Rough & Raw (Notorious Devils Book 2) (21 page)

Bates growls when I have to remove my bra, but I just roll my eyes. This is what he wanted, where he wanted it. He really has no room to complain to me. There’s more pain when the needle goes into my ribs, but I just close my eyes and breathe. I listen to Dragon and Bates’ voices float throughout the room as they talk. I have no clue what they’re saying, as I can’t concentrate on their words, but their voices sooth me.

“All right, babe, all done,” Dragon says, patting my thigh.

I open my eyes and smile at him. I watch as he walks over to a table and grabs a mirror, bringing it over to where I’m sitting. He holds it out and my eyes scan the reflection. The tattoos are simple. An arrow with a feathered end on one side and a point on the other. The word Bates in scroll and then a feather above that right under my breast.

It’s beautiful. Simple. Elegant. Girlie.

It’s me.

“I love it,” I whisper before I turn to Bates. “Do you like it?”

“Love it, baby,” he murmurs, his eyes focused on his name, his name permanently branded to my skin. Though nobody will likely see this piece, it’s there, and he’ll see it, and that’s all that matters.

Dragon hands Bates the mirror and he holds it up so that I can see the tattoo on the other side of my body, on my hip. The script is high on my hip so that it can be seen when I wear low waist jeans, but it’s pretty. It’s simple and the same font as Bates’ name on my ribs. I like that they match.

“Can’t wait to show this shit off, baby,” Bates mumbles, his eyes fixated on my hip. I shake my head and smile.

“I love them both, Dragon. Thank you so much.”

“Now it’s the big man’s turn,” he chuckles as he rubs gel on my new ink and wraps them up with cellophane.

“Bates’ll tell you how to care for it, babe. But just keep ‘em clean, and keep puttin’ this shit on it. They’re gonna itch in a few days, and then you’ll be good to go.” I nod, taking a tube of gel from him as I stand up. I pull my shirt down, unable to put my bra back on. No way in fuck is that thing touching my skin anytime soon.

“What’re you gettin’?” Dragon asks as Bates takes his shirt off and settles in the chair, his broad muscular back on display.

“Need my Notorious ink, then I want my woman’s name on my neck,” he states.

A shiver runs through me and my nipples pebble at his voice and the meaning in his tone, the way he said
my woman
. All of it combined makes me want to jump him right here and now. I don’t, though I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, based on a few things he’s said about people watching him. I’m sure Dragon wouldn’t mind in the slightest, but it’s not something I could do. No matter how comfortable I am, that to me is private, or fairly private. A dark corner, a supply closet—yeah, okay. The middle of a room with an audience? No way. I close my eyes and try to shake all those images running through my head away.

“Babe, wakeup,” I hear Bates’ voice. I blink my eyes open.

He’s crouched down in front of me and I look over to his neck, seeing my name in dark scroll. The font matches his names on my body. It starts with the B right below his ear and runs diagonally, ending with the E at the hollow of his throat. Right between his collarbones. I don’t touch it, as badly as I want to. I also want to lick it, which I don’t do, but I can’t wait until it’s healed so that I can.

“You like it?” he asks, his eyes bright and shining as a smile plays on his lips.

“Yeah,” I breathe. He bites his bottom lip before he leans over and brushes his lips against mine.

“My back,” he stands and turns. The back tattoo is massive. We must have been here for hours.

The word
Notorious
is written across his shoulder blades. There is a skull in the middle with devil horns. The eyes are completely blacked out. It’s huge, taking up the majority of his back. It looks so lifelike, 3D, as though it could jump out at me. Across his lower back is the word
Devils
. The words are in block lettering, and the massive tattoo is all black. No color. None is needed. The statement is made. He is a Notorious Devil. He’s not to be fucked with.

“It’s badass,” I state. He turns with a jerk of his chin and a wink.

“It fits me then, yeah?”

I roll my eyes but smile as I do it. He
is
a badass.
My
badass.

“Let’s get outta here, babe. We both gotta head into work.” He takes my hand and we walk toward the front door. We pass Dragon on the way, and I tell him thank you with a wave.

“Anytime you need any new ink, babe, you just come on by. No appointment necessary,” he calls out.

“You don’t go in there without me,” Bates says as we climb into his pickup truck. I’m grateful we didn’t bring the bike. I would feel horrible having to be pressed against his back the entire ride.

“What? Why?”

“Just don’t,” he grunts. I grin, looking over at him.

“Are you jealous?” I ask.

“Of Dragon? Fuck no,” he mutters as we continue toward the clubhouse.

“Then what’s the big deal?”

“He’s seen your tit. He don’t need to see nothin’ when I ain’t there,” he grinds out. I giggle, which quickly turns into a full on laugh.

“Bates,” I gasp, trying to catching my breath.

“It isn’t funny,” he mumbles.

“You’re around naked strippers every single night. One tattoo artist sees half my boob and you act like he tried to seduce me.”

“I don’t look,” he states. I just stare at his profile, not understanding his words. “At the strippers. I don’t look anymore. I go into my office and I do my paperwork. I have cameras and I can see the audience through my surveillance. The tits, the ass, the pussies, I don’t look.”

“You don’t look,” I repeat. He nods as he pulls into the clubhouse parking lot.

“Only tits, ass, and pussy I want to see are yours, babe,” he says as he parks, throwing his wrist over the steering wheel.

“Seriously?” I ask, unbelieving of his words. How can he be surrounded by all of that bare skin and not look?

“Serious. Nothin’ any other bitch has that I wanna see,” he murmurs before he lifts his hand and slides it around my neck. I hold my breath when his face dips down and his lips press against mine.

“Meant it when I said I loved you, babe. Meant it when I said I’d stay faithful to you. Meant it all. I’m yours,” he whispers against my lips.

I melt.

Every part of me turns completely to goo. This man owns me. He has always owned a piece of me, but now, right this minute, he owns every single part of me.

“I love you, Bates,” I murmur, unable to say anything else.

“Now, try to keep from giving the guys a free show with your tits while I’m gone, yeah? Really should have thought about placement of your tat better,” he grunts. I giggle.

I’m wearing a cropped oversized shirt that hangs off of one shoulder, but shows off my belly. My shorts are cut offs, short and low cut; you can see the
per
of my Sniper tattoo perfectly. I dressed super casual today, mainly because I wasn’t sure how much the ink would hurt. I’m glad I did, too. I’m pretty sore.

Sniper

I watch her cute little ass walk into the clubhouse, jealous as fuck that my brothers are going to have that view of her all night long. She bends over in that loose fitting top, and they’ll have the perfect view of her lush tits.

I should have made her go home for the night, but I already knew she’d raise hell with me. She needs the job. She needs to feel useful and to keep her mind off of her ex. Though she hasn’t mentioned him much since she came here, I can sense her unease about the prick. She’s constantly searching her surroundings for a sign of the bastard.

My eyes scan the parking lot once she’s left and I see Drifter on his bike. He gives me a head nod and I dip my chin before I take off. I look in my rearview mirror to make sure he’s behind me and am pleased to find him there. I drive toward my destination. It isn’t the club. I fibbed to Brent, but only to keep her safe.

We drive down the street of a fancy as fuck neighborhood. Brent’s old neighborhood. It’s lined with trees and huge houses. We park five houses down from our destination and I jump out of the truck. It’s dark and quiet.

“You sure you wanna do this, brother?” Drifter asks.

“Fuck yeah. This prick needs to be warned. I know he’s planning shit. No way did his daddy warn him off completely, he’s too cocky to take heed anyway,” I say.

“He is, no doubt about that,” Drifter says. I follow behind him.

We walk around the back of the house and slip inside undetected.
This asshole should really have an alarm system.
We wordlessly, and quietly, stalk up the stairs and toward the only light on in the house. The master bedroom. I hear moaning and grunting coming from the closed door. Drifter turns to me and lifts his brows with a grin on his face. I shake my head.

I watch as Drifter lifts his boot and kicks open the door. A woman screams. I walk in and see that she’s sitting on Scotty’s cock. Reverse cowgirl style. I look at her face and cringe. Fuck, she’s young, real young.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” Scotty screams. His face turns red and he throws the young bitch off his lap.

“Don’t think I will,” I state as I point my gun at his head. Drifter has his out and pointed at the naked bitch’s head on the floor.

“What do you want?” Scotty asks, narrowing his eyes on me.

“Give my woman an easy divorce, sign over your parental rights, and pretend like your marriage never existed. Pretend
she
never existed,” I say.

“You’re fucking crazy. You want the bitch? You can have her. Worst lay I ever had,” he grunts. “But my daughter is a different story. I’ll be taking her and raising her properly. No way would I let trash like you and the likes of her whore mother raise her.”

“You really shouldn’t talk about my woman like that,” I tsk.

“I really don’t give a fuck what you want. I’m Scotty Corbin, I’ll do what I want,” he huffs. I chuckle.

“Scotty, little dick, Corbin. Thinks he’s somebody, Drifter. What do you think?” I ask Drift without taking my eyes off of Scotty and his little dick. Fuck me, it’s small, too.

“I think nobody would miss his scrawny ass. I think he’s a wife beater, a rapist, and the scum of the earth,” he snaps. Scotty’s eyes go wide, traveling from Drifter to me in panic.

“She’s a selfish bitch and a liar,” Scotty cries. I shake my head, unable to respond immediately as I clinch my jaw tight.

“Brentlee doesn’t lie. She doesn’t have to. I have the medical records and photographs to prove exactly what and who you are. Do what your daddy advised and grant the divorce, sign the agreement to give up all custodial rights, and pretend you never met Brentlee Johnson,” I grind out, taking another step closer to the piece of shit.

“You don’t have shit,” he boasts. I chuckle.

“Man, I got it all. Every bloodied picture of my gorgeous girl; every documented piece of evidence you could think of. I fuckin’ got it. Your money can cover up a lot of shit, but there are still some good people in this world, and they keep shit like that for a rainy day—just in-fuckin’-case. Lucky for me, I got originals of it all, you dumbfuck,” I laugh.

“They can’t be used in court,” he says, puffing out his chest a bit.

“They can’t. You’re right. But when the cops come sniffing around because they find your cold dead body, I can show them just what kind of man you are. They’ll drop the search for your killer because, believe it or not, most cops—they ain’t gonna give two fucks about some piece of shit that beats and rapes his wife for years. They’ll figure he had it comin’ to him. Pissed off the wrong person,” I say, talking completely out of my ass.

“Do you know who my father is?” he shouts. I full on belly laugh at his rich-boy tantrum.

“Yeah, met the pencil dick the other day. Killed some of his lackey’s in front of him, too; so I’m thinkin’ he won’t be a fuckin’ problem. I’ll tell you who my daddy is, though. He’s a wife beater, a rapist, and a full on piece of shit. So forgive me if I don’t give a fuck about you or your daddy. I give a shit about the women men like you hurt. Women like Brentlee who couldn’t deserve that shit if they fuckin’ tried.”

Luckily, Scotty doesn’t say another derogatory word about Brent. Maybe he can tell I’m holding on by only a thin thread. I want to put a bullet in this fucker’s head so badly I can taste it. His eyes drift down to the barely legal girl naked and shaking on the floor before they come back up to me.

“I’ll sign over rights,” he mutters.

“Good. I’ll have my lawyer send them right over,” I say with a smile.

“You better watch your fucking back, biker,” he grinds out. I laugh wholeheartedly. What a dick.

“I don’t have to watch shit, Corbin. I find out you even breathe the same air as my Brent, I’ll cut your dick off and feed it to you—that’s after I saw your balls off and shove them down your throat. You’re nothing, you little punk, asshole. You even attempt to retaliate, and I’ll have my whole fuckin’ club here. We’ll make a party out of disemboweling you. It’ll be great fun,” I grin and the little girl starts to sob.

“You’re such a big talker with a gun in your hand,” he yells.

“Want me to get my knife instead?” I ask arching a brow. He doesn’t respond and I can’t help but smile. I lift my chin to Drifter, whose eyes are fixed on the girl curled into a ball on the floor.

“You need a ride, babe?” I ask. She looks up at me with terror.

“Come on, honey, you need to get away from this crazy man,” Drifter mentions with a grin.

“I—I’m scared,” she whispers, her eyes darting between the three of us men.

“How old are you?” he asks. He’s completely focused on her, but my gun is still aimed right at Scotty’s stupid head.

“Nineteen,” she murmurs.

“Grab your clothes, honey,” Drifter murmurs. She nods once before she gathers her things and quickly dresses.

“Stay away from my woman and her kid,” I reiterate to Scotty. He doesn’t say anything. He just watches as Drifter throws his arm over the nineteen-year-old girl’s shoulders.

“Just fucking leave,” Scotty shouts. It makes me laugh.