To be honest, I was expecting Roxie to grumble. Maybe get embarrassed and walk away.
But I should’ve known better.
Roxie Westin doesn’t take shit. From anyone.
Instead, her fist snaps out so fast I barely see it, but I definitely hear the sound of Bessie’s nose breaking.
“Excusethe fuckout of me? Want to try that shit again?” Roxie snaps, leaning over the blonde girl who dropped to the floor wailing, and holding her nose. I drop the tattoo gun, barely remembering to turn it off before it hits the tray.
“You crazy fucking bitch!” The blonde screams while blood pours from her nose. I can tell from the way it’s immediately purple that her nose is never sitting the same way again. “I’m going to sue you!”
“I don’t care what you do. I care what you say aboutmy man. Did I actually hear you say that Ty did this to me? That he gets turned on by this?” Roxie asks in a dark tone, one that makes me stand up to protecI’mt— not sure who, and makes me need to rearrange my dick in my pants. Fuck, hearing her call me that,her man… My eyes close just for a moment, and I try to bite back the moan that wants to leave my mouth.
My dick is pressing hard against the denim of my jeans as I watch this protective goddess stand up and protectwhat’s hers.
Bessie’s smart and she stays quiet, looking around for someone to help her, to come to her defense, but it’s just Asher, myself and Asher’s client here. All of whom have seen what she did.
Roxie steps closer, the rage coming off of her is palpable. I canfeelthe anger floating from her in waves. I mirror Roxie and take one step closer to her, not because I think she might need back up, but because I think I might need to hold her back.
“Let me make myself crystalfuckingclear,” Roxie says slowly, menacingly, in a tone that makes my cock jump and my heart race. “If I ever hear you say some disgusting, cruel shit about my man again, you’ll have to be rolled out of here.”
Bessie’s eyes widen and then just when I think I’m in the clear, she opens her dumbass mouth. “I think I’d just walk.”
I hear Asher groan and his client laugh, and I wince. Fuck.
“It’s pretty hard to walk when your knees are broken, you dumb bitch! Get out!” Roxie screams, grabbing her by the shirt and shoving her across the room towards the front door.
From the looks of it, Roxie’s incredibly fucking strong because that bitchflew. Her legs fall over and her feet stay in the air hilariously for a moment too long before she crashes to the ground.
“Get the hell out of here and don’t you eventhinkabout telling anyone about what happened in here, or I swear to everything I’m sanctioned by below, you’ll regret it,” Roxie sneers as Bessie scrambles up from the floor. It should not be this fucking arousing that Roxie threatened this chick for me. It shouldn’t be… But then why is it so fucking hot?
Bessie throws a fifty at me and runs out, tears falling down her face and her nose bleeding.
I should run after her and tell her how to clean her tattoo, how to keep it clean. But she signed the paperwork. She has other tattoos. She’ll be fine.
Plus I have much more important matters to take care of.
Roxie.
The door closes and Asher starts to slow clap, nodding in appreciation as he lets out a low whistle.
“Damn Rox, I always knew you were a fighter, buta defendertoo? Remind me not to piss you off,” he jokes and picks his machine back up to get back to the tattoo.
But the moment he gets back to work, is the moment I see Roxie shift. The rage leaves her eyes and it turns to panic. Clear, undiluted panic.
“Look, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have stepped in, I just saw red and?—”
“Roxie,” I say softly, pulling my gloves off and taking her hands.
“Please don’t,” she whispers, stepping back quickly and I instantly freeze. Hands barely touching hers, I stay still. I don’t pull back, I don’t move forward. I stay right where I am.
That’s when it hits me.
She thinks I’m angry with her. Or that Asher’s angry with her. And she automatically tensed up because it’s something Mickey would hurt her for.
“Roxie,” I whisper just loud enough for her to hear. “I’m not mad. Neither of us are. I’m… It wasreally hotactually,” I say with a smirk that I know affects girls.
“‘Really hot actually’?” she repeats my words and I can hear some of that fire coming back in her tone.
