CHAPTER FOUR
B-ry
It was stupid and immature, I knew it. But that woman drove me fucking insane. She got under my skin in a way that no one ever had before. And I wasn’t sure if I liked it or hated it.
She stood there in the middle of the tattoo shop, acting as if I was something stuck to the bottom of her overly priced shoe. Like I was a damn gnat in her glass of champagne.
But how could she forget thatshekissedme? I merely opened the door and fuck, she walked right through and took from me in such a desperate way.
I wouldn’t even try and deny that I felt something. That was a fucking kiss that was for sure.
Even now, I couldn’t get it out of my head. Something about her in that moment not only seemed shocked and needy, but there had also been a tinge of vulnerability there. And I think that was what I liked the most. Strange as it was, there was just something about wanting to see and know the real Laurel that constantly had my brain spinning.
She floated into the tattoo shop with a kind of grace that I would have expected. She kept her head held high even though she was in a place that probably would have made her uncomfortable on a good day. She stared me down and gave it to me just as good as I gave it to her. That was the thing that got me the most. And by the time she walked out, I felt a strange need to bow down to her. Not in a mocking way, either.
“We doing this?” Blade said to Ky, effectively snapping me out of my trance.
“Yeah,” Ky said and walked into Blade’s room.
I was here for moral support. No, I was not here to get a fucking needle pushed through my junk. I didn’t need that to make a woman scream my name, that was for sure. And I honestly never even had the urge to get one. It was simply a joke. But damn, if it didn’t turn into something more. After Laurel walked out, I almost felt the challenge lingering in the air. Which had me thinking about it for half of a second. But no, I would never.
“So that was Cami’s sister?” Ky asked as he lost his shirt and Blade came at him with a marker. More specifically, at his nipples.
“Yeah,” I said with a shrug because I didn’t know what else to say. Or really, didn’t want to give anything away. It was clear the woman got to me. “Why are you doing this?”
“Thought it would be a good idea,” Ky answered nonchalantly.
After Blade was done, I looked at Ky’s nipples. I couldn’t deny that he had great nipples for it. I mean, those barbells stuck out perfectly and didn’t seem to overwhelm his nubs. From a dude perspective, he pulled it off quite nicely. Which almost had me telling Blade he could do the same thing to me. But I held off. I knew it wasn’t something I should decide on the spot. That said, it did have me itching for some new ink.
I wasn’t quite covered all the way. My arms were though. I guess you could have said that I was slowly working my way up and inward.
Each one meant something to me and was thought out thoroughly. While some people got things because they saw something they liked, I wasn’t one of them.
Ky and I headed out. I decided that I needed to hit the bar because that encounter with Laurel had me riled the hell up.
I grew up in the West Tennessee chapter. My dad never shielded me from the life. My mom hadn’t been around long enough to give a shit what I saw. So, needless to say, I grew up rough and knowing. In fact, I barely hit puberty before I had my first chick on my dick. I wouldn’t say that it was expected, it just was. I didn’t see it as wrong or different. It was the lifestyle and hell, I sure as fuck didn’t complain about it.
There were good things about wearing the cut. And there were also bad. But when it came to women, it was usually a plus. I learned at a young age that you had to make sure you picked the right ones. Meaning, know if they were crazy or clingy before you even looked at them. After that, it was pretty much easy street. I never lacked and I sure as shit never complained. It worked well for moments like now when I was so riled up that I couldn’t even walk straight. And no, it didn’t matter who I was with or that I was thinking of someone else when I closed my eyes.
But for some reason, I found every woman that threw herself at me lacking. I couldn’t even begin to tell you why. They were either too fake. Too made up. Too pouty. Too eager. Which was funny because none of that shit had ever been a problem for me before. I blamed it on that woman. She had somehow gotten in my head and was seriously messing with me. I had no need for someone like her.
Fuck, though. Laurel was everything I should have hated in a woman. She had a rod shoved so far up her perfect ass that it was practically coming out her mouth.
But damn, that mouth.
Since the moment I’d kissed her I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It wasn’t for lack of trying that was for sure. But it was also her mouth that spat words of disgust at me. I never looked down on myself for where I came from or who I was. I never thought that being a part of the club was something to scoff at. But she clearly did. I think it really bothered me that she right out judged me. She didn’t know the first thing about me and yet, I was nothing but a pile of shit that had messed up her shoe.
Oh, how I hated that woman.
Only, maybe I didn’t.
It made me sick how she treated me but at the same time, it made my dick hard that she didn’t back down to me. She wasn’t like all the women here tonight that was for damn sure. I figured Hell would freeze over before Laurel ever threw herself at me. Not that I wanted her to because, come on, that was ridiculous. But I wouldn’t mind the satisfaction of seeing the look on her face when I turned her down.
“Need another one, man?” Sketch asked and I shook away the haze that had clouded my brain. I wondered how long I’d been lost in my head.
“Yeah,” I said with a thankful nod.
I watched Sketch walk to the bar, an entourage of barely dressed women following in his wake. I would have put money on the fact that he would make it through at least half of them by the end of the night. I had stamina and a fast recovery rate, but that guy was just God-like as far as that went. I supposed it could have helped that he sort of paced himself. He would slip off with usually one at a time over the few hours we were there. Then most likely end the night with a bang which would involve at least two of them. I’d even seem him take up to four back to his room at one time. That was just too much if you asked me. I couldn’t even imagine trying to keep that many women happy at once. Just one wrong move, leave someone out for too long, and the whole thing was ruined. No thank you. I didn’t mind working for sex but I didn’t want it to feel like work.
