Page 21 of Ink's Devil

The two bikers I’d been speaking to were pleasant but hadn’t stirred me at all. As soon as Ink stepped close, it had been different. His smell of leather and man was dissimilar to theirs in a way I couldn’t explain, and a delightful shiver had gone through me, as though my body had already been programmed to react to him. It wasn’t a welcome revelation. However much I’d tried to dismiss that night from my head, Ink had apparently gotten under my skin.

I’d been surprised when he’d approached, and nervous. Conscious of the mistake I’d probably be making if he offered and I’d gone with him again. It would just be sex, and a repeat of that amazing night would make moving on that much harder.

While I could at least partly blame alcohol for what happened last week, it would compound my mistake to take up any offer made in the cold light of day and both of us completely sober. So rather than hear him make a suggestion I might find hard to resist, I’d fumbled my way through the insinuation my appetite was for food, and to my surprise, he’d allowed the distraction.

I hadn’t expected we’d talk, that he’d open up about what he did for the club, which in light of their reputation sounded boring, yet also, reassuring. He did a job he was trained for. He even asked a little about my life. Yes, we’d gone through some social niceties, and even made a few jokes. We hadn’t discussed what happened last week, well, not using words. The heat in his eyes, the flare in his cheeks, the answering flush on mine—our mouths might be saying one thing, our bodies another. Physical reactions didn’t lie.You turn me on,I’d signalled,I want you,came back.

I knew what he was going to suggest. However much I want to deny it, my answer would not have been a refusal.

I’m frustrated that he’s been called away, discreetly squeezing my thighs together in a vain attempt to ease the arousal which had been building while we’d been talking, knowing I won’t be getting any other relief now and trying to tell myself it’s all for the best.

“You okay, Beth? Sorry I’ve been ignoring you, but Pyro wanted me close and then I had to sort out more food. Christ, these bikers can eat.” Mel flops down in the chair Ink had so recently vacated.

“Hi Mel.” I give myself a little shake. So caught up in my thoughts, I hadn’t seen her approaching. “No worries. You’ve been stocking and restocking the plates. And there I’d been thinking you’d brought far too much with you.”

“Not enough,” she laughs. “We’ve almost run out.” Her breath huffs out as though she’s exhausted. She probably is, she’d been cooking all morning and then running around.

“As normal, Mel, you’ve outdone yourself.” I rub my stomach as if to show where some of her food went, and that her efforts hadn’t been wasted.

But she’s not here to discuss the spread she helped put on. “Saw you talking to Ink.” Her brows rise. “You getting along with him?”

I shrug. I had been ready to jump into his bed if that means anything, but that I keep to myself. “We were having a decent enough conversation before he was called out.”

“Hmm.” Her sharp eyes flick to me, then move to the doorway which the bikers had so recently disappeared out of. “No idea what that’s all about. But they could return soon. You going to hang around and wait to see if he comes back? To continue your conversation?” She puts the final word in air quotes as if she’s not at all fooled and had known exactly where our talk would have been leading.

Am I that transparent? Or, is Mel just used to living around bikers who are used to easy women.Is that what I am?Suddenly him going out on a job seems a welcome intervention to stop me from making a mistake. Sure, the night with him was worth repeating, but was it worth risking me getting more involved with him? Would it make it harder to walk away at the end of the evening? I purse my lips, thinking how different it is for men, how sex is so much simpler for them, reduced to a bodily function. Today, I’ve seen another side of Ink which has made me like him more.

“He’s not going to want to get involved with me, is he, Mel? I think it's best if I go.”

Her eyes fill with sympathy, and her lips thin. “I wish I could, but I can’t tell you you’re wrong, Beth. These men, honey, they live this life because of the freedom. Some, like Pyro, come to realise in time it’s not everything. But Ink? Whether he will or not in the future, I’m not sure he’s there now.”

I nod. She’s right. Maybe in time a good woman will sweep Ink off his feet, but whether or not I’m that woman, the timing is wrong. I won’t be able to change him. Best not to try.

There’s a scraping of chairs as Steph and Jay join us. Once released from his harness, Max, Steph’s adorable guide dog comes over to me, sniffing at my hands. I let him, realising he’s reacquainting himself with the scent of the woman he met briefly last week. When he’s satisfied, I pat his head, give him a quick scratch behind his ear, then he lies down resting his muzzle on my feet.

“How have you been, Beth? Recovered from last weekend? That was a blast, wasn’t it?”

I shrug, then realise Steph can’t see me. “The wedding was fun,” I tell her, honestly. “I don’t think I stopped laughing all day. My face hurt from smiling.”

“Fun?” Jay lets off a peel of laughter. “I’d say you had fun, girl.” She accompanies her words with an exaggerated wink.

My eyes narrow fast as I glare at her. “What has Ink said?” I ask tightly.

“Uh uh,” Mel gets in quickly. “These men don’t gossip, well, maybe amongst themselves, but definitely not to us. It was kinda hard to miss when Ink dragged you off.” She waves around the table. “We all saw you.”

“I heard.” Steph laughs. “I think Vi’s exclamation and laugh drew everyone’s attention to the two of you.”

“Well?” Vi looks unrepentant. “Beth had scored.”

Well hell, looks like I can’t keep anything private. No point in denying it, though anything other than Ink and I getting it on together is just conjecture. I’m not going to share what a revelation it was. I turn the tables on Mel.

“And what about you?” I add an exaggerated wink. “Pyro taking good care of you?”

She reddens, leading me to believe Pyro’s been very attentive to her needs over the past week, but she like me, she doesn’t elaborate. “Much like it was before we got hitched. I definitely haven’t got any complaints.”

“How’s the pregnancy going?” Jay asks. “Any sickness?”

“Fine at the moment and no, but it’s early days.” Her mouth twists. “We probably shouldn’t have said anything yet, but Ro thought we needed support should things go south.”

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