Dark Ink Tattoo: Episode 2 (6 page)

She stood at the bottom of the bed, dissatisfied. I wasn’t the kind of IT manager she was used to, and frankly I was shit at trying to be. Time to stop pretending.  

I crossed my arms behind my head and looked at her. “I’m not paying you for pouting, Amber,” I said. “But I’ll pay you for an hour of your time, if you pull up your skirt and cowgirl up over my face.”

She inhaled, preparing to argue, then swallowed what she was going to say. “Yeah, sure, of course,” she said, walking up to the head of the bed to be by my side.

I crawled onto the mattress when she reached me, and slowly straddled me – she was so tiny the act hitched her skirt up to her waist, and I reached for both her lightly tanned thighs. I rubbed a thumb over the trail of paw-prints – it was well done, with no blow-outs, evenly spaced, even on the delicate and too-giving skin where it was placed. But the design was far from original, there were probably a thousand girls in Vegas right now with variations on wolf print tats. Because they were free, or they ran with the wolves, or their great-great-great-great-great grandmother was a Lakota Indian. In my time tattooing, I’d heard all the reasons, and in my experience, reasons were better off ignored – I was more interested in creating art.

“Do you like it?” she asked, looking down at me. There was a moment of vulnerability there – my current strangeness had made her afraid.

“I do,” I said kindly. “I like it a lot,” I said, and put my hands on her ass to push her pussy towards my mouth.

When she got there, legs splayed on either side of my shoulders, I reached in to pull her thighs apart, exposing herself to me. I breathed on her gently, once, twice, and then started in with the tip of my tongue, inspecting every fold, every crevice. She made noises, pretend ones I knew, like women in cheap porn, and started to writhe, reaching back a hand for my cock.

“Stop that,” I warned, grabbing both her wrists and pulling straight down, making her sit atop me, then I continued.

She tried making the noises again – I wondered if there was someone outside she was performing for, listening in – and I ignored her this time. Because I could sense the blood flowing down, feel the way she was becoming more swollen, scent the heat of her wetness rolling in. My tongue played with her, played against her, I sucked here, I sucked there, only staying in one place long enough to torture her.

And the sounds she made overhead slowly became more earnest, the way her breath hitched when I ground my chin up and into her pussy with its light stubble, the moans she released as I kissed her clit. Her thighs pulsed against me, wanting to ride, trying to show her more of me and I let go of her hands and grabbed for her waist to keep her near as I cupped my mouth around her clit and sucked on it like I was drawing the juices from a peach. Her breath caught again, this time off-kilter, as her thighs began to shudder. Her hands were on either side of my head, clawing into the mattress, pulling the sheets beneath me tight.

I growled into her pussy, letting the sound reverberate through her, pressed my chin higher, and then rolled my tongue over her clit, swollen and fat, again and again, her juices raining down on me.

She started with a soft scream, almost soundless, and then bucked forward hard, pounding my head into the mattress. She screamed three times after that, as her hips fucked me. I held on, kept rolling her thick clit with my tongue, kept my chin up for her grinding, until she let out one final shout and pulled away from me, kneeling over me in disarray.

“You,” she said when she could breathe again. “You – should bottle that.”

I kissed the inside of her thigh. “I would if I could.”

She brought a hand between us and stroked my lips, slick with
her
. “Will you do that again? If I blow you?”

“Yes.” My cock had been hard ever since her ass’d landed on me. “Turn around.”

Amber did as she was told, dismounting me one way, and spinning to mount me the other, setting her perfect ass on my chest. I felt her undo my belt, unzip my fly, and reach in. The second her hand wrapped my cock, I wanted to thrust. No matter what I’d done to Paco earlier in the night – the hunger was always waiting. Sometimes louder, sometimes quieter, but it was always there.

I heard her make an appreciative noise, and felt her tilt forward, as a lock of her hair fell across my balls sending a shiver up my spine. And then her little mouth opened and started kissing my head. Slowly and surely she started working her mouth down my cock. I could close my eyes and imagine her lips stretched tight, sliding down, as I felt her do so -- I made an animal sound and pulled her waist back towards me. With her like this here, it was easier to suck her, and I already knew how she liked it – I grabbed her ass with both hands, and buried my face between her legs, bringing her clit back to me.

She moaned, I could feel it on my cock, and she started sucking me, up and down, playing my shaft with her hand when it was out of her mouth, as she ground her hips into me, and soon there was something desperate in it, like she wasn’t in control anymore. She was working my cock, I could feel it sliding home to the back of her throat with each thrust, and I grabbed her bodily, rubbing her against me, trying to eat her pussy harder and have her take even more of my cock in turns.

  Then she braced up on all fours suddenly. I didn’t have time to complain before she reached into the pocket of her poor twisted skirt and threw a condom at me. “Put that on.”

I scrambled up, shoved my jeans lower, and slid the latex on me, pleased with the lipstick stains around my shaft, as she turned to present me her pussy. 

“Fuck me,” she panted, her pretty lipstick smeared.

“Of course,” I said, just as rough. I grabbed her hips and pulled her toward me.

My cock slid into her in one smooth motion. She was wet as hell, and she groaned as I reached deep inside her.

After that, it was fucking. Me her, her, me, our bodies knew what they wanted to take from each other. I pulled her ass apart to land me deeper and she tossed her head, making a guttural sound, her blonde hair streaming forward and back – like Angela’s. Amber had the same color hair, the same tight small body. God if only I was fucking Angela right now – my cock somehow got harder at the thought of it, of taking Angela like this, hilt deep in her hot pussy instead -- and I saw Amber’s hands winding in the sheets again.

“Don’t stop!” she begged me.

I reached forward and grabbed hold of her hair, yanking her back on me. “Does it feel like I’m stopping?” I growled, rhythmically thrusting. “I could go all night.”

She shuddered at this, and I felt her pussy start to quiver around me – I let go of her hair and grabbed her hips again, pounding myself in – if she was going to go I needed to go with her.

“God – oh – God – oh – oh!” her last word became something wild, as I brought her onto me and held her there, burying myself inside her, conscious of my own need for release. One long stroke, two long stroke, three – swording myself through her spasming pussy, feeling the life from her flow into me – I exhaled roughly as cum shot out of me in a rush, and my own hips bucked, shoving it deep into her. When I slowed, she buckled forward with final moan, and I slid out.

“What the fuck,” she whispered, to herself, not a question. I stepped off the bed and walked to the bathroom, looked for a trash can, found one, and saw that my condom was not the first of the night. “What the everliving fuck,” she said louder, as I walked back in the room.

“That’s kind of my thing,” I said. I pushed my cock back in my jeans and zipped up. After this session, everything on me needed to be laundered, and I might still have to explain to Paco why his lovely black sedan smelled like pussy and balls.

She rolled over and pushed herself up on her elbows as I came near, but still hadn’t pushed down her skirt. “So that tattoo -- what’s it mean?” I asked.

Her orgasmically pleased face smiled slowly. “Property of the Pack.”

The Pack? The notorious biker gang? I didn’t know them, but I knew of them, everyone even tangentially related to Vegas’s underbelly did. Why would they’ve been interested in Bella – or her, them?

I sat back down on the edge of the bed and tried to play off my silence. “You’re sure that’s what it means? Not return to sender? Or a sell-by date?”

Amber shoved her skirt down with a snort. “You’re so funny.”

“Yeah, sometimes I get that, too.” I pulled out my wallet and handed over a hundred and a few twenties. That was about the going rate for services on this side of town, plus a decent tip. People who worked in customer service had to have one another’s backs. “Think if I could stay another night, there’d be any way I could run into that dark haired chick again?”

She rolled on her stomach toward me to take my cash. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her around for the past week or two. I think she pissed someone off and is laying low.”

“Pissed off who?” I said, leaning in, bringing all the force of Paco’s blood behind it. Her eyes glazed for a moment, but I probably didn’t even need my whammy after the way I’d fucked her.

“I don’t know. One of the big guys. Wade, Murphy, Dalziel, or Jonah. But I don’t know which one.”
Damn.
She blinked and shrugged as my whammy faded. I rocked back up off the bed. I had to return the car and the shirt before I crawled into bed.

“Oh well,” I said, like her answer hadn’t mattered to me. “Thanks for the entertainment.” I walked to the door.

“You are more than welcome,” she said with a smile. “You know, when you said that…I almost believed you.”

I paused with the door open. “Which part?”

“The all night part.”

“Too bad my hour’s up. Guess we’ll never know.” I gave her a wolfish grin, and then closed the door behind me. 

Chapter 7

I watched the Fleur de Lis shrink as my driver pulled away. I’d almost spent the night there. The penthouse Mark’d taken me to – if anything had cemented the Cinderellaness of the evening, it’d been rolling around in 800 thread count sheets. But at 5 AM I’d made Mark let me leave him there, and he’d called a driver for me, they were outside the hotel’s roundabout the second the doorman opened the lobby’s door.

I had to be home and showered before Rabbit got up so I could take him to school. He knew I went out at night sometimes, but I wanted him to feel like he was most important, because he was.

And Mark…might actually get to meet him. That silly hopeful ache inside my chest got bigger.

I unlocked the door carefully and crept in, past my mother’s snores. My room had its own bathroom, thank God, so I was showered, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed by dawn, rousting Rabbit for his own shower. I didn’t feel nearly as tired as I had the prior night – why? Mark?

No. Her. I looked down at my chest like there was a way I could see my wolf surging underneath my skin. She was close – close enough to give me her strength. If only I could trust her there. I reached for cabinet over the coffee maker and pulled out my colloidal silver with its eyedropper.

Could I risk it? I liked feeling like this – powerful and present, ready to take on anything. I could see why the Pack worshipped it – this had to be more potent than any drug.

But my wolf was at heart an animal. She operated by different rules, ones I didn’t understand. And as long as I was operating in the world of mortal humans, I couldn’t take that chance – I closed my eyes and swallowed an eyedropper full of silver, feeling it sizzle on my tongue. Exhaustion came up almost instantly, as my wolf sank back and my frail body won.
Damn.
I went back upstairs to put more concealer on. I heard Rabbit’s shower cut out and him start singing the theme song to a video game he liked in Japanese.

And then someone rang the doorbell and pounded on the door.

Rabbit reached the stairs first, racing down ahead of me. “Hold up!” I shouted, as he went for the door. “What’d I tell you?”

Consternation furrowed his little face. “That only grown-ups can answer the door.”

“That’s right,” I said, shooing him away with one hand. I peeked out the peephole and didn’t see anything.

Had Mark sent flowers? I wasn’t the only one falling – I knew it.

Then I heard a motorcycle start up.
Oh no.
First Dark Ink – now my apartment? I leaned against the door till the bike was gone.

“Mommy?” Rabbit asked, sensing my fear.

I crouched down. “Shhhh. Go back and wake up Grandma.”

He didn’t want to, but he also didn’t want to disobey. Rabbit went down the hall as slowly as possible, looking back every chance he could. When he’d turned the corner, I opened the door.

There was nothing outside but a long box. I looked both ways down the hall before picking it up – there was something heavy inside, I could feel it rocking. With great reluctance, I took off the lid.

There was an unsigned note that read:

I still love you.

I mean it.

Over what I was very sure was Wade Davis’s severed cock.

I stumbled back inside and put it in my freezer where my mother couldn’t reach, as Rabbit tumbled back down the stairs. “Who was it? Grandma’s up!”

“It was nothing, sweetheart. An accident,” I said. But I knew the second I dropped Rabbit off at school, I was going to have to call Mark.

* * *

Thanks for reading the second episode of Dark Ink!

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