Page 101 of Sinful Mates

I caught his knee, pressing down. “No, you don’t. Get your ass on my bike, Mr. Vincent. You’ll kick yourself if you miss this and want to kill someone.”

“I know who I want to kill.” Slade’s jaw ground as he flipped Alaric the bird, tied up his bandana, and slid back down.

Moments later, we were on the road, a lone cop vehicle trailing us. Castor warned of their return to duty and an acting superintendent in Knight’s place. Ever since the reckoning, no cops approached us threatening fines, loss of license, or retribution. But they kept up their surveillance. Silence on all channels indicated something was in the works.

We agreed to go about our business. No speeding. No fights. No undue attention shone on the club. No spoiling fucking Christmas as Slade threatened. Anyone that did was a dead man by that declaration alone.

At our destination, I guided my blindfolded man off the bike and into the shop where I untied the knot and let the bandana fall down.

Artwork lined the small parlor’s foyer. Roses, dragons, fairies, skulls.

“You brought me to Dirty Ink?” Slade said.

Yep. The Jackals’ tattoo parlor. Saved from being closed down for hygiene complaints by Castor’s reckoning.

The dimples fired up again. “If you want your face tattooed on my ass, all you had to do was ask, Nurse A.”

I snorted and pressed my forehead to his chest. “I don’t want my face on your sweaty ass when you ride.”

“Why not?” Slade wiggled his hips.

I laughed and hit him, redirecting him back to where he needed to be. “I want some ink. Not just any old ink.” I dragged my nails through his beard, earning a groan. “Something that represents my fiery mate.”

I booked out Benny, the primary artist, all day to get it.

Flames sparked in his eyes. “Your sexy factor just went up, Nurse A.”

I linked our fingers, tugging him behind me as I perused the artwork on the walls. “Got any suggestions?”

Slade came up behind me, sliding both arms around my waist and squeezing. “Property of Slade Vincent.”

“Hard no.”

“Do it and I’ll let Alaric off the hook.”

“Tempting, but no. He’s on his own there.”

Slade chuckled. “You’re a tough negotiator. Alaric’s ass is mine then.”

“In more than one way.” I winked at him and he caught my meaning, giving me a light spank.

“I’ll pound his ass for that picture.” He lowered his voice as Benny emerged from the back room to greet us.

Benny nodded and rubbed his clasped hands. “President. Aaliyah. What’ll it be today?”

Frown lines marred his forehead. Dark circles hovered over his brown eyes. His rumpled hair suggested he speared his hand through it a lot. He wasn’t sleeping much because of protection duty for the trafficked women at the private club. This was one of a few days Slade let him have a day off from guard duty. Not that he would have minded when he was sweet on one of the women, and she him. A warped love story that one. Bit like mine…

Once we finished up for the day, I’d inject him with soothing magick to let him sleep and free some tension.

Slade cut me a hard look for planning this behind his back with one of his men, then his deadly glare went back to Benny. “Ink my woman anywhere other than her arm and I’ll break your face.”

Benny chuckled and folded his darkly-haired arms. “That’ll depend on where your old lady wants her ink.”

Ugh. They were going to face off if I didn’t jump in with a distraction.

Benny got in first with, “I’ll get the whisky ready, Prez,” disappearing into the next room, making himself busy, cranking up the rock and roll.

“What about this?” I dragged my finger along the Jackals’ logo on Slade’s cut, drawing his gaze down.

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