KING(46)



Because I actually liked having her around.

Somewhere, somehow, my anger towards her had turned to some sort of f*cked-up affection.

Which I had to put a stop to right a f*cking away, because any sort of feelings for her other than contention and lust would only get in the way of the plans I had for her.

She was afraid of me. That much was obvious, but there was a fire there, too, and the more she fought it, the more it turned me on.

The way her body reacted to me told me that there was only so long she could resist the inevitable. The inevitable being me f*cking her until she couldn’t remember her own name.

It’s not like she knew it anyway.

But I did.

An unfamiliar nagging feeling tugged at my gut.

Guilt maybe?

I brushed it off. There wasn’t time to entertain any feelings of guilt. A better opportunity to get Max back was not going to just fall into my lap like this again. And in the meantime, I was going to spend my time with her as I pleased. In her case, that meant doing everything I had to make her warm, wet, and willing.

“Boss-man!” Preppy shouted, bounding into my studio with his pupils dilated, forgetting to blink like he’d just snorted blow by the f*cking truck full.

“What’s up, Prep?” I asked, putting the finishing touches on the tattoo Pup had sketched for me. After I saw it, I needed it on my skin, immediately and permanently and for the life of me I didn’t know why. But after it was done, I felt like a weight was lifted.

“What the f*ck is that?” Preppy asked, pointing to the back of my hand. I wiped off the excess ink and blood and held it up so he could see.

“It’s a tattoo, dumb-ass. Or did you forget what it is I do in this room?”

“I know it’s a tattoo, f*cker. I just wanted to know why you were tattooing yourself right now.”

“You’ve seen me do it a hundred times so what’s the f*cking big deal?” I barked, not liking Preppy’s third degree.

“What exactly is it?” he asked, leaning over my shoulder as I put a layer of plastic wrap over the top.

“It’s nothing. Pup drew it. What exactly is it you wanted?” I hated being short with him, but I wasn’t about to answer questions I myself didn’t exactly know the answers to.

“I came to tell you two things actually. One is that Bear called, and he overheard his dad talking. Isaac’s coming to town. He’s not sure when, just knows he’s coming. Got eyes on him though. He hasn’t left Dallas yet.” The MC had a long-standing relationship with our former primary source of weed.

“And?”

“AND I’m pretty sure he’s probably a little pissed the f*ck off that we cut him out as our supplier.”

“I was locked up, and he didn’t want to deal with anyone but me. If he expected us to just do nothing until I got out, that was his mistake. We saw opportunity. We seized it. End of story.”

“Yeah man, that’s the way you and I see it. But Bear overheard his dad saying that Issac sees it more like a kick to his balls that he wants to pay back to us a thousand times over.”

“I’m not hiding from Isaac, or anyone else. If he wants to talk to me, he knows where the f*ck I live. Now, what’s the other thing you wanted to tell me?” I snapped.

“Dude, you’re so f*cking moody since you got out. You’re like a bitch on the rag twenty-four hours a day. The second thing I wanted to tell you is that I’m going to take Doe out on a date Saturday night.”

“You’re going to f*cking WHAT?” I suddenly wished my tattoo gun was a real one because with that one sentence, Preppy was walking into dangerous f*cking territory.

“She’s cool as shit, so I’m going to take her out. Maybe, a movie or something. The drive-in is playing some scary paranormal thing, and chicks f*cking love that shit. Makes ’em all cuddly,” Preppy said, hugging himself with his arms.

“Like f*ck you are.” Not only was he not taking her out, I got the impression that scary wasn’t exactly Doe’s favorite genre. The girl’s been scared enough in real life.

“Dude, I’m not going to f*ck her. Unless that’s cool with you. In which case, I will most definitely f*ck her.”

I stood from my stool. It rolled back and crashed against the wall. “Not. A Fucking. Chance.” The thought of his hands on her made my stomach twist.

“You don’t even like her,” he barked. “Besides, you don’t know anything about her. And that’s your fault because she may not know a lot about herself, but the little she does know you haven’t even bothered to ask her about.”

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