Tattered Love (Needle's Kiss) (4 page)

Scarlett stood there trying to play it cool, but I knew better. I could see how affected she was. Besides the fact, her nipples were making it pretty damn clear she was aroused; her eyes were reflecting exactly how I felt, which pleased me to no end.

She’d tortured me for two long Goddamn hours, from the second she walked in the door looking so sexy the devil himself would beg on his knees just for a taste of her. Her red silk shirt that only covered her front and sent glimpses of her perfect creamy breast every time she shifted a certain way, fuck me, it was a torture device. The constant crossing and uncrossing of those smooth killer legs were killing me—that was all before the vixen reached under the table, bringing back the hard-on from hell I had worked hard all night to tame.

When Scarlett unlocked and opened her front door, I put a hand to her bare back just at the bottom of her stunning tattoo. It was the first thing I’d noticed when I walked in the room after hearing her voice, black and grey ruffled wings, with guns crossed through the middle that spanned the entire length from her shoulders down to the dimples just above her sweet ass. I guided her forward and stepped inside. In one quick motion, I had her hot little body pinned against the back of the door with my hips, my hands holding her slightly off the ground by her sweet, soft ass. I pulled her body up as close as I could get to her.

“What the hell?” Her voice was filled shock. I'd completely taken her off guard.

Shit yeah, score me!

“You didn't think you could get away from me that easily, did you?” I spoke close to her ear, feeling her body involuntarily shudder. I felt her pert nipples brush through the fabric of both our shirts, causing my hips to buck against her groin at their own command.

She moaned as my cock ground against her. “What are you doing?” Her words were forced, her voice shaky. I relished the sound of her breathy voice.

“What does it look like, Scarlett? Feel like?”

I had never been so turned on in my life. I could barely keep myself from ripping her clothes off and burying myself as deep as possible inside of her. I ducked my head, the smell of cherry adding to the sensory overload. My lips connected and tasted her smooth neck, something I had been dying to do since I saw her that afternoon. She shuddered, and a small moan tore from her throat, making my already hard cock throb. Her breathing was already choppy, her hands gripping my shoulders, nails digging in.

“Nice play at dinner, Scarlett. You like teasing me, don't you?” I spoke in her ear and ground my hard-on against her sweet spot again; she was so turned on I could feel the heat through my jeans. I kept talking, my voice getting huskier the more aroused I became “Getting my cock hard as steel when I can't do a Goddamn thing about it.” I nipped her ear lightly, and she moaned again, as my one hand palmed her ass supporting her weight, and the other hand went to the side of her shirt.

A sob rose up from her as I ran my index finger along the side of her amazing tit where she had a trail of tiny black tribal butterflies inked; goose bumps broke across her flushed skin. Not being able to resist, I ground against her again, both of us panting. I pulled the side of her shirt across revealing one hard rosy nipple. “Like that, don't you, baby?” I leaned down, tracing the line of ink, moving slowly until I pulled her nipple into my mouth. She arched her body further into mine, causing me to groan at the taste of her sweet soft skin.

Her hand dropped down and gripped my bicep. Her nails almost broke the skin where she held on tight, causing my muscles to contract.
Fuck! That felt good.
I could imagine how her nails would feel, clutching my ass, leaving half-moons in my skin.

“You need to know I always get what I want, Scarlett.” I pulled my head up, staring into her eyes and whispered, “And I want my cock wrapped in your sweet pussy. I want to pound you hard until you can't move a muscle. I want to taste you on my tongue.”

“Yes,” she whimpered on a hitched breath. “Please, God, please, Mace.”

As much as I wanted to give her exactly what we both wanted, I had known Scarlett a total of twelve hours, and something deep in my gut told me not to fuck this up by one night standing her. God knew one night with Scarlett would never be enough.

I slowly slid her down my body, moved her to the wall beside the door, opened it and threw over my shoulder as I sauntered off, “Dinner, tomorrow night, pick you up at six, babe.” I walked back across the road, quickly trying to adjust my aching dick. I hoped I could hold onto my resolve and not turn around, storm back into her house, and take her against the wall.

Shit, I needed a cold shower pronto.

“Fuck me,” I whispered as I slid down the wall in a heap.

My heart was racing, and I was so damn horny that I thought I may just spontaneously combust. I clutched at my heaving chest and flushed a deep pink, thinking about Mace and his searing kiss.

Well, that didn't quite go as I had hoped. I smiled and realized it had gone a hundred times better than expected. I might be the one sitting on the floor mentally calculating the number of steps to my bedside table where my rabbit vibrator lived, but I could almost guarantee that Mace wasn't going to sleep as soon as he got home.

My efforts weren't wasted. I got to him. I’d gotten to him more than enough. At least enough that he’d ordered me on date. It was clear this wasn’t a request. He did not ask—he ordered. And it was hot as hell. I leaned my head against the wall and took a deep breath.

How was I ever going to be around him without burning up?

I was going to have to wing it on the date. Give as hard as I got. And I was looking forward to it.

Oh, this was going to be a freaking blast.

Some might find it strange being told they were going out rather than being asked. But it turned me on so much that my panties were soaked! There was something about a man who was confident enough in himself to assume the only answer would be yes. It really was more of a demand. Biting my lip through my smile, I sighed. Not that he’d given me the option, but if he’d asked properly, the answer would've been a big ‘hell, yes’.

I stood, breathed deeply and steadied myself enough to climb the steps. My sensitive nipples peaked and brushed against my blouse with every movement I made.

Oh, yeah. I was definitely going to need that rabbit tonight.

I rolled over in bed and blindly reached for my cell that was vibrating on the nightstand. It was a text from Teen.

You missed lunch, still alive?

I squinted through heavy eyes to peek a look at the time glowing bright red on the alarm clock and realized I'd slept in late. I’d missed our weekly date. Shit. I quickly tapped at the screen replying to her.

Alive, slept in. call you later xoxo.

I never freaking slept in! Even on weekends.

I instantly froze when I realized the situation I was in. It was the morning after date night and it seemed I was spooning, yes, spooning someone. A hard warm body against my back. A very hard warm Mace. A strong, muscled arm wrapped possessively around my hip, pinning me back into a straining erection. Warmth spread through my belly. Immediately, my body involuntarily reacted to having this Adonis at my back. My ass pressed back and ground into his hard on, tearing a small moan out of my throat. Briefly wondering how I had gotten home, the events of the evening played out in my mind in full color flashback.

Promptly at 6pm the knock at the door came. I slowly made my way down the stairs on four-inch ice-blue siren pumps, adorned with tiny rich red roses while straightening my matching off the shoulder shirt with little silver embellishments along the bottom around my hips. The half dozen silver bracelets that adorned my wrist jingled with every step I took. Throwing a sexy smirk towards the door, I took a moment to steady myself.

Swinging the door open, I lifted my eyes and had to grab onto the door and take a moment. This was becoming a bad joke. I couldn’t even be in the same room as the man without making a fool of myself. He stood, all six-foot-three of smirking honest-to-God sexiness. Clearly finding my teenage antics amusing, he did a very slow and heated sweep of me, pausing briefly with raised brows at my killer heels then moving slowly over the hip-hugging skinny leg distressed jeans. Passing over my midsection with parted lips, he stopped on my red painted lips.

He snapped his eyes to mine and with a gravelly voice declared, “Hot shoes babe. Ready?”

I snatched my purse up off the glass coffee table by the door, did a quick check to make sure I had everything and followed him out. Taking his outstretched hand in mine, the second we made contact tingles shot through me. His large hands made me feel small and petite. I looked up and noticed he’d parked his truck in Trip’s drive. “You didn’t need to park over there you know.”

Without even looking back at me, he mumbled, “Living there now, babe.”

We reached the passenger side, and as he gave me a hand up,—which happened to include both his hands on my ass—a round of butterflies swirled in my belly.

Once I was seated, I looked down into his face. He grinned, “Wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to see your pretty face every day.”

“Oh,” I whispered on a stuttered breath, thinking of all the ways I’d like to see him around. I was suddenly flushed. I’d really like to see a hell of a lot of him around. Shirtless and sweaty, mowing the yard…Now that would be nice.

I had to admit, the idea of him staying a mere hop skip and jump away left me a little worried though. I’d only know him for
a day. I mean I’d known of him and I’d seen photos of him as he was growing up, but I didn’t actually k
now him
—know him. As in, I really didn’t know anything about him. At all. I’d have to rectify that quick smart, and our date would be the perfect time to do that.

“What kind of work will you be doing now?” I asked curious. He looked sideways while shifting gears. Dammit, he even made that look sexy.

“I’ve been asked to do bit of P.I work for a buddy of mine. I don’t really need to work, but I prefer to keep busy. I might start in a few weeks.”

“At least you’ll have something to do,” I replied lamely. The way his mouth moved as he spoke was making me wonder what it would feel like to have his lips wrapped around my nipple again.

Squirming in my seat, I only just heard his murmured retort. “I could think of something I wanna do.” Clearly an insinuation and one I was more than down for.

Mace pulled up to the front of our local bar, Bob’s Bar and Grill, a place I absolutely loved.

What I loved about Bob’s was the friendly, relaxed atmosphere. Delicious and simple meals, cold beer on tap and great music. I wasn’t one of those girls who sipped fluffy frou frou drinks from pretty glasses with her pinkie in the air. Fuck no. Give me ice cold beer, shots of anything strong, and the occasional rum and coke.

“Table free over there,” Mace said with a nod of his head in the direction of a vacant table toward the back beside the pool tables. “I’ll get us some drinks. Be right there, babe”

He walked off toward the bar, not even asking me what I wanted. My irritation flared.

What an ass!

Did he think I couldn’t order for myself, his macho man routine was really beginning to piss me off. I mean, really did I have “useless bitch” hung on a tag around my neck?

“Freaking, assface, douche canoe, thinks he can boss me around like some kind of piece-of-bimbo ass,” I muttered to nobody in particular as I stomped off to our table ready to give him a serving when he got back, no doubt with something I’d hate. “He brings me back anything in a bitch glass, and I’ll make him drink it,” I continued ranting aloud.

I’d no sooner slid into my chair and put my clutch down when a cold beer was slid in front of me. I looked to the beer—all the pissy mood flew out of me replaced by a squishy feeling in my gut. Eyes snapping up to Mace to say thank you, I realized he was smirking like the cocky ass he was. “Thanks, but what’s so funny?” I part snapped at him.

“You, babe, stompin’ about the place like you’re gonna deck someone,” he said, trying and failing to hold back a chuckle

“I wasn’t going to hit anyone, just give you a piece of my mind.” I looked at him a little annoyed, because even when I thought he wasn’t paying attention, he was aware of my little tantrum. “How did you know what I drink?”

“Paid attention at dinner
last night. You only drink one kind of beer,” he said nodding his head in the direction of my drink.

There he went again pissing me off with his noticing shit most men wouldn’t. I corrected my earlier observation.

Stupid, thoughtful, attention paying ass!

Fortunately, our conversation took a more pleasant turn when he let me order my own dinner and the next round of drinks. Though he put his foot down at me paying for anything.

“I’m more than capable of paying for a round of drinks,” I told him, eyebrows raised, my hands on my hips. To anyone else I probably seemed like a bitch, but he only found it amusing.

“A man doesn’t let his woman pay, plain and simple, babe,” he told me, his tone one not to be messed with.

Hold on, when the hell had I become ‘his woman’? It was our first date for crying out loud!

After our relaxing meal, we had a few more drinks, made all that much better with the light easy conversation. Where the back and forth dropped off, there was a comfortable silence that simply didn’t need to be filled.

“How long were you with special ops then?” I figured I had to take this slow, and then maybe he’d give me something to work with.

“Six years roughly. How long have you been a tattooist?” His answer was brief, steering the conversation back again.

“I got my first tattoo here at eighteen.” I pointed to the ink on my bicep. “After that, I was hooked. I started my apprenticeship almost straightaway. Haven’t looked back.” He grabbed my arm and looked a little closer, the contact of his rough calloused fingers bringing the flush back to my cheeks.

“An engine?” he asked with raised brows.

“My dad and I we built cars from scratch; it was our thing. We always had an old engine we’d be fixing up.”

“The Cobra? You did that?” I’d seen him eyeing my car appreciatively.

“Yep, took us about six months, but she was well worth every second.”

“And the shoe?” he questioned, tipping his head to the side slightly. Looking back to my tattoo, I smiled. It was cute, an old car engine with a high heel sitting on top; this particular piece was all me.

“I have a slight obsession for heels. Well, any cute shoe really,” I mumbled, looking down at the table. I looked up when I heard him chuckle.

“I like your shoes; they make your legs go on forever”.

Trying to steer the conversation back, I asked more about his job. He let on a little bit, but no matter how I approached, I learned very little about Mace, other than he’d been doing tours all round; the last taking him away for over two years. There was something soothing about the way he spoke about it, an almost pained vibe though. It got to a point where he told me in a very indirect way that the topic was over. I could tell that he clearly didn’t like talking about himself. Constantly steering the conversation back to me and answering questions with questions was starting to irritate the shit out of me. Fortunately, Mace suggested a game of pool just before I was about to go all “I am woman hear me roar” on his ass.