Page 28 of War's Witch
Thirteen
CLEO
I am in my happy place. I am at Rugged Ink, not thinking about the dark sexy biker who fucked me so hard months ago that he left a mark on my soul. Or the same sexy biker who turned up on my front door two nights ago and explained some deep heartbreaking things to me, then fucked me stupid on my sofa.
Nope, I am in my happy place.
Shit, he slipped through my defenses again.
Damn that biker.
When he told me that Lilian had been his wife and that she died, my heart broke for him. No person should lose the love of their life.
Him and his story have stuck with me for months, and I thought that the memory of him would fade, but it is like he creeps into my mind every day. Stupid little things remind me of him.
I also keep finding black feathers in my front yard, whichtakes me back to his room in Vegas because he had one on his bedside table.
The door chiming brings me out of my thoughts. I look up and my heart stutters in my chest, my nipples tingle from remembering what his mouth did to them, and my pussy joins in the gushing over War parade.
“What do you want, War?”
With a sexy smirk on his face, he leans on the front desk, bringing him closer to me. His sandalwood and vanilla scent hits me and I fight back a whimper.
“Wanted to come and see where my girl works.”
I roll my eyes. “I am not your girl, so if you are not planning on getting a tattoo, then you need to leave,” I inform him.
“Nah, baby, I don’t think I do. I am here for you and you alone, unless you want to tattoo your name on my dick.” He winks. “I told you that I am not going anywhere. You are mine, baby.”
“You are infuriating, do you know that?” He nods and winks.
“Yep.” He pops the ‘p.’ “I am going to sit over here watching you work, and then I am going to take you to dinner after you are done for the day.”
“A date? Really?” I quiz.
I fold my arms across my chest, which I regret instantly because it makes my breasts push up more in my black camisole.
“Sure, why not? A man should take his woman out on dates; we can get to know each other better. Women like dates, right?”
“We are not dating, War.”
“Mason,” he hisses, but I see no anger in his eyes.
“War, we are not dating. Like I said the other night, we had fun, both times, but I am too fucked up with my own issues tobe in a committed relationship, and if I am being honest, after what I witnessed back in Vegas, I think you are still hung up on your wife. Sorry.”
His eyes harden, his lips thin, and the one fist I can see bunches tightly.
With a stiff nod, he steps away from the counter and sits on the brown leather sofa, resting one ankle on the opposite knee as he spreads his arms out across the back and stares at me.
I can tell that I pissed him off, but there is nothing I can do as the door opens and one of my favorite people steps inside.
He greets Victor, who walks toward us, then turns to face me, all while I ignore the hot man sitting across from me.
“What can we do for you, Target?” I greet Target, who in his own right is freaking hot.
“Hey, beautiful.” I get my usual greeting from him.
A deep growl comes from my biker. Shit no, not my biker.
