Wildfire (Men of Inked: Heatwave Book 3) Page 6

  I grab the cording at the waistband, tying the sweats as snugly as possible as the material pools around her feet. “There.”

  “I look ridiculous,” she huffs, kicking out her legs to drive the point home, again, that the pants don’t fit.

  I’m on a knee, rolling up the legs so she can walk without falling. “You look beautiful,” I tell her, gazing up her body, loving the way she looks in my big T-shirt and favorite sweats. “I’d eat you.” I wink.

  She places her hands on my shoulders, stepping closer, making sure my face is right in the promised land. “Who needs food when I’m on the menu?”

  Grabbing her around the knees, I lift her upward as she squeals. “First, food,” I say, placing her over my shoulder so her ass is level with my face. “Then, pussy.”

  “You’re no fun sometimes.” She sags over my shoulder as her fingertips find the top of my ass. “The view from here is great, by the way.”

  “Mine too,” I tell her as I carry her out the door, heading down the hallway. Before we make it to the common area, I sink my teeth into her ass cheek, holding her legs tightly so she doesn’t try to shimmy down my body.

  “Ouch,” she hisses, slapping my ass with what I assume is all her might and then wiggling her ass closer to my face because I know she liked it.

  “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll kiss it and make it better later.”

  “Promises, promises,” she grumbles as her fingernail skates up the bare skin of my back, sending goose bumps everywhere.

  “I’m a man of my word.”

  “Looks like you found yourself a new toy,” Eagle says as soon as he sees us. He’s parked on a barstool, nursing a cup of coffee, probably laced with something more than caffeine.

  I glare at him as soon as Tamara’s body stiffens in my arms. “Fuck off, man.”

  “New toy?” she whispers, those fucking fingernails which had just been giving me pleasure now biting into my flesh, about to draw blood.

  “Ignore him.” I throw him a look that tells him I hope he chokes on a big cock and dies a slow death.

  “Put me down,” she demands, kicking her legs, but I’m not having any of it.

  “Stop.” I tighten my hold, leaving Eagle on the barstool, praying no one else is in the kitchen.

  Eagle is a motherfucker and a troublemaker, always talking before thinking.

  My private life has always been that…private.

  And he knows better than to talk shit about relationships, casual or otherwise, when there’re women around. I never mention his old lady and wife, Linda, when he’s trying to bang two chicks at the same time, neither one of them her.

  Tamara’s quiet, nails still planted in my skin, but otherwise not moving as we make it to the kitchen.

  I loosen my grip and ease her down my chest until we’re eye-to-eye. Her feet aren’t on the floor, but my arms are around her waist, holding her there, suspended.

  “What?” she growls, the playful, happy mood from earlier gone.

  “Princess.” I look at the girl all filled with piss and vinegar. “Are you havin’ fun?”

  “Yes,” she says, but she looks behind me instead of in my eyes, digging those goddamn fingernails into the skin of my shoulders.

  “Baby.”

  “JD,” she throws back, attitude oozing off her like lava.

  “You want to be my old lady?”

  Her eyes snap to mine, flashing with anger, joy, and sadness. “I don’t know, but I know I don’t want to be a new toy. Toys are replaceable and temporary.”

  I smirk, staring at the beautiful creature who wants a good time but doesn’t want to feel like she’s just another chick in a long line of endless, faceless, nameless pussy going in and out of my life. “There’s only one, Tamara.”

  Her fingernails relent, and she slides her hands to my neck. “How many women have you called princess?”

  I know if I answer this wrong, she’ll dig those sparkly claws right into my face. Thankfully, I can be honest and come out without a scratch. “Only you.”

  She blinks. “Only me?”

  “Only you.”

  She smiles, the compliment seeming to do the trick. “Smart man.”

  “An honest man. Now, you want pancakes or eggs?”

  Her eyebrows draw down. “I’m a shit cook.”

  I laugh again, never expecting her to cook for me. “I’m cooking. Now pick.”

  Her face brightens immediately. “Big, bedazzled dick and cooking skills. You’re like a dream man.”

  “You forgot about my mad tongue skills, baby.”

  “They’re all right,” she teases, earning her my mouth against her neck, biting gently into her skin. “Why don’t you lay me on that table and prove me wrong?”

  “Food then fucking,” I remind her, murmuring into the soft, sweet warmth of her neck and lowering her feet to the floor. “Lots of fucking.”

  “Fine.” She turns her face to take my lips.

  The kiss is long, deep, and filled with promise. My hands find her ass, kneading the round cheeks in my palms. She moans, pressing her breasts against me, no doubt trying to tempt me to go back to the room.

  I push her away, panting. Another minute longer and I would’ve done just that. “Sit,” I tell her, moving her to a stool near the countertop. “And don’t move.”

  She pouts as she slides onto the hard wooden surface, looking so small in the extra-large clothes but still damn hot. “You don’t have to worry about that. Nothing I make is ever edible. So, where’d ya learn to cook?”

  “First off, eggs and pancakes are the easiest damn things to make.”

  “Trust me, I fuck up toast.” She snorts.

  Somehow, I believe her, but I don’t share that. “My mom taught me. Most nights, I’d cook for us both when I lived at home,” I say into the refrigerator, grabbing everything I’ll need.

  “And home is where?” she asks, sitting up a little straighter when I turn back around.

  “Ohio, but I’ve lived everywhere.”

  She scrunches her nose. “Never been to Ohio.”

  “What’s the face for, then, beautiful?”

  “It’s cold there.”

  “That’s why I’m here,” he says.

  “Where’s home for you?” I ask, forgetting if she told me before or if I’d overheard it.

  “Grew up in Tampa. It’s where my family lives and where I’ll be for the summer, but I’m going to school in Tallahassee.”

  “FSU?”

  She nods, watching me like a hawk. “Yep. Did you go there?”

  “You’re cute.” I laugh, cracking the eggs and dumping the contents into the bowl.

  “What?”

  “If I had a degree, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be living at the compound, doing the shit I’m doing.”

  “It’s never too late,” she tells me. “You should apply and go there with me. I mean, you have the GI Bill to pay for it and everything, right?”

  “Yeah, but I’m too old for college shit now.”

  “I have a year left. We could hang out, fuck like bunnies, study for class, ya know…fun shit.”

  I shake my head, unable to stop laughing because this girl is the best kind. “They should really have you write their brochures.”

  “How old are you?” she blurts out of freaking nowhere.

  “Thirty.”

  She doesn’t even flinch. “I’m twenty-one.”

  “Figured you were older,” I reply honestly, especially since she said she had a year left.

  “I graduated high school a year early.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal.

  “Smart chick. I like that.”

  “So, you don’t care I’m only twenty-one?”

  “Do you care I’m thirty?” I throw back.

  She shakes her head. “I like my men a little older.” She smiles. “Men my age are…”

  “Pussies,” I throw in because, fuck me, they shouldn’t be called Gen Z or Millennials or whatever shit t
hey’re on now. They should be called Gen P for pussies or pansies.

  “From your lips to God’s ears.” There’s a minute of silence as she watches me prep the pancakes and then whisk the eggs. “Are your parents still in Ohio?”

  “No, she moved here a few years ago to be closer to me.”

  She frowns. “Can I ask what happened to your dad?”

  I grab the pans from the rack above the stove, placing them on the burners. “Never knew the man. He died in Desert Storm before I was born.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers, covering her mouth with her hand.

  I throw a smile her way, because there’s no need for her sadness. “Baby, don’t be sad. My father died a hero, and in my mind, he’ll always be my hero. I don’t know what I missed. My mom stayed single until I was grown and out of the house. I’m sure having a dad would’ve been great, things would’ve been easier, but I had a great life. My mom made sure of it.”

  “It’s still sad.” She glances down at her hands as she sets them in her lap, twisting her fingers together. “I can’t imagine not having my dad in my life.”

  “Tell me about him,” I ask, working on our breakfast, done with talking about myself and my sad past.

  “Well, my mom is insane.” I glance her way, but she waves me off. “Not literally.” She laughs. “She’s just…intense. My dad is cool sometimes, and he’s really my best friend.”

  “Brothers or sisters?”

  “I have a younger brother, Asher. He’s a little asshole, but I love him too. Then there’re my cousins. There’s so many of us, your head would explode.”

  “Must be nice to have a big family.”

  “Didn’t you have aunts and uncles?” she asks me, watching in fascination like she’s never seen a man cook before.

  “I had a few, but they all lived so far away, we only saw them at holidays or funerals.”

  “That would be awful.” She slides off the stool, coming to stand at my side. “We’re together all the time. Every weekend, my grandparents have dinner at their house, and then my dad and his siblings own a tattoo shop together. Gigi, my cousin and Pike’s girl, and I went to FSU together. This is really the first time I’ve ever ventured off on my own.”

  I turn my attention away from the pancakes to her sweet face. “And you showed up here, and it could’ve ended very badly.”

  She places her hand on my upper arm, peering over the stove. “But it didn’t. I got this hot, shirtless guy, cooking for me, giving me orgasms. I’d say it worked out pretty damn great.”

  “You got lucky.”

  “So did you,” she says, winking.

  “When I bring you home tomorrow, how much danger am I going to be in?” I ask, partially joking but mostly serious.

  Her eyes widen. “Tomorrow?”

  I nod. “Lockdown’s probably going to end, and then I’m under strict orders to take you back to your family.”

  The sadness in her eyes weighs on me before she releases her grip on my arm and moves back toward the stool. “It’ll be fine. They’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.”

  But the real question is… Will I be?

  8

  Tamara

  The MC compound during a party versus during a lockdown are two very different places. Gone are the music, laughs, and general good time.

  Boring is an understatement.

  If it weren’t for Mammoth, I probably would’ve scaled a wall by now. Possibly got my ass shot while doing it too, but danger and a dash of stupidity never stopped me from doing anything.

  Mammoth’s been outside for two hours, leaving me with nothing to do except nurse a beer, play on my phone, and return Sadie’s heated glare.

  The bitch hasn’t stopped watching me, throwing me shade the entire time because in her messed-up head, Mammoth is hers. Or at least she’d like him to be, no matter how many times he’s set her ass straight.

  “Mammoth will be in in another hour,” Eagle tells me as he slides onto a barstool near me.

  Not next to me.

  Somehow, it’s like I have the plague. The other members in the MC won’t risk coming within more than a few feet of me because of some invisible contagion I’m carrying.

  “Good.” I nod, not bothering to look at the older man who’s been nothing but sweet to me.

  “You all right, girl?”

  I don’t know why, but I giggle. There’s something about him calling me girl that just brings out the giggles full force. Maybe it’s the way he says it. It’s not sweet. It’s not mean either, but it most definitely is funny.

  “I’m fine, boy,” I reply through my fit of giggles, giving him the side-eye as his face crumples.

  “Boy?” he asks and grunts like I’ve punched him right in his big, beer-belly gut. “I’m hardly a boy.”

  “Well.” I run the back of my hand across my lips, wiping my mouth and trying to stop my laughter. When I turn to face him, somehow I’ve sobered, but just barely. “I’m hardly a girl either, Eagle.”

  He eyes me, gaze sweeping across my face, soaking me in. “You’re closer to a girl than I am to a boy. You’re a babe in my eyes.”

  I take in his mostly gray hair and salt-and-pepper beard, knowing he’s way older and probably cashing Social Security checks monthly. “Do you call every woman who’s younger ‘girl’?” I question him. The conversation is mostly to pass the time but partially out of curiosity.

  The corner of his mouth twitches as he lifts the beer bottle to his lips, eyes narrowing. “Honestly?”

  I nod.

  “I’m shit with names. I’m all about using girl, baby, sweetheart, and shit like that because I have less of a chance of getting my ass in trouble.”

  The laughter that had died comes roaring back. “Do the women know this?”

  He shrugs as he takes a swig of beer, still staring at me down the neck of the bottle. “Don’t think many of them care.”

  He’s probably right. I’m pretty sure Mammoth could call Sadie anything, and she’d still jump on his cock like her very life depended on the impalement.

  “So, you don’t know my name?”

  He slides the mostly empty bottle onto the bar, resting his thick forearm on the wood. “I know you’re a Gallo and Gigi’s cousin, but beyond that…I got nothing. So, you’re ‘girl.’”

  “Makes sense.” I smile at the older man, loving his laid-back and easy nature. I’m sure there’re times he’s scary as fuck, but now, sharing a drink, shooting the shit, isn’t one of them. “Lord knows I’ve been called worse.”

  “Eagle.” Ginger’s voice echoes through the common room. “Can I have a word?”

  And in the blink of an eye, Eagle’s gone.

  No goodbye.

  No quick nod.

  He just slides off, stalking across the room, and disappears out the front door with Ginger right behind him.

  I turn back around and grab my phone, giving Sadie and the other bitches still gathered on the couches my back.

  I know they’re talking about me. I can hear little bits and pieces of what they’re saying, but I’m not engaging. I can throw down with the best of them, but biker bitches are complete unknowns.

  Gigi: OMG. I heard you’re on lockdown. R U okay?

  Me: You sold me out, bitch.

  Gigi: Pike sold you out. I had your back.

  I send her a picture of my middle finger, the anger and betrayal I felt after talking to my parents now gone.

  Gigi: Whatever, asshole. You just disappeared. What the hell was he supposed to do?

  Me: Keep your cute lips sealed.

  Gigi: There are no secrets in this family.

  Me: I know a few about you that may shock more than just your parents.

  I sent the message with a winky face.

  Gigi: You’d have to tattle on yourself to share those secrets, smarty-pants. So, if you want to play dirty…I’m ready.

  Fuck. She’s right. Every dumb-ass thing she’s ever done, I’ve been at her side. Lily too
. We were like the three musketeers of dumb shit and antics.

  Gigi: How’s Crow?

  Me: A complete tool and bastard.

  Gigi: Fuck! What the hell are you doing there?

  Me: Not Crow.

  Gigi: So, you’re just playing Candy Crush?

  Me: Fuck no. There’s another guy. A new guy.

  Gigi: God, you’re so wonderfully slutty. I think it’s what I love most about you.

  Me: Where are you?

  Gigi: At the shop. Your dad is so fuckin’ moody too. You’re going to get a complete ass-chewing when you get back.

  Me: Fun times.

  Gigi: I hope it was worth it.

  Me: 100%

  Gigi: Bitch, spill the beans. Who’s the other guy?

  I stare at my phone, watching the cursor blink, wondering if I should tell her. I know whatever I say will filter right on over to Pike.

  What if Pike hates Mammoth?

  He knows all the guys in the club, at least the ones who were here when he lived here. I’d hate for him say something shitty, trying to kill my good time.

  Me: Mammoth.

  Gigi: I don’t think I ever met him.

  I can just imagine her right now, leaning over in her chair, talking in Pike’s ear, questioning him about Mammoth.

  Gigi: Pike said Mammoth wasn’t there when we were there for the party.

  Gigi: …

  After the first Pike statement, there are three dots for a long time. She is typing up a dissertation on Mammoth, and it probably isn’t going to go in his favor.

  Gigi: Pike said the guy is solid, but that he isn’t someone to play around with. Pike said mind your own business, keep your hands to yourself, and stay in his old room. Mammoth isn’t someone a girl like you should be hanging out with.

  I blink at the screen, reading over her words and shaking my head. A girl like me is a statement I’ve never liked to hear or read. The easiest way to end the conversation…agree to do what Pike says. I only have a few hours left here anyway, and then I’ll be back in Tampa, getting my ass reamed for trying to live life.