Chapter 15
15
Anchor
I whistle as I gently sketch the curve of my wife’s nose, then go over the plump of her lips, my mind fully on her when, really, I should be working on sketching the back piece a client wants, but I can’t fucking focus on anything but my wife.
I need her like I need my next breath.
Since our date four days ago, where, yes, I purposely slipped and fell down the lane at the bowling alley, my head hitting the pins just to make her laugh like I did all those years ago, she’s been a little more open with me.
The odd kiss here, the hug from behind when I’m washing the pots, the secret smiles every now and again when she doesn’t think I’m looking, like she did years ago.
The little things I had no idea I missed so fucking much, the things that showed me how much she loved me on a daily basis, things that I overlooked.
“Dude, why do you keep fucking whistling?” an agitated Bulldozer shouts from across my room at Huntsmen Art, and I snort, not answering him. Instead, I continue to whistle, but louder.
I feel like I’m slowly getting my wife back. The look of betrayal and hate is no longer shining in her beautiful ice blue eyes; instead, it's hope and love, and I can’t help but be happy right now.
“Fuck, I should have suggested couples therapy years ago,” I mutter with frustration at myself for not thinking of it as I throw the notepad to the side where all my tattooing inks are. I sigh as I stretch.
“The fucker’s getting laid, Bulldozer. Why else would he whistle, especially when he doesn’t fuck the clubwhores,” I hear Art say loudly from down the hall, and I roll my eyes as Bulldozer replies, “I don’t give a shit; his whistling is fucking annoying, even if he has stopped for a moment.”
I hear Art chuckle, then say, “I’m off to the diner for some grub, you in?”
“Fuck yeah,” Bulldozer replies, “anything to get away from the whistling and humming. I swear I don’t know what has gotten into him, but it’s fucking annoying.”
“Maybe it’s whoever he keeps texting,” Art says, his voice getting quieter, and I grin at the two chatterboxes and lean my head back toward the door to see Bulldozer, the large fucker, rush past, throwing me the middle finger in the process.
“Fucker,” I chuckle and stand.
I need to get on with this piece before my client comes in next week, and it needs to be fucking perfect.
I grab my digital sketch pad and turn it on but frown when I hear Cazza at the front desk shout, “You can’t go back there,” and I quickly put my pad down and rush out of my room, expecting some big fucker trying to harass her. Still, as soon as I enter the front desk, I scowl, recognizing that fucking banker Heaven dated a few months back, and when I say dated, I mean they went out once, and she allowed Micha to call her home from the date, just like she had with all the others except once when she messaged me an SOS.
“Can I help you?” I raise a brow and ask as I look him up and down in his khakis and sweater vest, looking out of fucking place in the black and red room full of artwork that myself, Bulldozer, and Art have done.
Fuck, when my wife said she only dated men the opposite of me, she wasn’t fucking lying. Short, thinning blonde hair, and a little bit of a beer gut.
“Yeah, actually, I’m looking for Anchor,” the pompous idiot says, looking me up and down and sneering when he sees the cut.
Huh, guess we don’t bank where he works….
I tilt my head at the idiot and confirm, “Well, that would be me, but I’m guessing you're not here for a tattoo because you don’t look the type.”
He curls his lip at me and looks me up and down again, actually seeing me this time. I can’t help the smirk that takes over as he sizes me up, knowing I’m a good three inches taller than him and at least a hundred pounds bigger in muscle.
He points at me and snaps, “I’m here to tell you to stay the fuck away from Heaven. She’s mine!”
I raise a brow at him as Cazza’s mouth parts in shock, her caramel eyes wide before she jumps in with confusion and asks, “Does he mean Heaven from high school Heaven, the girl you were head over heels in love with Heaven?”
The dickhead before me laughs and says, “The dirty biker couldn’t get the girl, huh?” then he glares my way and demands, “Stay the fuck away from my girl! We’re dating, and soon, she’ll introduce me to her son!”
He did not just fucking bring up my son!
I fist my hands, trying not to hit this fucker first, knowing I don’t need the shit, though maybe my wife could represent me, even though she’s gone into family law.
Fuck, that would be hot….
“Hang on a second, Heaven has a kid?” Cazza gasps in shock before anger takes over and growls, “And she never told me?!”
I roll my eyes at the five-foot fierce woman, then look back at the soon-to-be dead guy, and I picture myself stabbing my tattoo gun into his eye. I smirk, causing Cazza to raise a brow at me like she can read my mind, but we both know she can’t.
She doesn’t even know Heaven and I are married—or didn’t…because I’m about to out us.
I tilt my head at the fucker, and I state, “Let me get this right, you came here, to my tattoo parlor, that’s mostly full of MC brothers, one percenter ones at that, to threaten me?”
I see him swallow, and his voice trembles as he confirms, “That’s right, I did. We’ve been dating for months….”
“Huh,” I say with a faux confused look because we both know he’s a lying fucker. I point at him and confirm, “You have been dating Heaven for months?” He scowls but nods like the clueless fucker until I say, “My wife , Heaven?”
Fluid sprays before me and I turn my head and see Cazza choking on her coffee, her dark purple hair wet at the tips. I look back at the banker.
I should really get his name before I hit him; it seems like the right thing to do, right?
I chuckle softly; nah, I don’t give a shit. The idiot shouldn’t have come to my place of work and threaten me to stay away from my own goddamn wife.
“She-she’s not your wife,” he stutters, anger flowing off him.
I smirk and confirm, “Indeed she is, she has been for eleven years today. We married after she graduated high school, and her son is my son, fucker, so think again if you think I’ll allow him anywhere near you or my wife!”
He steps back in confusion, and I must admit, I’m fucking loving this.
“How, I mean…” he grumbles before he gets a grip and demands, “If that’s the case, then why did she date me?” Anger now erupts from him, and he is most likely feeling used, which, to be fair, he kind of was. She was trying to forget about me and our love, but that was never going to happen, something I believe or want to believe she’s come to terms with now.
I side-eye Cazza, whose eyes I can feel staring into me before I admit, “Because I fucked up and slept with someone else out of anger.” I lean forward a little, my guard still up, especially with the anger I can feel coming from Cazza, and tell the banker, “That was ten years ago and yet she’s still married to me, still allowing me into her bed. You had one date with her, and fuck, it wasn’t even that. She met you there, drank half of her glass of wine, then left, so do yourself a favor, turn around, and get the fuck outta my shop before I stab my tattoo gun into your eye for trying to claim my wife and son!”
“You have a son?” Cazza shouts just as the banker growls and bends a little at the waist before sprinting my way, and I grin.
Fucker took my bait….
I hear the bell to the door ding as I manage to get the banker into a headlock and twist my body to the side, tightening my hold on his neck.
“Hey, Cazza, I know I haven’t spoken to you in years, and no, I don’t want a lecture right now; I just came to see Trav….” I hear my Angel trail off as she walks into my shop for the first time, and that hope that was building fills me as I slam my body slam the banker to the floor.
“What the…” I hear Heaven mutter.
I state, “Be with you in a minute, Angel, just need to put someone in their place, is all….”
“Is all, huh?” she replies, but she soon gasps as I stand, grab the banker’s hair, and yank him up, allowing her to see the man I’m about to kick the shit out of.
“Jake?” she chokes in shock, and I look at my wife.
“Seems Jake here believes half an hour in a bar with you means you belong to him. You. Are. Mine!” I sneer, my anger directed at a fucking loser who believes a woman is his after half an hour, my fucking woman at that.
Growling, I slam my fist into his face—once, twice, three times—before I throw him on the floor of my tattoo shop.
He looks up at me, eye bruised, lip bleeding, nose crooked, and stutters, “I-I’m suing!”
I sneer at the weasel and state coldly, “Go ahead, this place is riddled with cameras; as far as any judge would be concerned, it was self-defense,” before I pull my leg back and kick the fucker in the head, knocking him out.
“Damn, who knew you were the jealous type,” I hear my wife mutter, and I glare her way, which, of course, unlike most people, she does not cower; instead, she bites her bottom lip, making my dick twitch, and I grab my phone.
Prospect W: Get to the tattoo parlor and clear out the trash. Bring a newbie to help.
I press send, then point at my wife. “You get your ass in my room now unless you want several questions from Art.” Her eyes widen, and she quickly does as I demand, quickly kissing Cazza’s cheek on her way past. I point at Cazza next and state, “You, don’t breathe a word about of Heaven. The club isn’t to know until I have my property patch on her back; I don’t need them involved right now.”
She nods and mumbles, “As soon as the shocks wear off, I’m killing you for cheating on her.”
I huff and walk past her, muttering, “I’ve been dead for ten years without her, Cazza, so don’t worry, I’ve been punished.”
I storm into my room and slam the door shut, locking it instantly. Heaven doesn’t look up from the notepad on the table; instead, she flips from picture to picture as I take her in.
She’s wearing a light pink flared dress that comes to her knees, with ankle boots, and a jean jacket—my mouth goes dry.
My wife is fucking gorgeous….
“This is kind of stalkerish, you know,” she says, trying to hide her true feelings as she looks at my work of just her and our son, but the awe in her voice gives her away.
“Not when you’re my wife it’s not, Angel,” I mutter back as I walk over to her. Without another word, I slam the book shut, grip her high ponytail tight, and yank back, forcing her to look at me. She gasps but soon moans as I take her lips with mine, my tongue instantly in her mouth, tangling it with hers. As soon as I taste the coffee she’s had and the flavor that is all her, I lose it.
I don’t think, I just act. With one hand gripping her hair, and without breaking the kiss, I bend at the knees a little and wrap my arm underneath her ass and lift her, causing her hands to latch onto my shoulders.
Blindly, I walk over to my tattoo chair and sit her on it, forcing her to spread her legs with my hips as I step in as close as I can. Without taking my lips off hers, I reach between us and pull her dress up her thighs before reaching for her underwear.
I groan, feeling that the lace soaked, and latch onto them as I break the kiss and make eye contact with my girl.
Her icy blue eyes shine with lust and love, a look I’ve fucking missed on her, and I mutter, “Guess me being jealous makes you wet, huh, Angel?”
She smirks at me. “Or Jake could have?—”
I growl at her teasing, and tear her panties from her body, and she looks at me wide-eyed.
“Shouldn’t have teased me, especially on our anniversary,” I admit, then slam my lips against her parted ones, and she melts instantly.
I chuck her panties to the floor, knowing full well I’ll be putting them in my drawer later, and thrust two fingers inside her, hard and fast, and within minutes, fucking minutes, I feel her walls flutter, making my dick twitch with the need to come.
I silently will it down, only wanting this to be about Heaven, but she has other ideas as she reaches between us, unbuttons my jeans, and pulls down the zipper. I break the kiss, placing her forehead against mine.
I breathe heavily, my balls tight as she cups my dick with her soft hand, bringing it out of the confines of my jeans, and I gasp, “I thought you said no sex….”
Heaven smirks and states, “No sex on your terms, definitely sex on mine,” then slams her lips against mine, hard, and I moan as she guides my dick to her entrance, not needing any other consent from this amazing woman, I thrust my hips forward, then back, hard and fast, keeping momentum.
Heaven breaks the kiss and throws her head back, moaning, “Oh wow….” As I hit her G-spot, my mouth instantly goes to her exposed neck, my teeth digging in as I try to hold off my orgasm, not willing to come before her.
“Fucking hell, he has a woman in there, doesn’t he?” I hear Art inquire curiously.
Heaven moans louder as I reach between us and press down hard on her clit, rubbing it in tight circles, her cunt beginning to squeeze me.
“He fucking does! Yo, Cazza, who the fuck is Anchor fucking?” Bulldozer shouts, and I just hear Cazza’s words, “I don’t know anything,” as my girl comes with such force that her body shakes, and she screams, “Travis!”
“Lucky fucker,” I hear Art say before he gasps, “fuck, did she just call him Travis?” but I ignore him and thrust five more times before I bottom out, keeping my dick deep inside her as I fill her up, nipping her bottom lip, my groans echoing.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” I admit after a few minutes, and she smiles at me, her cheeks flushed.
She looks just-fucked, and she looks fucking good….
I gently caress her lips before I remove myself from inside her, and put my dick away. Without thinking anything through, just acting on instinct, on memory, I keep eye contact and slowly place two fingers at Heaven's entrance and push them inside her, making her gasp.
My dick twitches yet again as I curl my fingers and scoop our releases, and pull them back out, bringing my hand up between us, showing her our combined release. Then I place my two digits at her lips, which she parts instantly, taking them into her mouth. And without breaking eye contact, she sucks them clean, just like she used to. I groan, removing them before slamming my lips onto hers in a bruising kiss, my tongue instantly pushing into her mouth, tangling it with hers, tasting us together, and fuck me, it tastes divine.
An hour later, after another round on my chair, I sit on it with my bare back touching the leather and my wife straddling me, her bare ass sitting on my boxer-covered cock which hardens by the second as she holds my tattoo gun, gently doing the outline to the angel wings she drew me in high school over my left peck, the date we got married on one wing and the date we got together on the other wing.
It’s not the first time I’ve had her tattoo me, and I know it won’t be the last.
“I cannot believe you are getting me to do this when I screwed up majorly eleven years ago,” she mumbles as she scrunches her brow, concentrating.
I hum, and state, “I wouldn’t have it any other way, and you can’t think of your first time as screwing up, Angel. You didn’t know how hard to press.”
She stops what she’s doing and looks up at me with a raised brow, and reminds me, “I caused you to bleed and gave you a four-inch scar on your hip.”
I grin and admit, “And I fucking love it. In my eyes, that is your claiming mark. Now, finish your job.”
She shakes her head, a smile building as she does as I demanded, and my eyes take her in, wearing just my tank top. Her eleven-week bump is not even showing yet.
Cazza knocked after we’d finished and shouted that she’d sent the brothers home and was locking up, then demanded drinks with my wife for an explanation, and I messaged my dad, asking if he’d pick Micha up and take him to his friend’s house where he’s sleeping over.
I love my son, I do, but I need some time with his mother.
“You're staring,” she mumbles as she dips the gun in more ink.
I smirk and reply, “You are all I want to look at.”
“Charmer,” she chirps, and I grin, admitting, “Only to you,” causing her to stop what she’s doing and look at me. Her eyes race between mine, and I’m not sure what she sees, but whatever it is, her eyes tear up, and she confirms, “We’re going to make it.”
Fuck yes, it’s about fucking time she realized it!
I nod and agree, “Yeah, Angel, we are.” I gently kiss her lips, then lean back and allow her to ink my skin, feeling so fucking content.
I fuck her again.
I know I fucked up years ago, but losing this woman was never an option. I’d rather die than lose her.
Come hell or high water, there is no life without her in it.