Inked: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World)

by Tracy Lorraine

  “You’re driving me crazy, baby.” I melt in his arms and give in to temptation.

  Spinning so we’re facing once again, I look up into his eyes. The blue is significantly darker compared to when I first looked into them earlier this evening.

  His tongue runs along his bottom lip, and I can’t help but watch its journey. His eyes bounce between mine before he lowers his head.

  Time seems to stop as I wait for us to connect, but the second his lips brush mine it’s like someone hits fast forward on my life.

  He kisses me softly, just an innocent brush of lips before his hands slip up to my waist and his tongue teases my lips. Pressing myself into his body, my lips part, eager to accept what he has to offer.

  The second our tongues collide, something explodes between us. My fingers grip the fabric of his shirt and I cling onto him for fear that my knees are going to buckle as our tongues explore and our teeth clash. It’s been a long time since I’ve been kissed, but fuck, I don’t remember it ever being like this.

  One song blurs into the next, but eventually we part in favor of dragging some air into our lungs. Although, Corey doesn’t go all that far as he runs kisses along my jaw and down my neck.

  “You’re driving me fucking crazy,” he murmurs into my ear when he gets there, making me shiver with delight.

  “I… uh…” I stutter, now feeling a little awkward seeing as we’re standing in the middle of a massive crowd, having just made out like teenagers in front of them all.

  Both our chests heave, and when I look into his eyes, I find them almost black with desire. Lust hits me right in the core, knowing that I can cause that kind of reaction in a man like him. It’s usually Bailey who does this kind of thing. I wonder for a moment what’s come over me. It’s been years since I’ve pushed everything aside in favor of pleasure that only a man can offer. I tell myself that it’s either the tequila or the dress—possibly a mix of both—giving me a bit of the confidence I used to have in my younger years.

  Blowing out a breath, knowing that I need to put some space between us before this goes too far, I stand back.

  I don’t look up at him again for fear of what I might find on his face.

  “I... uh… need to use the bathroom.” I step around him and squeeze between the bodies dancing beside us. I’m almost at the edge of the crowd when his arm and hand slips around my waist.

  “You don’t need to run. Let me walk you.”

  I want to tell him no, that he should go back to the party and leave me to do my thing, but as I open my lips to say the words, they die on my tongue. Having him beside me feels too good to ignore, so instead, I allow him to walk me to the bathroom.

  “Thanks,” I mutter, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden, which is crazy seeing as I was basically dry humping him out on the dance floor not all that long ago. “You should go back up to the party. Austin might be looking for you.”

  “Why do I get the impression that you’re trying to get rid of me?”

  My eyes go wide, not wanting him to think that. “No, not at all. I just didn’t think you’d want to hang around the bathrooms like a loser.”

  “You think I’m a loser?” One side of his lips curls into a smile.

  My cheeks heat and my breath catches. “No, that’s not what—”

  “I was joking.” He lifts his hand to my cheek, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. “Don’t look so worried.”

  I nod, unable to say anything with the way he’s looking into my eyes.

  Thankfully, someone jostling him from behind breaks our connection.

  “I’m just going to…” I trail off, gesturing behind me.

  “I’ll be upstairs.” He winks before turning and leaving me with the space I need to breathe.

  After standing in line for what feels like hours, I eventually manage to get to a stall to do my thing.

  I’m standing at the sink, reapplying my lip gloss, when a familiar flash of blonde appears over my shoulder.

  “Sooo… Is he as good a kisser as I expected?”

  “I don’t know what you’re—”

  “Oh, no, no, no. I watched you two going at it on the dance floor, so don’t even think about lying to me. You don’t get to steal my man and then kiss and not tell.”

  “I didn’t steal—”

  She waves her hand in front of me, brushing aside my argument. “Was he good?”

  I sigh, wondering how to describe him.

  “Forget it, that sigh and the goofy eyes say it all.”

  “It says nothing, B. He was a good kisser. It was fun. But that’s all this is.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Because in case you’d forgotten, I’m not looking for a man, and especially not a one-night stand. I’ve got too much other stuff to worry about. I don’t need the whole ‘does he like me, doesn’t he? Is he going to call?’ thing adding to my stress.”

  “But he could be the perfect stress relief.”

  “Men always come with drama.”

  “Only if you allow them to. Think about it… one hot night. Let him banish the tension that’s been pulling your muscles tight and then allow him to walk out the door, knowing you both got what you needed. Bam. End of. He’s happy. You’re happy. You can continue with your life.”

  I sigh once more, but this time it’s not with memories of how his kiss felt. It’s heavy with the regret of my past. I know what Bailey is saying is right, but I’ve been there and done that. I know that one night of passion, of pushing my problems aside isn’t going to help in the long run. Hell knows I’ve tried.

  I know she’s just trying to encourage me to enjoy myself but she’s no idea what it’s like for me. She might have been there with me through most of it but still, it’s not the same. And while she might think I can just have fun, I’m always terrified of falling back into old habits and returning to a side of me that I never want to visit again.

  “Thanks, B. But I know what I’m doing.”

  She gives me a sad smile as I walk away from the mirror. I know her heart’s in the right place. She just wants me to let my hair down and have some fun. It’s just easier said than done with the skeletons hiding in my closet.

  “I trust you.”

  I’m half expecting him to still be waiting for me when I step from the bathroom, but I’m pleasantly surprised when I don’t find him.

  Making my way through the crowds of people, I head up the stairs in the hope of a new drink before I can wish Austin a happy birthday and sneak out while no one’s paying attention.

  Without looking, I walk straight toward the bar. I only realize my mistake when I come to a stop beside the small gathering in front of it.

  “Harlow, there you are. Bailey said she’d dragged you here, but I was beginning to think she was lying,” Austin says.

  “Oh, she made quite the entrance. I’m surprised you missed it,” Colton announces much to everyone’s amusement.

  “Yeah, I’m… uh… sorry about that,” I mutter, unable to look into his eyes.

  “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

  “Stop bragging,” Austin says with a laugh. “Not all of us have women falling at our feet on a daily basis.” He’s clearly been filled in with all the mortifying details of my arrival.

  Colton shrugs, not in the least bothered by their banter, while Corey assesses me with an amused smile on his face.

  “Corey, have you met Harlow? She’s a fundraiser at Corporate Cares.”

  “Yeah, you could say we’ve met.” He winks at me. Both Austin and Colton turn their attention from him to me, and I instantly start praying that the floor will swallow me up.

  “Is that right?” Austin says, looking a little too intrigued.

  “He just bought me a drink earlier.” I drop my eyes to the floor. Anyone who knows me even slightly would be able to tell I’m lying from a mile away, but I’m hardly going to announce that I let him dry hump me on the dance floor—it’s bad enough they could have watched.
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  Thankfully Rylee joins us, wrapping her arm around Colton’s waist and looking up at him like he’s God, which, to be fair, he kind of is.

  A strong bolt of jealousy threatens to double me over. It’s not because she has him or anything—I know my previous infatuation with him was just that—but it’s the love that passes between them. It’s so pure, so honest. It reminds me of how my parents used to look at each other, and that thought alone is enough to have a ball of emotion growing in my throat faster than I can control.

  “Sorry to be a party pooper, but we need to head off,” Rylee says sadly.

  “Not at all. I’m so glad you could come.” I stand aside as Austin says his goodbyes and then mutter my own and manage to keep my hands to myself, unlike my inelegant welcome.

  A weird tension settles between Corey and me as we watch the couple depart. When he turns back, he looks between Austin and me with his brows pulled tight.

  “Drink?”

  “Nah, man. It’s your night, I should be buying you the drinks.”

  “I’m not going to argue with that.”

  “Harlow?” he asks, his deep, rumbling voice vibrating through me. The effect it has on my body is enough to finalize the decision I’d already made while I was in the bathroom.

  “No, thank you. I actually need to get going.”

  Corey’s mouth opens like he wants to say something, to argue, but no words leave.

  Austin’s name being called distracts us all.

  “Hey, how’s it going?” Austin asks, taking a step away from us to greet whoever it is.

  “I’ll bring your drink over,” Corey says as he leaves us.

  He turns his dark eyes on me. The sight pulls at my insides, but I know leaving is the right thing to do. If I stay, I’ll end up drinking more, and I know I’ll make a decision in regards to him that I’ll regret in the morning. A night with him might be fun, but it’s not going to fix things, and I’m fed up of putting a Band-Aid over my issues and hoping they’ll be dealt with.

  “Thanks for… tonight. It was fun.”

  “Not fun enough to make you stay?” The little bit of hope in his eyes kills me. Maybe he is different, but going home with him tonight after just meeting him isn’t the way to test that. Finding a man is nowhere on my to-do list right now.

  “I’m sorry, I just got—”

  “It’s fine. If you need to go, then you need to go. Can I at least give you my number, should you change your mind?”

  I chew on my bottom lip as I consider what to say, but before I know what I’m doing, I’m reaching into my purse for my cell.

  I swipe the screen to wake it up, but nothing happens. Well, I guess that’s fate telling me this isn’t meant to be.

  I might not always agree with how things turn out or be able to find a rational reason for them, but I do believe in fate and that everything happens for a reason.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, holding my dead cell up to show him. “Battery’s dead.”

  Dropping it back into my purse, I don’t notice he’s moved until I look back up and find him waving to the bartender.

  “Do you have a pen?”

  The second one is handed over, he starts scribbling something down on a scrap of card. “Here,” he says, passing it over. I stare down at the number scrawled across it and wonder if it’ll ever be one I call. Probably not.

  “No pressure, but I’d love to see you again.” He smiles almost shyly, and it makes him look so endearing. I wonder for a brief moment if it’s really him or just an act he’s pulling to try to get what he wants. Hell knows, guys have done worse to get a girl into their bed for the night.

  “Thanks. Well, I’m gonna…” I point over my shoulder and he nods.

  “Until next time.”

  I walk away, wondering if that’s a wish or a promise.

  I guess only time will tell.

  Chapter Four

  Corey

  I roll over the next morning with a faint pounding behind my temples. It’s much less than I deserve after the amount I drank with Austin once she left last night, but I can’t say that I’m not relieved.

  Cracking my eyes open, I stare at my phone on the bedside table, knowing that her number is sitting in it, courtesy of a very drunk and handsy Bailey. My fingers twitch to send her something, anything that might convince her to see me again. One dance and one kiss with her was nowhere near enough.

  It’s just because she turned you down, a little voice says in my head. I must admit, it doesn’t happen all that often, especially not after the way she was moving her body against mine on the dance floor.

  My cock swells as the memory of her arse moving against it resurfaces. Fuck, it felt so good to have a woman in my arms again. I can only imagine how it might have felt to get her into my bed. I look around the room I’m currently in. Okay, so maybe not my bed, but hers. Or any other, to be fair.

  I drop my hand under the covers and wrap my fingers around my length. I pump a few times, her dark eyes, light pink lips, and sinful curves filling my mind as I do. The tingles she caused within me last night reappear, and in only an embarrassingly few minutes later I come to the memory of us locked together in our kiss.

  Fucking hell, my dry spell is turning me back into a damn teenager again. Jacking off to a fucking kiss. Pussy.

  Jumping from the bed, I ignore the boxes around me and go straight for the shower. It’s late and I need to be at the studio, not sitting here dwelling on what could have been and if I should call her. I already know the answer. She wasn’t interested. I shouldn’t call her, despite what her best friend drunkenly slurred at me before Austin and a couple of their coworkers successfully got her in an Uber.

  “She’s scared, Brit boy. She needs someone to chase her because she won’t hand herself over willingly. Me, on the other hand…” She ran her hands up my chest, but she didn’t get very far before I physically removed them. She might be attractive, but I had someone else in my sights.

  I don’t bother walking into my kitchen—it’s pointless. Instead, I head straight out once I’m dressed. The diner a few doors up from the studio has quickly become my second home.

  “Morning,” Laura, the owner, sings as I walk through the entrance, making the little bell chime. “You want the usual?”

  “Please,” I say with a smile, hopping up onto one of the empty stools at the counter as she calls my order through to the kitchen.

  “So, how’re things?” she asks, pushing my first mug of coffee toward me.

  “Same as.”

  “My brother still giving you shit?” She laughs as she grabs a cloth and starts wiping down the already spotless counter. Laura is hot, there’s no denying that, but seeing as she’s one of my artists’ little sisters, she’s totally off-limits. It’s a damn shame, but still, the little daily flirtation we partake in almost makes up for it. I tell myself this every morning, but I’m still yet to believe myself.

  “When isn’t he?” That’s not true. Oz, or Oscar to his family, is possibly the best fucking artist I’ve ever seen. Managing to convince him to come and work for me—for Zach, really—was the biggest achievement I’ve had since taking over here. He’s got an amazing reputation, and he don’t half help bring the clients through the door. His on-and-off girlfriend who came with him, JJ, doesn’t put them off either. She’s a part-time model, part-time artist, and almost every guy in LA wants her leaning over them as she inks their bodies.

  We chat away about nonsense, the weather, the busy summer season, all the usual mundane stuff that completes my morning routine right now before my first coffee is empty and Laura passes me my sausage, egg and bacon roll and a large takeout coffee. This breakfast is my little bit of home, and aside from family and friends, probably part of the only thing I miss. A proper full English fry-up. I might love the Californian sun, but I can’t get on board with waffles and pancakes for breakfast. It’s just not happening. I need grease a-plenty to set me up properly for the day.

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nbsp; I walk out with my cup and roll in hand and make the short journey to the studio. I open up, seeing as I’m the first here, and drop onto one of the sofas in the reception to enjoy my breakfast in peace before the guys arrive.

  There are four of us, or three and a half seeing as JJ is only here part-time. Sledge is the only original artist from before Zach took over. The place was on the verge of going under, and it was purely by chance that I found it when I came here last year to get away from home for a few weeks when things were getting on top of me.

  It was my last night here, and I had the urge to add to my ink to finish the holiday off right. Austin had mentioned this place previously after Rylee had told him about visiting, so I took the chance. And fuck am I glad I did. Sledge and I hit it off immediately, obviously helped by our joint passion, and Sledge was soon explaining how he was about to be unemployed as the owner was selling up. The idea hit me immediately, and I was on the phone to Zach as I walked out after getting my latest ink. The rest is history, I guess. He bought the place almost there and then. He didn’t even fly out, he just took my word for it being the perfect place for him and jumped in head-first.

  Although the idea had floated around my mind about me relocating to run this place, I didn’t think it would happen. I was needed in Manchester. That was my studio after I escaped London the year before, but the second the call came from Zach to ask if I’d move here, there was only one answer I could give. And that’s how I found myself here, living on the sunny Californian coast as far away from my troubles as I could get. Just a shame it’s impossible to leave my nightmares behind me for good. Those motherfuckers will haunt me no matter where I am on the planet, it seems.

  “Morning,” Oz sings as he joins me with his own coffee in hand, courtesy of his sister.

  “Morning. Your better half not with you today?”

  “Ugh,” he grunts, rolling his eyes. “Don’t. Just don’t.”