Page 31 of Ink

“Did I hurt you?” he whispered.

“Only in the best way.”

“Hmm.” His calloused fingers slid against the edge of my tattoo, not touching or tracing, but staring down at it with a bit of wonder.

Maybe he thought I was going to stop him.

Would he have listened if I had asked him to? It didn’t matter, because I wouldn’t have.

“In case it wasn’t clear,” he began, “you’re mine, Xiomara.”

“And you’re mine, too?” I hadn’t meant for it to come out as a question. But it did. I wasn’t a part of the MC life–though now I was. I knew how dynamics worked. The club putas were there to suck off the guys, whether they were taken or not. I wasn’t sure it mattered. Maybe I was asking him if he was going to be loyal to me. But I knew I had to outright say it. My fingers traced the face of a Catrina on his pec. “My dad walked out on us,” I whispered. I hated talking about the bastard but if I did then maybe he would’ve understood my fears. “He went to the U.S.A., sent money a few times, and then disappeared.”

Ink frowned. “He dead?”

I huffed a breath. “Social media shows him happy with his new family over there. Left me, my siblings, and my ma to fend for ourselves. After he made her quit work to be a housewife, he abandoned her with no money. We all had to fight to support each other and help ma pay the bills.”

“Hmm.” His fingers brushed aside my hair. “I won’t do that to you.”

“I didn’t think my dad would do that to me either.”

I could sense his irritation. “I’m not a fucking deadbeat,” he snarled. “I said you’re mine, and that’s a fucking promise. You’re my Vieja now, and I’m going to take care of you. You want to work? Fine, work, do whatever the fuck you want with your time, but know that I am going to be behind you, beside you, wherever the fuck you want me.” He grasped my chin tightly, tilting my head up to press a firm kiss to my lips. “Why the fuck would I want anyone else when I’ve got you?”

My heart melted at those words. I wasn’t one to fall for prose so easily, and yet he didn’t wax poetic. He didn’t say it like some smooth-talking jackass.

When he said those words, I believed them.

“I believe you,” I said, fingers threading through his short hair. I grasped tightly, yanking his head back. “But if you fuck around on me with a club puta, I will shoot them in the head and then cut off your fucking dick.”

The words had his dick hardening between us. “Hmm.” He pressed a kiss to my jawline. “I like you possessive and violent.”

And he may not have realized it, but those words were better than any love declaration he could ever make.

Chapter Thirteen

Xiomara

Weekspassedbyandthe group of MC brothers that had surrounded the shop for protection slowly trickled down to nothing but a few prospects. They’d declared things relatively safe, though I wasn’t worried. Ink was more worried than me, but I told him I could take care of myself.

To that, he’d just pinched my chin between his thumb and forefinger and glared down at me. “I swore to take care of you, and I’m going to.”

He didn’t know how those words affected me. In every possible way.

Ink had flaunted me around the clubhouse as his Vieja almost immediately. True to Ink fashion, he’d just stalked behind me, making me wear a shirt with low cleavage to show off the bright handiwork on my skin.

I hadn’t minded the gesture or the almost feral way he glared at his own brothers for hugging me in congratulations. It had resulted in my ass getting reddened from how hard he’d slapped it and a sore pussy from how brutally he’d thrusted in me.

While his friends and family had immediately accepted me into their fold, my ma was reluctant to trust him. I knew–even if she didn’t want me to–that she was coming around. Ink was going above and beyond trying to impress her.

She didn’t like his domineering ways, but I could see the etched relief on her features every time he showed up at our house to fix something that had been broken for years and we couldn’t afford to fix. The toilet, the leaky ceiling, the piece of shit car. He’d even made the prospects clean the yard and plant new flowers, considering work had made her neglect her plant babies.

My siblings had all but accepted him, calling him cuñado in a show of affection.

I think my ma was just mad he gave me a tattoo. Or maybe she was worried I’d get hurt like she had. But if there was something I knew with absolute clarity it was that Ink was nothing like my dad, and he would never, ever hurt me.

“I’m heading out,” Ink said, slapping my ass as he passed by me. I yelped and shot him a fake look of annoyance. “Loco called a meeting. Prospect’s outside to watch you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” I reminded him, just like I’d been reminding him for days now. He didn’t discuss club business with me, not that I cared, but he had told me that things were quiet.

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