CHAPTER 8
ROMAN
I wake up the next morning and groan in pure bliss as I stretch out feeling all of my muscles tense up and then immediately relax. There is no doubt I just had the best sleep of my life after the most entertaining and strange evening with Carter. I know I kissed him first and perhaps using my mouth to shut up his rambling was forward of me but I figured since he has been aggressively flirting with me since we met that it was a safe bet he wouldn't be mad I kissed him.
I feel a shiver run right down my spine as I remember the way his big body felt on top of me. The way he seemingly lost control and just ground his hard cock against mine. It felt so good. Insanely good and fuck he tasted like heaven, he tasted like mine. As crazy as that sounds and believe me I know it sounds crazy but maybe Carter is on to something with this whole soulmate thing. I do feel a pull toward him and the heat between us almost set the fucking couch on fire. I never felt anything even remotely close to that kind of chemistry with Terry.
Just thinking about him kissing me like his life depended on it, has my temperature rising again. Sliding my hand down under the cover, I grip the base of my achingly hard cock. Clearly he remembers how good Carter felt. Stroking lazily up and teasing over my drooling tip has me hissing through my teeth. I'm not sure if Carter has left for work and I don’t want him to hear me whack one out, especially since he is the cause of this morning exercise. Standing under the showerhead with the water pounding off my back, I slowly stroke myself. The only better way I could start the day would be to come down Carter's pretty tattooed throat. Good thing I’m used to using my imagination to get off. My dick throbs in my hand, and I close my eyes thinking of Tatts kneeling in front of me, licking my hard, aching cock from base to tip. Damnnnn. The thought of him swallowing me down, his throat squeezing around my tip, is what sends me over the edge, cum spilling over my hand as I moan his name.
“Honey, I’m home.” I snicker at the sound of Carter's voice as he walks through the door after work. The guy is absolutely ridiculous but I’m here for it.
“Dinner is ready, dear,” I call back in a sing-song voice. Just being in Carter's orbit for a day, I’m already being pulled into his world. I learned quickly when my life was flipped upside down and I was sent to prison: life can change in a heartbeat. I don’t want to pass on something that feels so right.
“Awww, you see, that’s what I’m talking about.” Carter appears in the kitchen and I can immediately smell that familiar scent of ink and disinfectant that's ingrained in his DNA. “A sexy man waiting for me with dinner ready.” He comes closer to the stove, sticking his head over the pot and taking a deep inhale of the chili I made. The groan that leaves his lips is indecent and goes straight to my dick.
“I figured we have some time to line our stomachs before we head out to the birthday party.” I shrug with a slight blush. This whole thing is very domesticated and I know he’s acting like he likes it but maybe he’s just joking around and I'm standing here in an apron making dinner.
Turning to face me, he notices my blush and steps up against me, dropping a kiss on my lips. “This is amazing, Muscles. Let me go wash up and I’ll be right with you.” The wink he sends me should not be as sexy as it is. I have to take a second to adjust my dick in my jeans so it doesn’t knock over my bowl of chili.
I haven't spoken with Nyx much but I was grateful for the invitation to her birthday party. I haven't been out to a bar yet or really socialized at all, so I'm excited. Not only is this my chance to hang out more with my brother and Drew, but I have the chance to also make new friends and maybe even dance with Carter. Who happens to appear around the corner just as I’m placing bowls of rice and chili onto the small dining room table. I turn to face him and almost swallow my tongue.
Carter stands leaning against the kitchen door frame watching me with his big tattooed arms folded. He's wearing a black polo shirt that looks painted onto his body and ripped blue jeans. The little peeks of ink through the rips have my dick saluting him and my balls trying to draw up and applaud. The smirk on his face as his eyes move over me in my apron, black shirt and jeans, is like that of a predator sizing up its prey. Now, I’m a big man and it takes a lot to make me feel like prey, or more to the point make me want to be his prey.
“You are seriously fucking hot, Muscles, I’m really testing my own control right now.” His voice is deep with a husky gravelly tone that has me biting back a moan. This guy is like a fucking puppet master and his strings are attached to my dick. Never mind his control, I'm seconds from bending over the table and presenting him my ass for dessert.
What I don’t expect is for him to cross the short space between us and plant a sweet kiss to my cheek in passing before whispering against my ear, “I’m so fucking hard just thinking about you fucking me, Muscles.” Breath catching in my throat I plant my hands on his waist just to remind myself that he is real.
“Jesus, fuck, Tatts, you trying to make me come in my pants like a fucking teenager?” We both look down at the very evident bulge in my too-tight jeans. Instead of extinguishing the fire in his eyes it burns brighter.
I’ve never topped before but fuck if I don’t want to pound that sexy ass.
CARTER
“We need to sit down and eat or this amazing food is going to go to waste.” I don't even recognize my own voice right now. This man has my primitive side coming to the surface. I kinda wanna piss on him so everybody knows he's mine, except that's kinda gross and not at all hygienic, so maybe I’ll just tattoo ‘Property of Carter’ on his forehead. That’s normal right?
“Yeah, let's do that, otherwise, we might never leave the house.” His laugh reverberates through me and his smile just revs my engines. I can’t wait to dance with him, press my body right up against him. He looks so fucking good and he smells incredible. Maybe I should just lick him again. My intrusive thoughts often win out so I’m not even surprised when I lean across the table, lick his cheek and wink. The fact that he just winks back proves yet again, soulmates. They do say that you should find somebody who matches your crazy and Roman Hilson definitely embraces mine. I wonder if he would embrace my tattoo as easily?
“Can I tattoo your forehead?” I ask, reaching over and poking said forehead, smirking when it starts to wrinkle in confusion.
“Um, no?” It sounds more like a question than a firm no so I’m taking it as a maybe. “Maybe choose some other part of my body?” The smirk on my face must tell him where my mind has gone with that offer. I can definitely think of a better place to brand my name on him. His dick, I’m thinking about his dick. I’ll just keep that plan to myself for now. The image of him laying on my tattoo chair, cock in hand as I ink my name onto his skin permanently, flashes through my mind. Fuck, if we are ever going to leave this place tonight, I have to stop picturing him naked.
JACKS Bar and Grill is a staple with the Savage crew. This place holds so many good memories and tonight is definitely going to go down in history. The whole crew is here for my girl Nyx’s birthday party. Ryan is performing and being an absolute sap for Drew, which makes me so fucking happy to see after the shit they went through. It’s kind of a tradition in our Savage Ink family that we celebrate each other's birthdays here. Pretty little Pete, or Trouble as I call him, has even put up some decorations and got Nyx a crown. You know it's going to be a fun night when somebody is wearing a plastic crown.
My voice is raw from screaming along to Ryan’s version of Meredith Brooks’ ‘Bitch’, which is Nyx's anthem and extremely accurate. With one arm around her shoulders and the other around Roman’s waist we all belt out the song. Watching Roman getting along with my people, my family, it fills my heart with joy and the feeling of Roman next to me is warming every other part of me. The song ends and I grab my beer from the table, knocking it back to quench my poor raw throat before I grab Roman’s hands and start to back away from our group.
“Dance with me?” I call out to him and let my eyes run over his body. Even with the bar lights low and the music loud, I can see the way a smile kicks at the side of his mouth when he nods and follows me to the already crowded dance floor. We have no choice but to step in close to each other. So close I can practically taste the sweat starting to gather on his forehead from all the body heat. I’m not really even sure what the song is, whether it's Calvin Harris or Taylor Swift, likely the latter when Drew is in the building. Either way my hands are on Roman’s hips and we are pulling out all kinds of Patrick Swayze moves. If Roman wasn’t a hundred pounds heavier than me I would totally lift him up over my head Dirty Dancing style.
“Are you having fun, Muscles?” I ask, using the pretense of making sure that he can hear me over the music, to brush my lips against his neck and revel in the way he shudders against me.
“Yeah, seeing Ry-Ry up there in his element was amazing, he’s so fucking talented.” The pride in his voice and the admiration on his face is palpable and I’m pretty sure I just fell in love with him a little more seeing the love he has for his brother. Seeing Roman so relaxed right now is a blessing. While he jokes around and puts on a happy face with most people, sometimes I catch the fear and uncertainty in his eyes. Like he's just waiting for somebody to come and lock him up again. Maybe one day he will tell me his story and I can help him recognize that this is his second chance and everybody deserves one. I want to help him grab his life by the horns and ride that sucker to Happyville.
Unfortunately, the little bubble we have created is burst by Pete dragging Gavin onto the dance floor and slamming his little body right into my back before twirling right past us like he didn’t even see us there. The look of absolute horror on my boss' face has me barking out a laugh at his expense.
“We need to stand back and watch this show,” I tell Roman as we move to the side of the dance floor, but his hand slips from mine and he thumbs over his shoulder in the general direction of the bathrooms, telling me without words he's gonna hit the head. I nod and reach behind me to grab my beer from the table. There is no way I am missing this spectacle. Pete dancing with Gavin resembles a teenager trying to shift a wardrobe. It’s fucking hilarious. Turning to look for Roman, I realize he isn’t back yet and is missing this. I frown and head down the hallway to the bathroom. It should not take this long. I hope he isn’t feeling overwhelmed with the crowd, I don’t want him to be in the bathroom struggling alone.
Pushing open the door my eyes widen when I see Roman with his back pressed against the wall with three dudes crowding in around him like they are about to beat his ass.
“HEY!” I yell, raising my voice above theirs. I can’t even process what they are saying to him as a fog of rage takes over my senses. “Back the fuck up off him,” I bark and step forward, shoulder checking one guy out of the way and putting my body between them and Roman. My first thought is that this is some kind of hate crime. Maybe they saw us dancing and thought they would take a shot. Well, I think the fuck not.
Squaring my chest I make my body bigger and tense up the muscles in my arms, preparing to clock the next fucker to speak, right in the jaw. The fact I can feel Roman shaking behind me has me taking a step toward them, making sure I look each one of them in the eye, just begging them to fuck around and find out.
“Fuck this,” one of them says, starting to pull his buddies back a step. “It’s not worth it. We don’t want to end up locked up like this loser, hiding behind his boyfriend like a punk.”
“What the fuck did you just say?” I ask, my jaw clenching so tight I might crack a tooth. They turn around to leave and I’m already stepping after them when Roman catches my arm stopping me.
“Don’t, Carter.” His voice is so broken that all I want to do is jerk free and beat the shit out of those fuckers, but his hold is strong and soon he wraps his arms around me. “Please, Carter,” he whispers as he buries his face into the back of my neck. “Let’s just go home.”