Page 36 of Resist Me (Men of Inked 3)
“Up you go, beautiful,” James said as he scooped me into his arms.
“Leave me here,” I whispered, wishing for the cold tile instead of the heat from his body. “I wanna die.”
“Shh. I’ll make you feel better,” he whispered, feathering kisses against my forehead.
“Don’t even think about sex,” I groaned, lifting my head to look at him.
He wrinkled his brows and smirked. “I’m not an asshole, doll. It wasn’t even a thought in my mind.”
“What’s that poking me in the ass?” I said, laying my head against his chest.
“My dick has a mind of its own.” He laughed, gently placing me in my bed and pulling up the blankets.
I touched his arm, running my fingers along the bandage. “What happened?” I asked, looking up at him.
“Nothing for you to worry about, Izzy. Just a small wound,” he said, cupping his bicep in his hand.
I kicked at the sheets, using all my energy to keep the heat at bay. “I’m so fucking hot. I don’t want blankets,” I whined, moving the sheets off my body and sprawled out stark naked.
“Kinda hard not to think about fucking you when you’re lying like that, Izzy,” James groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.
“Stop looking and make yourself useful.” I closed my eyes and motioned for him to go away.
“What would you like, mistress?” he asked, a lightness in his voice.
“Fetch me something cold, and medicine for my head.” I dismissed him with my hand as the corners of my lips twitched. I wanted to laugh but stayed in character. The playful side of James was something I hadn’t really experienced before, but I sure as fuck liked it.
“How about I grab a giant fan and keep a cool breeze flowing across your skin?”
I opened my eyes, taking in the sight of James standing at the end of my bed, naked as the day he was born, with a smile on his face.
“Leave me in peace. Go fetch my things,” I demanded, throwing my arm across my face to block out the light.
“Right away.”
I moved my arm, making space enough for me to watch him walk away. I giggled softly as his beautifully naked ass strutted toward the door. He looked over his shoulder and winked, catching me peeking at him. I didn’t have the energy, or else I would’ve thrown a pillow at him before he walked out.
I rubbed my face, trying to calm the throbbing in my head. It felt like the drummer from Anthony’s band was inside, banging away on the cymbals.
The bed dipped, and I opened my eyes to see a smiling James staring at my flesh like a rabid dog. “Down, boy,” I teased, pushing myself up on my elbows. “The last thing I’m thinking about is sex.”
“Fuck,” he muttered, handing me the aspirin and water. “It’s all I can think about when I’m around you.”
“Do men ever grow up?” I asked before placing the pills in my mouth and taking a gulp of water.
“I sure as hell fucking hope not.” He took the water from my hand and set it on the nightstand.
Lying back down, I sighed and closed my eyes. His fingertips began to trail a path up my arms, moving gently across my skin. The light touches made goose bumps break out across my body. Shivering, I sucked in a breath as he drew a tiny circle on the space between my breasts.
“James,” I whispered, my breathing altered by his movements. “Why are you here?” I opened my eyes to look at him.
He smiled as he guided the hair away from my face. “You didn’t call me like I’d asked. I was worried, so I jumped in my car and headed over.”
“What if I were with someone?” I asked, biting my lip.
“Wouldn’t have happened,” he said, lying down next to me, resting his head in his hand.
“How do you know?”
He cupped my pussy, gripping it in his hand. “This right here is mine.”
“Actually, it’s attached to me,” I said, smirking at him.
“I thought we’d cleared this shit up already.”
“That you’re a caveman pig? Yes, that we’ve agreed upon.” I laughed, grabbing my head as the pounding made me wince.
“God’s paying you back for those nasty words.” He snorted, increasing his hold on my core. “You agreed to let me back in, and ‘in’ means the entire package. No one else touches what’s mine, especially when it’s attached to your body. It’s the only thing I care about.”
“James, you’re getting all mushy. I don’t do mushy.”
“I know, doll. You like it rough.” He laughed, dragging his hands from between my legs to my thighs. He began to trace small circles down my legs before starting the same path upward.
“Shut the fuck up,” I whispered. “Hey, how did you get in?”
“Broke the door down,” he said matter-of-factly.
“What the fuck? Jesus, you could’ve knocked.”
“Iz, you didn’t hear me bust open the door, so you sure as fuck weren’t going to hear me knock.”
“I’ll get you a key so you don’t have to break any more of my shit.”
He grabbed me by the waist, pulling me against him.
“You’re so fucking hot,” I shrieked, trying to inch away.
He
nuzzled my neck as his hand mindlessly stroked my ribs. “Tell me how you really feel.”
Using the last bit of strength I had, I slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re still a cocky bastard.”
His face grew serious as he looked down at me. “Izzy, I want to tell you that I—”
I covered his lips and shook my head. “Don’t,” I said, swallowing hard, afraid of what he was going to say.
He smirked and spoke against my finger. “I think you should brush your teeth.” He broke into laughter, the entire bed moving under his weight.
I closed my eyes, thankful and a little bit hurt that I’d jumped to the conclusion that he had been about to profess his undying love to me. We weren’t ready, and I sure as fuck could barely think the words, let alone say them. I cared for James. No one fucked me like him. He had the mix of animalistic sexuality that I hadn’t known I’d wanted.
“Fuck off,” I snapped, lashing out at him as I rolled from the bed. “You’re not smelling as fresh as a daisy either.”
“Better than vodka vomit,” he replied, covering his mouth as he laughed.
“Patron,” I said, hanging my head and vowing to never drink tequila again. “He and I go way back.”
“Tortured love affair?” he asked as his eyes followed me in the mirror next to the bathroom door.
“Story of my fucking life,” I said, smiling at him.
He stretched out across the mattress, looking at home in my room. Closing the door, I turned and looked at myself in the mirror. “Fuck,” I muttered, moving my face closer to get a better look at my reflection. Smashing my cheeks, I blinked twice, hoping it was just the alcohol affecting my vision. No such luck. I looked like death. Heavy black bags had formed under my eyes with my mascara smeared all around them, framing them and drawing attention to the nightmare.
I grabbed a washcloth and a bar of soap and washed all evidence of the night before away. Brushing my teeth, I tried not to gag. Toothpaste and vomit didn’t make the task easy. I cupped my hands together to pool water in my palms before bringing it to my mouth and swishing it around.
When I went back into the bedroom, I still felt like shit, but at least I thought I looked better.
“Let’s talk, Izzy.” He patted the mattress next to him and motioned to me with his hand.
I rolled my eyes, pain shooting through my head by the simple movement I’d done a million times. “Now? I’m too sick to talk.”
“It’s the perfect time to talk.”
“Ugh,” I whined, sliding in next to him. “Why?”
“’Cause you aren’t as big of a smartass when you’re like this, and I need you to be serious for a few minutes.”
“Oh boy,” I whispered.
“Just shut it, woman.” He placed his finger over my mouth. “I’ll talk, and you pipe in when you don’t agree.”
“So no talking?” I asked, knowing that wasn’t going to fucking happen.
“If that’s possible,” he said, and laughed.
“Not a fucking chance.”
He rubbed his eyes, trying to hide the smile on his face. “Izzy, I want to give this a shot between you and me.” He paused.
I stared up at him and blinked.
“I know I can be demanding—”
