Inked (Going All the Way 1)

She glanced up at him and then looked at his erection that made this massive bulge at the crotch of his pants.

“I only have to look at you and I’m hard as steel.”

A tingle settled between her thighs, but she pushed the need to go to him and let him pound the hell out of her—because the look on his face told her that was exactly what he wanted to do to her. They needed to talk about this.

“And we do need to talk, but when I look at you…” When he lowered his eyes down the length of her body and brought them back up, Stella had to force herself not to be the one to jump him. “I can’t control myself. It may have only been two days, but Stella, fucking hell was it painful not being with you.”

Her heart thundered in her chest. Never had anyone spoken to her so passionately, but she could tell in his voice that he wasn’t just talking about sex. “Me too, but I want to talk about what we did, and what will—”

“Happen?”

She nodded when he finished her sentence. “Yeah. I mean…” She sighed and looked at her feet. “I just want to know if what you said back at the shop was true.” She forced herself to look in his face, even though she felt way out of her element right now. She had never had a conversation like this before, had never needed to. Having sex with Cadeon—to her at least—wasn’t just something to pass the time. Of course there had been this voice inside her that said he was much older, more experienced, and that being with him didn’t mean she was in any kind of relationship.

Then there was the situation with his connection with the Vicious Bastards, and how if something more was to come out of them having sex, how in the hell was she supposed to tell her father and the guys? Surely, they would be overly protective, like they always were, and she really didn’t want to have to explain herself or her feelings. But that was a necessary evil, and she just hoped that once they knew how she felt, they would respect her feelings for Cadeon and not kick his ass. But she was jumping the gun, because first they had to have this conversation.

“Come on, let’s sit down.” He turned and faced the living room. When he looked at her over his shoulder and pointed to the couch, she nodded.

She followed him, and when they were both seated side by side, there was a moment of silence.

“How about I start?”

“Okay.” She turned her body so they could stare at each other when they spoke and waited for him to say whatever it was he was going to say.

“I’ve never done this before.” He leaned back, placed an arm over the back of the couch, and spread his legs slightly so he took on this relaxed position.

“Done what? Have a conversation?” Stella was trying to go for a less weird vibe by teasing a little, because honestly she had never been in a situation like this either, but Cadeon didn’t even crack a smile. “I’ve never had to talk about something like this either.”

He didn’t respond for several seconds, and she shifted on the couch as the awkwardness intensified. Should she say something else or wait?

“You know what your dad and the Vicious Bastards would do to me if they knew I fucked you?” He said that sentence with absolutely no emotion, and her mouth dried and her throat suddenly started to swell shut. “I’ll tell you what they’d do.” Again, a moment of silence, and she wondered if he was going for some kind of shock value or if he actually wanted her to answer. “They’d beat the living shit out of me, and when they stopped for a second to allow me to catch my breath, they would bring out the crowbars and chains.” He stared her right in the eye.

“I have grown up with those men, and yes, they are dangerous and can live up to their club’s name, but I also know they want me to be happy.” Her father’s MC wasn’t just called the Vicious Bastards because it sounded intimidating, but because they were exactly that. She might never have been in the thick of the violence, because her father had made sure to always keep her away, protected and ignorant, but she knew.

She had seen them come back to the clubhouse many times over, some with gunshot wounds, others with busted faces. She had even seen them carrying a fallen member. But she never asked what happened, never pried into “club business.”

“Yeah, they want you to be happy, Stella, but I’m just some asshole who took something that I shouldn’t have. That doesn’t go over very well with them.”