Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
A Special Tattoo Cream
W hat the fuck is actually happening here? Nelle thought to herself.
She looked down and saw Slade’s big fingers opening her jeans. But then his hands moved away.
“Bend forward a little bit, sweetheart,” Slade ordered. Nelle listened.
The garage smelled like old gasoline. There was no way in hell this was properly clean to be doing something insane like giving out tattoos.
“All yours, Slade,” Cyrus said, handing the tattoo gun off.
Nelle looked over her right shoulder. Slade grabbed the back middle of her jeans and pulled. He included her panties too. Nelle swallowed hard as her right ass cheek became fully exposed.
“This beautiful, curved ass,” Slade said. “All mine.”
He brought the tattoo gun down toward Nelle’s skin. She felt herself tense right up but knew it was probably better to relax. Or at least try to relax. She exhaled a breath and blinked a few times.
At the last second, Slade’s eyes met hers. That split second made her feel safe. As though this was okay. Totally normal.
Yes, she thought. Go for it. Tattoo my ass with your name!
The needles touched and cut her skin. Her toes curled and she sucked in a breath. She knew Slade wasn’t going to go slow and stop and give her a chance to get used to it. This was real outlaw stuff now.
The needles clawed and dug at her skin. The burning feeling began and did not stop. Like a hot razor tearing at her right ass cheek. She grabbed the edge of the workbench and stared forward. Not wanting to see the tattoo appearing. Definitely not wanting to make eye contact with Cyrus or Linc either.
For some reason, in that moment of burning pain, she thought about her two sisters. Thalia and Calista. She thought about the one Christmas morning when something really bad happened at their house. Something so bad that their father told Nelle to get the girls somewhere safe for a minute. Nelle knew what that meant.
She rushed Thalia and Calista into a closet and kept the biggest smile possible on her face. She told her sisters that Santa had forgotten some presents and they needed to hide.
If Santa sees us or we see him, he won’t be able to leave the presents! We have to pretend like we’re sleeping! That’s why Daddy raised his voice. He was nervous!
Nelle begged herself not to think about that anymore. The burning on her ass cheek and now the hurt in her heart… Nelle didn’t want to but she burst into tears. Slade suddenly stopped. The garage was silent. Way too silent.
Nelle waved her right hand. “It’s not the ink, I swear. It’s my… my sisters… I’m sorry…”
“Oh, fuck,” Linc said.
Cyrus stepped toward Nelle and placed a hand on her right shoulder.
“ Prez ,” Slade said. “She’s mine.”
“I know she’s yours, brother,” Cyrus said. “She’s hurting. She’s lost. She’s tougher than nails too. She’s an outlaw already, without the ink on her fine ass.”
Nelle’s cheeks blushed as she looked up at the president of Sins of Fire Real Anarchy West.
“Pain sucks,” Cyrus said. “It’s like exploding glass in your heart. Comes and goes when it wants. Just know around here we abide by our own justice. You can probably guess what that is. We’ll honor your sisters.”
Nelle looked back at Slade. She blinked away the tears. There was another pause. More silence. This was short lived too. Slade buzzed the tattoo gun and went to work once more.
Nelle took deep breaths through the rest of the tattoo. She felt the last bit of what would be an A . Slade then carefully wiped away the excess ink and bandaged her up.
“Stand up, sweetheart,” Slade said.
Nelle did as told. Slade carefully picked up her panties and jeans. He spun her around. A hand slipped behind her neck and he lowered his mouth down to hers. The kiss was slow, long, and deep. Cyrus and Linc both let out a few whistles and laughed.
“We forgot a bottle of whiskey,” Linc said.
“Plenty in the clubhouse,” Cyrus said.
Slade ended the kiss with a sly grin.
“Need a drink, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” Nelle whispered.
Slade put an arm around Nelle and they all walked from the garage.
She swallowed hard and asked, “What happens now?”
Slade didn’t hesitate to answer the question.
“First, we have a celebratory drink,” Slade said.
He paused and looked over and down at Nelle. He touched under her chin.
“Then I take you, fuck you and cover all that fresh ink with some fresh, hot cum.”
Maggie and Bee worked together to line up the bar with the necessary shots of whiskey to celebrate Slade and Nelle. As much as Nelle’s head and stomach hated the idea of even more whiskey, there was a part of her that began to grow used to it. Whiskey to these outlaws was like water to normal people. It was just part of their… everything.
Cyrus and Linc let out a few whistles and pointed to the bar for everyone to get a drink. Slade grabbed two glasses and handed one to Nelle. In some odd, messed up way, this actually felt like a sense of home to her. People that looked at her and acknowledged her. She felt seen. Maybe even heard.
Or maybe it was all bullshit. They wanted her around to find out all they could about her life and her past life that ended with her sisters being murdered.
Cheers to that! Nelle thought.
She then gasped as Priest stood near her and she saw blood on the biker’s face. Dried blood on his chin. Dried blood on his T-shirt under his leather cut.
“Are you okay?” Nelle asked without thinking first.
Priest looked at her and grinned. “This ain’t my blood.”
“Oh,” Nelle said.
“I bit someone’s fingers off,” Priest said. He wrinkled his nose. “I mean that literally. Three fingers.” He then chomped his teeth for good measure.
Nelle caught herself stepping back.
“Okay, Priest, that’s enough,” Slade said. “And that’s fucking disgusting. Go clean yourself up. And then go get tested.”
The only two missing from the celebration were Virus and Skylar. They were still locked in a spare room, Virus being well taken care of at all times.
One other person missing was Mara. Not that Nelle had any desire to see her…
Was that the warning though? Was that what happened to a woman when she spent too much time in this world? Mara had been mean, drunk, and tried to casually play it off that her outlaw—her husband—cheated over and over and it was fine.
Nelle swallowed hard. She looked up at Slade. She wasn’t even sure if she and Slade were actually…
“A quick drink for these two,” Cyrus called out. “Because we all know what happens next!”
“Yeah, Slade!” Priest howled.
Everyone cheered, whistled, and there were a few random comments about killing that pussy , which Nelle didn’t like at all. Then everyone drank. They cheered some more.
Slade pulled Nelle closer to him and started to walk. It felt a little weird for Nelle to have these outlaws watching and cheering, knowing…
“Slade,” she said.
“No more talking, sweetheart. Nothing else for you to do but to take my cock once more.”
Nelle couldn’t believe how much that suddenly excited her. She was starting to fall in love with this life. It was open, wild, had a sense of freedom… Or maybe it was more than that. Maybe it was Slade himself…
Slade suddenly pulled her in front of him and picked her up. They were a few feet from his bedroom door. When his hand touched her raw, freshly tattooed ass cheek, she gasped and groaned with pain.
Nelle wasn’t a fan of pain by any means, yet with Slade it felt okay. It felt safe. She knew— somehow —that he would never truly hurt her. That he would actually protect her.
Slade kicked the bedroom door shut and locked it. He walked Nelle to the already messy bed. The room smelled like leather, cologne, and the faint hint of sleep and sex.
Slade put her back on her feet and spun her around. Just like in the garage, his fingers opened her jeans. Slade crouched and pulled her jeans and panties down in one swift move.
“Step out, sweetheart,” Slade ordered. “Need your legs spread wide for my cock.”
Nelle bit her bottom lip and shuddered. Her nipples tightened and rubbed against the inside of her bra. She then felt the slight sting as Slade ripped the tape off the bandage covering her fresh tattoo.
“Meant what I said, sweetheart,” Slade growled. “Going to come all over this ink.”
With that said, Slade stood up and grabbed for Nelle’s hips. She bent forward, no command needed for that. She thrust her ass up into the air and back at Slade. She couldn’t believe how wet she was right now. Her pussy soaked. Even with the pain from the tattoo. Even with that awful taste of the whiskey in her stomach, reminding her that she threw up when she drank too much whiskey.
Even with the fire of grief burning deep in her chest…
Slade put his left boot up on the bed. This massive boot… Nelle stared at it. Slade’s fingers cut between her legs, down and around from her ass, sliding against her wetness.
She turned her head just in time to see Slade then licking his fingertips. Her body shuddered. She’d never met someone so addicted to the taste of her pussy before. Slade then pressed his full, thick cock against her slit. He glided himself up and down a few times, spreading her labia, playing with her throbbing entrance.
Then—in an aggressive outlaw fashion—Slade plowed forward with all his might.