Tattered Love (Needle's Kiss) (7 page)

We pulled up to Ma’s after a fairly quiet ride, since Scar was mad at me or some shit. She had this stupid idea about rules. The only one I agreed with was that I wouldn’t share her. Not with anyone. The thought of anyone touching her sweet little body made my blood boil. I wasn’t sure if she even realized the flaw in her cute little display of said rules. Even after she laid down the law, she still came on the date with me.

Scarlett was going to learn a few important things about me; if I wanted something, I’d do almost anything to make it happen. It had been part of my job in the special ops for around ten years. It was drilled deep in my head: work any angle you could find to your advantage, the end result should never be any less than victory. Scarlett triggered something in me that I hadn’t felt for a long time. She seemed to calm the storm in my mind; my anxiety and hurt dimmed when she was around. It didn’t matter her mood, so long as she was near me, shit was just easier. The only nights I managed to sleep without the nightmares was when she was beside me. I hadn’t known her long, but I had a way of reading people. Scarlett had been hurt by someone she trusted, someone close to her. She had trust issues, that much was plain as day. I was determined to break down her carefully built walls.

I wasn’t without my secrets, ones that haunted me night and day—secrets she would find out about eventually. It was an asshole move, but I hoped I could get far enough under her skin before she knew about my past. I wasn’t a good person. I was responsible for the loss of more than one life; I wasn’t good enough for a woman like Scarlett, but she made me want to be the person she deserved.

The hardest part of it was that I was keeping the darkest part of my life a secret which was attached to the most precious thing a person could have. Love. Losing her had broken me, shattered a piece of my heart that would never heal. One mistake that had cost me my world.

“Mace?” Scarlett’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned toward her concerned face. Shit, I was zoning out. “Wait there and I’ll help you down.”

By the time I made it to the passenger side of my truck, she was stomping toward the house. I smirked to myself; she was trying to prove a point; however, all she’d served to do was turn me on again. Scarlett in a pissy mood was hot as fuck. With a sigh, I followed behind her watching that perfect curvy ass sway seductively with each step. I wanted to bend her over and take her from behind.

Once at the door, I reached over and pushed it open, grabbed her hand and pulled her behind me. “Fuck, you’re cute when you’re pissy, babe”

“I’m annoyed. Annoyed isn’t cute. It’s just annoyed. I don’t do cute,” she hissed, making me chuckle.

Yep, cute as fuck.

An hour later, watching from my spot at the grill with Trip, I was irritated and ready to lose my shit. My mood must have been rolling off me in waves because Trip was riding my ass. “Reel it in, brother; he’s harmless and Scar can take care of herself. I’ve seen what she can do. You make a girl like that mad and you’re gonna pay for it.”

“That little prick puts his hand near her again, I’m gonna break it for him,” I growled which made Trip burst out laughing. “Not funny, asshole.” Without taking my eyes off the scene in front of me, I reached over and punched his arm.

“Not really my place to say, but be fucking careful there. I love that girl’s attitude, but beneath it, she’s a little damaged.”

Why hadn’t I thought to ask Trip
?

Trip clearly cared for Scarlett, so he probably wouldn’t say much, but it was worth a try. I just had to be careful with how I approached.

“What kind of damaged?”

“Scar’s had some shit luck with douchebags takin’ her for a ride. Especially that last one Mick…Rick…Nick, whatever the hell his name was.” Trip sobered. “He screwed her around, screwed around on her, and generally was bad fucking news. You’re my blood and all, but you know, you hurt her and I’m gonna have to knock you around a bit, right?”

“You know you haven’t been able to get a hit in since you were six, and then it was only because Ma would’ve kicked my ass if you didn’t win a few.” I would have laughed at the idea of my little brother knocking me around if the situation was any different, yet the guy in Scar’s face was bugging the shit outta me. My temper was flaring and I had the strong urge to break the dude’s face.

I watched her from across the yard.

There he was. Again. I scowled.

Fucker better watch himself.

Rage coiled in my gut as I watched the douchebag reach past Scar for a fresh drink. It looked accidental when he brushed past her tits, but I knew better. That was a move I would’ve used in my youth to let a girl know what’s up.

When he moved back from her, he tipped his cup ever so slightly causing the contents to pour out onto Scar’s chest. She squeaked from the sudden cold no doubt. The front of her dress was saturated, and my stomach dipped when I realized I could see through it. If I could see through it from here, the fucking douche was getting a front row view of my girl’s tits.

Not fucking happening

The demon awoke in me, and before I could think, I was making my way over there in long strides.

Halfway there, I saw the guy smirk and wipe the front of Scar’s transparent shirt. Scar’s shoulders tensed and her face became devoid of any expression. The fucker was making her uncomfortable.

Fuck no. I don’t like it.

He leaned forward and whispered something into her ear. Her shoulders stiffened even more.

The pressure in my skull built till the blood roared in my ears. My jaw ticked.

Go time.

As soon as I reached them, I cocked my arm back and stopped mid punch.

Holy shit.

Scarlett had knocked him on his ass; blood was pissing down his face. My eyes didn’t leave Scarlett’s. I could hear him cursing. Teeny, who had been standing beside them, gave him an earful and punched into him while Trip was pulling her off, trying to calm her down. All that going on, and my rage was instantly taken over by lust. The blood that was raging in my head went south. I watched Scarlett shake her hand out; that was a hell of a punch. I blinked once, twice, grabbed her by the waist, and threw her over my shoulder in a fireman’s hold.

I need her now, right fucking now.

“Mace! What the fuck?” Scarlett asked. I walked inside, right through the kitchen and took the stairs two at a time. Turning into the bathroom, I closed and locked the door. I deposited Scarlett on the bathroom counter, one hand sliding up her dress and along her thigh while the other went behind her neck bringing her mouth to mine.

“That was fucking hot, babe,” I growled, my lips moving over her neck. Scarlett stilled for a moment before she attacked me with her hands, mouth and teeth.

Nipping, licking and teasing, her lips traveled down over me with a need that rivalled mine. I ripped her soaked dress up and over her head, leaving her sitting in nothing but a pair of tiny bikini bottoms tied at the sides with string, her perfect tits moving with her deep uneven breaths, and hard nipples begging to be sucked. Leaning down, I nipped at her left nipple; she arched back, pushing her chest into my mouth with a whimper. My cock twitched when her fingers dug into my hair, holding my head against her heaving chest.

Next thing I knew, she’d slid off the counter, and right to the floor on her knees in front of me. She pulled my shorts down around my feet, licked her full lips and wrapped her delicate soft hands around my cock. She smiled up at me, and I damn near lost it right there. “Fuck me,” I groaned when her warm tongue flicked at the head of my rock-hard dick. I balled my hands into fists; the sight of my throbbing cock sliding in and out of her mouth had my balls drawing painfully tight as the base of my spine started to tingle. The soft vibration as she moaned went right through me. Watching her enjoy sucking me off, I saw as she slipped her hand down to pleasure herself. I could just make out her flicking her finger over the tiny gold ring at her clit, the sight almost made me cum in her mouth. I gripped under her shoulders and hefted her up onto the sink, ripped those bikini pants off and plunged in deep and fast, tearing a loud groan from both of us. “Fuck, so tight.”

Shit, she felt good. It must have been the heat of the moment, but I felt every inch of her velvet soft heat like I hadn’t before. I gripped her hips tight and kept up a steady rhythm. Scarlett threw her head back, scraped her nails down my back and demanded, “More. Harder, Mace. Oh, God, yes. Oh!”

Her pussy clamped onto my strained cock when she screamed out, her mouth slightly parted, “I’m gonna come”.

“Fuck, yes, babe. Give it to me.” I drove into her, my cock jerking as I came deep.

When the shockwaves died down and my breathing returned to something close to normal, I started to pull out and stilled, my body locked up tight, panic ripping through me.

Fuck, shit, fuck.

“Babe, tell me you’re on the pill or something.” I looked up to Scarlett’s slightly dazed face. “Babe?” I prompted. “We didn’t use a rubber.”

We didn’t use a rubber? What?

It took a moment for Mace’s words to register.

I swallowed hard and answered softly, “We’re good. I’m on the pill.” The second those words left my mouth, he physically relaxed. The last thing either of us needed was a scare like that.

Fuck.

I couldn't believe I'd let go so much that I hadn't used protection. What the fuck was I thinking? Yes, I was on the pill, but that didn't stop any of the other shit from possibly happening. I took a deep breath, and tried to think rationally. Did I really think there was a chance of me getting some fucked up disease from Mace? No. He'd only just returned from a celibate life in the military. I wouldn't have let his dick anywhere near my vajayjay if I'd have thought he was rancid.

He must have read my face, because before I even opened my mouth to ask, he smirked at me. “I’m clean. You’re on the pill, and if you weren’t clean, I assume you would have said something before now?”

Fuck me. Apparently, not only was I an easy lay when it came to all things Mace, but I was pretty darn easy to read too. I really needed to work on my poker face.

He paused a moment before capturing my face. Cupping both cheeks, he leaned in close, “I’ve had you bare now, babe. Not goin’ back.”

I wanted to argue simply because he assumed I was okay with that, but I
was
okay with that, more than okay with that.
Shit, he was getting to me.
I liked Mace more than I should; he was getting under my skin.
No feelings, Scarlett,
I reminded myself.

God damn it!

I looked at my surroundings and realized we were in his mother’s bathroom.

Oh dear God!

He’d carried me up here. I doubted anyone hadn’t known why we had been gone so long. I jumped down off the counter and started getting dressed.

I whisper-hissed, “Mace, we’re in your mother’s bathroom. We just had sex in your mother’s bathroom. With your family downstairs.” I felt like gagging. I couldn’t decide if I was simply angry or panicking, maybe a little of both.

“They were occupied with that asshole. Think you broke his nose.” He picked up my hand that was throbbing and looked a little red. “Your hand okay? You’ll need some ice on that.”

The anger and panic slid away the moment the concerned expression hit his face. “It’s fine just a little tender.”

“Where’d you learn to hit like that?” Mace asked, running his thumb softly across my knuckles.

His sweetness was messing with my head. I needed some space and pronto. Pulling my hand away, I started for the door “My dad, he always said a girl should know how to defend herself. Guess now I know why.”

Mace was dangerous to me. Not just because he threatened to tear away at all the protective measures I’d taken to ensure nobody ever took me for a fool again, but because I wanted him, like I hadn’t wanted anyone before him, and it was scaring the crap out of me.

I excused myself and went back downstairs. Teeny was lounging by the pool, all signs of drama gone. “Teen, I’m having a God damn crisis,” I muttered heatedly under my breath.

Plonking down into the empty lounger beside her, she looked over the top of her sunglasses at me and smiled big. “Dunno what kinda crisis that is, but if the flush in your cheeks and your just-fucked hair is anything to go by, I’ll take a few crises for myself thanks”.

“You’re supposed to be helping me here. What the fuck am I doing? It was supposed to be sex—plain and simple. Casual sex. That was all it was meant to be!” I whined.

Stop acting like a damn girl!

A look of annoyance crossed Teeny’s face before she scowled at me “What the fuck you’re doing is pulling your head outta your ass and getting with the motherfucking program, babe.”

“What the fuck?”

She calmed herself, turned back to me and said, “Scar, inside right now is a sexy-as-hell guy, who’s so into you, it’s kinda scary. He’s a decent guy from what I can see, and you are standing in your own way. What if he’s
it
, babe? What if he’s not just another asshole wrapped in tin foil? What if he’s your knight in shining armor? Are you going to throw that chance away because you’re a little scared?”

Well she kind of made sense. What could it hurt? It was only my heart, right?

Just as I had been about to tell her what I was feeling for Mace and just how scared I was, I felt his presence behind me, followed by his deep voice by my ear, “Keep this on it for a bit, babe. You won’t be inking anyone for a few days, but this’ll keep the swelling to a minimum.” Mace reached over and gently placed a towel full of ice on my hand, kissed the side of my neck and walked off toward the drinks cooler. Teeny and I both watched after him as he grabbed three beers and headed back our way.

“What if he breaks my heart?”

“What if he doesn’t?” Teeny answered, looking past me.

I hated when she was right.

I jumped up. As I walked past Mace, he handed me my beer and wrapped a large strong arm around my waist halting my progress. “Starting to get it now, aren’t you? I’m gonna get what I want here, Scar. Forget casual sex, babe; this isn’t just a bit of fun,” he said, snuggling his face into my neck.

My heart skipped a beat. Avoiding his question all together, I muttered, “Goin’ to change.”

I turned and went to get ready for the pool, thinking that Mace might just be that dream guy I was chasing. If it wasn’t for the niggling feeling he was hiding something...

The rest of the day was a blast; the sun was shining, the drinks were cold, there was great food and even better friends. Teeny, Haven, Milla, a few of the other girls and I decided to play an impromptu game of water volleyball, leaving everyone in a fit of giggles. Mostly caused by Teeny and I dunking each other; we were both competitive even when on the same team.

Mace had been hands on since our little chat earlier, always finding a reason to have his hand on me, kiss me or just be near me. I realized quickly he was a very attentive guy, which didn’t bother me in the slightest. If I was honest with myself, I loved the feel of his strong, hard body pressed up against my back, his thick arm wrapped around my waist, hand on my hip in a slightly possessive but still sweet gesture. He made me feel all that warm, squishy shit deep in my stomach.

I was still at a standstill with myself, but figured what was the harm in lapping up the affection for a while, having a little fun while it lasted. I wasn’t leading him on; he knew where I stood.

Thick arms wrapped around my waist. Mace’s warm body pressed against my back as he kissed my neck and whispered against the shell of my ear, “Ready to go, babe?”

“Mmm-hmm, sure. Can you take me to the shop first?” Earlier in the day, I’d had an idea, and seeing as the swelling had gone down in my hand, allowing me to move it freely, I figured now was as good a time as any.

“What’re we doing here?” Mace asked as I turned on the lights in the back of the parlor and made my way to my station.

“You said you wanted more ink. You’re getting an afterhours appointment”

Surprised, he asked, “You’re gonna do it now? Are you sure? What about your hand?

“My hand’s fine now, see.” I flexed my hand a few times to show him it was okay. “I’ve got the sketch you drew up ready to go; all I need is my canvas.” I pulled all my equipment out and checked everything was wrapped and set in the right places. I sat on my rolling stool in front of Mace which put me directly at crotch level, really not the best place for my concentration at that point. Clearing my throat, I spoke softly “You need to lose the—Oh…”

Mace stood before me shirtless; his bare chest and washboard abs on display made my mouth water. My gaze followed his stomach down along the light trail of hair leading into the top of his pants, those perfect V shaped lower abdominal muscles were enough to make any woman want to lean forward and lick them. My panties became wet as my thoughts careened directly to the gutter. “Hop up on the table, and lie down on your left side for me, please.”

I cleaned and prepped Mace’s arms. The whole while I felt his eyes on me, heating my skin from the inside out. Placing the stencil was a little distracting to say the least, the tips of my fingers running over his smooth skin, the feel of his accelerated heartbeat, the warmth of his body. His intoxicating smell so close to me had me breathing heavier than normal. Looking over to see he had been watching intently, sent goose bumps across my skin.

“You’re so damn pretty, Scarlett,” he told me quietly. His eyes held the conviction his voice showed.

Rather than betray my haywire feelings by replying, I instead asked, “This sitting where you want?” I nodded to his ribs; even I could hear the breathless way my words came out.

The hand holding my tattoo gun came down gently to his skin, the vibrations added to the familiar feelings that always came with inking someone coursed through my body. Something about the buzz of my machine, the lines, the patterns, the curves in every piece of work I permanently made on skin, the power in my hands to make or break a tattoo in one single movement of my wrist, oddly left me with a sense of controlled calm. I would slip into a zone where I concentrated on nothing but the ink and my canvas. The moment a customer sat down before me, they became another of my masterpieces. Whether it was a small piece, a half of their arm or their entire back, it mattered no less to me. Skin and ink, ink on skin: it was my life, my love, my passion. Every little bit of my art deserved my undivided attention and the utmost care.

Mace’s skin was a shocking contrast under my hands; rock hard muscles which I was positive he worked hard to maintain, covered with perfectly smooth soft skin, teamed with a scar or two; the only things marring his complexion. His body was stunning, a work of art on its own, with masculinity that could take your breath away. A body like his was worth waiting to work on, images that would come together perfectly flashed through my mind; there were so many things I’d like to do to his body and not all of them were done with ink.

Mace had chosen a memorial tattoo to honor his late father; he explained a few things he wanted, leaving me to draw it up for him. It was gorgeous, complex and very fitting. Hector, Mace’s father, had grown roses most of his life; it was one of his many passions. A large black and grey scale cross that started under his arm and ran almost the entire length of his ribs was intricately wrapped in a rose bush featuring three vibrant red roses, all in different states of bloom, representing different things. The first in full bloom for the full life he had lived, the second wilted, though still bright with petals falling from it for the loss of his life cut so short, and the third a closed rosebud signifying the life events he would miss not being here, his children growing, falling in love, starting families of their own. Underneath this, a tiny little child’s hand held gently by a protective masculine one. This part I didn’t quite understand. I did gather it was of strong importance and Mace hadn’t seemed eager to explain, so I left it alone.

Four long hours later, I took one last swipe of his ribcage with paper towel to remove the excess ink; the result was jaw dropping. Your own work is always the hardest to critique; however, this piece was breathtaking and made me a little bit proud. I reached over him, grabbed my camera from the shelf against the wall and asked, “You mind if I take a few photos?”

“Knock yourself out, babe” His voice sent chills down my spine, the man had a fucking awesome voice, all dark and rumbling. It was like sex, covered in chocolate, decadent and so very bad for you, but so good you couldn’t deny yourself any of it, just like the rest of him.