Inked: A Bad Boy Next Door Romance (3 page)

“Yeah. I own my own shop, Inked Envy on Second Street.” He points at the serpent tattoo on his arm. “I gave myself this one.”

I gawk. The whole thing is so beautiful. “You did this yourself?”

He nods. That’s impressive. I know next to nothing about tattoos, but I know that had to be hard.

“How?” I can’t even imagine how long that took. I look at his right arm and see there’s no tattoos on that arm.

“I’m good at what I do,” he says matter-of-factly, without a trace of bragging in his voice.

“Wow.” Unconsciously, I reach out to touch his arm, feeling along the length of the tattoo. His muscles bulge underneath my touch, and once again, sparks seem to pop off his skin.

“Your hands feel so soft,” Zane says, grabbing hold of my wrist and pulling me in close. He runs his finger up along my arm, shooting off more sparks. “I could fix you up, free of charge. Would you like that?” It takes a moment for me to realize he’s asking about a tattoo.

I have an immediate urge to say yes, but I don’t, and I stare at him, trembling in his grasp. In that moment, I’m more afraid than I’ve ever been in my life.

I feel like he has absolute power over me. His question could have been, “Will you come home and have sex with me?” and I would have said yes.

That’s it. I have to get away.

“Sorry, gotta go!” Not giving him a chance to respond, I jerk out of his grasp and quickly disappear into the crowd of people grinding on the dance floor. I look around for Katie, but don’t see her beneath all the flashing lights. Moving as fast as I can, I make my way into the club’s hallway and stop to rest against the wall.

I breathe in and out, trying to get a hold of myself, my legs shaking. All I can think about is how close I came to losing control, and Zane had only asked if I wanted him to give me a tattoo!

“Where do you think you’re going, sweet thing?” asks a deep voice that makes my knees weak.

Oh no.

I try to make a run for it, but suddenly I’m sandwiched between the wall and a rock-hard body.

Fuck.

“Did I say you could leave?” Zane growls in my face. His voice is soft and sexy, not meant to be a threat, only a dare to stay. The smell of whiskey is even stronger on his breath at this distance. Instead of disgusting me, it only makes me more turned on. His hot breath makes my nipples pebble. My core is soaked and my pussy is clenching around nothing. This isn’t good. I fucking
want
him. Every inch of my body craves him.

“Y-y-you’re not my daddy,” I stammer, ignoring every instinct in me.

“No. I’m not.” Zane gives me a cocky grin, moving in closer. “But I can be... if you want.”

I’m almost on fire. My dress seems to be rising up my thighs, practically inviting Zane in. “What are you talking about?” I have to close my eyes and will the naughty images away.

“I think you know,” he whispers in my ear.

I do know. And it would be so easy to give in, so easy to just melt in his arms. And he
wants
me. He
chased
me. That has to mean something.

“You know you want it.” He says it as if his words are a dare.

He's right. I do want it. So fucking badly. My body is burning. Every inch of me wants him inside of me, even right here in this hallway. I don’t care who sees.

Zane inches in closer as if coming in for a kiss. If his lips touch mine, I know it’s all over.

I can’t do this!

“Get the fuck off me!” I yell out as the thought of him sliding my dress up and fucking me against the wall becomes a very real possibility.

At the last possible second, I summon every ounce of self-control I can muster and shove Zane away from me. Then I take off like a jackrabbit down the hall, and out the club, not daring to look back.

I
watch
Maddy’s back as she practically runs from me. Her hands grip the hem of her dress as she pulls it farther down her thighs. She’s speeding off like I just told her I was a hitman and she’s first on my list.

What the fuck?

I stand dumbfounded in a lust-filled haze. She’s leaving? It takes a moment and the sounds of the club filling my ears to realize she’s really gone. I was two seconds away from crashing my lips against hers and inching her dress up to give her the release she needs. Well maybe not here, where anyone could watch, unless she’d be into that.

She pushed me away. What the fuck did I do? I replay everything in my head, but I don’t know where I crossed the line.

She had to know I’d follow her out here. Shit, I know she didn’t think I’d let her get away that easy.

And she was loving it. I know she wants me. Or wanted me. Fuck!

By the time I think about chasing her and head out to the exit, she’s nowhere in sight.

I push past the crowd and jog my way to the front. She’s not here. I check every dark corner, but Maddy’s fucking gone.

I search the dance floor and find her friend. Fuck me, but I can’t remember her name for the life of me. Did she even tell me?

She’s dancing with a group of women, having a blast and not paying attention to anything.

I have to grab her arm to get her attention.

She whips around like she’s gonna bitchslap me until she recognizes me. Her eyes dart around me and she looks confused. Shit, that’s not a good sign. I was hoping Maddy went to her before going wherever it is she went.

I scream over the music, “I lost your friend!”

“Fuck!” she yells out and starts pushing past me and everyone else, making a beeline for the door.

I follow her outside. Shit, did I really chase her off to the point where she felt like she had to leave?

I turn to look at her friend who’s now got her cell phone to her ear. She’s got one finger shoved into the opposite ear to drown out the sound of all the people still waiting in line. The bouncer’s watching us, but I give him a quick nod.

“You good?” he asks with his brows raised. I give him a short nod. I’m not really good though. This fucking sucks. And I feel like shit for pushing her away like that.

“Goddamn it,” her friend mutters after looking down the sidewalk and shoving her phone into her clutch.

She makes a move to go back inside.

“Did she leave?” I ask her.

She shrugs her shoulders and says, “Sorry.” She gives me a sad look and a tight smile before making a move to open the door. Fuck.

I get it for her, opening it wide enough, but I don’t go in.

“You think you could give me Maddy’s number?” I ask her with a little embarrassment. I don’t think I’ve ever asked for a chick’s number before. And definitely not from her friend. She looks like she’s considering it, but then she scrunches her nose and shakes her head.

“I’m sorry.” She really does look apologetic. “I’ll bring her ass back here though.” She nods her head confidently.

“That’s alright.” I watch her go in as my hope of seeing Maddy again dwindles.

I stand outside the club feeling the crisp cold air of the night against my skin. The bass of the music beats in my ears and it pisses me off.

Anger replaces confusion. Not at Maddy, but at myself. I knew she was too much of a good girl. I needed to play it smooth and slow, and instead I went for the kill too fast and freaked her out.

But damn, I couldn’t help myself. Feeling her body against mine… I stifle my groan.

I just had my hands all over that lush ass. I could practically feel how tight that hot pussy was gonna be cumming all over my dick. Speaking of my dick, the damn thing is currently hard as fucking steel in my jeans.

What the fuck did I do? She was all over me. She wanted me just as much as I wanted her. She felt so good with her curvy body pushed against mine. And she would’ve felt even better impaled on my dick. She was so fucking responsive, and I can only imagine what she’d be like under me.

I take another look around the crowd and then back down the sidewalk to the left and the right. She’s not there. Fuck! I pushed too hard, too fast.

I run my hands through my hair and clear my throat.

Well, shit. That fucking sucks. I close my eyes and remember the soft, sweet sounds of her moans. My dick jumps in my pants and I have to turn and head back inside.

I need a drink.

I make it halfway there when a hot platinum blonde with a tight ass and perky tits stops in front of me.

“Hey handsome, I was looking to get out of here.” Her perfect white teeth bite down slightly on her bottom lip, drawing my eyes to her mouth. Vixen is the first term that comes to mind as I take her in.

“I could use a ride,” she whispers in a low, sultry voice.

Her lips are almost the same shade of red as her dress, and I have to admit that any other night with my dick this hard, I’d take her up on her offer, but not tonight. Not after Maddy.

“Not tonight.” I give her a tight smile and move to walk past her. Her eyes narrow and she looks like she’s gonna yell at me for some perceived insult, but then she remembers where she is.

“Fine, asshole,” she grumbles as she pushes past me with her fake tits brushing my forearm.

I watch her walk off sashaying her ass and going right for another Koranav member. Yeah, she just wants to get fucked by a mobster. Doesn’t matter who. I grit my teeth, feeling more agitated than anything else.

As I head to the back, all the thoughts I’ve been avoiding start coming to the surface. Fuck, I was feeling so damn good tonight.

Maddy took that away. She was a beautiful distraction. But she fucking took off, and with every step I take I want more and more just to drown myself in a bottle to forget this shit. She could’ve distracted me tonight. She could’ve taken that pain away, even if it was just for the night.

I walk back to the bar and my stool is taken by some redhead who’s got her legs spread and wrapped around Jackson’s thighs. His tongue is down her throat and his hands are up her dress. Usually I don’t give a shit, but tonight it pisses me off.

“Wanna buy me a drink?” I turn my head to the left as I rest my hands on the bar and see a second redhead standing there. She’s sweet and cute, not like the viper in the red dress from a minute ago, but I can’t get Maddy out of my head. I give her a tight smile, 'cause it’s all I can manage.

“Sure thing.” I keep my voice even and casual. A smile lights up the broad’s face. She’s gonna be real disappointed in a minute.

I yell at Tony, “Her next drink’s on me!” and then turn back to her. “Have a good night, sweetheart.” I leave cash on the bar and head out, ignoring the protests from the pretty little thing I’m leaving behind.

At least she got a free drink out of it. She’ll find someone else. I’m just not in the mood.

I turn on my heels, giving Tony a curt nod when he catches my gaze. He looks like he wants to ask a question, but I’m not one who likes to talk. He should know that by now.

I walk out the back exit where it’s less crowded and get in my Audi without a second thought.

Damn, tonight could’ve been so fucking good.

* * *

T
he drive is an easy one
. I live close to work, and play close to work, too. It makes life easy.

I twist my hands on the leather steering wheel and grip on tighter. I fucking hate today. Not what happened, just the fucking date. It always reminds me of things I'd love to never have to think about again. Every year it seems to get worse.

As if knowing I’m feeling like shit, Nikolai calls. His name and number pop up on my dash and whatever fucking music was playing is replaced by a ringtone. I push the button to answer as the streetlight turns green.

“Nikolai,” I keep my answer short, and my voice even. He’s the underboss, and in a way the one person who saved me. I hardly talk to him or to the boss, Vlad. But every year he reaches out, without fail. He’s the only one who knows how much it affected me.

“I’m sorry, Zane; I forgot.” His voice is etched with sincerity, and I believe him. “I went to the club expecting to find you there, but they said you just left.”

I trust him alone out of all the Koranavs. He never shows emotion. Never. It’s something that makes you appear weak in this line of business. Even Vlad’s anger and hot temper make him look like a loose cannon in my eyes. But on this date every year, Nikolai always opens up to me. He's done this ever since it all happened.

“No need to apologize. I’m doing alright.” As I say the words, the pain comes down harder on me. I twist my hands on the leather again and glance out the window as I come to another stop. I just wanna get home now.

“I’d believe you if you went home with some pussy, but they said you didn’t.” He says it with a touch of humor in his voice and it gets a short, rough laugh from me. I run my hand through my hair and stare at the stoplight.

I remember the feel of Maddy’s ass in my hands, and my dick starts to harden. Yeah, I’ll be fucking fine. As long as I can work and fuck, I’m fan-fucking-tastic. I try to forget Maddy and her soft curves. Fuck. I close my eyes, willing my dick to not get hard for a woman I can’t fucking have. I haven’t jerked off in years, not when I can get laid whenever I want. I’m sure as shit not doing that tonight.

“Promise you, it’s all good,” I tell him.

“If you say so.” From his tone I can tell he doesn’t believe me. I don’t blame him. Anyone who was forced to kill his father would be fucked up. Even if his father was an abusive fuck like my old man.

It happened years ago, but fuck me, I can’t let it go.

I was only ten or so when I started stepping in front of my mom to take the hits. I couldn’t stand the way he hurt her. I tried to protect her. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought she loved me.

I woke up one morning to him screaming about how “the bitch left.” The beatings only got worse after that. Because of course to my father, I was the reason she left. It’s hard to imagine it wasn't true. Why else did she leave me with him?

My old man was more than just an abusive drunk though. He was a degenerate gambler, and got into some serious debt with the mob.

Nikolai, Vlad and two soldiers who are probably long dead came for him when I was fourteen. They found him beating the shit out of me, but I was fighting back. I didn’t have much weight to me since I’d barely hit puberty, but it didn’t stop me from fighting back.

The mob doesn’t like witnesses though, even if they are just kids.

Nikolai spoke up for me. Said he’d teach me. Vlad put a gun in my hand and gave me a choice. Kill my father and join them, or die with him.

It might sound like an easy choice, but it was harder to pull that trigger than I thought it would be. So many nights had passed where I wanted him dead. I swore one day I’d kill him for what he did to my Ma, and what he did daily to me. But when it came time, I almost chose to die with him.

He stared up at me and instead of telling me to do it to save my life, he called me every name in the book and spit on me. Maybe he did it to make it easier for me. But maybe he really did fucking hate me.

I think you always love your parents somewhere deep down inside. Even if they don’t love you back. Even if they don't deserve it.

If it wasn’t for Nikolai, I never would’ve survived.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Just wanna crash tonight,” I tell him. “I’ve got an appointment tomorrow I wanna get up earlier for.” That’s true in a way.

“Good to hear. It’s always nice to get lost in your work.” I can see him nodding the way he does. I grew up with Nikolai as my only father figure despite the fact he’s not even a decade older than me. It wasn’t optimal, but at least I had someone.

It sure is fucking nice to get lost in work. He taught me that. I’m not gonna lie, I was a fucking punk kid growing up. I graffitied everything I could. Got in trouble a few times for it. The first time I went to jail wasn’t for fighting, it was for tagging an abandoned building.

Nikolai was pissed. He said the mob doesn’t need delinquents, and getting in trouble for dumb shit puts a target on my back. So he got me a job at a tattoo parlor. They smuggled drugs out the back of it. I didn’t care though. I just wanted to get my art out there. And Nikolai said it’d be good for me. He told me not to fuck up, and to take it seriously.

I got a reputation pretty fast—a damn good one, and the family hooked me up with my own shop. I was eighteen with my own business, and had clients who fucking loved me. The only condition the mob gave me was that they would handle the books, and they were free to use the back for whatever they needed. I signed that day without thinking much on it.

A few weeks in, Garret and Vlad came into my shop and told me they needed me to cover up a tattoo on a body. I wanted to say no, but I knew better. She was a young girl, maybe my own age, and a member of an MC gang. Garret tossed her on my table and said the tattoo that could identify her needed to be covered. Her body was covered with bruises of varying colors, making me wonder how long they’d tortured her. But what was worse was that she was still bleeding. They’d used a knife on her and mutilated her.