Tattoos & Tears (Complete Collection)

by Amiee Louise

  I am sat in a bar called JJ’s Inferno. I am perched on a bar stool while wearing a short black leather skirt, which makes my tanned legs look amazing. I also have on a black and white, polka dot, halter neck, corset top, which hugs my slim figure and emphasises my boobs, along with my black Christian Louboutin heels. My short, dark brown hair is secured by a black polka dot headscarf, and I am knocking back vodka. The barman doesn't say a word; he just waits for me to shoot my drink and replaces my empty glass with a new one. He doesn't ask questions, he just quietly observes me in a silent understanding. He probably thinks I am some desperate drunk woman, hoping to get laid; but he couldn't be further from the truth. I'm damaged goods now, and J.D's words echo in my ears.

  ‘Sam doesn't do damaged goods.’

  A lone tear slips down my cheek, and I quickly swipe it away. The barman replaces my drink and leans over the bar. He is extremely good-looking, with sculpted, chiselled cheekbones. He is tall, muscular, and has a shaved head with a black goatee beard and black-rimmed glasses. He has kind but unusual, silver-grey eyes and he is wearing dark jeans, which hug his hips, and a black shirt with the name of the bar embroidered on the left breast pocket. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to reveal vivid, colourful tattoos wrapped around both arms. He has his nose and his ear pierced.

  Why are you always so attracted to tattooed bad boy Sam clones, Harper?

  "Tell me to mind my own business, petal, but do you want to talk about whatever it is that’s making those baby blues of yours look so sad?"

  His voice is deep and rich as he smiles warmly, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth.

  "A beautiful lady like you shouldn't be in a place like this alone."

  His voice is filled with concern.

  "I'm tougher than I look, honey, but thanks for your concern though. I appreciate it."

  I smile, but I know it doesn't reach my eyes. He leans over the bar, and his muscles flex underneath his shirt, temporarily distracting me from my pity party.

  "I’m Jack, by the way."

  He introduces himself as I shoot back my drink and push the glass towards him, eyeing him warily.

  "Peyton," I murmur.

  He reaches for my hand and shakes it, gripping it gently while filling my glass with his other hand.

  "So, do you want to talk about it? I've been watching you all night, petal, silently filling your glass. It’s like watching a car crash that I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from, but I can't watch anymore. You look like you could use a friend; you look so...lost."

  He regards me intently, cocks his head to the side and pushes my now full glass across the bar.

  "It’s fucked up; I fucked up," I say quietly, but to the point.

  Jack leans across the bar and softly brushes my hand reassuringly.

  "We all fuck up at some point, petal; it’s how we come back from it that counts. Like a Phoenix rising from the ashes, you come back stronger, you come back fighting. You look like a tough, beautiful, independent woman, who looks like she's hit a rough patch, and that's ok. It's ok to talk, it's ok to admit it and ask for help. You're only human."

  His words are so wise and kind. I feel tears stinging my eyes from this stranger who knows nothing about me, but suddenly seems to know everything all at once.

  "I hurt someone I loved; unintentionally. I made a bad choice, and I wish I could go back and change it, all of it."

  He smiles kindly, and he cocks his head.

  It seems the alcohol is making me want to wallow in my own self-pity. Great.

  "Things have a habit of working themselves out, don't give up."

  He leans closer to me, as if sharing a secret.

  "I'll let you into a little secret, we men are extremely stubborn, and we don't realise what we've got until it's too late. It’s in our DNA."

  He winks, and I smile at his optimism. I shoot back my drink, and he refills my glass again.

  "You should consider slowing down, petal."

  I narrow my eyes at him and shoot back my drink insolently.

  “I think you should consider minding your own fucking business,” I snap, and he holds his hands up defensively.

  "You're going to regret it in the morning; that’s all I’m saying. No judgement here. You're going to wake up with one killer hangover."

  I shrug. The truth is, I don't care. I'm way past caring. The constant nightmares are taking a toll on my sanity, and my finger is pressed firmly on the self-destruct button.

  "Go and make it right."

  I shake my head.

  "I can't, I don't know how to anymore. It’s over between us. I can’t give him what he needs, Jack. I can’t be the woman he fell in love with, it’s not possible."

  My voice is shaky, and I swallow past the lump in my throat, knocking back my drink. My head is spinning now, and I feel like I'm floating.

  "I'm damaged, Jack, look at me! I'm a fucking mess! Don’t you see?" I slur. "I’m broken, and I’m a selfish fucking bitch.”

  I let out a strangled sob, and the few people that are left in the bar are staring at me.

  “Don’t talk about yourself that way, petal.”

  I fumble with my purse and throw some money haphazardly onto the bar.

  "I'm sorry, Jack, I have to go."

  I climb from the bar stool and stumble as my feet touch the floor.

  "Shit!" Jack curses and vaults over the bar.

  He’s at my side in seconds and steadies me. I balk as his muscular, corded arm wraps around my waist, and I push him away.

  "I'm fine!" I snap, and he sighs.

  "No, you're not fine. Please, at least give me your phone and let me call someone for you. It's not safe for you on your own out there."

  I shake my head; the tears are falling freely now.

  "No, please, I just need to go home," I sob.

  I struggle from his strong grip, and I stumble again. I fall into his hard chest.

  Fuck me, I'm so drunk. Who keeps moving the floor?

  The room is starting to spin, and he steadies me. I just want to forget. I need to forget, just for a little while.

  I look up at Jack, and before I know what I'm doing, I press my lips urgently to his. I expect him to push me away, but his hand snakes around my back, crushing me to him, and I rest my hand on his warm chest. His heart is beating erratically. His tongue feels like velvet against mine, and his lips are so soft. A soft moan escapes from my throat, and I need him to take it all away. I need him to make me forget. He sucks on my bottom lip, and his free hand wraps in my hair. I can feel his erection pressing into my stomach, and I reach down to stroke him through the material of his jeans. He growls and breaks our kiss.

  "Fuck."

  We are both panting and breathless, all eyes of the bar patrons are on us.

  "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! We can't do this," he curses, and I shake my head.

  "I want you, Jack."

  His hand tangles in my hair and pulls me closer to him.

  "Don't say things you don't mean, Peyton."

  He rests his forehead on mine and looks in my eyes, as if he is waging an internal war with himself.

  "I want you, please, Jack," I say more forcefully, and he closes his eyes.

  "You don't know what you're asking for, petal. I only do one-night stands. I’m a complete prick, and I’m fucking selfish. I'll take your number, but I won't call. I'll break you. I'm not a good person."

  I shake my head.

  "Maybe I don't want you to call; maybe I want a one-night stand. I need you to take it away, Jack, please."

  The truth is, it’s what I need, what I've been craving. I need to forget Sam and move on, once and for all.

  “Christ alive, what the fuck are you doing to me?”

  Jack nods curtly and drags me across the room.

  "Watch the bar, Nate," he calls out.

  Jack pulls me into a back room with a pool table in it and closes the door behind us, flipping the lock. He stalks towards me and wraps
his hand in my hair, tugging it gently. He crashes his lips against mine and kisses me deeply, his velvet tongue probing my mouth.

  "I’ve been watching you all night. Fuck me, you are so fucking hot."

  He breaks our kiss and lifts me up onto the pool table.

  “Spread your legs wide for me, petal,” he says sternly.

  I do as he says, without question. He reaches down under my skirt and slides my knickers to the side. He sweeps his finger up my slit and growls.

  "Christ on a bike, you are fucking soaking."

  I reach for his erection and stroke him through his jeans. He moans softly and places his hand over mine on the bulge in his trousers.

  "That's it, look how hard you've made me. You're such a bad girl."

  I shiver at his words, and he pushes a large finger into my aching pussy.

  "Oh, Jesus!"

  He moves in and out, increasing his pace until I am practically riding his hand. He introduces another finger, and I lean back on my elbows, allowing him more access.

  "Do you like me finger fucking your wet pussy?"

  I bite my lip.

  "Mmm," I moan, and it’s all I can manage as he introduces a third finger.

  He increases his pace, and I throw my head back as I feel my orgasm rippling to the surface.

  "God, you're so fucking close, I can feel you throbbing against my fingers."

  I moan loudly, as his thumb finds my sensitive swollen nub.

  "Oh, Jack!"

  He grins, like the cat that got the cream.

  "That's it; give it up for me, Peyton.”

  He increases the motion, and I find myself panting for him.

  “Look at me, petal; I want to watch you come.”

  His voice is demanding and authoritative. I open my eyes and my blue eyes lock on to his grey ones. His eyes are blazing and hooded with lust.

  “Good girl, let go. Come for me now."

  It's all it takes for my orgasm to tear through me like a lightning bolt. I scream loudly as Jack squeezes every last ounce of pleasure out of me.

  "Jesus, that was the fucking sexiest thing I've ever seen, watching you come around my fingers like that."

  His voice is low and seductive. I look at him, my eyes hooded with lust.

  "I need you to fuck me now, Jack."

  He smiles and starts to unbutton his shirt, revealing a large, muscular, tattooed chest. He takes off his glasses, and he looks so ruggedly handsome. He drops his shirt to the floor, slips off his biker boots and starts to unzip his jeans. He drops them to the floor, along with his Batman boxer shorts. My eyes widen as I catch sight of his impressive erection. He is huge and has a piercing on the end of his bell-shaped head.

  "Do you want me to fuck you hard and fast, Peyton, or slow and gentle?"

  I bite my lip.

  “Hard and fast. Fuck, I need it hard, Jack,” I pant desperately, and he nods.

  “Nice choice, petal.”

  He winks as I take off my halter neck top and wriggle out of my leather skirt. Soon, I am laid on the pool table in just my black lacy French knickers. I am not wearing a bra.

  "Fuck, you’re so sexy."

  I feel self-conscious of the scars that J.D left me with, but the dim lighting in the room conceals them, making them virtually unnoticeable. He steps closer to me and cups my breast in his large hand, flicking my nipple piercing.

  "You have perfect tits, petal," he rasps.

  Jack rolls my already erect nipple between his fingers, and I moan softly.

  "Mmm, that feels so good."

  He leans down and takes my nipple between his teeth, nipping gently. His other hand reaches down and tears my knickers off completely, the ripping echoes through the room. He shoves a finger into my pussy roughly and kneads my breast.

  "I love how fucking wet and ready you are for me."

  His voice is low and raspy.

  "Are you ready for my big hard cock?"

  I nod.

  "Answer me," he orders.

  "Yes! I’m ready for your cock, Oh God! Yes! Please fuck me, Jack!”

  My voice is breathy and desperate as he removes his finger from inside me and reaches down into his jeans pocket. He tears a foil condom packet open with his teeth and sheathes himself.

  “Look at me, petal. I need your eyes. Show me those eyes as I enter you.”

  My eyes lock with his smoky greys as the head of his thick cock finds my entrance. He shoves forward, entering me forcefully and causing me to cry out.

  "Ahh!"

  He stills, as a look of quiet concern washes over his rugged features.

  "Are you ok, petal? Am I hurting you? Do you need me to take out my piercing?"

  I shake my head no, and a look of satisfaction crosses his handsome face.

  “OH GOD JACK! DON’T STOP! PLEASE DON’T STOP!”

  I pant breathlessly. He nods and pushes himself deeper inside me.

  "Harder! Oh, fuck me harder!" I scream.

  "Do you like it hard and fast? You look like a hard and fast kind of girl."

  I nod as he pistons in and out, filling me to the hilt as his piercing rubs against me in the most delicious way.

  "Good answer, petal. Do you like it rough?"

  I nod.

  "Oh Jack! Give it to me, I need it hard and fast," I growl.

  He pulls my hair and presses his lips to mine desperately. His rough goatee beard grazing my chin. I wrap my hands around his neck and pull myself up, riding his cock as his pace becomes frantic and urgent. He thrusts deep, and he moans.

  "Oh fuck! You feel so good around my cock."

  He lifts me up, so my whole body is laid on the pool table, and he climbs on top of me.

  "Wrap those gorgeous legs around my waist and dig those fucking sexy heels into my arse."

  I do as he asks and wrap my legs around his lean waist. I dig the points of my heels into his deliciously tight arse cheeks, and he throws his head back in ecstasy.

  "Jesus fucking Christ!" he growls.

  His thrusts become fast and hard. I writhe beneath him, panting and cupping my breasts in my hands.

  "That's it, gorgeous, grab those beautiful tits."

  He looks down at me with hooded eyes and his hand snakes down my flat stomach to find my swollen clit. He rubs my nub in lazy circles, and I can feel another orgasm rising. I arch my back up to create a delicious friction as his relentless rhythm becomes urgent.

  "Let it go, that's it, fucking come all over my cock."

  That's all it takes for my orgasm to ripple through my entire body.

  "JACK!"

  With one more thrust, Jack shouts his own release.

  "FUCK, PEYTON!"

  He collapses, spent on top of me. We are both left breathless and panting. After a few minutes, he pulls out of me, pulls the condom off, knots it, and throws it in the bin on the other side of the room. I watch him walk naked; his body is taut and athletic. His tanned legs are muscular, and he has full, vivid, colourful leg tattoos.

  "Are you checking me out, petal?"

  He chuckles throatily; I sit up and bite my lip.

  "I might be. Do you have a problem with women shamelessly checking you out, Jack?" I say sassily, and he cocks his eyebrow.

  "Not at all, especially if they're all as beautiful as you are."

  I laugh.

  "Flattery as well, wow and here's me thinking you were a bad boy."

  He laughs too.

  "I can be whatever you want me to be, petal," he says seductively, and I lick my lips.

  He is extremely handsome, and he reminds me of a muscular, tattooed and pierced version of the male model, David Gandy. He starts to dress, pulling on his boxers, jeans and shrugging on his black shirt. I jump down from the pool table and start to dress too. We both dress in a relatively awkward silence. He finishes buttoning up his shirt, and there’s a loud rap on the door, which makes me flinch. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

  “Jackers, I’ve closed up the
bar for you, dude. All you need to do is cash up and lock up.”