The twitch of my lips is impossible to hide as he dips down to whisper in my ear, “I like my name on your skin, micina. More than I should. You writing that for the world to see makes me want to rip your leather pants to your ankles so I can ram my cock in you and show everyone how you were made to take my knot.”
“You like?” I say, rolling over, coming face to face with the irrefutable evidence of how much he does like it.
And call it inappropriate, call it what you will, but I rub my man over his expensive tailored pants. His hand snaps out, and he squeezes my fingers tightly around his length. He closes his eyes, sinking into my touch; half a heartbeat later, his eyes snap open.
“Let’s go. Your suppressants are wearing off, and way too many unknowns around for that. Back at King’s it doesn’t matter what you smell like or how I act, but here it does.”
He goes to walk off, unperturbed that he’s walking back through the shop with a raging boner. His swagger is such a sight, it constantly gets me hot and wound up.
“Koz.” I stop him. Maybe the tabs are wearing off, although I guess I just love seeing him wild and free too. “Do you really like it?” I ask, pointing to my neck.
“Don’t,” is the only word he growls at me, before he stands in front of the reception desk, impatiently tapping a wad of cash on the bench to hurry me along.
“Niche, this is spectacular,” I say, climbing off the bed and standing in front of the mirror. And even though the reflection is bouncing back the opposite, it’s easy to see how beautiful it is. It is also very easy to read the words, and anyone speaking Italian would see the declaration I’ll wear for the rest of my days.
She does a sly half smile, looking like she can’t take the compliment, but I give her one of those weird taps you give people you kind of feel comfortable with. “I’m serious, I love it.”
“Looks like he does too,” she says, flicking her eyes nervously at Koz.
“Yeah, you could say that.” I laugh with her. “Hey, we’re going to the Fallen clubhouse if you want to come and have a drink later. Can’t promise you anything but cheap booze, bad music, and a whole lot of biker humour which is generally inappropriate.”
“Not sure that’s my scene, but I’ll suss out what’s going on. I could see if Hayes was interested in coming...”
I look at her, “You know we’ve got history? I’m not sure of the reception he’d get if he came with you.”
“From them or you?”
She’s not being insensitive or nosey, and the vibe I pick up from her is more peaceful than intentionally nasty. Her question raises lots of questions I’ve always wanted to ask; how would I feel if I saw them again? Did what happened, really happen? Why haven’t they reached out?
“Raney, you look like you’re searching for answers. Maybe Hayes could help you out. I’ve got no clue what happened, but all the same, I know Hayes and he’s a good person. A really fucking good person.”
“Well, I don’t know who he is anymore, so I can’t…”
“What about your partner? Is he going to let you find the answers?”
“That’s why we’re here, Niche,” I say, shrugging.
Behind us, Koz is getting more impatient, but he’ll get over it.
Niche is obviously getting over being laid back in our chat and comes pretty direct in what she wants to say. “When I want to chill, I watch TikTok. I know, don’t give me shit about it,” she says quickly when she catches my eye roll. “Anyway, you know how sometimes things just make sense. Well, I watched this woman, and this is word for word what she said, because it just stuck—I don’t give a single fuck about who you were yesterday. What I do care about is how you show up today. Way too many of us are living our lives like our fucking past is on a billboard that we carry around with us for every single human to see. Reminder, you are not your past, you are who you choose to show up as today.”
She bleeds sincerity, but the thing is, I’ve seen sincere. I’ve felt it, it’s kissed me before it left me broken.
Waiting a moment to school my emotions, I go for bland. “I’ll keep that on board. Maybe don’t bother coming past tonight, because while I’m down with all that positive affirmation and self-ownership, I’m also a big believer that your actions speak louder than your words. For the second time in my life, Hayes did a runner. Let’s leave it at you being an incredible tattoo artist.”
She flicks her chin up. “Cool. I get it.”
I should have been more aware of how much time we were here because the next minute, chaos descends on their tattoo parlour when King barges his way inside. His impatience, and frustration, like a physical weight that settles on my shoulders. His dominance display might work on the members of the Fallen, but I grew up with it and can easily shake it off. Which pisses him off even more.
“Raney! What the fuck! A tattoo is more important than coming down and seeing your dad?”
I spin around, “Well… I was looking forward to catching up with Joker and all the sweetbutts…”
He glares at me so hard, I swear to god, he’s going to pop a gasket. I make it into his arms before he implodes, although he’s still wound up tight which is not like King.
“Are you okay?” I ask, pulling him away from all the eyes currently watching our reunion.
“Raney, it’s always a fucking shit show. You good, my girl? Is he still treating you right?”
