Faster (Stark Ink, #3)

by Dahlia West

  Sienna wrinkled her nose. “Who cares? It’s virgin. Like I’m going to be for the rest of my life.”

  “Whoa,” laughed Emilio, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You think we could come up with a hand signal so you could warn me before shit gets real? Real girly, I mean. Let’s dance,” he told Ava. “Seems safer.”

  She shook her head. “My feet are toast for a while.” She nodded at Sienna.

  Emilio took the hint and graciously turned to her. “What about you?” he asked her.

  She looked up from her cake, her mouth making a perfect O in surprise. “You want to dance with me?”

  He grinned. “I’m Latino. I dance with everybody.” Without waiting for a yes, he stood up, grabbed Sienna’s hand and tugged her to the dance floor.

  Ava sat back in her chair, nursing her complaining feet, and smiled at the two of them. Sienna seemed to be enjoying herself in spite of everything.

  A few feet away, Dalton and Zoey were cuddled up against each other, even though it wasn’t a slow song. He was talking in her ear and she occasionally sighed happily.

  Ava figured that was what love was, being able to be alone even in a room full of people.

  After the cake was gone and the gifts had been loaded into Adam’s car, the crowd gathered at the front of the church to harass the newlyweds as they emerged, married, to face the world together.

  Bird seed and good wishes were scattered to the wind.

  As the crowd parted, Ava realized the stone walkway led to the street—more specifically, to a huge black and chrome beast of a Harley, trimmed with white bows.

  She blinked at it.

  Calla actually halted to stare at it.

  Adam beamed at her and the rest of the crowd. When Ava caught sight of Shooter Sullivan standing across from her, she figured he must have sold the bike to her older brother on the sly.

  Calla’s free hand fluttered to her face. The other hand shook, scattering petals from her bouquet along the sidewalk. “Oh, my God!” she breathed.

  Adam was obviously pleased with himself. “We can drive it to the cabin,” he told her. “We’ll just dump half the crap you’ve already packed and rough it for a week.” He winked at her. “It’s not like you’re going to need all those clothes.”

  She closed her mouth and shook her head firmly. “I can’t. I can’t do it.”

  He smirked at her. “Baby, no one needs an emergency mani-pedi kit to go fishing and hiking. Your toes don’t need to be color coordinated with the scenery.”

  “No,” she snapped at him. “I mean, I’m not getting on the bike!”

  Adam frowned at her, then glanced at her outfit. Calla was wearing ankle-length pants, flat shoes, and a silk, sleeveless blouse. Not exactly Harley attire, but it was only two blocks to the house. Adam repeated the sentiment out loud to Calla.

  Calla again shook her head, though, and took a step back from the curb.

  “Unbelievable,” Adam cried, throwing up his hands. “I finally— finally— scrape together enough cash for another bike and my woman won’t get on it.”

  “I can’t,” Calla repeated, chewing her lower lip and glancing around nervously.

  “Babe, I’m not going to crash. I swear. It’s totally safe.” He held a hand out but Calla shook her head. Adam narrowed his eyes at her. “Babe,” he said a little more sharply, “you’re embarrassing me.”

  Calla’s chin jerked up. “Well... you’re embarrassing me!” she shot back.

  Adam gaped at her. “How?! How in the hell am I embarrassing you?”

  Calla slammed her bouquet into the chest of the person next to her. It turned out to be a stunned Sienna. She took a step forward, off the sidewalk, and onto the pavement. “We just got married!” she hissed. She was trying to be quiet, but she might have been too pissed off to actually accomplish it.

  “Yeah?” Adam said slowly, brow furrowing.

  “Like ten minutes ago!” she said, stomping her ballet-flat onto the asphalt.

  Adam snorted. “Baby, I’m aware that once you put a ring on it, women tend to go a little wonky. But... I think you may have skipped straight to certifiable. Aren’t we supposed to have a honeymoon before the whole thing goes pear-shaped?”

  She glared at him, eyes flashing.

  He frowned right back at her. “Get on the bike, baby. We can have angry sex about it later.”

  Calla flushed while the gathered crowd laughed.

  “Baby,” Adam repeated, “get on. I got a helmet for you and everything.”

  Calla’s shoulders slumped and she finally sighed. “I can’t, Adam. I’m pregnant.”

  Half the crowd whooped and hollered. Pop stepped forward and managed to sweep both Adam and Calla up in a bear hug. Tears glistened from the old man’s eyes as he held them tightly. Ava looked over to see Dalton shaking with laughter. “I’m guessing this didn’t happen in the coat room,” he mused. Zoey jabbed an elbow into his ribs. The large man winced.

  She dipped into her purse and grabbed her keys. “Take the Mercedes,” she announced, passing them to Calla.

  Calla snatched them up and made a beeline for Zoey’s car. Probably eager to be away from all the whispering. Adam jogged after her, apologizing profusely.

  Ava thought it would be an interesting honeymoon. But they weren’t leaving until Monday, so he had a few days to make it up to her. Ava wasn’t certain that even Adam had that much juice.

  With no one to lay claim to the beautiful, brand new American machine on display, Dalton sidled up to it and slid onto the seat. He patted the leather behind him. “Hop on, babe,” he encouraged Zoey. “Sienna and Ava can get DJ home.”

  Zoey frowned at him.

  For a second, Ava thought she had some exciting news as well, but she simply asked, “You sure you know how to drive it?”

  The stragglers laughed.

  Dalton’s eyes narrowed at his new wife. “That... is a spanking.”

  Someone gasped. Maybe it was Ava herself.

  Instead of being upset, though, Zoey squealed and lunged for the bike. She threw her leg over and slid on the helmet. “Call me if you need anything!” she shouted to Sienna and Ava.

  Sienna smiled and gave them a thumbs-up. Ava waved.

  As Dalton whisked her away, Emilio came up behind Ava, reached down and squeezed her ass cheek.

  She bit her lip to avoid squealing.

  “Might fit in with your family after all,” he whispered. He turned to Sienna and, louder, said, “Too bad you didn’t catch the bouquet.” He grinned at Sienna. “Marriage and a baby, huh? You move fast. Congrats.”

  Instead of laughing at the joke, Sienna scowled at him. “I’m taking him to my house,” she told Ava as she hefted the car seat in her arms. “We have ice cream.” She ignored Emilio totally, turned with DJ, and stomped to her car.

  Emilio frowned at Ava. “I was just teasing,” he told her. “I didn’t know she’d get so upset. What’s the problem, anyway?” he asked. “She’s young, she’s pretty. Where’s her date?”

  Ava scanned the area around them and spotted Jonah throwing his leg over his Harley. She lifted her chin at him. “There.”

  Emilio followed her gaze. They watched as he slid on a pair of Aviators and fired up his bike. Sienna rolled out of the lot first and Jonah slipped in right behind her. They broke away from each other, though, at the street, with Sienna turning right and Jonah heading left across town.

  “Awkward date,” Emilio noted.

  Ava nodded. “Yep. That’s about as much time as they’ve ever spent together, as far as I know.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you sure? Because at the bar that night, he was about to tear my head off, and maybe a few other parts, because he thought I was moving in on her. He beat a redneck senseless just for touching her.”

  Ava stared at him. She’d assumed Jonah’s violent tendencies had worked themselves out at this point. He hadn’t been in trouble in years. “Did he get hurt? Was he okay?”

 
Emilio pursed his lips. “He’s fine,” he replied, nodding at Jonah’s retreating form. “Obviously.”

  “Not him! The guy! Was the guy okay? Did... did he walk out of there okay?”

  He frowned at her. “I was mostly joking about your brother,” he said slowly. “He’s a big guy, and kind of... intimidating. I mean, to other people,” he corrected with a tiny smile. “So, he really is...?”

  “Yes,” Ava replied firmly. “He really, really is.”

  Emilio let out a low whistle as he watched Jonah turn at the stoplight and ride out of sight. “Well, I can’t say what’s going on between them. I don’t know. But that night, the message was more than clear. Your brother has staked a claim on that girl. He’s pissed in a circle so wide around her that only crackheads and dumbass rednecks would try to step over the line.”

  Ava gaped at him. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

  Emilio shook his head solemnly. “I’m fairly certain he was giving me the stink-eye when I was dancing with her earlier. He was watching me. And he wanted me to know he was watching.”

  Ava let out a long, slow breath. “Well... hol-y shit! I had no idea.”

  Emilio shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me. I’m not gonna disrespect you or him. As long as he’s not dangerous to her, it’s none of my business.”

  She shook her head. She was surprised at this revelation, to be sure, but as much as she didn’t know Jonah, she knew Jonah. “He doesn’t go near her,” she told Emilio. “They don’t even speak.”

  “Well, all right, then. He has self-control. Or a little bit, anyway. Might be that he uses up what he has to stay away from her, and everyone else should stay the fuck out of his way. Couldn’t say why that would be, though, if he cares that much about her.”

  Ava pressed her lips together and ground her heel into the sidewalk. “I know why that would be,” she said quietly. “But he won’t hurt Sienna. He’d never do that.”

  Emilio gave her long look and then nodded. “Okay. Like I said, not my business.”

  Her phone buzzed, startling her. Her fist tightened around it. She was so tired of this shit. She briefly considered throwing it against the nearest tree when Emilio’s went off as well. Immediately, her ill-will toward Clint evaporated into the ether.

  Emilio swiped at his phone, barely looking at it. Not really needing to. Instead, he leaned in and pressed his lips to her ear. “If I win, that ass is mine.”

  Ava stifled a giggle. “I have to change first,” she replied, pretending to ignore the tingle in her lower belly.

  Emilio’s arms gripped her tighter, pulled her closer. “Can I watch you go from lace to leather? Could be hot.”

  Ava glanced around and saw the guests thinning out, mostly headed for their own cars. She looked up at him and grinned. “Okay!” she whispered suddenly and grabbed his hand. She darted back into the church, Emilio in tow, and they slipped into the now-deserted changing room. Ava pressed him against the closed door and they locked lips just as she locked the door.

  Emilio’s tongue teased her lips, pleading for entry, as his fingers sought entry of another kind. His hands slid up her back until he found the zipper of her dress. He tugged slowly. God, he always went slowly! It was maddening.

  The straps came down over her shoulders. For the first time, Ava found a benefit to having smaller tits. No bra to fumble with. Emilio wasted no time taking advantage of it, either. His calloused hands caressed her skin as he moved from her shoulders to her breasts.

  Her nipples stiffened, aching for his touch.

  “No, sex, though,” she whispered into his mouth. “It’s church.”

  He nodded, pulling back his tongue just long enough to reply, “Yeah, I don’t need to spend six months lighting candles and saying Hail Marys.”

  It was almost as good, though, as Emilio slid his hands away from her front and moved to her back again. She felt him gathering the hem of her dress and she shivered in anticipation. The cool air hit her thighs as he raised it high. The fabric brushed over her cheeks and he gathered it at her waist.

  She felt his fingers, hard and firm, exploring her sensitive skin. When he realized she was wearing a thong, he groaned loudly. “Does it hurt to sit?” he said in a lower voice.

  “No,” she breathed, pressing her belly into his erection.

  “Do you want it to?” he asked, surprising her.

  Ava herself wasn’t sure what she wanted, but her pussy seemed pleased at the suggestion. Her clit throbbed at his words and she pictured herself bent over his bike, ass in the air, his hands delivering delicious discipline.

  “Show me,” he demanded suddenly, pushing her away.

  Though they were no longer touching, the heat in his eyes kept them connected as Ava backed up a few steps, trying not to wobble on her heels. In the middle of the room, she put her feet together and wiggled out of the bridesmaid’s dress. It pooled on the floor around her.

  Naked save for her panties and shoes, she turned slowly until she was facing away. She wondered what she looked like. White skin, white panties, white shoes, red bottom.

  Emilio was quiet. So quiet that she finally turned back to look at him over her shoulder. His jaw was tight. His pants were tighter. His hands were fisted at his sides. Only a devilish half-smile on his lips told her he wasn’t angry. He was horny.

  “We’re still going to hell,” he said softly. “Both of us, I think.”

  Ava grinned at him. “Race you there.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  They sped down the highway, away from the city. Emilio was in the lead since she’d glanced at the race location but hadn’t recognized where it was being held. It was on the other side of the Badlands, in an area she hadn’t yet explored. As they rode, she went back and forth with herself about whether or not this would be the only lead she’d let him have tonight.

  His promise (hard to see it as a threat) had been intriguing. What else would he do to her, given the opportunity?

  She didn’t know for certain, but she was tempted to kick his ass in this race and then let him have his way with her anyway.

  Whatever he had in mind, it’d be worth her while. He was worth her while.

  They’d left the artificial lights of the city and rode under the glow of the blanket of stars above them. Tempting to just keep riding forever, but soon enough he signaled to her that their turn was coming up and Ava was as disappointed as she was excited to have reached their destination.

  The light of the bonfire beckoned them, throwing huge shapes against the canyon walls. Shadow warriors in an ancient land. Ahead of them gathered a new breed of warriors, ones clad in leather instead of armor and wielded machines like razor-sharp blades.

  It was no small amount of pride for Ava to know that she was the best among them.

  She spotted Weasel at the same time Emilio did and they slowly made their way over, weaving through the crowd. Ava unzipped her jacket pocket but before she could pull out her money, a single headlight flashed in her eyes. When her vision cleared, Clint appeared before her, looking ridiculous on a bike that he could barely handle. He was flanked by his friends, who looked equally stupid, though this could be because Ava had actually heard them speak at this point.

  “I texted you yesterday,” Clint spat, barely able to keep his eyes off Emilio. His glare was sharp and penetrating, but he licked his lips nervously.

  Ava was reasonably sure he wouldn’t say too much. Not in this crowd of onlookers. “Whatever,” she snapped, quickly looking away. “I was busy.”

  “You’re supposed to pick up the phone when I call you,” Clint argued.

  “Who the hell are you?” Emilio demanded.

  Clint looked at him smugly. “Fuck off, beaner,” he replied. “This doesn’t concern you.”

  Instead of getting mad, Emilio smirked at him. The confidence and cockiness that Ava had gotten used to seemed to come so naturally to him. “You don’t have to answer. I can guess. You know, I haven’t hit the gym today
. I could hit you instead.”

  Clint tried to return the sneer, but on him it merely looked pathetic. “Take a closer look,” he replied. “There’re three of us.”

  Emilio actually did pause to assess the Tweedles. When his disinterested gaze finally came back around to Clint, he simply shrugged. “I can wait while you call some more guys.”

  Ava’s insides jolted as she realized exactly who Clint might call. She could imagine a swarm of Buzzards riding in and surrounding them, chasing off the race revelers in the process. The Buzzards weren’t likely to hurt Emilio, if what she knew about Shooter Sullivan was true. But to bring them all together, way out here in the Badlands, would practically ensure that Emilio would walk away knowing everything about what Ava had been doing these days.

  She couldn’t let that happen.

  Ava pushed her Honda forward, closer to Weasel. Quickly she dug out her entry fee and slapped the stack of bills into his chest. Weasel’s greed didn’t let the bills flutter to the ground, but he shook his head anyway, grinning widely.

  “I think I’d rather watch this,” he announced loudly. “Besides, my riders are already lined up.” He nodded to the group of racers that had assembled behind them. “Too late to enter,” he told Ava. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t find a use for all this cash. Hey!” he yelled to the crowd, “What do y’all think? Should we Thunderdome the spic and the three musketeers? See who wins?”

  The crowd cheered, though Ava would bet even money that half of them hadn’t even heard the question over the roar of engines.

  “Bullshit!” Ava shouted loudly over the din, just in case Weasel was actually considering it. “We’re here to race. And that’s it.” She tossed a hard look at Clint, silently reminding him where they were and why they were here, and it wasn’t to announce to several dozen people that they were moonlighting as drug mules.

  Weasel looked miffed when she turned back to him. Apparently, the idea of a Fight Club had been more than just a joke. He fisted her money but didn’t look happy about it.

  “Fine,” he bit out as he looked at Ava. “Just know, there’re no refunds.”