Defy You: A Brother's Best Friend/Age Gap Romance (Rebel Ink Book 3)

by Tracy Lorraine

  A smirk pulls at his lips, and I know I’m right.

  “You’re an idiot,” I laugh.

  “I was so fucking pissed at you that night. If I’d have known how you were going to change my life, I might have been a bit nicer.”

  “Nah, it was hot.”

  “It was? You never told me that.”

  “Why would I? Your ego doesn’t need stroking.”

  He shrugs, looking back down at my hip.

  “What else is there?” I ask, straining to see the ink that disappears around to the bottom of my arse and thigh.

  “I’m not telling you, you’ll have to find it.”

  “You’re a pain in the arse.” I narrow my eyes at him and all he does is laugh.

  “Let me wrap you before I start on my next job?”

  “I thought you were done for the day.”

  “I am. But you’re half naked on my chair. I’m not letting you off until—”

  “DAD!” a high-pitched voice screeches on the other side of the door.

  Our eyes collide as my brows pull together.

  “Excuse me, you can’t just…” Biff shouts, sounding as shocked as I feel as footsteps stomp down the hall.

  Spike is up and off his stool in seconds. He has the door open before I have a chance to get off the chair.

  I grab a towel that he’s thrown over the arm of the sofa and wrap it around my waist so I can follow him out without flashing everyone. I might want to show off my new ink, but not quite like that.

  “Emmie, what the hell are you doing?” D barks, standing in his doorway, his large frame looking even more terrifying as he stares down at the young girl.

  “I’m moving in with you,” she sasses, dropping a giant bag at his feet. “She’s a fucking bitch, and I can’t live with her anymore. I fucking hate her,” she seethes.

  “Emmie,” he sighs, his hand lifting to run through his hair as he tries to switch lanes from bad boy tattoo artist to father.

  “I didn’t know D had a kid,” I whisper to Spike, who’s standing beside me, watching the show.

  “He tries to keep his lives separate.”

  “Why?”

  “Because what Emmie is saying isn’t entirely false.”

  “Oh.”

  “Please don’t talk about your mother like that,” D says, although his face is pulled tight, telling me that while he might want his daughter to be more respectful, he clearly agrees with her.

  “Why? You can’t stand her either. Please, Dad. You either let me stay with you or I’m taking off.”

  “Em—”

  “No, don’t Emmie me. I’m sixteen. I can do what the fuck I like, and you know it.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” D mutters, looking up for the first time to see us all staring back at him. “I guess you’d better come in, then.”

  He stands aside and allows her to slip past him, bending down to collect her bag before glaring back at us all.

  “Get back to fucking work. The show’s over.”

  Are you ready for D?

  PLAY YOU is releasing on 17th December.

  Need more of my Rebel Ink boys?

  Make sure you PRE-ORDER INKED my K Bromberg Driven World/ Rebel Ink crossover novel about Corey, who you first met in Hate You.

  Keep reading for a sneak peek!

  Acknowledgments

  I can’t believe that book number three in this series is done. I loved Kas from the moment she appeared in Hate You. I knew she was hiding a little firecracker under her nervous façade when she arrived to make her announcement to Zach. I’ve had so much fun with her defiance. And Spike, gah, he’s so damn sweet.

  This book took a much darker turn than I was expecting and opened up so many new avenues that have been spinning around in my head, driving me crazy!

  I love these tatted up bad boys so much, and I’m so excited to dive into the fourth book in the series. I’ve been dying to discover more of D from the moment he welcomed Biff to Rebel Ink.

  As always, I need to say a massive thank you to so many people for helping me to make this possible.

  Michelle and Sam for alpha reading, and my incredible team of beta readers for falling in love with Kas and Spike with me.

  Evelyn, as ever for whipping both me and the story into shape.

  Darlene and Athena for proofreading and polishing it up for me.

  And finally, my readers for allowing me to create these worlds and spend my days immersed with my crazy characters.

  Until next time,

  Tracy xo

  Also by Tracy Lorraine

  Falling Series

  Falling for Ryan: Part One #1

  Falling for Ryan: Part Two #2

  Falling for Jax #3

  Falling for Daniel (An Falling Series Novella)

  Falling for Ruben #4

  Falling for Fin #5

  Falling for Lucas #6

  Falling for Caleb #7

  Falling for Declan #8

  Falling For Liam #9

  Forbidden Series

  Falling for the Forbidden #1

  Losing the Forbidden #2

  Fighting for the Forbidden #3

  Craving Redemption #4

  Demanding Redemption #5

  Avoiding Temptation #6

  Chasing Temptation #7

  Rebel Ink Series

  Hate You #1

  Trick You #2

  Defy You #3

  TBC #4

  Rosewood High Series

  Thorn #1

  Paine #2

  Savage #3

  Fierce #4

  Ruined Series

  Ruined Plans #1

  Ruined by Lies #2

  Ruined Promises #3

  Never Forget Series

  Never Forget Him #1

  Never Forget Us #2

  Everywhere & Nowhere #3

  Chasing Series

  Chasing Logan

  The Cocktail Girls

  His Manhattan

  Her Kensington

  Co-written with Angel Devlin

  Hot Daddy Series

  Hot Daddy Sauce #1

  Baby Daddy Rescue #2

  The Daddy Dilemma #3

  Single Daddy Seduction #4

  Hot Daddy Package #5

  B.A.D. Inc. Series

  Torment #1

  Ride #2

  Bait #3

  About the Author

  Tracy Lorraine is a M/F and M/M contemporary romance author. Tracy has just turned thirty and lives in a cute Cotswold village in England with her husband, baby girl and lovable but slightly crazy dog. Having always been a bookaholic with her head stuck in her Kindle, Tracy decided to try her hand at a story idea she dreamt up and hasn’t looked back since.

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  Keep up to date with Tracy’s books at

  www.tracylorraine.com

  INKED Sneak Peek

  A Driven World / Rebel Ink Crossover Novel

  INKED

  Chapter One

  Harlow

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Bailey, my best friend and roommate, asks the second she finds me sitting on the couch with a blanket over my lap, a tub of ice cream in hand and a rum and Coke on the coffee table.

  “Err… Friday night in?” I say, my brows drawing together, trying to figure out if I’ve forgotten something. The look on her face and the way she’s standing impatiently with her hands on her hips sure points to that.

  She’s just finished a twenty-four-hour shift at The House, caring for her boys, so I was expecting her to take up residence on the other couch with her wine while we caught up with The Bachelor.

  “It’s Austin’s birthday,” she says with a roll of her eyes.

  “Right.”

&nbs
p; “We’re going out. We’re meeting everyone at Rush in…” she pulls her cell from her back pocket and looks at the time, “in like… an hour, so we need to get our shit together.”

  Before I have a chance to argue, she’s standing before me and pulling the ice cream from my hand.

  “Come on, H. Move that sexy ass and go and find a hot little dress to wear.”

  After depositing the tub on the coffee table, she rips the blanket from my lap and attempts to pull me from the couch.

  “Really?” I sulk. “Austin won’t care if I’m there or not, I barely know the guy.” We might work for the same company, but it’s not like we spend any actual time together, other than the odd night out.

  “I told him you’ll be there.”

  “But you didn’t think to tell me,” I mutter, eventually going easy on her and standing.

  “I could have sworn I’d mentioned it.”

  “When could you? You’ve hardly been home this week.”

  She shrugs. “Well, you know now. It’s going to be a great night.”

  She ushers me out of the living room—thankfully after I grab my drink. I have a feeling I’m going to need it.

  When we get to my room, she allows me to get ready alone, which is a relief. The last thing I need is a Bailey makeover for tonight.

  Smoothing down my silk top, I add a layer of gloss to my lips and slip my feet into my shoes.

  Bailey’s still sitting in front of her mirror when I join her in her room thirty minutes later.

  “How are you ready al—no, no, no. You can’t wear that,” she says looking at me over her shoulder in the mirror. I look down at my skinny jeans and black blouse.

  “Why not? It’s perfectly fine.”

  “Yeah, for an afternoon with your aunt.”

  Minus the height of my heels, I can’t argue with her.

  She spins on her chair, and I get a look at her dress—if it can even be described as such. It’s fire-engine red; I swear I’ve got underwear that covers more skin.

  I run my eyes over her, suspicion beginning to stir in my stomach. “I feel like I’m missing something. This isn’t just a night out for Austin’s birthday, is it?”

  “His cousin’s coming.”

  And now, it all starts to make sense.

  “The British one?”

  “Yes! I can’t wait to hear him say my name,” she swoons, getting this far-off look in her eye.

  I shouldn’t be surprised—she’s been telling me about him for quite a few weeks now and trying to convince Austin to introduce them.

  “You mean moan your name,” I mutter.

  “Harlow, I’m not some easy piece of ass, you know.”

  “Really?” I ask, my brows lifting, my lips curling in amusement.

  “Okay, so maybe I am, but only for the right guy.”

  “Riiight.”

  I watch as she gets up from her seat and walks toward her wardrobe, thankfully pulling her ridiculously short dress down in the process so I don’t have to see her easy ass.

  “Now, let’s see what I’ve got.”

  “Oh no, B. You’re not getting me in one of your dresses. They barely fit you, they’ll never cover my ass and tits.”

  “Have faith, girl. Have faith.”

  Sadly, I have very little. I love Bailey, but at times she has questionable taste. Our styles are opposite in every way, not just with how much skin we deem acceptable to expose.

  “Yessss…” she squeals, and my stomach drops into my heels. “This will look killer on you.”

  She pulls out a scrap of navy fabric and holds it up in front of me with a wide smile on her face.

  “B, you won’t catch me dead wearing that.”

  “Just try it on. It’s a little big for me.” I don’t see how that’s possible, seeing as it looks like it’s a size zero from this distance, but I keep my mouth shut. “It’ll be perfect. And,” she adds, an idea hitting her, “it might help with that little situation you’re in the middle of.”

  “I’m not in the middle of anything,” I say, swiping the hanger from her because I already know that fighting with her on this is pointless. I may as well just try it on, prove it doesn’t fit, and then hope she’ll allow me to revisit my wardrobe for a dress that will cover what God gave me.

  “It’s been what? A year since a guy so much as touched you.”

  It’s been almost a year and a half since my last failed attempt at a date, but I refrain from correcting her.

  I shimmy my jeans down my legs and carefully pull my blouse off before laying them out over Bailey’s bed. “What?” I ask when she shakes her head at me.

  “You know it is okay to sometimes leave clothes in a pile on the floor, right?”

  “I’m a neat freak. You could have to deal with a hell of a lot worse than me following you around and tidying up after your messy ass.”

  She rolls her eyes and hands me the dress once I’m in only my underwear. Deciding that pulling it up might be the easiest option, I step into the fabric and attempt to drag it over my hips. The material has more stretch than I gave it credit for, because it skims happily over my curves. I pull the straps up my arms and put them into place over my shoulders before looking down.

  “Okay, you are so wearing that. Have you seen your ass?”

  “Weirdly, no,” I sass, looking over my shoulder at the mirror behind me. I nod, because I can’t deny that the fabric hugs it pretty nicely.

  “You gotta lose the bra though.”

  “Nope. Not happening.”

  Bailey’s hip juts out and she rests her hand on it as she stares at me in a ‘go on, try and argue’ stance.

  “There’s enough support in the dress.”

  “I’m sure it’ll hold them up just fine, I’m more worried about flashing someone.”

  “Making your mission a sure success.”

  “I’m not on a mission. I’m perfectly happy as—”

  “Nope. You need a man-induced orgasm. End of.”

  I know I’ve been a little uptight recently, but it’s not my lack of male attention that’s causing it, and I doubt a night with one will solve the issue.

  Bailey must see my shoulders drop, because she walks over and takes my hands in hers. “I know you’re worried about her. I am too. But sitting around the house feeling guilty about not being able to do more isn’t going to help in any way. No matter the results, you still have a life. You may as well at least attempt to enjoy yourself.”

  “I guess.” I don’t feel all that enthused, but I know she’s right.

  “Now, drink this,” she says, handing my glass back to me. “Then let the girls free, and we’re out of here.”

  I tip my glass to my lips and swallow what’s left before doing as I’m told. I’m soon following Bailey out of the house toward the awaiting car. Despite my earlier disinterest, tingles of excitement start to ignite in my belly. I can’t deny that the dress looked good once I turned and got a proper look at myself in the mirror. I also can’t deny that I’m currently showing more boob than I have to anyone outside the bedroom in a lot of years.

  Shaking thoughts of my past from my head, I climb in the car as Bailey begins flirting with the driver. Just because I’m dressed up and showing a little skin, it doesn’t mean I’m going back to a time in my life I’d rather forget. I’m just going out for a night of drinking and dancing with my best friend. It’s exactly what I should be doing. I’m young with no ties, a Friday night out for a colleague’s birthday should be a normal thing to do.

  Pushing aside my worries, I look at Bailey, who flashes me a wide smile, and I try to relax.

  “Tonight’s going to be great. Did I tell you that Rylee managed to secure the VIP section for us thanks to her… connections,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. I groan as I think of her boss, Rylee and her famous boyfriend.

  My heart starts to race. “A-are they going to be there?” I try to ask as casually as I can.

  “Please don’t tell me you
’re still scared of being in the same building as him?”

  “I’m not scared, B,” I argue, although I’m not entirely sure that’s true. “I just always make myself look like an idiot every time I’m anywhere near him. I turn into a fumbling teenager with one glance in his direction.” My cheeks heat at my admission. I don’t need to tell Bailey this—she’s witnessed my mortifying behavior, time and time again when it comes to him. Colton Donavan. My teenage heartthrob, incredible Indy driver, and all-around nice guy. It should be illegal to be that good looking, kind and generous. I was obsessed with him in my former years, thanks to discovering a trashy magazine on the coffee table after school one day with him on the cover. No matter how many years have passed, it seems the second I’m in his vicinity, I return to that time in my life where I had no idea how to control my raging hormones or to keep a leash on my mouth.

  “Oh, I know. Why do you think I demanded you come? You’re tonight’s entertainment,” she says with a laugh.

  “B,” I squeal, swatting her shoulder playfully as she teases me. “I’ve no idea what’s wrong with me.”

  “I get it. He’s… captivating.” Her eyes darken as she relives the one moment of her past that she’ll never let me forget. “And his kiss,” she says on a sigh.

  “Oh, get over yourself,” I chuckle. “You know full well that you got passed up that night for Rylee and haven’t stood a chance since.”

  “I know, and I still stand by the fact that I rocked his world so much that night that he lost his mind a little after. I mean, why wouldn’t he want more of this?” She gestures to herself with a pout.

  “No idea, B. No idea.”

  “Well, I’m over it.” I laugh; with the number of times she brings it up, I beg to differ, but I’m not going to point it out again. “I’ve got my sights set on a British banger tonight.”