Serious Ink

by Ranae Rose

  Everything inside her drew up again, shooting sharp little aftershocks of pleasure through her. God, he was hot. The time they’d spent apart had nearly killed her. The first time they’d slept together again after working things out, she’d fallen into his arms, practically crippled by desire.

  Things hadn’t changed much, especially not with him looking like that. Reaching for him, she worked his clothing all the way off of his body, touching and stroking every bit of skin she could reach until he leaned away from her to retrieve a condom from his jeans pocket.

  She took it from him and rolled it down over his hard cock. When it was on, she reached below, cradling his balls.

  He moaned, leaning forward and capturing her with a hand against the small of her back, finally unhooking her bra and hastily tossing it aside. When her breasts were bare, he lowered his face to one of them, capturing a nipple between his lips.

  The pull of his mouth against and around her aching flesh was exquisite. Her pussy became wet all over again as he sucked, tucking a hand between her legs and pushing a finger inside her, teasing.

  That reminded her how much more she wanted – how much more of him she wanted to feel inside her. Rolling his balls in her hand, she touched the smooth skin behind them, stroking.

  He raised his head, kissed her briefly but thoroughly on the mouth, and lowered her onto her back, settling between her thighs like he’d been made to fit there.

  Maybe he had. It certainly felt that way as he flexed his hips, pressing the head of his dick inside her, then more and more, until they were hip-to-hip and groin-to-groin, as tightly together as a lock and key. The pressure of his thickness against her inner walls was perfect – enough to make her ache, in a good way.

  And then she was losing her breath all over again as he rocked into her, stretching her already sensitive flesh with each stroke.

  Her entire body prickled with pleasure as he ran a hand through her hair, tangling his fingers in her locks as he bent his neck, pressing his mouth to hers. The kiss that followed was deep and long, but didn’t disrupt the rhythm he maintained below. And when that rhythm pushed her to the edge again, she slid her hands down his back, fingertips skating over his skin until they reached the muscular surface of his ass and she dug her nails in.

  Anchored to him that way, she could feel every subtlety in his movement, the tension in his muscles as he thrust. It doubled her pleasure as her climax swept and broke over her like a wave, washing coherent thought from her mind. In that moment, he was all that mattered.

  “Fuck,” he said when she breathed his name, more out of compulsion than any other reason. Still, the reaction was nice. His voice was low and a little rough, sweet scraping music to her ears. “Zoe…”

  She said his name again and he replied in kind, gathering her up in his arms, rocking harder into her.

  As he came, she held onto him, nails buried in the cleft between his ass cheeks and his thighs, pussy clenching tight around his cock. Each stroke was deliberate – deep. They were using a condom, as always, but knowing he was coming inside her was still sexy as hell – intimate in a way that took her breath away. Of course, that particular side-effect also could’ve had to do with the fact that he was hitting just the right spot inside her, reviving the fading pleasure of her recent orgasm.

  When he slowed and stilled, head bowed, his forehead almost touching hers, she sighed. Maybe it was time to talk about giving up condoms and switching to another method of protection. She liked the idea of sex being something they did with nothing between them, of feeling the hot rush of his come inside her. After all, they were serious.

  He brushed a kiss against her temple as he withdrew, muscles shifting beneath the black and grey ink that covered his torso, emphasizing the light and shadows that fell across his body.

  She rolled over and stretched, watching as he dressed quickly, pulling on his boxer briefs and hitching his jeans up around his hips.

  “My roommates aren’t due back that soon,” she said, missing the sight of his naked body already.

  “I’m not worried about them. If they’re really determined to come barging in here and see what we’ve been up to, so be it.” He glanced at the closed bedroom door, then tipped his head toward the bed, where she sat with her legs hanging over the side. “That was good, but I’m starving.”

  She smirked. “All that cooking, and you didn’t even sample the food?”

  “No. I was in a hurry to get over here. Wanted a taste of you more than I wanted a taste of my own crappy cooking.”

  “Your cooking’s not crappy.”

  “You only think that because you can’t eat gluten. You’ve been subjected to so many lame food options that your tastes have been altered and you think I’m some kind of chef.”

  She kicked his t-shirt as he reached for it, and it flew up, hitting him softly across the face. “That’s not true. My standards have only been lowered when it comes to a few things, like bread. For the most part, they’re pretty high.”

  “Now I know you’re delusional. You’re with me – remember?”

  He grinned, and she knew he was only teasing.

  “You could have any guy you want, and you choose someone with no cooking skills and a tailless cat named Schubert.”

  “You’re the only guy I want,” she said, rising and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Besides, Schubert is part of your charm. He’s how I knew I could trust you.”

  “Yeah,” he replied, touching the side of her head lightly. “Crazy. Definitely.”

  “I’d have to be, to date my boss.”

  “Well, I’m glad you are. I wouldn’t change anything.”

  “Neither would I.”

  EPILOGUE

  6 Months Later

  “You look so beautiful.” Noah’s eyes lit up as he let his gaze travel up and down Zoe’s body, leaving no doubt in her mind as to what he was thinking.

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” she said, indulging in a few blissful seconds of admiring the way his suit was cut to flatter every inch of his lean, sculpted body. “But this is just a bridesmaid’s dress. It’s supposed to look understated next to the bride’s.” Despite her dress’ simple style and modest cut, he was staring at her like she was floating around the room in the most exquisite gown ever created.

  “I like your dress better than the bride’s,” he stage-whispered. “It shows more leg.”

  She glanced around to make sure no one was looking, then play-hit him on the arm. “Shhh. Paul and Britney will be here any second. If Paul hears you talking to me like that, he’ll rescind your wedding invitation and try to turn the dance floor into a fighting ring.”

  Noah grinned. “I can take him.”

  Zoe arched a brow. “You wouldn’t raise a fist against Elite East’s welterweight champion, would you? I think that’d generate some bad PR for the company.”

  “I guess not, since it is his wedding day and all.”

  A soft cheer rose up from the small crowd inside the reception hall as Paul and Britney entered the room, Paul in his traditional black tux and Britney draped in a confection of white lace. Finally, they were husband and wife.

  Zoe turned in her seat, facing her father, who sat in a wheelchair beside the table. “What do you think, dad?” She grasped his hand. “This wedding has been a long time coming, huh?”

  Her father didn’t say anything, and although the two strokes he’d survived had affected his facial muscles, she detected the ghost of a smile. Speechless or not, he looked sharp in a tailored suit, and Zoe could sense his happiness.

  She smiled too, holding onto his hand as the newlyweds swept across the room and took their place at the center of the table. The wedding had been modest, and the reception was too: the only guests were close relatives and friends.

  It was the nicest wedding Zoe had ever been to, a meaningful ceremony pared down to what and who really mattered.

  The size of the wedding had been a matter of preference, but also
of necessity: Paul was intensely busy training for his next fight – an engagement he’d landed after becoming the Elite East welterweight champion. There just hadn’t been time for a huge, elaborate wedding, and he and Britney had been tired of waiting. He was no longer searching for a day job between fights – a fact that made Zoe’s heart feel light every time she thought about it.

  Of course, there was also the fact that a small wedding was an affordable wedding. Paul had used his winnings from the tournament to obliterate the family’s debt to Azalea Hall – a fact that felt more like a financial victory than a loss. Finally, the Ramsey family was back in the black, and things looked brighter than they had in a long time.

  “Dad,” Zoe said as a member of the catering staff lowered plates onto the table, “I chose the salmon for you. I hope you don’t mind – I thought it’d be what you’d want.”

  He looked down at his plate, then back up at Zoe. “It looks good. I’ll have to save room for cake.”

  Zoe grinned, squeezing her dad’s hand. “Definitely do that. I heard it’s chocolate.”

  Heat feathered through Zoe’s hair, warming her cheek as Noah leaned in. “I hope you know I’m prepared to heroically forego cake with you, as a testament to my love.”

  She met his eyes, barely suppressing a smirk. “You don’t have to – it’s a gluten-free wedding cake. I plan to have a slice. Heck, probably two.”

  His eyebrows crept high above his jade-green eyes. “Just remember that I was willing to make the sacrifice.”

  “My hero,” she teased, sinking her fork into her entrée.

  Noah nodded. “Anything for you.”

  “I hope you mean that, because I’m going to ask you to dance.”

  He leaned back in his chair, dropping his fork and donning a pained expression. “Anything but that.”

  “Come on. I know you can move – good footwork is the foundation of stand-up fighting, right?” At least, that was what Paul was always saying.

  “Yeah, but dancing with a beautiful woman isn’t exactly the same as trying to knock another man out cold.”

  “We have to dance. There aren’t that many guests here, and Paul and Britney will be counting on us to join them on the dance floor to help get things going.”

  After a few moments, he finally picked his fork back up. “Okay. But only because I figure we need the practice, since we’ll have to dance at our own wedding someday.”

  “Will we?” A spark of pleasure flared to life inside her, although this wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned marriage, or forever. Actually, he was pretty fond of doing exactly that.

  “Yeah. You didn’t think I had any intention of letting you get away, did you? ‘Cuz I don’t. Someday we’ll be the ones making other people feel pressured to dance awkwardly at our wedding.”

  “Some people like dancing. I happen to be one of them.”

  “Good. Like I said, our day is coming.” He leaned in, brushing his lips against hers in a kiss that was brief but full of promise. “Consider today a practice run.”

  Ink is forever. So is love.

  Thank you for reading Serious Ink.

  Stay up to date with the entire Inked in the Steel City Series by visiting the Inked in the Steel City page at ranaerose.com anytime.

  Previous titles in the series…

  Hot Ink (Inked in the Steel City, #1)

  Innocent Ink (Inked in the Steel City, #2)

  Dedicated Ink (Inked in the Steel City, #3)

  Abiding Ink (Inked in the Steel City, #4)

  (Click title to see in Kindle Store.)

  Book 6 coming soon!

  Read on for an excerpt from Ranae’s best-selling MMA romance Battered Not Broken.

  What did you think of Zoe & Noah’s story? Please consider sharing your thoughts via a review.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Ranae Rose is the best-selling author of more than twenty adult romances and counting. She calls the US East Coast home and resides there with her family, German Shepherd dogs and overflowing bookshelves. Writing and reading are lifelong passions that consume most of her time, and she’s always working on bringing her latest love story idea to life for readers.

  www.ranaerose.com

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  Read on for an excerpt from Battered Not Broken.

  Battered Not Broken

  A best-selling MMA romance by Ranae Rose.

  War and violent crime cut deep – can love for another person run deeper than the scars left behind?

  Ryan Moore forged his own path when he defied his wealthy family’s expectations by joining the United States Marine Corps as an enlisted man. After a period of service that’s cut short by an IED explosion, the lingering physical and mental effects of war result in an isolated struggle to exist in the civilian world. He throws himself into competitive MMA fighting – the one thing he’s still able to excel at, even if every match is a risk he can’t afford to take.

  His first encounter with amateur female fighter Ally Rivera ignites a spark of desire he hasn’t felt since before a bomb left its marks on his life and his body, but his flirtation with her turns out to be anything but harmless. She’s struggling to hold together a family ravaged by violence – a feat that isn’t easy when her father has been imprisoned, leaving her vulnerable to relatives who run a local gang. Can two unrelenting fighters overcome challenges they couldn’t defeat alone, or do the wounds of war and crime run too deep for even love to heal?

  Full-Length Novel

  Read on for an excerpt…

  BATTERED NOT BROKEN EXCERPT

  It was a smell that woke Ally up. One that made her mouth water. She swallowed a sudden flood of excess saliva as awareness set in.

  Her stomach was in knots before she even opened her eyes. When she did, she wasn’t surprised to see the interior of Ryan’s apartment. She was, however, already cursing herself inside her head. At some point, Ryan had risen without her noticing. The light filtering through the kitchen window made it obvious that she’d slept through the entire night on his couch.

  Her tiredness was instantly replaced by alarm as she rose from the cushions, ignoring the stiff and achy muscles in her back.

  “Morning,” Ryan called from the kitchen, where he’d stationed himself in front of the stove. He still wore his jeans from the night before, but he’d shed his jacket and the shirt he’d worn beneath it. The sight of his bare back greeted her, broad shoulders, tattoos and all.

  Still wearing everything from the night before, from her jacket to her shoes, she walked into the kitchen.

  “I didn’t want to wake you up,” he said, still facing the stove. “I tried to keep the noise down.”

  “It was the smell that woke me up,” she said, inhaling another lungful of bacon-scented air.

  He used a fork to flip a line of sizzling bacon strips. “How do you like your eggs?”

  “Sunny-side up,” she said, her gaze drifting to a cardboard carton of eggs that waited, open on the countertop beside the stove.

  Cautiously, she stepped to his left, craning her neck for a look at his face. “How’s your head?”

  He finished flipping the last piece of bacon and faced her. “Fine.”

  Whether or not he really felt fine after the previous night’s blow, the butterfly bandage had held up. The sight of it doing its job eased the knots in Ally’s stomach just a little. “Your migraine is gone?”

  “Yeah.” He turned on a second burner, where an empty frying pan waited. Before he cracked several eggs over its edge, he greased the inside with butter. “Sorry about last night. Guess I put you through hell.”

  “It’s all right.” If she’d been in hell, it was only because she’d been afraid for him, not to mention
agonizingly unsure of how to handle the situation.

  “It wasn’t how I envisioned our second date ending. If you’d told me yesterday that I’d be cooking breakfast for you in the morning, I would’ve assumed things had gone a lot better.”

  Something fluttered inside Ally’s chest as his words settled over her. Until then, she’d been so wrapped up in the lingering haze of the previous night’s ordeal that she hadn’t considered the very different set of circumstances that usually led to the kind of morning she’d woken up to. “I hope you don’t mind that I stayed. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “I’m sorry I ruined our date,” he said, turning away from the stove to face her fully. “But I’m not sorry you’re here.”

  She was struck silent for a moment as she took in the sight of his bare chest. Did he have any idea what it did to her? He probably thought that since she saw him that way at the gym all the time, it was no big deal. Standing that close to him in the privacy of his apartment, it certainly felt like a big deal. “Neither am I.”

  Seeing him fully coherent and apparently healthy again was unraveling the bonds of anxiety that had threatened to choke her the night before. If she’d gone home, she wouldn’t have been able to sleep. Fear for him and guilt over leaving would’ve kept her up all night. As it was, his improvement lifted her spirits, even if his eyes were red-rimmed. How long had he been up?