“I’m not going to fuck you. Not now, ‘cause this is not what this is about,” he says in-between each kiss, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to. Fuck, I want to,” he groans, taking my hand and bringing it to his hardness that's covered in denim. “Believe me, I want to strip you out of these sexy-as-fuck pajamas, and worship every inch of this fucking milky skin, but I can’t,” he growls into my neck when I groan in frustration. “Don’t do that, baby. It’s only going to make this harder.” He pulls back to look at me. “I didn’t start this to go there. I just needed to kiss you.”

“Okay.” A combination of relief and frustration fills me. “So you just want to be friends who kiss?” I ask, trying to get my head around this. I hold back my internal mantra pleading him to say no.

“Fuck no. I want you to be my woman and I want to fuck you so hard that you won’t ever want to be anyone else’s,” he rumbles, making my body yearn for more. “But I also know you’ve got shit going on and I’m not gonna push you.” His thumb traces my bruised lips, his top teeth biting down on his bottom lip when I let my tongue peek out.

“Holly,” he warns, resting our foreheads together.

“Okay,” I agree, knowing this is what we need, what I need. My body might want to move to the next step, but my heart knows that whatever is happening can’t be rushed.

“I don’t want to fuck this up, Holly. So for now, dinners, kissing and when I’m not kissing you, I’ll take you on a ride. But if you ever tell the boys, shit will get serious,” he warns and I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. Sy joking, kissing and teasing me is not what I ever expected from him. It might not be wise to let him give me this light when I'm still holding so much back, but I’ve been surrounded by darkness for so long that the small glimmer of hope he offers shines so brightly. I can't help but pray I can find a way out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Sy

I’ll be over at 5pm.

I read my text again for the fifth time before I decide to send it. Fuck it. If it’s coming on too strong, she’ll just have to deal with it.

After spending the day on the bike with Holly last Sunday, I dropped her home and went back to the clubhouse. I threw a few back with the boys and then crawled into bed, replaying the whole day over in my mind. I had no intention at all to drop in to see her, but before I knew it, I made my way to her place and was knocking on her door. I had no idea that our morning would end up the way it did. I knew going into this with Holly that it would be a slow burn, not something like we had in the beginning and I was okay with that. It's not what I want. I want to sink myself inside of her, but fuck me, after that kiss, I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I don’t want to rush her; whatever she decides she needs, I’m ready to do. It’s been a long time since I’ve let a woman affect me like this, or given this much away. I know I’m entering new territory, something I never thought I’d see myself doing again, but there is something about her that makes me want to try again. I know one day, if this continues, I’ll need to tell her about my past, let her in on what I live with, but even the thought of letting her in doesn’t sound so bad.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jesse says, looking back over his shoulder to watch me set up my station.

“Shut the fuck up and turn around,” I tell him, pocketing my phone, gloving up and trying to get Holly out of my head. The asshole is in for ink and I’ll be fucked if I’m going to sit around sharing stories.

“Who the fuck you texting? Never seen you look at your phone so much,” he states, turning back around.

“No one,” I tell him, cleaning the area I’m about to work on. I’m not about to tell him about Holly. The asshole will be all over that.

“Didn’t look like no one.”

“Jesse, shut the fuck up.”

“Whatever, they’ll soon realize what an asshole you are,” he laughs, but I don’t. Holly already knows I’m an asshole.

“Why the fuck are you in such a good mood this morning?” I ask him, checking the placement and making sure it’s even.

“Aww, man. Bagged this chick last night in the back room of Liquid. So freakin’ tight,” he groans, remembering the moment.

“Jesus, Jesse, I don’t want to know about that shit,” I scold. Jesse is the biggest fucking whore. I sometimes worry about his manhood. “I hope you’re fucking wrapping that shit up.”

“Always, brother, always,” he laughs, resting back.

“How’s that?” I ask, checking the placement on his ribs. This design he’s had me working on for the last few weeks will eventually be huge. Starting from the top of his ribs, down his side and around to his back; each and every detail of the drawing is a significant moment to him. I don’t ask questions. I just draw up his design. In this case, I tidied up Jesse’s design. I didn’t expect to learn he had hand-drawn the sketch he handed me a few weeks back himself.

“Fucking A,” he says, standing in front of the mirror. “Let's do this,” he insists, coming to lie back down on his side.

“You at Liquid tonight?” I ask, settling in for the two-hour job. This is the only place you’ll ever find me seeking out pointless conversation. The sound of my ink gun buzzing, and dull, monotonous talk—there is something about it that calms my mind.

“Yeah, girls have their party tomorrow night. Need to sort that shit out,” he says, revealing one bit of the puzzle Holly has been hiding.

“They’re having it there?”

“Yeah, fucking stripper and all.”

What the fuck? Like hell is some fucker gonna swing his dick in Holly’s face.

“Does Nix know this?” I look up, pissed he would even be okay with this shit.

“I don’t think he does. Was going to talk to him about it tonight,” he says, looking down at the needle.

“Can’t see him being all right about it,” I put out there as I go back to tattooing Jesse’s side.

“I’m betting he won’t be, but he’s whipped so who fucking knows what he’s gonna do.”

“I say we cancel that shit. Some asshole swinging his dick in his old lady’s face… the picture alone will have him coming out of his skin,” Jesse laughs, moving too much for me to keep going. I don’t know about Nix, but the picture has me seeing fucking red.

“Or we could call in new talent,” he grins and I can already tell I’m going to like the idea that’s running through his head.

“What sort of new talent?”

“The sort that will piss them off, and make for a good fucking laugh.”

“Let’s do it,” I agree, not needing to think on it. Holly isn’t seeing some other guy’s cock when she only needs to see mine.

“Wanna run it by the Prez?” Jesse suggests, reaching for his cell.

“Fuck no, just do it,” I order. Nix will agree anyway. This way his hands are clean.

“Holly’s going to shit a brick,” he warns, searching his phone for the contact. She probably will, but I’d rather a pissed off Holly than a turned on one. If anyone is making her wet, it’s gonna be me. I don’t say that to Jesse, just continue tattooing his ribs while he makes the call. As of tomorrow, I know I’m in deep shit, but I can’t help the smile forming from just thinking about it.

***

“What’s happening at this bachelorette party?” I ask her later that day from my position on her sofa. As soon as I arrived at hers, I made myself comfortable and have been firmly fixed on my back while she reads.

“We’re just going to Liquid. Why?” she asks suspiciously, looking over her book at me. Her eyes narrow when I don’t respond.

“Anything else I need to know about?” I finally ask.

“Nope,” she smiles, going back to her book. Even if I didn’t know she was lying for sure, the guilt plastered all over her face is a dead-set give away.

“What the fuck are you reading anyway?” I ask, annoyed she isn’t giving me her attention.