Page 3 of Without Me (Men of Inked 5)
“Kitty, throw me a bone here, woman. I’ve never had to try so hard before. Really, why do you hate me?”
“I don’t hate you. I just don’t have time for you, Tony.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You’re too busy with your career to fit me in?”
“I don’t have time in my life in general to fit you in. I don’t need the complication in my life. I have enough shit to deal with to listen to your bullshit for more than ten minutes. Life is too short to waste on relationships and men.”
“Whoa. Wait a minute. I never said anything about a relationship. Maybe we can be friends?”
“Not going to happen.”
“Why not?” I asked. I mean, what the fuck? Why couldn’t we be friends? In my version of friendship, I’d have her out of her panties, which I was sure were lace, in less than thirty minutes.
“I have enough friends. I don’t need more.”
“Everybody could use more friends.”
“I’m sure Candy could use one right now,” she sneered.
“Fuck Candy.”
“You have.” She burst into laughter again.
“Smartass,” I growled.
I brushed my fingertips down the top of her arm. Her skin did feel like silk. My eyes hadn’t betrayed me. Now that my hands were satisfied, I wanted to run my tongue along it and see if it tasted as I had imagined. It had to. It fucking had to.
“What are you doing?” she asked as she looked down at my hand, which was still touching hers as goose bumps covered her skin.
“Confirming something.”
“And that would be?”
“Seeing if you felt it too.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
As my hand moved back up her arm, I grazed her breast. She sucked in a breath. I had her. She could deny it all she wanted, but she wanted me. All the sass and bullshit coming out of her mouth was just talk. Her body couldn’t hide what she truly felt.
“Kitty,” I whispered, moving my face closer to hers. “Tell me you don’t feel it.”
“I don’t,” she replied, her eyes growing wider the closer I got.
“You don’t?” I asked as I hovered over her lips.
“I don’t.”
I gave her a quick kiss.
“And this?” I asked as I gave her another peck. “Or that?”
The third time I placed my lips on hers, I kept them there. Her breathing changed as her mouth molded to mine. After sliding my hand up her arm, I held her neck and swiped my thumb along her jaw line.
The taste of the alcohol on her lips mixed with her gloss made my mouth water. Maybe it was all in my head, but I wanted her more than I had ever wanted another thing in my life. I licked at the seam of her lips as she kissed me, begging for entrance. Surprisingly, she accepted, parting her lips and allowing entry.
The tiny victory made me happy. Out of all of my previous conquests, none of them had given me a greater sense of satisfaction than that moment with Kitty.
When she finally touched me, resting her hand on my forearm, I felt the spark ignite something inside me. The kiss had sizzled, but another connection, her reciprocating my touch, caused a detonation of tiny shocks across my entire body.
I had to have her.
I wouldn’t accept no for an answer.
Nothing would make me stop until I had her at least once.
As she squeezed my arm, my cock roared to life. The ache grew unbearable with each swipe of my tongue and her grip on my arm. When I finally pulled my mouth away from hers, she whispered, “Fuck.”
My work here was done. Even though she thought I was an asshole, she felt it too. She couldn’t deny it any longer. Her mouth could move, but she’d be feeding me lines of bullshit.
“You felt it.” I smiled, keeping my hand on her neck.
She didn’t try to detach herself from me as her eyes fluttered open and she looked at me—really looked at me. For the first time tonight, her eyes were soft.
“I can’t,” she replied, and averted her eyes.
“Kitty, you can’t say that after what you just felt, what I just felt.” I shook my head, tightening my grip on her neck. “I’ve never experienced that before with anyone. You can’t shut me out.”
Her hand moved away from my arm like I had just burned her. “I just can’t.” She pushed on my chest with both hands, trying to put distance between us.
“Why not?” I asked, ready to argue the point. I wasn’t going to allow her to give up that easily.
“Let me go,” she demanded, shoving me away.
“Kitty,” I begged, trying to keep our connection. “Please.”
“Get your hands off my damn sister!” a deep voice yelled from behind her.
I froze and peered over her shoulder. Fuck. Just what I didn’t need. A brother. A big brother. A brother brother. Not like “hey, man, this is my brother,” but “hey, this is my big-ass brother and he’s going to kick your white-boy ass.”
Goddamn it.
“I’m not going to say it again. Get your hands off Maxine. She asked you nicely to let her go, but I’m not going to be so damn kind.”
“Maxine?” I asked, finally learning her name, although it wasn’t the way I had wanted to hear it.
“Please let me go,” she insisted with tears in her eyes.
I stared at her, not liking that I had caused her distress. “Okay, man, but only because she asked and not you.” I released my hand, letting her move away.
She scurried out of my reach.
“Let’s get you home, Max,” he said to her.
Max. She had a tough name. It fit her perfectly. This couldn’t be the end. I didn’t want it to be. There was no way in hell I’d let her out of here without at least getting her phone number.
“Max,” I said, holding out my hand to her. “See me again?”
Before she could answer, her brother stepped between us. He was at least six inches taller than I was. He was a beast. He’d give any of my brothers a run for their money, but I’d never been a pussy. I never backed down from a fight. Hell, I’d thrown punches over small shit. Max was worth the risk.
“She doesn’t want anything to do with you,” he stated as he stared down at me.
“I think she can answer for herself,” I replied, moving into his personal space.
“Denzel,” she said, placing her hand on his arm. “Let’s just go.”
“Wait!” I yelled, not ready to say goodbye.
“Come on, Max. This fool isn’t worth your time and I don’t feel like spending the night in jail again for assault.”
Fuck me.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was a Gallo. Although I wanted to fight him just to show that I was worthy, I knew it wasn’t the way. If some dickhead was fucking with Izzy, getting in a fistfight with any of my brothers wasn’t the way to win her heart. I couldn’t let my temper and need for her cloud my judgment.
“I’m ready,” she said as she reached for her purse.
I clenched my hands at my sides, and it took everything in me not to reach out to her.
Without another word, Max and Denzel turned and headed for the door.
“Turn and look at me,” I repeated over and over as I watched her stroll toward the exit. I held my breath, waiting for it.
Before she disappeared through the doorway, she turned and gave me one quick glance before vanishing in the shadow of her brother.
I sucked in a breath, feeling like I’d been hit by a ton of bricks. Never in my life had I experienced something so powerful. To have it ripped away from me so fast and without any warning hurt like hell.
This wasn’t the end.
It couldn’t be.
I wouldn’t give up on finding her again.
I needed to know her.
I craved her.
The feel of her skin, the way her mouth tasted—they’d left me wanting more. And I never gave up on something I wanted. Not without a fight.
/> 2
Evade and Capture
I spent the next two Friday nights at the Ritz hoping to run into Max. Instead, I ran into Candy.
Again, I explained to her that I wasn’t interested. If Maxine walked in and saw me with Candy, everything would be shot to hell. Candy was a persistent little thing, but I did my best to rid myself of her.
On the third Friday night, I finished my drink and headed for the door. It was another night wasted, ending in failure. Tucking my hands in my pockets, I walked down the sidewalk toward the parking garage. Ybor City was busier than normal tonight. People lined the streets, filling the tiny café tables outside. The lights over the street twinkled, and there was energy to the area I’d often missed after a night of playing a gig. Usually, by the time I walked out of the Ritz, the only thing I cared about was getting home. I didn’t stop to take in my surroundings.
As I walked by the Corona King, something made me stop. When I turned toward the tables, I saw her.
Maxine was sitting toward the back, near the doors, nursing a beer. She didn’t see me as she was typing on her phone, oblivious to the world.
Staying out of her line of sight, I walked the outside edge of the tables and headed straight for her. It might have been my only chance to talk to her again. I wasn’t going to let it slip past me.
She didn’t notice my approach or that I stood behind her, watching her movements. Tonight, she wasn’t wearing a T-shirt—she had opted for jeans, heels, and a white off-the-shoulder top with lace sleeves. Her black, pin-straight hair was pulled back into a low ponytail that trailed down her back. She simply looked stunning, more beautiful than I remembered.
“Is this seat taken?”
Her body stilled, the furious typing on her screen ceasing. “It’s taken,” she replied without even a glance.
“What about the other two chairs at the table?” I wouldn’t give up that easily. I knew stubborn women, and eventually, I could wear away their steely veneer.
“Those are too.” She started to type on her phone again, pretending I wasn’t there.
“When your friends get here, I’ll get up,” I said as I pulled out the chair and made myself comfortable.
