Tattoo Lust: A Tattoo Romance Collection

by Skyla Madi

“What?”

  “Huh?” She shook her head and looked away. Her whole body heated. But this wasn’t why she had come over. She wanted him, yes, but she also wanted to apologize and talk things out.

  “It’s just the expression on your face. And your mouth is open.”

  Is it?

  She clamped her jaws tight. “I’m sorry. I…”

  He slashed his hand in front of his chest. “You don’t have to apologize. I was wrong. I should have told you what was going on.”

  “I didn’t tell you about my—”

  “I don’t care who your father is and—shit.” Mikey rubbed his face with his hands.

  “What’s wrong?” She went to him except stood an arm’s length away.

  “I’m so tired, Grace. Can we talk about this later?”

  “Can I?” She reached for him with hesitant arms. He pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head. Tears pooled in her eyes. His fingers stroked her hair.

  “Stay with me,” he whispered. “I need be inside you tonight.”

  And I want you inside me.

  “Okay.”

  He grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled the tank top off. She moaned as his lips pressed against hers.

  “Hmm, no bra. I like this. What else aren’t you wearing?”

  She shimmied out of her pink and gray plaid Bermuda shorts and kicked off her slip-on wedges.

  “Take your panties off,” he said as he kissed her neck. His hands cupped her breasts. A thumb brushed over her nipple.

  Oh God.

  A surge of heat flooded her. She loved foreplay but right now that wasn’t what she wanted. She hooked a finger around the thin lacy top band of her thong. “You want this?” she teased.

  His pupils flared. A guttural groan left his mouth.

  “Well come and get it.” She crooked a finger, urging him to join her on the bed. She slinked up toward the pillows. He caught one of her ankles and gently eased her back down to the edge where she positioned herself on all fours.

  Mikey yanked her G-string down her thighs. Grace helped him when he reached her knees. The ceiling fan made the air feel cool now that she was fully bared to him. His belt clanked and the sound of his pants being dropped thrilled her.

  “Is this how you want it?” Mikey’s voice was low and deep.

  “Uh huh…please,” she breathed.

  He ran a hand down her spine, fingered her opening. “Oh, baby, you’re so wet for me.”

  She moaned when he slipped two fingers into her. He worked her until she begged for his cock. “Please. Come inside me.”

  “Don’t worry, I will.” He gripped her hips. Grace parted her knees a little more and settled into the mattress.

  Mikey pushed past her delicate softness. An involuntary squeak of pleasure escaped her. She hoped he understood her needs; she didn’t want leisurely and easy where the waves of ecstasy gradually built. Nope. She wanted pulse pounding, devastating sex, just short of an adult film.

  He eased his hips backward until he was almost out. This he did four agonizingly slow times. She panted and began to sweat as panic set in. Her inner walls clamped around his shaft when he stilled.

  “Oh,” he groaned. He leaned forward and fondled her beasts. His hands slid along her underside and found her hips again. Mikey pulled his hips back then thrust into her. She pitched forward but his hold on her hips kept her from falling onto her stomach. He drove into her, again and again.

  “Oh, yes…yes.” Blood thundered past her ears. Her spirit soared as rapture overtook over her. More pounding. More thrusting. More everything. Their breaths sawed in and out. Her body became liquid and her elbows collapsed. She turned her head to the side. Despite the new accidental position, bursts of pleasure struck hard and fast. She couldn’t breathe, but she could do that later.

  “Oh, oh, oh…G-Grace, I can’t stop. I’m…oh fuck, yes.” Mikey’s body shuddered. His sex kicked inside her silky channel. When he finished, he patted her bottom before pulling out and lying next to her.

  Grace settled into a more comfortable position. “Mmmm…thank you,” she smiled with her eyes closed.

  Mikey labored to breathe. A sheen of sweat glistened on his skin. Grace traced a finger around the outside of his raven tattoo. “Will you be getting any more?”

  “Tattoos?” He turned on his side and rubbed her back. “I’m a tattoo artist; what do you think?”

  “Well, you really don’t have that many. I was curious, if you’re planning on covering your entire body.”

  “Actually, I’m working on a design now, but I’m not sure when I’ll have the time to get the work done. But to answer your question, no, I’m not going to have my entire body inked.”

  Grace rested on her elbows. The sheet rasped against her nipples. Mikey eyed her tight breasts. “Roll over. I want those in my mouth.”

  Without hesitation, she complied and put her hands over her head, free as the phoenix on his back. She felt safe with him and wanted him to know.

  He suckled her, flicked his tongue over her nipples. She rocked her hips in pleasure. “Mmmm.”

  Mikey lifted his head and revealed half-mast eyes and puffy lips. “Still so horny…and wet.” His hand cupped her sex and he pushed his middle finger inside.

  Her back arched; he’d found her G-spot. “Oh, God.”

  He smiled at her. “You like that?”

  “I’m a sex goddess, what do you think?”

  His laughter cut through the room. “Yes. You are.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  Grace

  Grace tiptoed past Brayden’s room.

  Creak.

  She winced. The floor insisted on making noise. She continued on toward the living room.

  “Good morning, Grace.”

  The blood drained out of her head.

  Crap.

  She turned to find Brayden standing in the middle of hallway outside his room. He was wide awake and already dressed in jeans and a TMNT t-shirt. She tied to think of a viable excuse for being in the house so early on a Saturday morning. Although, she wasn’t sure why it mattered. She’d already spent many nights sleeping over, or maybe it was she knew the kid missed nothing and she was embarrassed for doing his father.

  “I, uh…just came over.”

  “Okay. Then why are you wearing the same thing as yesterday?”

  “Uhhh…uh…I, um…”

  Brayden laughed. “It’s okay. It’s cool,” he said and went into the living room.

  Grace stood there for a minute. When the TV came on she ran to Mikey’s room, flung the door open, went inside, and shut the door. She slid down the wooden panel and landed on her butt.

  “Is everything all—what are you doing?” Mikey asked as he came out of the bathroom with a toothbrush in his hand.

  “I ran into your son in the hallway.”

  “So? It’s not like he doesn’t know you’ve slept over before.” He helped her off the floor.

  “Well, I—never mind.”

  Mikey finished getting dressed. Grace stayed in the room with him because Brayden was lurking in the living room. She wasn’t afraid of him; she just didn’t have a lot of experience with ten-year-olds. What would they talk about, really? And she’d had sex with his dad earlier.

  Brayden opened the door without knocking. Now she remembered why Mikey always locked the door. The kid was used to coming into his father’s room whenever he felt like it.

  “What’s up, kid?” Mikey pulled on a pair of socks.

  Brayden walked toward the bathroom. “I’m hungry. Can we go to Eggtastic Omelets for breakfast?” He closed the bathroom door.

  “Isn’t there something here to eat?” Mikey called through the door to the bathroom.

  “Have you seen the fridge lately?” The kid’s words were slightly muffled behind the door.

  Grace heard what sounded like water being poured in the toilet until she realized he was peeing. Mikey rolled his eyes and mouthed, breakfast? The toilet flushed
. After Brayden washed his hands he came out.

  “You’re coming with us, right, Grace?”

  “Sure.”

  She noticed the time when they got in the car, 7:16 AM. On most mornings she wouldn’t be out of bed until 8:00. She yawned.

  Grace hadn’t been hungry on the way to the restaurant but her stomach growled while she read the menu. She looked over the top of the laminated folder with pictures of food that looked more appetizing than it was in reality. “What are you going to have?” She addressed the question to Brayden, curious about what he liked.

  “What’s the way I like my eggs?” he asked his dad.

  “Over medium.”

  “Over medium with hash browns and bacon. And rye toast,” Brayden said.

  Grace spotted something she couldn’t resist on the menu. “Sounds good but I think…I’ll have…a Belgian waffle.”

  During breakfast they discussed the finer points of waffles versus pancakes, an argument Brayden won. Grace told him she would make pancakes for him sometime, her mother’s recipe.

  Brayden used his toast to make an egg sandwich. He took a bite and the yolk squeezed out onto the plate. Grace mopped up the last bit of her syrup with a forkful of waffle and Mikey wiped his mouth on his napkin. He leaned back in the booth and put his arm around her.

  “Do you love each other?” Brayden asked.

  Grace coughed with her mouth full of orange juice and spat it back into the glass.

  “Bray?” His father narrowed his eyes on his son and shook his head.

  “Well?”

  “We like each other,” Mikey answered and rubbed Grace’s back as she continued to cough.

  Brayden put down his fork. “Wow, Dad, what a great influence on an impressionable young mind. She sleeps over and you don’t even know if you love her.”

  Grace thought Brayden was joking until he started asking the hard questions.

  “What are your intentions?” Brayden asked.

  Mikey sighed. “Bray, this really isn’t any of your business.”

  Grace patted his hand. “It’s okay. We’re going to keep dating and see where this goes.”

  “Uh huh,” Brayden said and glanced across the table. “Well, I think you love her.”

  It was Mikey’s turn to cough. “What?”

  “It’s kind of obvious. You almost fell off the wagon. Not that it’s her fault…”

  Grace looked at Mikey.

  “I’m fine, moment of weakness,” Mikey told her.

  Brayden continued, “And Grace, you came back, so there it is.”

  “O-kay.” Mikey turned crimson.

  “Um, I…” Grace wanted to dive under the table.

  Brayden rolled his eyes. “Adults. Sheesh.”

  “This from a kid who still asks me to tie his shoes,” Mikey grumbled.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  Harry

  Harry’s phone vibrated right off the night stand next to his bed. He couldn’t get a decent night’s sleep. Ever. The last two weeks had settled down nicely, except for being unable to discover the true identity of Cody Pollard. Bastard ghosted right after Cynthia’s murder. The hairs they found on the poncho he’d left behind at the crime scene turned up nothing in CODEIS. However, at least if he killed again and was apprehended they could pin Cynthia Hardin’s murder on him. Of course, that sucked for his next victim.

  Grace still wasn’t talking to him. And like a jackass he’d avoided Natalie since the night she’d made spaghetti dinner for him and Cedric. He hadn’t been rude to her face, although did that really matter? Although coward wasn’t a word he liked to call himself, the label fit.

  Harry glanced at the display on his cell’s screen. UNKNOWN.

  Great.

  This time of night, the chance the call was a telemarketer was low.

  He answered the call. “Whoever this is better have a damn good reason for calling so late.”

  “Detective…tsk, tsk, tsk…”

  “Who is this?”

  “So you still haven’t figured out who I am.” Not a question but a statement. “Thought you’d be cleverer than that.”

  “Cody Pollard.”

  There was a pregnant pause.

  “Why don’t you quit playing games and tell me who you really are?” Harry asked.

  “Hmmm, think not. I have a problem…”

  “Enlighten me,” Harry said, wanting to learn more. “Please.”

  “See, I have this dilemma. On one hand I’m tired of Mr. Hardin. I’ve grown exhausted from killing everyone he loves.”

  “Got news for you, the women you killed, he didn’t love.” Cody remained silent. “The way I see it,” Harry continued, “you did the guy a favor.”

  And even left evidence to prove Mikey’s innocence.

  “You would see it that way, Detective.”

  “Is there a reason you called?”

  “Of course, Detective.”

  Harry cringed, never in his life had he despised being called that. “Yeah, what’s that?”

  “Your daughter is very beautiful. A little skinny for my taste, but Mikey loves her. I see the way he looks at her.”

  Harry’s heart rate spun out of control. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the phone. His whole body tensed. “My daughter’s not your concern.”

  “Oh, but she is. She insisted upon it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Click.

  “Goddammit!”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  Grace

  Grace checked to make sure all the doors were locked in Mikey’s place. She paced the all too quiet house, nervousness addling her brain. Brayden had been a perfect gentleman, eaten all his dinner she’d cooked and put on his plate. He even showered and got ready for bed without any fuss. Of course, she had nothing to compare his behavior to, but he told her when he was supposed to go to sleep. He even took himself to his room at 9:30.

  Mikey said he’d be home after finishing his last client. However, the appointment hadn’t officially started until 8:30. Who worked this late on a Saturday night? She laughed at herself. Who the hell was she kidding? If she and Mikey hadn’t rekindled things, she’d still be at the office.

  During one of her rounds through the kitchen she checked the clock on the stove and it was now 11:03 PM. The dishes were all washed and put away, the counters wiped down. The house felt empty. Too empty. She crept down the hall to check on Brayden. He was breathing evenly. Nothing wrong in the bedroom.

  A breeze wafted over from by the window. The curtain billowed and then got sucked back into the screen. Who left the window open when a lunatic was still running around? She shuddered and went to shut the damn thing. The frame banged against the sill.

  Shit.

  She looked over at Brayden. He rolled over.

  “Grace, is that you?”

  “Yes, sorry, Bray, your window was open. I think it might rain.”

  “Uh huh…” He pulled the covers over most of his head.

  Grace waited, making sure he was asleep before tiptoeing out of the room. The floor in the hallway creaked with each step. Thunder rumbled outside. She stopped and counted. 1…2…3…4…lightning cracked. She ran to the living room and dove under the blanket.

  BOOM!

  The house shook.

  Yes, she was a grown-ass woman huddled under a blankie. Meanwhile, a ten-year-old slept in his room all by himself.

  Good grief, Grace, man up.

  The interior of the house lit up like daylight had suddenly come.

  CRASH!

  BOOM!

  Crackle, crackle.

  The power went out; a transformer had blown. Grace yelped and jerked the afghan up to her neck.

  The continued lightning allowed her to navigate to the kitchen without incident. She opened the pantry and retrieved the flashlight stuck to the inside of the door. The heavy duty Coleman required a six-volt battery. She clicked the ‘on’ button. Fortunately, she discovered the flashlig
ht during her cooking extravaganza. Okay, so she made chocolate chip pancakes for dinner. It was still cooking.

  Back on the couch, she settled beneath the blanket again. She grabbed her phone to once again check the time and the ringtone startled her. The phone flipped into the air. She grappled clumsily until the cell landed in her lap. The screen read, “Daddy Dearest.”

  She put the phone up to her ear.

  “Grace, where are you?”

  She sighed heavily. “None of your busin—”

  “Grace, enough! Where are you?”

  She gasped and gripped the phone tightly. “What’s wrong? I’m at Mikey’s.”

  “What are you doing—never mind, is he there with you?”

  “No, he’s at work. Why?”

  “You’re alone! You need to leave now.”

  “I can’t, Brayden’s here. I’m watching him.”

  “Well take him with you!”

  “Dad, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

  BOOM!

  She screamed.

  “Grace! Grace!”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m here. The storm—”

  “I’m coming over.”

  Her father’s breaths grew shallower and heavier as he no doubt ran to his car. Grace flew off the couch and hurried down the hall to Brayden’s room. He looked too still, she couldn’t see him breathing. The phone slipped off her ear. She nudged his shoulder; he didn’t stir.

  “Brayden!”

  “Grace? Grace!” her father shouted.

  Brayden sat up. “Wha…what?”

  Grace breathed a sigh. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “What’s going on?” her father asked tensely.

  She pressed the phone back to her ear. “I’m here, I’m here. Brayden scared me, that’s all.”

  Grace could hear traffic noise and the sound of windshield wipers.

  “I’m coming, Grace.”

  She white-knuckled the phone. “Dad, tell me what’s going on.”

  “I want to make sure you’re safe.”

  “Bullshit. What it is?”

  “Cody called and—”

  “What, you think—”

  “He threatened you. It’s more than likely he knows where you are.”