Page 2 of Cries of Cassie

Another thing about Maddox is that he's a very dominant man. Rarely does he slip out of his I'm the big bad boss, and everyone must listen to me mode.

"Oh, I'm watching it, alright. You're leaving again. Until you decide to pull your head out of your ass, you have no right to boss me around. Now get the fuck out."

This time he does as I say and yanks the front door open. I'm surprised he looks over his shoulder one last time before I slam it in his fucking face. Unwilling to hear his voice again, I flip the two locks and stomp back to my room.

Am I making a mistake letting him string me along?

Most people would say hell yes, but fucking hell, he's really good in bed, and I'm so madly in love with him I can't help myself. Not to mention, I understand why he's pushing me away. He just doesn't understand that I am cut out for a life in his club.

I won't think about what he was thinking when he took his final look, and I most certainly won't miss him while he avoids me. In all honesty, he's exhausting my heart.

My mind gets it and can think it through, but my poor heart thumps wildly when he's around and drops in defeat when he leaves. I'm not sure what I'll do about us, but I do know I'm getting angrier with each encounter.

Anger is the perfect fuel after all.

Chapter One

Cassie

From the top of my head to the tips of my toes, the rumbling of multiple motorcycles gives me chills. I shudder and step back, shaking off my immediate arousal. Hide. I need to hide.

"Fuck," I hiss, the revving of their engines rattling my heart against my ribcage. I've locked the beating organ away for a while, and I'm not ready for Maddox to let her loose yet.

Hustling away from the wall of windows, I plop my ass down in the reception desk chair and decide I'll just wait to head home. I watch with trembling hands as four bikes slow down on their drive-by.

"Shit shit shit." Panicking, I duck down to hide my fire-engine-red hair from Maddox's view. I'd recognize his body, posture, bike, and helmet anywhere. His glossy all-black Harley doesn't seem like it should stand out, but it does.

The breath whooshes out of me as the bikes continue down the busy streets of Detroit. An ache forms in my neck from the rapid tension when I went on high alert.

How pathetic am I? I hid from the man I'm in love with. Maybe I should dye my hair back to my normal auburn hues, but where's the fun in that?

My fear of being seen by Maddox or one of his men keeps me rooted in place. No matter that their bikes have stopped thrumming through my veins, I'm staying here until I know they're not coming back.

Thunking my forehead on the reception desk, I let the chill of the wood ice the headache pounding in my skull. Thank fuck our front desk is empty today and everyone else is working on big tattoos that will keep them busy for a few hours.

I'll wait it out for a bit.

Over and over again, I try to force my heart and mind to cooperate with each other. I doubt they ever will, but it's worth a shot. I'm just so sick and tired of being yanked around by a man who won't even fight for me.

I want, no, I need someone who demands my attention. Possessive and over the top in his need to claim me. I deserve to be shown off and never need to question where I stand in their life.

I don't just want a connection that burns the sheets, but a love that sets my soul on fire with passion and devotion. Fuck, I want to be loved like the world is ending and we're trying to get as close to each other as possible.

Is it too much to ask that for once I want someone to make me cry happy tears? I've already got the sad, frustrated, and out of my mind with pleasure tears, but I. Need. More.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Groaning, I thump my forehead onto the reception desk one more time. "Go away, Jamie."

My friend's husband snorts and kicks the stool that seats my sorry ass. "No can do. I'm heading out, and Violet would kick my ass if I left you here when you should have been gone almost an hour ago."

With a heavy sigh, I sit up and glance out the front windows of the tattoo shop. When I expressed my interest in learning how to be a tattoo artist, Jamie took me under his wing. That was years ago, and I haven't wanted to work anywhere else.

Plus, my bestie's daughter comes in with Violet for lunch a few times a week. Raven may not be my niece biologically, but I've claimed the aunty title. I'm convinced she's the greatest kid ever. She's already an amazing combination of her three dads and her mom.

"Do you want to come over for dinner tonight? Raven will be up for a few more hours so you can get some toddler snuggles."

Stretching my wrist enough to work the joints, I think about his offer. The problem is I'm in a foul mood and don't want to bring it into their house. Plus I'm going out tomorrow night with Violet and don't want to steal her from family time two nights in a row.