Page 74 of Ink

Ever since I first learned to ride, I was constantly told you don’t just put anyone on the back of your bike. That shit means something.

I’d tell her she’s the first woman to ever be on the back of my bike, but knowing her, she isn’t going to believe me and doesn’t understand what it means. She’s not from this life. She doesn’t know our way. Not yet anyway. Sutton’s soft tits pushed up against my back feels like heaven in itself. The kind of heaven I’ve been searching for.

When she asked me what I was doing in her bed, I didn’t know what to tell her because I didn’t know the answer to that myself. After we finished church, I headed up to bed with every intention of picking her up from Evan’s in the morning before work. My insomnia has always made it hard for me to pass out as soon as I lay down unless I’m black out drunk.

It’s just how it’s always been.

What I wasn’t planning on was her scent to be lingering on every inch of my sheets. It didn’t matter what way I twisted or turned, all I could smell was her.

Smelling her without being able to reach out and touch her was doing my head in. Next thing I knew, I had my jeans back on with my cut in hand as I made my way out to my bike and rode next door.

I didn’t have to pick the lock this time because Prez was just getting home as well.

“I knew your ass would show up.” He laughed as he let me in.

Seeing her sleeping so peacefully made me feel at peace.

For once, everything in my head stopped. Exhaustion hit me full force as I stripped and slid into bed next to her. Last night was the first time in a very long time that I actually slept through the night.

She made it all stop.

She’s my peace and I’ll die protecting hers.

“Do you think Gage is mad at me?” Sutton asks as she looks unsure at the door in the alley as I get off my bike.

“If he is, I’ll beat his fuckin’ ass. You did nothin’ wrong.”

“Ink!” she exclaims. “I didn’t tell him to not pick me up! Do you know how rude it is to give someone a ride and they’re not ready? It’s right under someone chewing with their mouth open.”

“Babe,” I say as I try not to laugh, because I know she’s being very serious, but she’s just too damn funny. “To be fair, you didn’t know he was pickin’ you up. Get over it. I already am.”

“It’s still rude,” she mumbles under her breath as she follows me inside.

I leave her to it. I figure she would want some space to process what happened this morning. I know the poor thing is probably confused. She doesn’t have experience with a man like me, and I keep popping up when she least expects it to lay more on her.

I knew she was annoyed with me about being right about Gage. He wasn’t fucking mad, just like I told her. In fact, he didn’t even bring it up. She blurted out her rushed apology like she was scared he was going to fire her about it.

“Thanks, man. This looks fucking sick,” my client says as he admires the sleeve I just finished on him in the mirror.

“No problem.” Snapping my gloves off, I throw them into the small trash can by my workbench. “Once you’re ready, we can head up front and get you squared away.”

“You’re a member of the Dirty Devils, right?”

I’m able to contain my outright sigh, but I’m only so strong. My eyes roll up to the ceiling as my jaw clenches.

I knew this was coming.

This is a new client who came with a recommendation from a regular. I’m not big on taking people I don’t know, but because my regular has dropped some serious cash over the years, I figured it would be cool.

As soon as we were a couple of hours into the first session, I realized it wasn’t going to be cool. The only time his eyes left my cut was if I went back over a line and he had to breathe through the pain.

It’s pretty easy to pick out who wants an invitation to a club party or not. Women are always welcome but a random dude? No fucking way. Someone we’re cool with needs to bring you and vouch for you. And even after all of that, they’re still responsible for your ass. If you fuck up and get your ass beat, that’s on you.

I can tell this dude would definitely get his ass beat.

“Mhm,” I say, dismissing him as I start cleaning up, hoping he gets the hint.

“There a party tonight?” he asks after a beat. He’s stalling by acting like he’s checking out my work in the mirror still when really he’s watching me.