Dirty Sexy Inked (Dirty Sexy 2)

Her childhood had been lousy and filled with emotional upheaval, with parents who had never truly loved each other—or her. Her father had filed for divorce when Katrina was thirteen and moved on with the woman he’d been having an affair with for the past few years, and had never looked back or stayed in touch with Katrina. At such a young age, she’d felt so alone and abandoned, especially when her mother had turned around and married the first man who showed her any interest—an auto mechanic who made Katrina feel uneasy from the day she’d met him. And she’d quickly learned why.

While her mother had worked the evening shift as a clerk at a convenience store, Katrina was left alone with her new stepfather, and it didn’t take Owen long to show his true colors. He was intimidating in size, verbally abusive in a crude way, and made inappropriate sexual remarks that made her skin crawl. At thirteen, she’d been an early bloomer, and he’d blatantly leer at her breasts, which were hard to conceal during the summertime in ninety-degree heat and humidity. He’d deliberately brush up against her in ways that would accidentally cause him to improperly touch her—his word, not hers—so she’d always lock herself in her room and make herself scarce until her mother got home.

The anxiety of being alone with Owen had escalated to the point that she’d finally told her mother what was happening, confiding in the one person she thought she could trust, who would believe her and make her feel safe. Instead, her mother had been skeptical, and when Carol Sands had reluctantly asked Owen about his behavior, the prick had turned everything around and told Carol that it was Katrina who was coming on to him. Her mother, who’d always been insecure when it came to men, had opted to believe Owen, and punished Katrina instead.

She’d been devastated, and even now Katrina felt that awful, sickening feeling in her stomach when she remembered the smug look on Owen’s face, along with knowing her own mother had sealed Katrina’s fate.

One night a few weeks later, Owen had been drinking, and when Katrina had quietly made her way to the kitchen for something to eat, he’d come up behind her and trapped her against the counter. And that’s when all her fears had become a horrific reality. In the next instant, he had one

hand squeezing hard on her breast and the other shoved between her legs while calling her a whore, slut, and tramp, and informing her she’d asked for this.

Katrina shuddered at the terrifying memory as she instinctively crossed her arms over her chest in the shower, letting the stream of water hit her shoulders and cascade down the rest of her body. At almost fourteen, she hadn’t been that strong, but with Owen’s reflexes not as quick from the alcohol he’d consumed, she’d managed to turn around to face him. When his hands went to the button on her shorts, she’d kneed him in the groin with every bit of strength she possessed, and he’d dropped to his knees in pain.

She hadn’t stuck around to see what would happen next. She’d bolted out the front door and run in her bare feet down the street to a park—and had stayed there until morning, when she knew that Owen had gone to work. Her mother hadn’t even known that she was gone all night, and even though Katrina had felt violated and traumatized, she’d never said anything to her mother. Why bother when she wouldn’t believe her, anyway?

Her self-mutilation had begun after that attack. Angry and hurting deep inside, she’d cut all along her left arm, from her shoulder to her wrist—a series of deep lacerations that had provided her only outlet for the emotional misery. The physical anguish of slicing her skin and watching her wound bleed had been a satisfying distraction to her internal torment. It had been her way to escape reality, and to be in control of what kind of pain she felt, when she couldn’t control what might happen beyond her locked bedroom door. No, she hadn’t understood her actions then, but she did now.

Those were the scars that Mason knew about, the ones created before a gym teacher at school had seen them and gotten her the help she needed to control those destructive urges. The multitude of slice marks along the side of her left hip, however, was a result of a different attack that Mason had no idea had ever happened.

She’d never been able to bring herself to confide in him that one of his friends had raped her. Her humiliation and shame had been too overwhelming, and she’d once again resorted to cutting to escape the pain. Luckily, she’d realized her pattern of behavior and sought help once again, but those scars were now a physical and permanent reminder of why she tended to be wary of certain types of men.

She’d been in the shower long enough, lost in her dark thoughts, and the water had turned lukewarm. Not wanting to think about the depressing past any longer, Katrina focused on washing and conditioning her hair, then scrubbing her body clean. Once she was out of the shower and dried off, she slipped on a pair of panties and her favorite well-worn sleep shirt that was soft and comfy. Fatigued after the long day of travel, spa time, and her encounter with Mason, she crawled into bed, determined to get a good night’s sleep. She was definitely exhausted enough.

Letting her tired body sink into the mattress, she closed her eyes and turned her mind to tomorrow’s wedding, determined to make sure that it was an amazing day for Samantha and Clay. Which meant she needed to act as though everything between her and Mason was normal, that the best sex of her life had never happened, and they were still the best of friends.

And that meant putting on a bright smile, locking away the jumbled mess of emotions churning inside of her, and showing Mason that she was fully capable of moving on after their one-night stand. Just as easily as he could.

Chapter Five

“How long are we going to avoid the huge elephant in the room?”

After nearly two hours in Samantha’s suite having brunch and now getting their hair and makeup done for the upcoming ceremony, Katrina wasn’t at all shocked when Tara finally alluded to last night’s confrontation at Coyote Ugly between her and Mason. She was surprised, however, that it had taken her direct and outspoken friend this long to say something.

Katrina suspected Tara had held back out of respect for Samantha and making sure the bride-to-be was the center of attention for the first few hours. But now that they were all sitting in a semicircle in the suite’s living room, with three hair stylists working on their elegant updos, Tara was obviously ready to push for answers.

“I’m dying to know what happened after the two of you left!” Samantha chimed in, her eyes bright and eager for details. “I can’t believe he actually threw you over his shoulder and carried you out of the place like that.”

Both women looked amused over Mason’s actions, and Katrina tried to keep the story as light as possible without going into those nitty-gritty and dirty details of how that confrontation had ended. “He thought I was drunk and he was trying to save me from myself.” She rolled her eyes for emphasis.

Tara snickered, her eyes sparkling with obvious humor. “It didn’t appear that way from what Levi and I saw. Mason looked like he was clearly staking a claim on you so none of those other men crowded around the bar had a chance.”

“I have to agree,” Samantha said as her stylist began pinning all her loose curls into an intricate design at the nape of her neck. “Why do you think Clay tried to step in?”

“Because his brother is a jerk-off?” Katrina suggested sarcastically, causing her own stylist to laugh softly from behind her.

“Mason isn’t that bad,” Samantha said, defending her soon-to-be brother-in-law, clearly having developed a soft spot for him. “I just think that he’s very attracted to you, despite you two being friends, and he’s frustrated because he wants something that he knows he shouldn’t touch. But he doesn’t want anyone else to touch you, either.”

Oh, Mason had touched her plenty last night, in ways that made her face warm when she thought about just how skillful those fingers of his were as they’d gripped her hair and slid down between her thighs . . .

“Oh, my God, you’re blushing,” Tara said, calling her out, her tone almost gleeful. “Did you and Mason do the dirty last night?”

Much to her dismay, the flush on her cheeks heated even more. “No!” The last thing she wanted was her tryst with Mason becoming common knowledge when it would never happen again. And she definitely didn’t want to be known as one of his many conquests, which would put an additional strain on their friendship.

“I think thou protest too much,” Tara teased, much too accurately.

“Leave her alone, Tara,” Samantha said gently, her gaze so sweet and kind and understanding. “Whatever happened between Katrina and Mason really isn’t any of our business unless she wants it to be.”

Katrina smiled at Samantha, grateful for her refined upbringing and how aware and considerate she was of Katrina’s discomfort. Samantha might not live in her parent’s mansion any longer, or even spend much time with them in her old upper-class social circle, but Clay’s bride-to-be still maintained those courteous manners that were such an ingrained part of her. Which was what made her so likeable.