by Jess Bryant
From the looks on both of his brother’s faces, he knew that they felt the same way. They weren’t the most conventional family. Not by a longshot. But no matter what people said about them, one thing had always been true. Bomars protected each other and Skylar, she was one of them now.
“Hey.”
“Hmm?” He glanced down when she nuzzled his chest.
His cousins were still talking. Names were being thrown around now and he suspected that they would find their rat sooner rather than later. Lincoln would see to it, just like he would see to it that they were all safe. He wasn’t a bad guy, not really, but he would do whatever he had to in order to protect the family.
“I know you’re worried about keeping me safe, but who’s going to keep you safe?”
Colt grinned, “You are, of course. You promised.”
Skylar lit up and he cupped her cheeks lovingly. God she was beautiful and she was all his. She loved him and he loved her so damn much it scared him. He wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to that tight feeling in his chest when he looked at her but he doubted it. He’d been living with it for months, ignoring it for years, but now she was his and he didn’t have to keep it trapped inside of him anymore.
“I love you.” He whispered softly, just for her to hear as he brushed his mouth over hers.
“I love you too.” She caught his wrists, holding him close when he would have pulled back, “We’re going to beat this, ya know?”
“I know.”
“Lincoln’s going to find out who is after you guys and we’re going to be free of all this drama once and for all. I promise we will.”
He tipped his forehead down against hers and smiled, “I know.”
“And we’re going to build a life together. You and me. Jemma and Cash. All of us.”
“Don’t forget about Remy.”
“I haven’t.” She glanced over at where his brother was arguing something with Lincoln, complete with hand gestures, “I like him.”
“I’m glad.”
“He’s a good guy.”
“He’s trying to be.” He nodded his agreement.
Skylar bit her lip, “You think we can get him out too?”
Colt chuckled because he’d had a feeling this was coming. She just couldn’t help herself. As much as he needed to protect the people he loved, Skylar needed to save people just as much. If she saw someone in need, she had to help. She’d befriended him when he needed a friend, loved him when he needed it most and now she’d set her sights on his brother.
“Angel, I don’t doubt you can do anything you set your mind to.”
“Mmm, good answer.” She tip-toed up and brushed her lips over his again.
When she dropped back to her heels he sighed, “I want to take you home and not talk about my brothers or my cousins or even think about this traitor bullshit for a little while. I just want us to be together and be happy.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” She grinned, “Let’s get out of here.”
He started to tell her that they couldn’t. He needed to stay. They needed him here. He was a part of this. This was where he belonged. But the truth was, he didn’t, not anymore.
They didn’t need him. There were plenty of them that could handle whatever plan they concocted to flush out the rat. This wasn’t where he belonged, not anymore, because his angel had saved him. She’d lifted him up out of the shadows. Now he had a chance to live with her, in the light, and he didn’t intend to waste that opportunity.
“We’re heading out. You can fill us in later.” He called out as he scooped Skylar up into his arms.
“Colt!” She squealed as he tossed her over his shoulder and turned for the door.
“Much later.” Lincoln chuckled behind him.
“Much, much later.” She giggled and waved.
Cash grumbled, “Guess I’m riding back with Remy.”
“Guess so.” His older brother chuckled. “Go easy on him, Sky. He’s still banged up.”
“Not a chance.” He growled once they were clear of the barn and out in the bright sunshine of the late afternoon, summer day. “I don’t want easy. I just want you.”
“You’ve got me.” Skylar grinned, “Now what are you going to do with me?”
“I’m gonna love you just like you deserve.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Colt?” Skylar pushed open the door of Fine Lines.
The new door, she smiled as she stepped inside the shop and looked around. The boys had worked fast to get it back up running for Colt in a matter of weeks. They’d also worked hard and the proof was in every detail. From the shining glass doors that matched the old ones perfectly to the brand new check-in counter that Bentley had built with his own hands, the shop looked even better than it had before the attack. It gleamed. They’d done a grand re-opening over the weekend and it had gone off without a hitch.
Despite their uncomfortable and frustrating meeting with Lincoln and the other boys, things had been quiet the past couple of weeks. She’d gotten, not necessarily accustomed to having one of the guys always hanging around the salon, but familiar with the routine of it. She’d spent time with everyone from Cash and Remy to Lincoln himself, though Bentley was usually the Bomar assigned to keep an eye on her and they’d found an easy friendship. She liked to ask when Ford would be assigned to her detail just to irritate Colt but the truth was, she hoped they were nearing the point the guys would stop the overprotective crap and they could all move on with their lives.
There had been no more attacks. No more threats. If there was news on whoever Lincoln thought was his rat, they hadn’t told her about it. Life was good and she prayed every day that it stayed that way.
“Colt?” She called again as the door swung shut behind her, “Remy said you needed me?”
“Back here.” His voice pitched loud for her to hear, “Lock the door, would ya?”
She raised an eyebrow at the odd request but did as he asked. She had no idea what her boyfriend was up to. Remy had strolled into the salon, grin firmly on his face when he told her that Colt needed her next door and then told Bentley his services wouldn’t be needed the rest of the night and to get lost. She’d just finished up her last client of the day so she’d grabbed her things, asked Rachel to close up, and high-tailed it next door to see what Colt wanted.
Another thing that had happened in the past couple of weeks, she’d stopped freaking out about leaving Remy alone with Rachel. The girl had a crush and it was kind of cute. She’d warned Remy that if he hurt her friend he’d have to answer to her but he’d only shaken his head and said the last thing he wanted was to hurt the girl.
That had helped to put her worries at ease but so had their interactions the past few weeks. He was kind to her, gentle with her and he went out of his way to make her smile. Whatever Rachel was feeling it was clearly reciprocated and that had put Skylar’s worries at ease.
Remy was a good guy. All previous evidence to the contrary, he’d gone above and beyond to help his brothers. He’d been there for them and intended to stick around for the long haul from the looks of it. He might be rough around the edges, but he was a Bomar so that came with the territory.
If Rachel wanted to be his friend, what could Skylar possibly say to the girl? She’d befriended her own Bomar boy knowing full well that it would come with a truckload of headaches and heartache. And if Rachel wanted more than that with the eldest of the bunch, who was she to warn her off? It might be a longshot but she and Jemma had both gotten their Bomar boy and their happily ever after so why couldn’t Rachel? The girl deserved it after the hell her family put her through.
All thoughts of Remy and Rachel dissipated when Skylar rounded the corner of the curtain and got a good look at her boyfriend. Her boyfriend! Ah, that felt so good, so right, when the man was the gorgeous Bomar boy that had stolen her heart.
Colt was sitting on his stool, his tray of inks and tools right next to him. He was dressed in his usual outf
it of worn-in blue jeans and simple black t-shirt. His hair was spiked in a dozen different directions, proof he’d been running his hands through it, but he grinned when he saw her. Those dimples flashed and her heart stuttered in her chest just as it always did when he looked at her like that.
Happy Colt was truly a sight to behold. She was still getting used to seeing this particular side of him on the regular. She’d always wondered if his moodiness wasn’t a direct result of having to deal with his family when he didn’t want to but there was no question of that now. Free of Lincoln’s chains, he’d been more lighthearted and carefree than she’d ever seen him. He would never be considered easy-going probably. He was still overprotective and demanding but he smiled far more than he ever had before and she liked to think that was because of her.
“Hey baby.” She grinned back at him. “Whatcha doin?”
“Finishing what I started.” He motioned to the chair, “Hop up.”
“What?”
“We’re finishing that garter. Today. Now.” He shrugged when she only raised an eyebrow, “It’s been buggin’ me for weeks that it’s not finished, that I couldn’t finish it for you. It’s not perfect yet and it shouldn’t be on your body if it isn’t perfect.”
“That’s sweet.” She smiled as she eased into the room.
That was so Colt and so sweet, she had no words. He only wanted perfection for her. She leaned down and brushed her lips over his. She wasn’t surprised in the least when he took control and kissed her back just the way he liked, hard and dirty. Tongues and teeth and she moved closer, trying to straddle his waist but he grabbed her hips and held her in place when he groaned and pulled away.
“I’m glad you think so.” Colt swiped his thumb over her bottom lip, “Now get your sexy little ass in my chair.”
She laughed at the order, “I can’t. In case you haven’t noticed, I wore jeans to work today.”
“Take them off.” She raised an eyebrow at that and Colt gave another of those lazy smiles, “Angel, you and I both know you’re gonna end up naked with my cock buried deep inside you before this is over. Might as well lose the pants now and let me get started.”
Skylar shivered at the image he painted. How many times had she dreamed of that when Colt was tattooing her in the past? His rough hands on her body, the flare of pain from the needle, and her mind wandering to what it would feel like if he moved those hands to her breasts, to what he would say and do if he slipped them beneath her panties and found her wet. She didn’t have to wonder if he wanted her the way she wanted him anymore and he was right, they were going to have sex in that chair if he tattooed her again. There was no other outcome.
The locked door suddenly made complete sense. No interruptions this time. No brothers walking in on them. Just the two of them, the way they’d both wanted for so long.
She popped the button on her jeans and Colt groaned. She hid a smirk as she unzipped them slowly and then wiggled her hips to work the skin tight material down her legs. Colt helped, holding her upright when she slipped out of her shoes and then stepped out of the jeans one leg at a time.
“Jesus.” He whispered when she stood in front of him again, “I’m never gonna last until we finish the tattoo. Get in the chair, Sky.”
She bit her lip and walked backwards, keeping her gaze on him as she hopped up into the chair. His eyes were on fire as they traced her body lovingly. Her skin had flushed just from the way he looked at her and she knew that this was nowhere near the first time he’d noticed. It was the first time he’d had every right to comment on it though and as he scooted his stool closer and ran a finger up her calf he groaned.
“Seeing you like this, all spread out and flushed pink… it drives me crazy.” He grabbed her knee and spread her legs, putting her on full display, “Your breathing speeds up before I ever even put the needle on your skin. Your eyes dilate and I can practically hear your heart racing. Did you know that?”
Skylar swallowed hard and shook her head. She couldn’t speak, because he was right. Her heart was racing and she could barely catch her breath. It wasn’t just the pain that turned her on. It was Colt.
“All this time.” He muttered more to himself than to her as he settled next to her hip and grabbed his pen, “All this time you were thinking about the dirty things I could do to you in this chair, weren’t you?”
She nodded and he groaned.
“I fuckin’ knew it. I knew it and I couldn’t do a goddamned thing about it.” He swiped the alcohol wipe over her thigh and then tossed it aside, “But now you’re mine and I’m gonna make all your dreams come true, angel.”
As soon as he put the needle to her skin, she whimpered and the bastard chuckled. It had always been a distinctive kind of torture when Colt put a tattoo on her body. Because he was right and it made her wet and achy and always left her wanting. But this? This was a whole new kind of hell because he teased her the entire time.
As the machine hummed and the needle punctured her skin over and over again, Colt talked to her. Crude, lewd and wildly suggestive comments about what he was going to do to her mostly. He told her about how hard she made him and about all the times he’d wanted to slip his hand under her clothes and find out if she was wet for him. And when he did just that, when he slid his free hand up between her legs and ran his finger down the seam of her body they both moaned.
“You’re soaked through.” He growled and his voice was gravel, “Such a naughty angel. You need it so bad.”
“Colt, please.” She whimpered, trying and failing not to shift her hips up for more of his touch.
“Uh uh. Not yet. We’re finishing this damn tattoo.”
Skylar bit her lip and nodded. She didn’t want to finish the tattoo. She wanted him touching her, inside her, now, right this second. She didn’t want him to finish the tattoo because she’d just have to come up with another one for him to put on her skin so they could do this all over again.
And again. And again. And again.
She held her breath as Colt went back to his work. Her head fell back against the chair and she bit her lips to keep from crying out. It felt so good and knowing that he was going to make love to her after only made it better. He kept one possessive hand on her mound, occasionally swiping his finger over her clit just enough to keep her right there on the edge. And he continued to talk to her, telling her how beautiful she was, how much he wanted her, how much he’d wanted this and for how long.
“You’ve gotta be still angel.”
“Can’t. I can’t.” She whimpered, only realizing that her hips were shifting again of their own accord when he moved his hand to her hip to hold her still. “Colt, please.”
“God, I love you.”
Warmth suffused her chest at how easily he said it now, “Love you too. I need you baby. Please.”
“You’ve got me.”
He swiped the alcohol wipe over her skin again and she barely felt it. She felt raw and overexposed. Every touch felt like a jolt of electricity until it had blended into one long, continuous ache that was pure bliss. And then Colt removed his hands and she shivered at the loss.
“Colt?”
“Look at it.” He ordered, his voice low and gruff, “I’m done. Look at it.”
Her entire body was languid and unresponsive. It took her a moment to collect herself enough to twist her leg around so that she could see his finished work. It was beautiful but she’d known that it would be. It was exactly what he’d drawn her. Lace and roses and chains, softness and strength, but when she pulled her legs further open and looked at the mark on the inside of her thigh where the two sides met, the part of the tattoo that had hurt the most because the skin there was so sensitive, she gasped.
“Oh my God…” Her heart tripped up and tears blurred her vision.
“Shit. You don’t like it.”
“No.” She grabbed Colt when he shifted uncomfortably and she thought he was going to pull away from her, “No, I don’t like it. I love it
. It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
And it was. Her vision cleared enough that she could see it again and she stared. He’d marked her skin for real this time. Permanently. Just like she’d told him she wanted him to. Because there, amid the lace garter that he’d designed, was his name.
His name, on her skin, branding her as his.
“Colt, it’s perfect.” She reached for him and drew him up until she could frame his hard face between her hands, “I love it and I love you.”
“You’re mine, Skylar. I love you and I’m never letting you go.”
She smiled softly, “I don’t want you to.”
He kissed her then and the kiss was as gentle and reverent as any kiss they’d ever shared. He showed her with his kiss the same thing he’d showed her time and again in the past weeks. He loved her more than he knew how to say maybe but he showed her with the way he touched her, treated her and looked at her. When he broke the sweet kiss she pouted and he smiled.
“I’ve got something else to show you.”
“Well, I was hoping so.” She wagged her eyebrows and purposefully stared at the bulge in his pants.
“Perv.” He chuckled as his hands went to the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head, “Not that. Well, not yet. Something else.”
At the sight of his broad, muscled chest she swooned a little. His entire body was made to be showed off. He would have looked right at home in one of those underwear ads in the glossy magazines. But it was the artwork that had always stolen her breath. The beautiful, slightly foreboding symbols that marked his skin, that he himself had put there, the ones that spoke of the dark, tumultuous soul beneath that beautiful exterior.
There were so many tattoos. So many dark lines and swirling words. There was the angel and devil depiction on his arm. The one she’d finally realized was his twisted version of them. On the other was a dark and ominous forest that rose up his forearm with stark black birds circling up his bicep as they flew away. And on his chest and abdomen, there were other smaller tattoos.
