Reckless Rebel: A Hero Club Novel

by TC Matson

  My self-worth is more important. What a horrible thing to say to him. Shame floods me. What the hell was I thinking? Dad would throttle me if he knew I was being so cold hearted, so condemning. Even after mom tore his heart out of his chest and ripped it to shreds, he taught me to love. He raised me to be good, yet I’m acting just like that bitch.

  “I think you owe Ash an apology and some makeup sex.”

  I blow a laugh. “An apology. No sex.”

  Ash didn’t deserve to be the punching bag for my insecurities. He didn’t deserve to be the target of my hatred toward my mother and the things he reminds me of. It was a callous move.

  I need Dotty therapy. She always knows what to say.

  Chapter Ten

  The hum from the machine is supposed to be therapeutic, a distraction from the cluttered mess of thoughts in my head. It isn’t. Neither is the smooth-skinned, half-naked female with the fire engine red thong my hands are on.

  Misty’s a regular and always creative. This time she’s in for a red lotus with tribal weaving all around it as it spreads from the front of her hip and rounds to her ass.

  “Give it a squeeze,” she says. “Maybe a little spank.”

  I’m highly aware it wasn’t a good move on my part when I set us up in a private room. It’s just the two of us, a small workspace and no way around where my hands have to touch. Her sights have been set on me since she first stepped foot into the shop two years ago. She won’t let anyone else tat her even though she knows my rules.

  Is she beautiful? Abso-fucking-lutely. But regardless, I won’t violate my only rule. Unless one gorgeous golden-blonde with amber eyes decides she wants a tattoo. For her, I’ll throw the rule out the window. All bets off.

  Her words have played havoc on my mind. They’ve been on constant repeat and have done nothing but piss me off more. She’s guarded with her heart locked down tightly. It’s clear she’s been hurt in the past and still, after her shitty words, I want to be the one who makes her forget about it.

  Ridiculous, right?

  Shaking the thoughts away, I concentrate on the tattoo. After finishing, I place a bandage and plastic over it. “You know what to do by now.” This is her thirteenth time here. She should have the spiel memorized by now.

  She rolls to her back and runs her fingers over the edge of the tape covering her hip. Her legs spread slightly. My eyes flick up to her face. She bites her bottom lip, eyelids heavy with desire.

  Deliberate attention.

  “I’ve been thinking maybe I should go to another shop. That way I wouldn’t be your client anymore. Maybe then I’ll get my night,” she purrs.

  I hold her gaze. “It’ll still be the same.”

  She drags her hand down between her breasts, over her flat stomach, and cups her pussy. “I’ve been chasing you for so long, Ash. Break your rule for one night. That’s all I’m asking for. You never know. It may be the best damn night you’ve ever had.” Her fingers circle her clit over the fabric.

  It would be so easy to fuck my frustrations out on her. Fuck her mouth. Her pussy. Hear my name screamed over and over.

  Before I can talk myself into it, I grab her black leggings and toss them at her. “Get dressed, Misty.”

  “Why don’t you screw anyone you tat?” she huffs, stepping into her pants. “You could have a different girl every night of the week. A revolving roster of great sex nightly.”

  Says a lot about her. She’s willing to be a Tuesday fling.

  She reaches out and puts a hand on my bicep, squeezing. “Or you could find that one good pussy you can’t deny. You could be passing up on the best opportunities over stupid rules.”

  “It gets messy,” I take a step back.

  Women proposition me a lot. They want attention with no strings attached. And although that sounds tempting as hell, I put my rule in place for a reason. I casually dated a woman I worked with once. She was beautiful and fun, and we had a lot in common. I was upfront and told her I couldn’t do anything serious. I wasn’t interested in that. I thought we were on the same page, but she had other ideas. After two weeks, I started noticing a change. After four weeks, she turned into a crazy-ass clinger. She showed up to my place unannounced, made herself at home, and expected me to be all the things a real boyfriend would be. I called it all off and had nowhere to escape her spite and vindictiveness. I had no other choice but to quit my job.

  Misty’s tongue peeks out and sweeps across her lips, clearing the step I put between us. She runs her hand across my chest and down to my stomach, stopping just above my waistband. “I bet it does. Let me blow you and your mind for a night.”

  Although, my dick twitches, it won’t happen. I remove her hand from me and shake my head.

  She huffs. “I’ll try again at the next appointment.”

  Per-fucking-sistent.

  “My answer will remain the same.”

  Her brown eyes flicker with desire. “I’m confident I’ll wear you down, Ash. Think of all the fun we could have. Me fingering myself while you work on the inside of my thigh. Sucking your hard cock,” she stresses the K, “while you tat something on the small of my ass. And that’s just work play. We could have an amazing time in the bedroom too. Anything you desire… Any fun you want… Rules are meant to be broken.”

  Shit. It’s hot in here. She’s brought her A-game in dirty talk today and it’s making me contemplate her suggestions. Reaching behind me, I twist the knob and open the door, causing the sexual tension to evaporate.

  The disbelief in her eyes causes me to chuckle. “My answer is the same.”

  Her gaze drops to my semi-hard dick and a smile spreads over her lips. “For now.” She sashays out the door and toward the front to pay.

  The moment the bell above the door chimes to announce she’s left, I exhale a breath. My shoulders sink with relief and I sag against the wall.

  “She must’ve laid it on you thick today,” Fay, the part time piercer and my friend, titters as she quirks a brow. “Did you show her the magical penis?” Her moss-colored eyes sink to my dick before flicking back up.

  “No.” I shake my head. “And why the hell are you looking at my dick?”

  A wispy laugh escapes her. She flips her bright red hair off her shoulders. “You got time to add a small tattoo?” She pulls down her low-cut top and points between her breasts. “There’s a blank spot. I noticed it the other day in the shower. I don’t want anything major. Maybe some lace with a jewelry drop. I’m not too picky.”

  “Yeah. Sure. Let me clean up and then I’ll be ready,” I say.

  My phone is sitting on my desk with a flashing light indicating a notification.

  Lucia: Fireside until 8.

  Lucia: I promise it’ll be worth it.

  It’s almost seven now and it takes twenty minutes to get there.

  Am I really contemplating showing up and putting my ass in the line of fire again? Kenlyn’s body language may say one thing, but her mouth says the complete opposite.

  “Ut oh. I know that look.” Fay plops her ass into my chair. “What decisions do you have to make?”

  Before you assume I’ve slept with her, think again. Fay’s like a sister to me. A wildly annoying and bratty sister who means the world to me. Plus, she and Luna have been together for nine years. Even if a dick promised a million-dollar ride, I’m positive Fay wouldn’t jump on.

  “A girl?” she asks when I don’t respond. “Tell me about her.”

  That’s another thing. Fay can read me. No use lying to her.

  “She won’t give me a chance. Shuts me down every time there’s a sliver of attraction.”

  “You? Mr. Don’t have to work for pussy? Since when doesn’t a woman give you a chance? What’s her hang-up?”

  “Hell if I know. Seems like she has something against me though.”

  Fay’s eyes light up and she bounces in the seat. “You’re into this chick, though. But are you seriously into her or just a casual thing?”

 
That’s the million-dollar question. I know what I want—casual—but how I feel when I’m around her confounds me. I decide to play it safe. “I’m into her, yeah, but I have no clue what I want.”

  Like she knows something I don’t, she grins wide and toothy and it pushes her cheeks up. “What’s the decision you have to make now then?”

  “Show up unannounced or stay put. We exchanged some ugly words today. I’m not sure I want to see her or vice versa.”

  She pops to her feet. “Go. I can hold down the shop.”

  The decision has been made for me.

  I park my motorcycle a block away, still trying to process what the fuck I’m doing. During the ride here, I tried figuring it out, tried understanding why I can’t stay away from her and why I don’t want to. A niggling thought latched deep in the recesses of my mind scares the hell out of me. I want more than casual. I want more of the feelings she evokes in me.

  What the hell am I thinking? Lucia promised it’ll be worth my while to show. Now that I’m here with my eyes on her back, her long hair spilling down her shoulder blades, I’m left wondering if I’m losing my damn mind.

  They’re laughing at something when I reach the table and pull out the seat beside Kenlyn. She startles, jumping slightly with wide eyes.

  “Grabbing something to eat,” I explain before she asks. “Saw you two sitting here.”

  She looks to me incredulously with a crease appearing between her brows. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

  “Yep. Just finished up my last appointment for the night and took a break. I’m hungry.”

  “You just happened to come across town for something to eat…” Her words trail off. She crosses her arms and it pushes her tits up. “So what will you be ordering?” She bites the inside of her cheek.

  “Haven’t looked at the menu yet. What do you suggest?”

  The muscles in her jaw tense as she fights not to smile. “All of the burgers are good.”

  “Solves it.” I sit back in the metal chair. “I’ll get a burger then.”

  She puffs a giggle under her breath and shakes her head before looking to Lucia and having a silent conversation. Lucia tilts her head, purses her lips, and widens her eyes. I watch the interaction, lost at what only the two women can make sense of.

  Kenlyn looks down at her hands and begins to fidget with her fingernails. “I, uh. I think I owe you an apology. One I don’t feel like discussing here.” Her voice is low and she doesn’t make eye contact.

  My interest piques as does my smirk. “Dinner Wednesday?

  Normally I go into work after my One2One meet, but I’ve never been required. One night won’t hurt business.

  “Thought you only have Sunday and Monday’s off?”

  Always the skeptic. “I do, but I have nothing booked. I can work around that.”

  “Okay. Sure.”

  Something strange happens in my chest. “Great. I’ll call you.” I shove to my feet. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

  Her face scrunches. “You’re not going to get something to eat?”

  Reaching down, I steal a fry from her plate. “Just did.” I say around the food and wink. “Good seeing you, Lucia.” I tip my chin and stroll away with excitement in my veins and an ear-to-ear grin.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I’m going to murder you,” I tell Lucia as I thumb through the clothes in my closet.

  I’ve been at it for twenty minutes with no idea of what to wear. I’ve gone through the same things over and over.

  Lucia cracks up from where she’s perched on the side of my bed watching me. “I bet by the end of the night you’ll love me.” She twirls her hair around her finger and falls back to the bed. “He’s so hot, Lyn. Like hot-hot with an extra side of hot dayum.”

  Oh, how I know. “Why is it the bad boys are always the hottest?” I flick to the next hanger…again.

  Her sigh is all dreamy. “The ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude with their swagger. Holey jeans, sexy faces. It’s instant ovarian combustion.”

  I laugh under my breath. “The attitude scares me. I do give a fuck.”

  “You shouldn’t. Not all the time, at least. Have fun. Get laid. Simple.” She sits up and crosses her legs in front of her. “I know you don’t have sex before the hundredth date, but you should give it a try.”

  Shaking my head, I roll my eyes. She can do casual. She’s doing casual. I can’t. “I’m not out to have sex with him. I’m apologizing for being a bitch.”

  “Which could lead to mind-blowing makeup sex.”

  “No sex.” I reiterate with a huff.

  Like she’s privy to something I’m not, she bites her lip and lifts a shoulder. “Whatever you say.”

  I drop my head back and groan. “I have no clue what we’re doing and no idea what to wear.”

  “You make everything so hard with your overanalyzing bullshit.” She grabs my phone and seconds later her thumbs work. “I asked him what you should wear. Simple. As. That.”

  As she hands the phone to me, his reply comes.

  Ash: Sexy jeans. Past that, you decide.

  Me: What will we be doing?

  Ash: Eating. Talking. Having fun.

  Let’s try a different angle.

  Me: What will you be wearing?

  Ash: Sexy jeans and whatever I decide. ;)

  A laugh bubbles out of me.

  “That’s why I like him. Look at you. All smiles and glowing,” she sings, stepping into my closet. She lifts my black stilettos. “Whatever you decide, wear these with it.” Her hips sway with an extra umph like she solved world hunger as she exits my room, leaving me to figure out the rest.

  Great.

  Clothes are normally my jam. I always know what to wear, when to wear it, and how. But right now I’m so unsure that my anxiety is eating at me and killing the time I have left to get ready before he shows. Ash doesn’t seem the type to do uptight and formal, so I decide to go with my favorite skinny jeans, paired with a cute off the shoulder top with loose sleeves.

  Simple is my mantra for the night. For my hair and makeup, also.

  “Hello, sexy girl next door.” Lucia whistles, sweeping her gaze over me. “He’s definitely going to love that.”

  I look down, wiping my sweaty palms over my thighs. “You think so?”

  Why am I so nervous? It’s a date, an apology date at that. But why does it feel like so much more? There’s a chemistry between us. There’s no denying that. The way just thinking about him makes me feel is dangerous.

  There’s a knock on the door and I startle. “Crap,” I hiss under my breath, ducking like he can see through our door. “Is it too late to change my mind?”

  Inhale through my nose. Exhale out my mouth. Shoulders pulled back. I can do this. Nerves be damned.

  But when I open the door, I’m completely unprepared for the sight. My mouth dries up. Air pushes out of my lungs. Heat licks its way through my body limb for limb and settles low in my stomach.

  He’s drool-worthy. Dark-washed jeans with no holes. Dark blue button-down and a leather jacket—a fricking leather jacket! Hair styled up in a sexy messy way.

  His lips curl in a devious grin as his icy blue eyes crawl over me. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” The word rips from me on a breathy exhale.

  “You ready?” How does he sound so calm?

  “Yeah. Um, let me get my purse.” My words jumble out and make me sound like a bumbling idiot.

  He cocks a brow, but before he can call me out on my blunder, my purse pops out from behind the door where Lucia hides.

  Fanning herself, she mouths, “Holy shit.”

  Tell me about it.

  “Ready.” I nod and step out into the hallway, shutting the door behind me.

  He shoves his hands into his jacket pockets and falls into step beside me. “You look gorgeous.” He reaches out and pushes the button to call for the elevator.

  “Thanks. You clean up pretty well yourself.” God. I
’m an idiot.

  When the elevator doors close, I’m trapped with a sexy-smelling, confident hottie whose stare I’m unable to meet. I look everywhere but at him. The lighting of buttons. The floor. The tips of my shoes. The black scuff mark in the corner to my left. Anywhere but at him. I left my confidence lying on the floor of my closet apparently.

  Outside of the building he heads to a motorcycle, grabbing a helmet. It’s jet black with red accents. It’s slick. It’s badass. And no damn way I’m getting on that thing with him.

  “No way. I’m not riding on that.”

  The amusement in his eyes tells me a different story. “It’s our chariot for the night.”

  “You brought a motorcycle for our date? What were you thinking?”

  His chuckle is deep and sexy but does nothing to calm me. “You’ve never ridden?”

  That obvious?

  “No. Unless you count a scooter.”

  “Like a Vespa?”

  I snap my fingers and end in a point to him. “Exactly like a Vespa and nothing like this.”

  The way he bites his lip is so hot. “It’s just like that but sexier.” I’m frozen stiff as he puts the helmet over my head and buckles it. “I’ve been riding for years. Trust me.”

  Try telling that to my brain. “If I die, I’ll haunt the shit out of you.”

  He hops on and with shaky legs, I climb onto the back. He reaches behind him, grabs my hands, and pulls them around his waist, pressing them onto his stomach. Oh, God. Taut and impressive, I can feel the ridges and valleys under my palms. The heat of his body is pressed against the front of mine, my legs wrapped tightly against his.

  “Hold on to me,” he instructs.

  He could drive us straight to hell and I wouldn’t let go.

  The rumble is instant the second he cranks it. Deafening. Thunderous. Guttural. It vibrates everything, from the bottoms of my feet to the top of my head, and all in between. I’m going to be mortified if I have an orgasm on his back.