Confessions (Tattoos & Tears Book 3)

by Amiee Louise

  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.”

  Jack clears his throat, avoiding my gaze.

  “Cheers, Nate, I really appreciate it.”

  I hear a chuckle from the person outside.

  “See you tomorrow, Casanova; I’ll see you at the Green Parks at six a.m. sharp. Don’t be late.”

  Jack laughs to himself.

  “Yeah, no problem, man. I’ll be there. See you tomorrow Nate, give Melody a kiss goodnight from me.”

  I hear the door close, and Jack opens the door. He walks out into the bar, and I awkwardly follow. Jack is behind the bar pouring us both shots of neat Sambuca. I perch on the same bar stool I was sitting at all night, and he pushes the glass across the bar. We both shoot it back at the same time, and I grimace at the burn at the back of my throat. He laughs.

  “Can’t keep up the pace, huh?”

  I slam my glass down on the bar in challenge.

  “Again.”

  He cocks his eyebrow and refills both our glasses.

  “Let’s play a game.”

  I smile as I am reminded of the game that Brody and I played on the tour bus in happier times, back when my life passed for normal. I nod.

  “A girl after my own heart.”

  He smiles a dazzling smile.

  “Right, we’re going to play a truth game.”

  I laugh.

  “After you take your turn you take a shot. I’ll go first. I’m Jack Scott, I’m thirty-four, and this is my bar.”

  I cock my eyebrow. He takes a shot and smirks roguishly.

  “I was keeping you on your toes, petal.”

  He winks, and I roll my eyes.

  “I’m Peyton Harper, I’m twenty-eight, and I’m a tattoo artist. I work for Seb Henry, and I have a six-month-old son, called Freddie.”

  His eyes widen.

  “You have a son?”

  I nod.

  “Shit the bed,” he curses, and I take a shot.

  He refills our glasses.

  “Are you...?”

  He doesn’t finish his sentence, but I can only imagine what’s going through his head, so I finish for him.

  “Am I still with his dad? No, I’m not with him currently. It’s a long, complicated story. I won’t bore you with it.”

  His mouth forms a perfect ‘O’ shape, and he takes a shot.

  “Fuck, you’re...certainly full of surprises,” he rasps and refills his glass.

  “Ok, how can I follow on from that? Erm...I’m single, and when I’m not here, I’m a part-time male model. I’m also a travel writer and blogger. I have a brother, Nate, the guy who knocked on the door. He has a little girl, my niece. She’s three years old. His wife, Hope, died of cancer just after Melody was born, and now it’s just the two of them. We’re extremely close…I’m relatively boring compared to you, petal.”

  He knocks back his drink.

  “You’re not boring, you’re...normal.”

  We both laugh.

  “Normal I can cope with. So who’s the mystery man who you hurt so badly?”

  I take a deep breath, wondering if I can actually go through with telling Jack all about my complicated and sordid past with Sam. I knock back my drink for some Dutch courage, and he refills it immediately. It is as if he senses my reluctance to talk about my past.

  “It can’t be that bad? Who is he? Don’t tell me he’s some international mob boss who’s embroiled in a conspiracy and on the run from the police.”

  He chuckles at his own joke, and we shoot back our drinks at the same time. Here goes nothing.

  “Sam Newbolt.”

  He almost chokes on his drink.

  “Sam Newbolt, as in Bolt from Rancid Vengeance, the rock band? Fuck me.”

  I push my glass across the bar to him, and he refills both glasses.

  “Wow, you’re...”

  I finish his sentence.

  “…complicated, fucked up, broken, a complete disaster. Yep, all of the above, definitely.”

  I laugh bitterly, and he reaches for my hand.

  “I was going to say brave, beautiful…complicated…yeah, but aren’t we all to some extent?”

  Something tells me that the game has ended, and we’re not playing anymore.

  “My life is a fucking car crash, Jack. You should run in the opposite direction.”

  I knock back my drink, and I feel tears stinging my eyes. He shoots back his drink and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He tops off both glasses in silence. I shoot back my drink and get up from the barstool. My head feels fuzzy, but I feel comfortably numb.

  "I should leave."