5. CHAPTER FIVE
We stepped into the foyer of the massive two-story brick home in the wealthiest part of the city. I don’t know what I expected, but this place seemed so not like her. Over the top was what came to mind.
“I got it in the divorce,” she said as she pulled off her heels, and tossed her keys in the large bowl that sat on a table in the foyer.
“Not my taste, but my ex-husband liked anything and everything extravagant. Would you like another drink?” she asked as I followed her to the little miniature bar sitting in the corner of the massive living room we’d just entered.
My eyes landed on the huge grey stone fireplace and the piece of artwork hanging above it.
“Is that what I think it is?” I asked, my eyes widened.
She handed me a tumbler of whiskey. I looked back at the painting while taking a sip of the amber liquid.
“Depends.” She took a sip of hers. “What do you think it is?”
“A Jackson Pollock original.”
“You would be correct.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the beige couch sitting in front of the fireplace.
“It was a wedding gift from my ex-in-laws. My ex fought for it in our divorce like he did with everything else. But I won it. I’m not a Pollock fan, but I was glad he didn’t get his greedy hands on it. ”
“Your divorce must have been dirty, huh?” I eyed her as she took a huge gulp of liquor, draining the glass.
“It was. I fought for two years, and he fought me every step of the way.”
“Why so long?”
“He didn’t want to let me go so I could live my life.” She sighed. “To be honest our marriage was over long before I filed for divorce. He was leading a double life and when I found out, he gave me a reason to walk away. And nobody walks away from Thomas Williams.”
I stiffened. “Congressman Williams?”
“The one and only,” she responded, rolling her eyes.
Thomas Williams was a real bastard and a crooked politician. If you gave him enough money, he’d help pass legislation you needed. He was also unstable, greedy, and in the pockets of the Russians and possibly the Bianchis.
“He sounds like a real motherfucker.” I drained my glass, then sat it on the coaster on the coffee table.
“He is. However, you live and you learn. I’ve moved on with my life even if he doesn’t agree with me doing so.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. Was he harassing her?
“What’s that mean?”
“He has this wild idea we can work things out. But that ship sailed even if he doesn’t want to let me go. The only good thing that came from our relationship was Andrew.”
“Your son?”
“Yes. He just turned twenty-five and I couldn’t be prouder of the man he’s become.”
I could hear the pride and love for her son in her voice. Hopefully, whatever this was between us, Andrew would give us his blessing.
“I hate to celebrate someone else’s heartbreak but I’m so fucking glad your ex fucked up.”
She laughed and it was the most remarkable thing I’d ever heard. At that moment I vowed to keep her smiling and laughing if it was the last thing I did.
“Now tell me about you, Gavin Lawson.”
“Are you sure you’re ready to hear the truth? It’s not pretty.”
Now I was nervous. How would she react? Would she want this to continue?
“I always want the truth no matter the consequences.”
“Well, I’m twenty-seven, and I’ve owned Forbidden Ink for three years.”
“How did you get into tattooing?”
Here goes nothing.
“I learned in prison.”
“Prison?” she asked surprised, shifting in her seat.
“It’s not what you think, Oya.” I took a deep breath and released it. “I’m going to tell you something no one else knows. No one. Not even my family.”
“Why would you tell me?”
“Because I don’t want this to give you a reason not to give us a chance. So, I’m willing to let you in on my secret.”
“Okay. Tell me what happened.”
“I took the rap for my father.”
Her brows furrowed. “What do you mean you took the rap for your father?”
“Before I went to prison, I was on my way to becoming a priest if you can believe it.” She looked at me wide-eyed. “I know. It’s crazy, right? Not the man I am, today. Anyway, I was seventeen, and I’d already been accepted into the seminary.”
“What made you want to become a priest?”
“When I was younger, I can remember telling my mother, I wanted to become a priest so I could save my father from Hell. He wasn’t the best man. Still isn’t. He lies and cheats on my mother, yet she thinks his ass walks on water.”
I shook my head trying to push away the memories.
There had been times my mother would leave for work when I was younger and as soon as she was out the door, my father would have a woman walking through the same door.
No shame. No remorse. I wasn’t sure if Reaper and King experienced it, but as soon as I was old enough to realize what was going on, Reaper and King weren’t even living at home.
“One day he called me, frantic, saying he needed help,” I continued.
“My brothers were older, and they were off doing their own thing. Both King and Reaper were deep in the mc world at that point. So, of course, I wanted to help him. Always have. Even now I have to force myself to stay away from him, so I don’t slip into old habits of trying to save him. ”
“I understand. For years I tried to save Thomas, too.” She put her hand on top of mine. “You can’t save anyone who doesn’t want to be saved. It took me years to learn, but I came to accept it.”
“That’s where I’m at now. Even though my brothers don’t understand, it’s what I need to do for me.” She nodded in agreement. “So anyway, like an idiot, I went to where he was. The worst mistake of my fucking life.”
I hated thinking about what I got caught up in. My father didn’t care about anyone but himself. Seven years ago, he was in his late fifties and still running the streets. Once he retired, he got worse.
“He beat someone over a bad drug deal. Almost killed them. Witnesses said I was the one who was involved, and he didn’t say I wasn’t.
According to him, since I wasn’t an adult, I didn’t have a record, and there was no evidence connecting me to the crime I wouldn’t be convicted.
I believed him.” I shrugged. “He was my father. Why wouldn’t I?
The jury found me guilty of assault with a deadly weapon based solely on eyewitness testimony and sentenced me to fifteen years in prison.
I served seven of the fifteen, then I was paroled for good behavior. ”
“Oh my god, Gavin. I’m so sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. I was young and dumb. I learned my lesson. Learned it the hard way. Anyway, there was one good thing that came out of it.” She furrowed her brows and I laughed. “Prison is where I learned to tattoo.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Voodoo taught me. He’s Angel’s half-brother. He’s serving life for murder. He took me under his wing, showed me how to tattoo, and the rest is history as they say.”
“At least something good came out of a shitty situation. How did you become a Sinner?”
“My brothers. King’s the oldest and the President. Reaper’s the middle kid and a member. Of course, they didn’t want me to join, but I needed to belong to something.”
“You needed a family,” she said more as a statement than a question.
I nodded. “Does my past make you want to end this?”
She cupped my face. “It was unexpected. Yet, I can’t say that it changes anything on my end. On the other hand, I’m not so sure I’m thinking straight when it comes to you either.”
I pulled her in my lap so she could straddle me. She rubbed my head while I kneaded her ass. “I don’t think I’m thinking straight either, but I want this with you for however long you’re willing to have me, Oya.”
I leaned in and captured her bottom lip between my teeth, slightly biting down on the soft flesh.
She groaned against my mouth. Releasing her lip, my tongue explored her mouth.
The caress of her lips along with the movement of her body rubbing against my growing erection set my body on fire.
I wanted nothing more but to sink inside her and feel her warmth and wetness against me again.
“You feel so good, baby,” I moaned. “I want to fuck you, Oya. I want you to cum all over my dick.”
“Gavin,” she groaned.
She pulled her dress over her head, then tossed it on the floor. I lifted her to where I could unbutton my fly. I raised my hips, then pulled my jeans and boxers down. My erection flung flee and she eyed my cock again.
“Did these hurt?” she asked, running her fingers along my piercings. I shuddered. Anytime I got an erection, they became really sensitive.
“Yes,” was my only response before I grabbed her hips and slammed her down on my cock.
“Gavin!” she screamed, but I wasn’t going to show her any mercy. I was going to fuck her senseless.
“Fuck you feel good,” I groaned, digging my fingers into the flesh of her hips, moving her up and down my shaft. “I’m gonna fuck you until you scream my name, Oya. Then I’m going to fuck you again.”
“Oh fuck!” she shouted, her nails piercing the flesh of my shoulders.
I slapped her ass as she bounced on my cock, her head thrown back in passion. With my bottom lip pulled between my teeth, I maneuvered her body, her arousal coating my cock. My grunts and her yelps of pleasure filled the large living room.
She was so fucking beautiful. If I could take a picture, I would. “You’re fucking mine, Oya.” I slammed her down hard on my cock. She looked at me and whatever she saw in my eyes caused hers to widen. “Do you hear me? Mine. Now fucking come for me.”
Her eyes rolled, and her glorious cunt clamped down around me when she came.
“Shit!” I groaned.
Tingles shot from the tips of my toes, then covered my entire body. I released inside her, my body shuddering as she pulled me over the edge. Her sweaty body slumped against mine as we both tried to catch our breaths.
I kissed her forehead and ran my fingers up and down her back. “You make an old woman feel like the only woman in the world, you know that?” she mumbled.
I chuckled. “You are far from being old.” She raised her head and looked me in the eye. “And you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.”
“You are one of a kind, Gavin.”
“Nah. I just know a remarkable woman when I see one.”
The smile that moved across her face could make a grown man cry. I don’t see how anyone in their right mind wouldn’t do right by her.
“You want to stay the night?”
I smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”
I’d never slept so damn good in my entire life. I ran my hands across her silken belly.
“Hmm…” Her eyes slowly peeled open, and she graced me with that smile I was becoming accustomed to. “Good morning,” she said in a sleepy voice.
“Good morning, sexy.” I pecked her on the lips. “What do you have planned for today?”
She shrugged. “On Sundays, I usually hang out around the house, and grade papers. What about you?”
“I have to go to the shop. I want you to come with me, so I can get your tattoo done.”
“I wouldn’t be putting you out or anything?”
I rolled on top of her, pushing her legs apart, and settling in between them. “No. I have a slot open this morning.” I ran my tongue over the seam of her lips. She moaned, her nails digging into the muscles of my back.
"If you keep doing that, there’s no way we’re gonna make it to your shop,” she said.
I pulled her lip between my teeth, slightly biting down on the flesh.
“Gavin,” she murmured when I backed away, trailing kisses down the column of her slim neck, across her collarbone.
Before I descended further down her body, excessive banging on the downstairs door and ringing of the doorbell filtered through the room.
“What the hell!”
I rolled off her. “You expecting anybody?”
“No.” She gazed at the wall above a vanity on the far wall. “Especially, not at seven thirty in the morning.”
She groaned, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.
She slid on open-toe black slippers, stood, and covered herself in a large black silk robe.
While she walked out of the bedroom, I went into the bathroom, pissed, and washed my hands.
When I walked back into the bedroom, I heard arguing.
I rushed to get dressed. I didn’t know what the hell was going on, but Oya sounded angry, then panicked.
Rushing out of her bedroom, and down the stairs, my vision turned red. Thomas Williams tightly gripped Oya’s arm. His face was red, and inches from hers. While she wasn’t backing down from him, he had at least fifty pounds on her and towered over her. She tried to slap him, but he caught her wrist.
“Hey!” I yelled, stalking closer to them. He dropped her arms, glaring at me over her head. “What the fuck do you think you're doing, motherfucker?”
“It’s fine, Gavin. Thomas was just leaving.”
“I’m not going any fucking where,” he sneered, never taking his eyes off me. “And who the hell are you and what are you doing in my fucking house with my wife?”
My jeans hung low on my hips and my feet were bare. His eyes flickered down to my shirtless chest, where Sin City MC was tattooed across it before going back to my face. Before I could answer Oya stalked towards the door, then opened it.
“Who he is and what he’s doing here is none of your damn business. This is my damn house, Thomas. Not yours! Now if you don’t leave now, I’m calling the cops.”
Thomas Williams’ attention jerked towards her. “And tell them what Oya? Do you think they will believe you?” He laughed. “You quickly forget, who I am.”
“Get out, Thomas! I’m not going to tell you again.”
He looked between me and her, then focused back on me. “You haven’t heard the last of me.” He pointed at me. “Stay away from my wife or I’m coming after you and your club.”
I stepped in front of him, standing mere inches from his face. “Sinners don’t take kindly to threats, Congressman. So, I suggest you choose your next steps and words wisely.”
He took a step back, then turned on his heels. “This isn’t over!” he shouted over his shoulder as Oya slammed the door behind him as he left.
She leaned against the closed door with her eyes closed. I slowly walked towards her and checked her wrists and arms for bruises. “I’m fine.” I kissed her forehead when she looked into my eyes. “You shouldn’t make an enemy of him,” she warned.
“I’m a Sinner, Oya. He shouldn’t make an enemy of me.”