Page 112 of First Chance

Only, my attention is drawn to the dip between her hip and lower abdomen, and the tiny, almost invisible, outline of a heart. No bigger than the tip of my pinky.

“You have a tattoo.”

“Barely,” she breathes out.

“Who the fuck touched you, here?”

I glance up at the moonlight casting a halo of light around her face, and watch the shy smile stretch across her cheeks.

“I was invited to a brand event two years ago. A tattoo artist was there, providing their services as a party favor.Shewas very gentle.”

I kiss the ink.

“I’ll be gentle, too,” I whisper against her as my fingers grip her panties once more, continuing their journey.

“Don’t be.” She gasps when I kiss her bare mound then again when I kiss the very top of her clit, letting her tiny threaded bow dictate my path downward.

My tongue is teased with the taste of her until I’m suddenly jerking away and jumping to my feet as a loud crash assaults our haven on the porch.

The gate explodes wide, slamming into the fence on either side as a truck comes barreling through.

It skids to a stop, illuminating the house and the porch where we stand, but reverses within the same second, tires spinning as they retreat.

“Dammit!” My arms flex protectively around Jo as she buries her face in my chest. “Get inside, baby.”

She doesn’t move, and I kiss the top of her head, “Get inside. Call Hayes.”

“Where are you going?”

“After them.”

* * *

The Bronco’s engine roars as I speed down the mountain and after the shit box truck. They probably weren’t expecting anyone to be home, or for anyone to come after them, but they did get a good head start. Just not enough of one.

I’m not letting this fucker get away.

My tires barrel down the road, barely seeing the faint glow of their red taillights ahead of me. There’s only one reason to brake at this point down the mountain, and that’s to go into the carryout.

I floor it, skidding to a stop near the gas pumps when I see Frank, the dickhead, step out of his truck. He’s the only person in the parking lot, the only person who could have come from my property.

My foot punches the gas, and he’s a deer in headlights watching me accelerate towards him.

My engine jets forward, barely stopping in time to merely pin him between my truck and his.

His hands are up, but his feet shuffle away from my bumper as I slam my door.

“You’ve been attacking my home!” I lunge for him, dragging him across the hood of the truck.

“No, no! It wasn’t me!”

I toss him to the ground and regain myself. Beating him to a pulp won’t get me anywhere. The clone of Jo sitting on my shoulder is keeping me from letting loose.

“You just destroyed my gate!”

He starts kicking his legs to scoot away from me, but I stomp on his shin to keep him immobile. “Fuck you!” Heyelps.

“I gave you an opportunity to get back on your feet, and this is how you repay me? Men beg for a shot like this when they get out of prison!”

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