies. Waited a long fuckin’ time to have you, Hattie. I’m ready to start my life with you. Now, not fuckin’ later.”
He doesn’t say anything else. His lips press against mine in a hard kiss and then he lets me go to finish getting ready, leaving me stunned at his words, but with a smile on my face. He’s rough and rugged, but he’s sweet at his core.
I slip on a pair of jeans and boots, along with a sweater, before I braid my damp hair. Then we rush out the door. I wrap my arms around Johnny’s middle seconds before he roars down the street on his motorcycle.
I enjoy the feeling of the cool wind in my face as we go through town. Just being wrapped around him, the feel of his hard body beneath my hands, I know that this is right.
Maybe I’m being a naïve and silly girl, but I don’t care.
I want him.
I want the way he makes me feel, and I want the way he touches me and looks at me to last the rest of my life.
So if I have to get his name tattooed on me, if I have to throw caution to the wind, then I’ll do it. And if it’s a big mistake, then it’ll just be a big mistake—but I won’t live my entire life wondering if this man was the man for me or not.
I’ll know.
Chapter Twenty-Four
DIRTY JOHNNY
Dragon’s eyes light up as soon as we walk through the front door of the tattoo shop. Then I watch as they drag down Hattie’s body and back up, a smirk tugging on his lips.
I narrow my eyes at him and his smile grows even wider. He reaches out as we approach and shakes my hand with a wink.
“Where’s it goin’?” he asks me.
I hadn’t thought about where I wanted my name on Hattie’s body, just that I wanted it there. I know where I want her name on mine, but I’m not sure where I would want mine on hers. I want it somewhere it’ll be seen fairly easily.
Kent and Brent both have their men’s names on their hips, and they can’t be seen unless they want them to be. Putting my name across her tit would be kinda trashy looking, and honestly, I don’t think Hattie would want that.
“Let’s go in the back room so we aren’t in public. I can show you what I drew up and we can try it out different places for placement,” Dragon suggests. I nod in agreement.
Taking Hattie’s hand, I pull her behind me, following Dragon to the back room. I guide her to the tattoo chair and grab one of the observing chairs against the wall, pulling it next to her. I tangle my fingers with hers, because I need to touch her for whatever fucking reason.
Dragon pulls out his stencil and it’s big—real fucking big. I look down at Hattie’s tiny body and I can’t imagine it going anywhere.
The word Dirty is written in big block letters, standing out from the rest. Johnny is underneath it in a cursive scroll.
Nothing fancy, nothing girlie, yet I already know on Hattie’s body it’s going to be sexy as fuck.
“I didn’t know she was so tiny,” Dragon chuckles, looking between Hattie and the stencil. “You want me to shrink it a little and put in on her hip?”
“Not on her hip. I want it on her lower belly, but that’s not
practical,” I mutter, thinking aloud.
“Why not?” he asks in confusion.
“I don’t want her to be self-conscious after we have babies if it stretches out or anything,” I say.
“Johnny,” Hattie murmurs, squeezing my hand. I look up at her in question. “What if I did it on my forearm, like yours?”
“We could eventually do a pretty colorful sleeve but keep your name in black ink?” Dragon suggests. My eyes widen.
I think about Hattie’s entire arm being covered in color and my cock twitches.
Yeah, I want that.
“Do it,” I grunt.
“Yay,” Hattie smiles, looking up at me.
She makes my heart pound in my chest. She fucking makes me feel. I’ve never had anybody who did this shit to me before, and I fucking like it—no, I fucking love it.
Dragon places her ink, and after a few adjustments, I agree on it and he starts. I expect Hattie to cry, or at the very least whimper, but she doesn’t.
In fact, she doesn’t seem fazed by the black ink being etched into her skin.
I watch her, waiting for the pain to register, but when she looks over at me through hooded eyes, it’s not pain that I see on her face.
It’s lust.
Fuck, it’s turning her on.
I have no doubt that she’ll be feeling the pain of the needle later, but right now she likes it, and I have to fight my dick from going hard at the sight of her.
“You gettin’ any ink today?” Dragon asks, oblivious to Hattie’s state.
“Yeah. Want Hattie’s name on the inside of my forearm too, same place,” I murmur.
“Goin’ the Sniper route, huh?” Dragon chuckles.
I don’t respond.
I remember when Sniper got Brentlee’s name tattooed on the side of his neck. Fuck, nobody could mistake that shit. They’d been in love for years with each other, though. Hattie and me? That’s a different story.
I just want to reassure her that I’m hers. I’m always Hattie’s and she’s always mine.
“What’s wrong?” she asks me.
“Nothin’, princess, why?” I mutter.
“You have that look in your eyes, and your forehead is wrinkled,” she says, lifting her free hand to press between my eyebrows.
“I’m good,” I lie.
I’m nowhere near good. I know that I want Hattie, and she’s the one that I want to carry my future children. She has everything I’ve always looked for in a woman, but there’s that nagging part of me, the one that wonders if she’ll continue to satisfy me.
I wonder if I’ll end up like my dad, holding something over her head so that I can get my kinks fulfilled. I wouldn’t dope her up, I’d never do that shit, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t guilt her into something, manipulate her somehow. I want to believe I’m better than all that shit, but I am my father’s son.
Suddenly, I feel like all of this is one big, giant fucking mistake.
I don’t want her name on my body, not now, because I’m not sure—I’m not sure of anything right now.
I hear both Hattie and Dragon talking, but it sounds like they’re underwater. I can’t understand them, and my heart starts racing, beating and pumping blood through my body like a motherfucking freight train. I stand and pat my pockets, looking for my smokes.
“Gonna smoke, be back,” I announce before I walk out of the door without looking back.
I walk outside of the tattoo parlor and inhale the fresh air, needing the bite of the fall weather in my lungs. Fuck. I close my eyes—what the fuck was I thinking?
How could I settle down with one woman?
How did I think it was possible?
I place my cigarette between my lips and light it, feeling the burn in my lungs as I inhale. The nicotine calms me and I sigh as my hands finally stop shaking.
Then I think about Hattie. I think about her light brown hair and her pretty green eyes. I think about her round face, and the way she smiles at me like I’m her entire world all the fucking time.
I think about how fucking hurt she looked when I stayed out all night long, like I had crushed her world. I contemplate how she would look if I left her, or if I told her I needed more, that she wasn’t enough—it would kill her, and her innocence that I love so much would be shattered.
Hattie is enough.
If she wasn’t enough, then I would have at least gotten hard when Serina and Tasha started going at it in front of me.
If Hattie wasn’t enough, then I would have fucked them, no problem and no questions asked.
I shake my head.
Fuck, I’m a prick.
A downright fucking prick.
I turn around to go back into the tattoo parlor. I’m getting my ink, and I’m going to step the fuck up because she deserves it. I don’t deserve her one bit, but she—she deserves a man who wants only her, who needs only her.
I’m going to be that man.
I’m going to break whatever chain my father started, I’m going to have a good woman at my side, and we’re going to have a clean family. I’m going to treat her the way she deserves to be treated, and I’m not going to have one fucking regret in life. Not one. Because I choose Hattie.
I take one step toward the building and then everything goes black.
HATTIE
Dragon rubs some goop on my arm and wraps it in plastic as he hands me instructions on my new addition. Dirty Johnny, etched into my skin.
I make a note to ask Johnny why they call him Dirty Johnny—how it all began. I know he’s dirty with me, but I also know there has to be more to the story.
I love it, though. Dragon is truly a talented artist, and I’m excited to show Johnny the finished product, if he would ever come back inside from his cigarette break. It seems like he’s been out there for at least an hour.
“You were a champ, babe. Hardly any bleeding, and you didn’t pull away or flinch once,” Dragon compliments.
I thank him, but I don’t tell him the truth.
I don’t tell him that the dull pain from the needle turned me on like nobody’s business. I know that I like it when Johnny’s rough, and when he bites me, but I had no idea how much I liked it.
I wonder if I asked him, if Johnny would test this pain thing a little with me. I don’t think I’d want anything too crazy, but it was hot.
“Your boy’s next. I’ll go and get him,” Dragon offers.
“No, I’ll run out there. You rest for a bit. Your hand probably hurts,” I smile.
“Thanks, babe,” he chuckles.
I walk outside and expect to see Johnny leaning against the building, smoking or fiddling around on his phone, but he’s nowhere to be found.
I furrow my brow and call out his name, but I hear nothing. Then I walk down and around the corner, thinking that maybe he’s doing something on his bike; but when I turn the corner, I freeze.
His bike is gone.
He’s gone.
I start to panic.
Johnny’s gone.
I don’t know if he’s left me or if something’s happened; all I know is that he’s gone. He’s gone and I’m standing on the sidewalk with his name freshly tattooed on my arm. I turn around and go back into the tattoo parlor in a daze.
“Hattie?” Dragon asks as his eyes roam my face.
“He’s gone,” I whisper as the first tear falls.
“Maybe he just went for some smokes at the mini-mart next door. Fucker lights up like a freight train, babe,” he suggests.
“He’s gone, and his bike’s gone,” I announce.
Dragon’s eyebrows shoot up. He then pulls out his phone and starts punching numbers before he brings it to his ear.
“No answer. Something’s not right. Sit here and I’m gonna call Fury,” he mumbles.
I watch as he walks out of the little room and into the hall before I lose sight of him. He’s right. Something isn’t right, but I have a feeling it’s me. I saw the slight panic before he went outside.
<
br /> He doesn’t want me anymore.
He spent all night long partying, and now he’s realizing that being mine, having my name on his body and his name on mine means that he can’t do whatever he wants anymore.
I want to believe that he was being truthful when he said that he wasn’t with anybody, but now…now I’m not so sure.
My insecurities are clawing their way to the surface and piling up all around me.
“Fury is sending Torch to come and pick you up,” Dragon announces a few minutes later.
“Why?” I ask as tears continue to silently stream down my face. I can’t stop them at this point.
“Don’t know, babe, but he said to sit tight,” he murmurs. He walks over to me and wraps his arm around my shoulders. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”
“I don’t think it is. He’s gone,” I sob, turning and burying my face in his chest.
Dragon wraps his massive, tatted arms around me and holds me to his chest, one hand in my hair at the back of my head, and the other pressed to the center of my back. His comforting is too much, and I continue to sob, soaking his t-shirt with my tears.
“Hattie?” A deep voice murmurs. I turn toward the direction of it, pressing my cheek against the wet mess I’ve made of Dragon’s shirt.
“Yeah,” I sigh.
The man in front of me is probably one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen. He has light blue eyes, the color of water, and short, dark hair. He’s clean shaven and his jaw is chiseled.
His face looks like it was carved out of stone. And he’s tall—really tall. His muscle is extremely defined, and if I hadn’t been head over heels in love with Johnny since I was sixteen years old, I would definitely want to know more about him.
“I’m Torch. I’m here to take you to the clubhouse,” he says, keeping his voice soft and gentle.
He puts out his hand, approaching me like one might approach a scared animal. Aren’t I just that, too? A scared, helpless animal. I sigh and take a step back from Dragon, then my eyes stop on the gigantic wet spot my tears have left on his shirt. They widen as my cheeks turn hot with embarrassment.
Notorious Devils MC Complete Collection: BoxSet Page 78