Beautiful Savage (Savage & Ink Book 2) Page 5

  This man is gorgeous. Definitely enough to have me imagining how he fucks, but he still doesn’t spark any emotions inside.

  Not like the guy who I hope is inside right now.

  I curve my finger at him, motioning for him to come to me.

  He pushes away from the wall and comes at me, stopping at the end of his friend’s bike.

  With a small smirk, I run my hand up his hard body, before I pull the joint from his lips and place it between mine.

  His lips tilt up into a cocky smirk, before he leans in and places his lips close to mine, waiting for me to blow the smoke into his mouth.

  Just as I go to blow the smoke out, he grabs the back of my head, holding me in place so his lips are brushing mine.

  This has me leaning in and biting his bottom lip so hard that he pulls away and licks the blood from his mouth. But before I can tell him off, we’re interrupted by a deep voice.

  “Don’t you have work to do or some shit, Blaine?”

  I look over Blaine’s shoulder to see another equally-as-hot guy standing by the door, looking aggravated.

  He’s blonde, covered in tattoos, and has a beard just a little longer than bossy bartender’s. With one look at him, you can tell he’s someone not to be messed with.

  “Can’t a motherfucker get a break around here?” Blaine reaches up and wipes his mouth off, before turning behind him to look at blondie. “Those assholes can wait. They’re not going anywhere anytime soon, Royal.”

  The blonde shrugs and lights up a cigarette. “You’re lucky Mark is here and decided to help sling some drinks for a bit since he’s off duty.” He turns his gaze in my direction, his gray eyes landing on me. “You here with this dick or the one whose bike you’re on? ‘Cause it’s crazy inside. Might want to stay close.”

  I swing my leg over the bike and walk toward the door, passing them both up. “I’m not here with anyone. I can handle my damn self.”

  I step inside, realizing it’s a different door than last time, because this one leads straight into the chaos of the bar.

  It’s loud, but seems to quiet down just long enough for gazes to land my way. I ignore them all, setting my attention straight on the bossy bartender.

  The angry look he gives me is just enough to set me on fire. Damn, he’s sexy when he’s angry. Maybe even a bit beautiful.

  His jaw clenches as he watches me make my way toward the bar, while him and some other sexy guy continue to serve drinks. The other guy must be this “Mark” person Royal mentioned outside.

  Bossy bartender is completely busy, but doesn’t take his eyes off me as I find an empty spot up at the bar and take a seat.

  My blood is pumping as his intense gaze stares me down, as if he’s challenging me. It gives me a small rush.

  “What are you doing back?” He slams a beer down in front of him and pops the cap off, before downing half of it. “Are you trying to make me rip someone’s throat out tonight?” He looks past me, his jaw still clenched tightly. “These men are ruthless bastards who give no fucks about what you want or don’t want. Unless you’re here with someone then you shouldn’t be here at all.”

  I smile and grab the beer from his hand, knowing damn well he’ll probably refuse to serve me one. “Then we can say I’m here with you. The beautiful, bossy bartender that everyone seems to be afraid of.” I tilt back the bottle, getting a tiny bit excited to place my lips where his just were.

  “Well, if you want them to believe you’re with me, babe . . .” He leans over the bar, grips the back of my hair with force, and sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, before releasing it with a growl.

  My heart is hammering inside my chest and my legs slightly tremble; a feeling I’ve never experienced before other than when I kissed Jaxon that night back when we were kids. “You better damn well play the part while you’re here. ‘Cause everyone’s dicks are about to jump out of their pants right now.”

  Pretending he doesn’t have me all fired up inside, I smile and lick my bottom lip as he releases my hair. “Playing is what I do best, beautiful bartender. It’s all I can do anymore. It’s how I survive.”

  He lifts a brow and stands back as I crawl over the bar, jump down in front of him, and grab the front of his shirt. He smells so damn good that I could seriously eat him up right now.

  “Is this what a girl with a man like you would do?” I tug on his beard and pull him closer, running my tongue up his lips. “Huh? Or would she do this?”

  His jaw flexes as I run my hand down his stiff abs, before lowering it to the sizeable bulge in his jeans and squeezing.

  It feels nice and big, full in my hand.

  I’m not really sure what has come over me. Maybe it’s the craving of how me makes me feel. I want more of what I felt when he pulled my bottom lip into his mouth.

  “I’d be real fucking careful about messing with big toys unless you’re able to handle them, because I don’t play nice.” He whispers the next part in my ear, causing me to slightly moan. “Never have, and I sure as hell won’t start now.”

  Gripping my hand, he pulls it away from his dick and reaches into the cooler, setting a beer down in front of where I was just sitting. “Now sit and drink where I can see you.”

  I smile and grab the beer, placing it to my lips. “And by the way . . . I don’t play nice either.”

  Ignoring his orders, I walk past him and the Mark guy and find an open spot in the room to dance.

  It only takes fifteen seconds for some asshole to grab my ass, but as soon as I turn around and eye him over, not impressed, he mumbles bitch and walks off.

  The bartender must’ve noticed, because the next thing I see is him slamming the asshole’s head down onto a table and saying something in his ear before he throws him down and walks away.

  Everyone around the room seems to keep their distance from me after that, because clearly this guy doesn’t mess around when it comes to someone pissing him off.

  Dancing, I tilt back my beer and watch as Blaine stops beside bartender and they begin talking.

  It’s not long before both sets of eyes are trained on me, the sexy guy from earlier looking overly cocky, while the bartender suddenly looks extremely pissed.

  I watch as he jumps over the bar and stalks toward me, as if he’s ready to choke me up against the wall, but instead, he grabs my arm and pulls me through the crowd and out the front door.

  Once outside, he immediately goes to the Harley I was sitting on and begins checking it out, as if looking for any scratches or dents.

  Of course, the sexy bike has to belong to the one person who’ll probably never allow me back on it again.

  “Who gave you permission to sit on my bike?” He looks behind him just long enough to give me a dirty as hell look.

  “There was no one out here to give me permission . . .” My heart speeds up as he walks back to me, stopping just inches from my face. “So, I didn’t ask.”

  “That’s a big mistake at a place like this. Do you just not give a shit about what happens to you?” He backs me up until I’m pressed against the building, his strong arms blocking me in. “Are you looking to fucking get hurt?”

  “Doesn’t matter what I’m looking for,” I say stiffly. “Because I gave up on that years ago.”

  He closes his eyes and releases a breath as if he’s thinking something over. When he opens his eyes again, the intensity behind his stare has me swallowing. “Why is it that I want to protect you so much? What is it about you that draws me in?”

  I open my mouth, but can’t think of a response. Honestly, I was wondering that myself.

  I’ve never had anyone want to protect me so much before, other than Jaxon.

  But this stranger . . . Ever since he pulled up beside me on his bike, he’s been trying to keep me out of harm’s way.

  “Maybe it’s because you know I’m broken, irreparable, and you need a challenge to get your blood pumping.” I push on his chest, but he doesn’t budge. “Well, baby, I’m the
biggest challenge you’ll meet. Now move.”

  With that, I push him away from me and head back inside.

  There’s got to be one damn person in this bar able to give me that tattoo I so desperately need right now.

  And since he’s working the bar, I can only assume it’s one of the other two men who can help me.

  I could really use a distraction from this man who has a way of working me up unlike anyone else has in years . . .

  WHAT IS THIS WOMAN DOING to me? I swear she came back just to taunt me and piss me off to the point I want to rip her clothes off, slam her against the closest surface, and fuck her until she goes limp in my arms.

  I want to exhaust her mind, her body, and her sassy fucking mouth.

  I ended last night thinking I’d never see her again, yet here she is, working me up once again.

  Taking a few moments to cool off, I light up a smoke and hope like hell she doesn’t manage to get into any trouble while I’m out here.

  But knowing Blaine is inside, I don’t really need to wonder. She’s for sure getting into trouble.

  That dirty son of a bitch. I’m not sure why but it pissed me off to hear he was close to kissing her on my bike before she came inside.

  The thought alone had me wanting to rip his throat out.

  After a few drags, I toss my cigarette at the building and make my way inside to see Royal and Mark standing at the bar talking.

  “Where’s Blaine?” I ask stiffly, while looking around.

  Mark gives me a small smile and pours himself a shot of whiskey. He’s been hanging here a lot when he’s off duty, and although most people know he’s a cop, they still give no shits when it comes to doing what they want here. “That sassy redhead came barging in here asking for a tattoo. She’s in the back with Blaine. She practically dragged him away by his neck.”

  “Shit!” I reach out and knock over a half empty glass, before I shove the door open and head toward the tattoo room.

  My blood is boiling because I know without a doubt Blaine will try to fuck her before the night is over.

  I really shouldn’t give a damn and it’s none of my business, yet for some reason I do and I’m making it my business.

  Stopping at the window, I look inside to see her peeling her shirt off and undoing her bra, while Blaine is sitting in the chair, his eyes on her as he slaps a pair of black gloves on.

  A few seconds goes by before she notices me standing outside the room, but instead of waiting for me to walk away, she locks her eyes with mine and pulls her bra straps down her arms.

  The way she bites her bottom lip as my gaze roams over her body has my cock jumping with excitement.

  She’s doing this shit on purpose just to get a reaction out of me. I can tell, because she’s paying no attention to Blaine whatsoever, as if he’s not even in the room.

  It’s when she goes to slide her hand down her stomach that I barge into the room and throw Blaine a hard look. “Get the fuck out.” I bark out. “I’ll take care of her.”

  Blaine flashes me a surprised smile as he stands up, yanks the gloves off, and tosses them behind him. “I thought you couldn’t do tattoos for shit?”

  “It’s not that I can’t. That was a lie to keep me at the bar so I could keep an eye on things better. If I get stuck back here while you watch the bar, we’d probably end up having to replace all the damn windows.”

  He shrugs and pulls out a smoke. “It’s all good. My hand could use a break anyway. She wants an angel with dream catcher elements.” He smirks and raises a brow. “Starting low on her hip and stopping right under her left breast. It may take a while.”

  Well, shit. She definitely doesn’t play around. This shit will take a good two sessions.

  “I got it. Tell Royal I’ll be occupied for a few hours. See if Mark will stay until I’m done.”

  “Good luck, dickhead.” Blaine exits the room and my attention instantly goes to the sassy woman beside me.

  My jaw clenches as I watch her undo her jeans, teasing me with her eyes as she slowly lowers them down her hips.

  I’ve never had a woman work me up this way. And it pisses me off that she’s able to.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I ask stiffly.

  She lets out a sexy little laugh while lowering her jeans even more. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  “Pissing me off.”

  “Good,” she whispers, lowering the strap of her black thong. “I’m getting prepared for my tattoo too. In case you’re wondering what else I’m doing. You know . . . other than pissing you off.”

  My teeth are clenched so tightly watching her that it’s beginning to hurt, but I’m not going to touch her just because she’s tempting me to.

  A woman like this is probably used to every guy giving into her, but she’s about to get a wake-up call.

  I catch her eyes lowering to my dick. “You’re hard, beautiful bartender. Do something about it. Show me what it’s like to really belong to you.”

  I growl and run my hand over my cock, watching her chest as it begins moving faster with each stroke above my jeans.

  She’s playing a game she won’t win, but she wants to play so I’ll play.

  Locking my gaze with hers, I slowly undo my belt and jeans, smirking as she breaks eye contact to watch what I’m doing.

  She lets out a desperate moan and squeezes her thighs together as I slide my hand down my boxer briefs and begin stroking my cock for her.

  I can tell she’s desperate to see what I have packing under these jeans, but I keep it put away on purpose just to tease her.

  “Is this what you want from me? Huh? Me stroking my dick for you? I want nothing more than to come right now, but just because you want me to, I won’t.”

  With that, I release my dick and walk over to grip the chair and lean down close to her face. She’s breathing heavily, giving me a dirty as hell look, because we both know she was getting off to me touching myself for her. “Don’t fuck with me, because I will win, babe. I don’t even need to whip the big guy out to get the job done. Just the thought of it is enough for most women. Just imagine how it must be once it’s actually inside of you.”

  I don’t even give her time to speak before I walk over to the sink and wash my hands.

  “Do you do this often?” she asks as I slip a pair of gloves on.

  “Do what? Tattoo?”

  “Tease a woman and then leave her hanging.”

  I turn around to face her. “Nope.”

  She narrows her eyes and relaxes in the chair. “I was only testing you to see how far you’d go. If I really wanted you to come . . . then I’d do it my damn self.”

  Her words have my cock hard again and me cussing under my breath.

  “What makes you think I’d let you?”

  “The way you look at me.” She lowers her gaze down to the bulge in my jeans. “And the fact that you can’t seem to keep your dick soft around me.”

  I grab for the green soap and spray her skin, but it’s when I go to wipe it off with a paper towel that I notice the scars on her body. They look to be older, but it’s hard to tell for sure.

  They’re all over in random spots as if they were put there by someone. The thought has me clenching my jaw, reminding me of how Alexandra’s father used to hurt her. It has rage rushing to the surface at the memories.

  “Who hurt you?”

  My question has her sitting up and yanking her shirt back on. “Someone from my past I’d rather forget about.”

  “A guy?” The fact that someone actually was the cause of all these scars has my blood boiling with rage.

  “Doesn’t matter,” she says as she stands up and fixes her clothing. “I didn’t come here to have you question me about something that is none of your damn business.”

  “Maybe I should make it my business so whoever fucking hurt you pays for what they did.” I move in close and grab her chin before she can turn away from me. “No one should ever be able to hu
rt you this way and get away with it, so don’t ever for one second believe that shit.”

  The look in her eyes tells me she’s thinking about something deep.

  “I should go. Forget the tattoo.”

  Just like that she walks away, leaving me alone, lost in my thoughts.

  There was something familiar about the way she looked at me before she walked away a few moments ago, as if I’ve seen that look before. It’s eating away at me. I’m trying to figure it out.

  The anger consumes me for the next hour or so. The result is slamming down bottles and glasses, practically scaring everyone off from wanting to order from me.

  “You good, Man?” Mark swipes his arm across the bar, knocking a bunch of empty bottles into the trash. “I’ve gotta stop by and visit Avalon before it gets too late so she can cut this mop of mine. I told Royal before he left that I’d be over no later than eleven.”

  I look behind me just as he’s running his hand through his long hair. “Yeah. I’m good. Blaine will stay.”

  “All right, Man.” He pats my shoulder and slips on his jacket. “I’ll catch ya later.”

  “Later, Man. And hey . . .”

  He stops walking to look back at me.

  “Thanks for helping out here. It’s not your job, yet you seem to be doing it a lot these days. Appreciate it.”

  “Family helps family.” He smiles and begins backing up toward the door. “So, it’s not a problem.”

  Once Mark is gone, I begin looking around the room to see who’s all still here.

  We’re down to a handful of people, which is a hell of a lot better than the crowd I had to deal with late last night.

  I’m hoping it’ll be an easy close tonight. I might even leave early and let Blaine close up if he can guarantee he won’t get into any trouble after I’m gone.

  But we all know that’s never guaranteed.

  Blaine comes in from outside a few minutes later and pours himself a drink.

  Tilting it back, he leans against the wall and looks me over before speaking. “What was that shit about? She getting under your skin already, brother?”