Hard (2 page)

CHAPTER THREE

Stiles watched Treble work the women for a while as he smiled into his beer. He knew he shouldn’t have come here, but he had to see Bridget one last time. They had talked about breaking things off the last time they were together. Bridget had wanted to continue until the wedding, rationalizing she wasn’t breaking her vows until then. But until then, she and Stiles carried on with this affair. Even though the two of them knew that Bridget’s marriage to Terry Lewis was nothing but a show for her parents, they knew it was something that had to go through. No matter what. After she left for what was supposed to be the last time, he had resolved to not see her again, to break it off clean. But he had weakened and here he was.

Treble surprised Stiles when he zeroed in on Bridget’s sister Lindy. The family resemblance had been  unmistakable and as far as Stiles was concerned, he couldn’t blame his best friend

As for Stiles, Bridget had been watching him with pleading eyes all night. He finished his beer and decided that enough was enough. He came here to see her, and if he was going to see her, he was going to do it up close, not from afar like some fucking loser.

When he came over, Bridget’s friend Tomi—who had a bad habit of wildly overestimating her drinking skills--was hanging on him like a cheap suit, and he had to force himself to not shove her away as Bridget smoldered.

“I think I’m drunk,” Tomi giggled as she pressed into him.

“I think you are.”

“I need a ride home.”

“I agree,” Stiles said. Tomi was pretty enough, and was as subtle as an elephant in making her willingness clear, but he had no intentions of leaving with her. He would leave with only one woman tonight, or none at all. He watched as Treble escorted the slightly wobbly Lindy out and he smiled to himself.
Now ain’t that some shit? The two of us sleeping with sisters.

“Hey Stiles.” Bridget slurred as she made her way over, sparing just a quick glare at Tomi.

“Bridget.”

“I want a tattoo, to remember this night by,” she proclaimed.

Stiles chuckled. “Are you sure you’re in any condition to make a decision like that? Maybe you should think about it until morning.”

“Nope! I want one. You want to give it to me?”

He licked his lips at her words. “If that’s what you want.”

“I do. More than you would believe. Who wants to go see me get a tattoo?” Bridget asked loudly.

Of the eight women there, only four were interested, Tomi most of all.

“Great! Let’s go,” Bridget rose to her feet. She wasn’t completely steady but she took a deep breath to gather herself. “Let me go pay my tab. Can you give us a ride?”

“I’m on a bike.”

“We can call a cab.”

“I’ll ride with Stiles.” Tomi grabbed Stiles before Bridget had even finished her sentence. “The rest of you can take the cab, that way it won’t be so crowded.”

By the time the tabs were paid, the cab had arrived. Stiles bundled three of the women, including Bridget, into the cab, and gave the driver the address for SkinMusic. As the cab pulled away, he escorted Tomi to his bike. “You ever ridden a bike before?” he asked as they approached.

“Oh sure! Lots of times,” she said, but he had to jerk her back quickly as she started to mount the bike before him. Had she gotten on before him, with the bike on the side stand, it would have fallen over, a sure sign she didn’t know what the hell she was doing.

“Stop. Let me.” He mounted the bike, stood it upright, and handed Tomi his helmet as he brought the hog to life. She was so drunk she would probably fall off the damn thing, and at least with a helmet on, she might wake up the next morning.

***

“So what’s it going to be, ladies?” Stiles asked as he flipped on the lights. If you want it completed tonight, it’ll have to be small and simple.”

“I want a heart. A broken heart,” Bridget said as she stepped forward.

Stiles pursed his lips, her statement cutting him. “Here,” he said, setting a book on the counter and flipping it to the hearts section. “Pick out something you like,” he said softly, not meeting her eyes. “Anyone else? We need to snap this up if anyone besides Bridget gets one.”

The women mumbled among themselves a moment, but only Tomi stepped forward. “I do.”

Stiles smiled at her. Of course she would. “Do you know what you want?”

“A dragon!”

Stiles laughed. “A dragon, huh? You know I can’t do that all tonight.”

“I can stay late…then you can work on me some more in the morning.”

“I’m sure you can, but the last thing you want is a sleepy tattoo artist working on you. I tell you what,” he said reaching under the counter for another book. “Take this and have a seat in there,” he said with a nod of his head at the waiting area. “Flip through it and see if anything catches your eye. I will do Bridget’s then we’ll make a plan for yours.”

Tomi took the book with a smile and weaved her way into the waiting room, the other two women following her.

“That cunt,” Bridget snarled under her breath.

“Now, now,” Stiles said with a smile. “You’re the one who said we had to keep this below the radar. I couldn’t very well tell her I was sleeping with her friend, now could I?”

“She’s still a cunt. She’s lucky I don’t kick her ass.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes. Something to remember you, us, by.” She spun the book around and pointed to a small heart with a tear down the middle. “That one.”

“Where?”

“Here,” she said, touching the inside of her left breast.

“I have a better idea,” Stiles said. “How about on your ankle? That way maybe, someday, your heart can bring you back to me.” He didn’t mention that placing it below her ankle would make it easy to conceal if she regretted her decision later.

Bridget whimpered, trying not to cry. “Okay, my ankle.”

He put on gloves before pulling paper over the table and then gave it a pat. After Bridget hopped onto the padded table, he carefully freehanded the heart design onto her ankle, but modified it to make it resemble a butterfly, the rip becoming the body. After transferring the design and surrounding the rest of her foot in barrier cloth, he set to work, carefully inking in the body of the butterfly.

“How’re you doing?” he asked as the machine buzzed in his hand.

“It hurts,” she said, grimacing as he inked.

“I know. Let’s take a break and let me check on dragon lady in there.”

He returned in a moment and picked up his phone. “All three of them are asleep,” he said softly as he called the cab company again.

“Good,” Bridget murmured.

He cleaned his work area while waiting on the cab, then got the women roused. “Ready for me?” Tomi asked as she tried to drag herself up out of the fog.

“Tomorrow, okay? By the time I finish Bridget I won’t be in any shape to work on you.”

“You promised,” she pouted.

“Come see me tomorrow, if you’re still interested, and I’ll give you a dragon tattoo that will be the envy of all your friends.”

“Okay,” she said but continued to pout and delay as he hustled her and her friends out the door. “What about Bridget?”

“I still have some work to do on her. I’ll send her home later.”

Stiles got the three women in the cab and gave the driver a hundred to see that all three got home safely.

When he returned, Bridget was looking at her ankle with a mirror. “Is that the design I picked out?”

“Yes, but modified a little so it’s unique.”

“It kind of looks like a butterfly.”

“So your steps may be as light.”

She looked at him, her eyes tearing up. She wanted to tell him, to pour her heart out about how she felt. He had started out as nothing more than a plaything, a distraction, but he was so much more now.

“You ready to finish this?” he asked as he sat down again.

“No. I need something else from you.”

“You do?” he asked, taking her foot and massaging it. If she didn’t want to finish the tattoo he should send her home, but as he caressed her foot, he knew he wouldn’t. He had tried to end this several times already, but each time he weakened and couldn’t carry through.

“Yes. I need you to fuck me.”

“It just makes this harder, Bridget. You’re going to be married in two weeks.”

“I know. But I need you, Stiles. I need to feel your touch tonight.”

He looked down, drowning in shame again. “And Terry?”

“He’s in Vegas for a convention. He won’t be back until Wednesday night.” She looked at him, and could see the pain in his eyes. She knew she was hurting him but she couldn’t let him go, not yet, not until the very last moment.

She slid off the table and to her knees in front of him. “Please, Stiles, we don’t have much time left. Can’t we enjoy our last few days together before I become Mrs. Terry Lewis?”

“This is wrong, Bridget. You know that.”

“Then why did you come to Cutters?” she whispered as she moved in to take his lips. “It’s because you know this is so very right.”

He started to push her away, but the warmth of her breath on his lips caused his resolve to disappear like smoke in a wind. He took her by the back of the head and pulled her lips strongly to his, her arms going around his neck as she leaned into the kiss while their tongues darted and probed. She pulled back, her eyes bright, but no longer from tears.

“Take me to bed, Stiles. Take me to bed and fuck me like you have never fucked me before.” 

CHAPTER FOUR

“This is where you live?” Lindy asked as Treble pulled into an RV campground.

“That’s right,” he replied as he putt-putted through the park.

The ride through the night air had cleared her head a bit and she was feeling less strung out and itchy. They pulled to a stop beside a large RV that looked a lot like a city bus, but with parts of the walls sticking out and a better paint job. He killed the bike and waited for her to dismount before leaning the bike onto the stand.

He opened the door to the RV and stood back. “Make yourself at home. I just need to put the bike away.”

She stepped up into the RV and looked around. She had never been in an RV before, and didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t this. The place appeared larger than she expected, and was amazing, with hard wood floors and leather seating areas. It looked more like what she imagined a business jet would look like than an RV. She looked out of the window when she heard the bike start and watched as Treble rode the Harley into an enclosed trailer. A moment later he stepped out, closed and locked the door, then entered.

“Whatcha think?” he asked with obvious pride.

“I’m impressed. For some reason I thought living in an RV would be…I don’t know…more like living in a nice tent. This place is nicer than my apartment.”

“I like it.”

“Why do you live here? I mean, why in an RV?”

“Lots of people live in an RV. I grew up living in one.”

“I know, but when I think of people living in one, I think of retired people.”

“My dad works on pipelines. Rather than living in motels, we lived in an RV. Cheaper in the long run and he was always home. When a job finished, we would drive to the next site and start over. Mom home-schooled me. Stiles, his dad and my dad worked together.”

“Does he live in a RV, too? Or here with you?”

“No and no. He owns SkinMusic and lives there.”

“SkinMusic?”

“Yeah, a tattoo place over on South Boulevard. He does all my ink. You want something to drink?”

“No,” Lindy said. “I think I have had enough. But you didn’t say why
you
live in an RV.”

“I just do. I like the small space,” he replied as he stepped toward the back. “This was Dad’s. When he upgraded, I bought his old one,” he continued as he returned with a small plastic bottle, stopping at the sink and filling a large glass with water. “It’s a cheap way to live. It only costs me four hundred a month to park here, and that includes all the utilities. Plus, when I get ready to move on, I don’t have to pack. Here,” he said handing her the bottle and glass. “Take four of those.”

“Why?”

“Trust me. You’ll be glad you did in the morning.” Lindy looked at the bottle then shook four Advil into her hand and quickly downed them with a healthy swallow of water. “Drink all the water. Trust me,” he said again when she hesitated.

“Do you move around a lot?” she asked after drinking the glass empty.

Treble grinned as he took the glass back. “It depends on how she likes it.”

Lindy giggled. “Oh stop it. You know what I mean.”

“Every few years I get the itch to go someplace new.”

“How long have you been here?”

“I don’t know, about eighteen months, I guess. Why?”

“Just wondering. I’m still trying to figure you out.”

“Nothing to figure out,” he said as he moved in closer.

“You’re certainly not like I expected when I saw you walk into Cutters.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“Let me try to convince you, then,” he said as he slowly brought his lips to hers.
She returned the kiss, but the hunger from the parking lot was gone.
So…the ice princess returns. I’m going to enjoy thawing you out.
He pulled back from the kiss but held his lips close to hers, making his intentions clear before pulling her down onto the couch.

Lindy allowed him to draw her down. She wanted him, but she was nervous. She had never been picked up in a bar before and certainly had never put herself in the situation she was in now.

“Relax,” he breathed as he kissed her again. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She tried to relax, and as they kissed she could feel her passions rising as he kissed down her jaw, his lips and tongue dancing on her skin. She leaned back, allowing him to move lower, his lips caressing their way under her chin then down the opening of her shirt, making her want to groan in desire as her passion spooled up.

“You like that?” he whispered as he kissed the valley between her breasts.

“Yes…”

He smiled as he slithered his tongue along the edge of her blouse, kissing slowly and enjoying the game. He opened a button, then another before he felt her stiffen again. He moved his hands from her buttons and began to work his way back to her lips. When he reached them, she kissed him hungrily.

He began to work his way down her chest again, nudging the fabric of her shirt out of the way with his face and kissing her more firmly as his own passions began to ramp up, but once again she began to stiffen. “What’s the problem?” he asked as he pulled back, working to keep the annoyance out of his voice. There was playing hard to get, but this chick was taking it too far.

“Nothing! I’m sorry. I’m just…”

“Just what, Lindy?” he asked, sitting up. “Are we going to do this or not? If we are, great. If not, that’s fine, too, but make up your mind.”

“I’m just nervous, okay?”

“Lindy, I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to. What are you nervous about? If you don’t want to do this, fine, just tell me. I’ll take you back to the bar, call you a cab, whatever.”

“No, it’s not that. I want to…but…”

“But what?”

“I’ve never been with a man before, okay?” she snapped as she pushed at him. She burned with shame and didn’t know why. “Maybe I should just go.”

“You’re still a virgin?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, unable to meet his eyes.

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry. Look, we can stop right now with no hard feelings, okay?”

“You sounded mad.”

“Well…” he began, wondering what to say, then decided on the truth. “I was getting a little annoyed, but that was before I knew. I thought you were just being a tease.”

Lindy pouted a moment. “I want this, I really do, but I’m afraid.”

“Don’t be afraid. If you want to leave I can take you home…or you can stay. We’ll take it slow and we can stop any time. I won’t pressure you.”

She looked at him, her eyes narrowing. “Why are you being so nice?”

Why, indeed?
he wondered before the answer came to him. She was offering him a great gift and he felt honored. He had never had a virgin before and he felt the weight of responsibility fall on him. “Because I’m not a bad guy,” he said simply.

“You’ll be gentle with me?”

“As gentle as you want me to be.”

“And if I want to stop?”

“Then we’ll stop.”

“You won’t be mad?”

“No.”

She looked into his eyes and could see the truth. This wasn’t how she imagined it would be, giving herself for the first time to a tattooed biker after she had a few too many in a bar. But she wanted him, wanted him more than any man before. He exuded confidence and a ‘no fucks given’ attitude, but when the chips were down, he hadn’t tried to force her to continue. Perhaps Bridget was right, and she would regret it in the morning, but she decided to trust him.

“Let’s go to the bedroom.”

He smiled at her and rose to his feet before offering his hand. She took it and he pulled her gently to her feet, pulling her in close and kissing her again.

She obviously liked to kiss, and felt comfortable doing that, so he pulled her in close and held her as they explored each other’s mouths, but he didn’t touch her intimate areas. Lindy was a fucking
goddess
, and he couldn’t understand how she could possibly still be a virgin looking the way she did, but as much as he wanted to throw her on the bed and fuck her blind, he was going to have to take it slow tonight. The women that he normally picked up were interested in the same thing he was—sport fucking—going to bed with someone new simply to give and receive physical pleasure with a fuck and get fucked attitude. But this was a rare and precious thing with Lindy and he didn’t want to screw it up. He slowly pulled back from the kiss and held her eyes, eyes that spoke of her need and her fear. With a small smile he slowly led her to the back of the RV.

She was surprised at the size of the bed, though it was a snug fit around the edges. He paused and turned toward her, obviously waiting on something. “I don’t know what to do,” she murmured.

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. I want you…but…”

“Shhh…” he said, pulling her down on the bed with him. “We’ll just take it slow, okay?”

She nodded then leaned into him, offering her lips to him again. She had done her share of kissing, and had been stimulating herself to orgasm for several years, but that was it. Between the tequila and Treble’s considerable charms, she was ready and she didn’t understand why she was holding back. She
wanted
him to make love to her, but the little voice in the back of her head, crying out how she was making a terrible mistake, just
wouldn’t
shut the fuck up!

Treble could feel the war raging within Lindy as she alternated between pushing forward and pulling back. He had lost his virginity almost ten years ago, when he was sixteen, and he could remember, barely, how nervous he felt. Not only was he nervous, he hadn’t known shit about pleasing a woman, but that hadn’t stopped him and the girl from screwing their brains out in the back seat of her parent’s car. Now he bedded as many as three or four women a week, and having banged some sweaty, vacant eyed, girl last night, he could be patient with this uptight chick as she finally became a woman.

She gasped as he slowly opened the last of the buttons on her blouse and resisted the urge to cover herself even as she flooded, her body crying out for him.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he murmured, “fucking sexy.”

His words caused another wave of heat to pour over her as his lips kissed slowly along the edge of her bra. She was almost panting with desire and
finally
that little voice shut the hell up.

“If I want to go, I can?” she asked, needing to be reassured she was safe and was doing this of her own free will.

He never stopped slowly kissing her breast. When she didn’t answer he paused and softly kissed her lips. “Do you want to leave?”

“No…” she breathed softly.