“You’re just as exhausted as me, Naggie baby.” He didn’t phrase it like a question and didn’t stop touching her.
“Yes, that happens when someone fucks me like a damn madman.” She smiled and shifted so she was now facing him on her side. He was smiling too, and that small, almost sleepy grin looked really good on him.
“What does this mean?” he asked, his focus on her side again. He started tracing the words of her tattoo.
“Exactly what it says.” She smiled again, not being a smart ass.
“You know what I mean.” He flashed her this shit-eating grin, all straight white teeth and a face so manly with his trimmed, scruffy beard, and dark longer hair framing his face.
Yeah, she did know what he meant. Although she didn’t mind telling the story of her ink, this conversation seemed very intimate in a way that had nothing to do with the fact that they had just had sex or that this was a one-night stand.
10
Naggie shifted so she was now on her back, and even though she was naked, she wasn’t self-conscious over her nudity, had never been. Booshie pulled the sheet up so that it covered both their lower halves.
“Big, hardened, but with a compassionate side.” She smiled. She had kept her arm above her head so he could still touch her side tattoo and because she liked how it felt having him stroke her softly.
Naggie stared at her ink and moved her gaze along the same lines he was currently running his fingers over.
“Have No Regrets Over the Mistakes You’ve Made” had been one of her very first tattoos, and was one of the most cherished on her body. She loved all her ink, but that particular one defined her life and who she was.
“I guess it’s just something I live by, and I wanted it permanently on my body to always remind me that I’m only human.” She lifted her gaze to his face, and for a second all they did was stare at each other.
She was so used to seeing him with a bandana on that his dark chin-length hair free was a little different but in a good way. His face was so masculine and his jaw so square. Without thinking, she lifted her hand and ran her fingers over the tips of his hair and then moved them along his scruff-covered cheek.
He captured her hand with his and pressed her palm to his cheek. When he leaned forward and took her mouth with his, she might have thought he’d kiss her to start something hot and deep again, but he barely brushed his mouth along hers, and before she knew it, he was pulling away from her.
“Have you made a lot of mistakes in life?” He pushed away a stray piece of hair that fell across her forehead.
“Haven’t we all?” It was a rhetorical question, because like she said, they were all only human.
“I know I’ve done some shit that makes my skin crawl.” He rolled onto his back and lifted his arms up to put his hands behind his head. He stared at the ceiling for a while, and it was clear he was thinking about something hard. “You’re different from the other women I’ve been with.” He turned just his head and stared at her. His eyes looked so dark.
“You’re different from the other men I’ve been with.” She smiled after she said it, but he kept a stoic expression. Before she could even comprehend what he was doing, he had his hands wrapped around her waist and had her hauled up and over him.
Now straddling his narrow hips, Naggie braced her hands on his firm pecs and stared at all the ink he had. Like her, he had full-sleeve tattoos, but he also had the patch logo of his MC inked into one of his smooth pecs. She knew all the men in his club had the same tattoo. She had seen the president, Scars, had one on his shoulder blade when she picked up Stella at the clubhouse one day.
Scars was not the typical father figure who resided in Reckless, but Naggie knew he was one protective man when it came to his daughter. That was something she’d never had, and as depressing as that was to think about, it was her life, and she didn’t dwell on the negative shit.
“Does it scare you if I said I don’t like thinking of you with other men?” Booshie asked and pushed up enough that he could smooth his hands over her arms, along her shoulders, and cupped either side of her neck.
Naggie didn’t say anything for a moment as she processed what he had just said. She didn’t twist his statement into thinking he wanted a relationship with her, because obviously it was too soon for any of that, on her end as well.
“Strangely, no.” She started moving her palms over the skulls that were entwined with black roses and chains tattooed on his thick bicep, moved her hand along his pec that had his MC logo on it, and then stilled to look in his eyes. “You have just as much ink as me,” she said, changing the subject.
Naggie took his hands that were still framing her neck and pushed them down her body so he could be the one who now cupped her breasts. “Does that turn you off, that I actually kind of like the idea you’re all possessive?”
He started squeezing her flesh but didn’t verbally answer. Instead, he shook his head. She looked at his patch tattoo again, traced the skull in the center with the flames that surrounded it, and felt arousal building in the center of her body once more. The top rocker read Vicious Bastards, while the bottom rocker said Reckless.
A man with a lot of ink had also been one of her sexual preferences, but she
