Page 113 of Ice
“My body is yours, Ice, and I fully expect you to take advantage of that once we’re inked. No matter how much I fight and protest.”
He rested his forehead against mine.
“Don’t give me a boner right now, you twisted little vixen. Rocket doesn’t need to have that waving in his face as he works on me.”
He led me back to the chair, and I sat down, helping Has-Been to elevate my leg and angle myself so he could tattoo my upper thigh. Ice was bare chested, with the other guy applying his tattoo on his left pec. He reached over to grasp my hand, and watched me the whole damn time they were working, looking like he didn’t feel a damn thing, while I winced, and whimpered, and tried deep breathing to cope with mine.
Has-Been was doing a beautiful job, and kept offering to let me take breaks, but I wanted it done. He smeared something over the burning patch on my thigh once he’d finished. The tattoo itself was about four inches square, and was beautiful. As well as the wording, ‘Property of Ice’, there was a club logo, and he’d incorporated shards of ice around it, to tie it in to his name.
Ice’s tattoo was bigger, and declared my name in big letters with the words ‘old lady’ underneath, and the club logo.
“Congrats, you guys! Let’s raise another drink to the happy couple,” Ryder yelled, as they all raised probably their eighth or ninth damn drink in our honour. As Ice helped me up from the chair, crouching down to admire my tattoo, I glanced around the room, and noticed two people were missing. Reacher. And his old lady. Or rather, the woman his club had refused to allow to be one.
Ice stood up, and dragged me into the kind of kiss that told me exactly what he wanted to do to me, and the room was filled with all kinds of hooting sounds and cheers. Then someone yelled ‘get a room’, and Ice moved his lips to my ear.
“I’m desperate to be inside you, Lissa. I gotta overwrite Has’s touch. You’re mine, get it?”
I nodded, nuzzling his neck, before I sank my teeth into his flesh, making him utter a sharp curse.
“Fuck this.” He grabbed my hand, and started walking, waving as he walked past his inebriated brothers.
“Have funnnn!”
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“That doesn’t rule out a damn thing, man.”
“What’s your point?”
I didn’t know who was speaking, but it didn’t matter. Ice wanted to ‘claim me’ again, and I couldn’t wait.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he grabbed my hair, and pulled my face to his.
“You have until the count of ten, and then I’ll hunt you down, and fuck you into a coma, got it?”
Fifty-Four
Thewayhereyeslit up when I spoke, I knew she was already fucking plotting her escape. And by escape, I mean, she’d pretend to get away, but she’d let me catch her, because she wanted to be fucked. And me? I was on cloud fucking nine. She was mine, unequivocally mine, indisputably mine. She wore my fucking name now, and everyone knew not to fucking touch her because she was mine.
“Catch me if you can!” She let out a giggle and ran down the hallway, up the stairs, and out of sight. I grinned, because there weren’t many places to go up there. Each room had a name plate or something to identify whose room it was, and she wouldn’t dare hide in a brother’s room… or would she? Would she expect me not to check there? The thought of her in anyone else’s bedroom had me abandoning the idea of counting, and running after her.
Huh… she wasn’t hiding anywhere. She was staring at a picture on the wall, and she looked confused. Her posture had changed, and she was intently focused on what she was lookingat. Suddenly I wasn’t prowling or hunting her, I was worried. I joined her at the wall, and she pointed to the former club president.
“Who’s that?”
It was the last thing I wanted to talk about right now, but I indulged her for a moment. I really fucking hoped it wouldn’t take any longer than that.
“That’s the old club president, Dagger. His real name was Leif something or other, but I never met him. I joined the club after Reacher and Stitch had taken over. My understanding is that he was a really bad dude.”
She chewed her lip, running her forefinger over his picture.
“And where is he now?”
Jesus, who the fuck cares?
“Dead, darlin’. Now are you gonna get on with this shit? I’m kinda planning to rail you into the fucking ground, and you’re just standing there? I have no problem with public sex, babe, but you don’t want my brothers watching. They’d probably offer hints and stuff.”
She sighed, turning away from the picture, and placing a hand on my arm.
