Hidden Ink Page 7

  “If you touch me right now, I’ll come and ruin the rest of our night.” He groaned when she slid her foot up his calf. “I’m not as young as I once was.”

  “I forgot I’m dating such an older man.”

  He let her go, only to reach around and smack her ass. “Sassy.”

  “You know it.”

  Sloane licked his lips then cursed before getting up and searching for his wallet and the condom he’d left in there.

  “That thing still good?” she asked.

  “Yep,” he said and came back to her while rolling the condom on his length. “I put it there this morning.”

  “Feeling cocky?” she teased.

  He covered her body before he pressed the tip of his cock to her entrance. “You’re about to feel my cock.”

  She groaned. “Bad joke, Sloane.”

  “True, but you’ll still feel it. All of it.” With that, he kissed her again, thrusting his hips and filling her in one move. They both groaned, their bodies shaking.

  “You’re…bigger than I thought.”

  He couldn’t help but grin. “Thank you.” He kissed her. “And you’re fucking tight as hell.”

  “Thank you,” she teased then gasped as he moved.

  He tangled their fingers together and kept his gaze on hers. Her eyes darkened and her mouth parted as they made love, slowly, eternally. They’d be different another time, be harder, hotter, or whatever they needed. But for now, for that moment, they were them.

  He wasn’t a poet, wasn’t someone in touch with his feelings, but with Hailey under him, her trust and body in his arms—literally—he felt like he could die right then and find heaven.

  Though he didn’t want to leave her, didn’t want to lose her.

  As he thrust once more, her pussy clenching around him like a vise, he came with her, their hearts beating as one, their breaths coming in pants.

  She was his, if only for the moment.

  And if he tried hard enough, he might not fuck it up. But he knew himself, knew his past.

  He wanted her, wanted this until the end of his days, but he was Sloane Gordon, and he didn’t get happy endings.

  He never had…and he never would.

  Chapter Five

  Hailey was sore in all the best places and out of her damn mind. She and Sloane had made love two more times the night before—despite Sloane saying he wasn’t a young man anymore. He might be a full decade older than her, but there was nothing old about those moves of his.

  While she’d always known they’d be explosive in bed—there was no way a man built like Sloane, a man so good with his hands, would be anything but amazing—she hadn’t known it would be that…hot.

  He’d been so slow and careful at first—each kiss, each breath pleasure-filled and achingly tender. And as they explored one another, their heat ramped up and turned…molten.

  Her heart hurt at the thought of how sweet and sexy he’d been.

  And now she had no idea what the hell she was going to do.

  They hadn’t talked about what this meant, what their future would hold because that would be too important. They were taking things slow. Well, as slow as they could since they’d already slept together. But she had to remember, they’d been dancing around one another for years.

  Falling into bed with one another was inevitable.

  Falling in love with him was as well.

  If only she knew if he could fall for her.

  It hadn’t escaped her notice that while she’d told him her secrets, he hadn’t done the same for her. She had a feeling it had to do with the scars that marred his body—the depravity of which surprised her. He’d been hurt. Badly. And she hadn’t known the depth of that pain. She wanted to, and she prayed that he would tell her what had happened.

  But that wouldn’t happen unless and until he was ready.

  Just because she’d been ready to finally tell him of her past didn’t mean he was ready as well. It wasn’t fair of her to put her own timeline on his needs. If they kept going as they were, sure and steady, hopefully he’d feel ready to reveal.

  Hopefully, he’d open up more and more and be the man she knew he could be beneath the gruff edges.

  Still, she didn’t know if they had a true future because they hadn’t talked about it. And that annoyed her to no end. She was a pile of nerves, so unlike herself, that she wasn’t sure what the heck she was doing.

  “Okay, girl, if you’re going to stand in the corner looking like a lost puppy, I’m going to have to kick your ass,” Maya said with a grin.

  Hailey snorted, then shook out her arms. “Sorry, doll, I’m a little off tonight.”

  “No shit,” Maya said simply and held out a margarita glass filled to the brim. “You’re driving so you get a virgin one. In fact, I only made virgin frozen strawberry margaritas tonight. Boy, how things have changed.”

  Sierra rolled her eyes as she drank her frilly, pink, non-alcoholic drink. “We all need to go home and get ready for work tomorrow and spend time with our families. Or we have a thousand other things to do.”

  Hailey took her drink and went to sit next to Miranda.

  “Pretty much,” Miranda added. “Decker and I may not have kids, but I still like to see him nightly.”

  “And you like practicing making those kids,” Callie teased.

  “I don’t need to think about Miranda practicing making babies,” Meghan said with a smile. “Though Luc and I are practicing as much as we can.”

  “Bitches,” Maya mumbled.

  “You’re just jealous we’re getting laid,” Autumn said with a sweet smile.

  Maya threw a pillow at her, barely missing Autumn’s drink.

  “Watch it, doll, you’re about to stain your couch,” Hailey said.

  “I hate you, too,” Maya said with narrowed eyes. “I know that blush on your cheeks and the swagger in Sloane’s walk. You got laid. It’s about time.”

  Hailey raised her chin. “Yes, I did. There’s no point in hiding it. I had hot, dirty, sweaty sex, and I plan to have it again.” That much about her relationship she knew.

  The girls squealed and did little booty shakes in their chairs.

  “All hail Hailey and Sloane!” Maya called out. “To their glorious sex, even though I’m not having any.”

  “Whoo!” the others chimed in.

  Hailey rolled her eyes but took a sip of her drink, wishing it had alcohol in it. “You know, Maya, you could be getting laid. Just saying.”

  Maya gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and Hailey wanted to curse. She did her best not to look at the woman currently sitting next to Maya.

  Holly was Jake’s girlfriend. Serious girlfriend it seemed. Maya and Jake were best friends, though the whole world thought they were something more. Apparently, everybody was wrong, and Maya was doing her best to bring Holly into the fold. Only, sweet and adorable Holly didn’t quite fit in—not that they’d let her feel like that. The Montgomerys and crew weren’t assholes.

  Though Hailey wanted to know more about what was going on in that corner, she knew she had to think about something else. She’d asked the girls—Sierra, Callie, Maya, Holly, Miranda, Meghan, Autumn, and Tabby—to meet up so she could tell them what she should have told them long ago. Autumn was new to her circle, as she’d just recently found love with Griffin Montgomery, and Holly had sort of just shown up since she’d been hanging out with Maya at the time, but Hailey didn’t mind that they were there. They’d all gathered at Maya’s since that was where they usually met—there or at Taboo. Maya didn’t have children, and she had a large living room with tons of space to sit. Plus, she had a kick-ass blender.

  “Okay, now that we’ve made Maya feel bad about the sad state of her sex life, why don’t you tell us why you wanted us to meet?” Callie asked.

  Hailey let out a breath. “It’s like you read my mind. I already told Sloane this, but I wanted to tell you as well. All of you. It’s something I should have told you way
before this.”

  Miranda leaned close. “What is it?”

  “Seven years ago I was diagnosed with breast cancer.” She told them the story as she’d told Sloane, straight and to the point. Yet this time it didn’t seem as hard, as if once she’d said it aloud it became easier.

  The others cried and moved to hold her close. She let the tears fall as well, the women in this room her family by choice, not by blood. She’d lost everyone else close to her, but at least she had these women—and the men who loved them.

  She had Sloane as well, and she had to remember that. As long as they didn’t mess up the friendship they had, she could do this. She could.

  When Meghan cupped her face and kissed her cheek, it brought Hailey out of her thoughts of Sloane and into the present.

  “Why didn’t you tell us before?” the other woman asked. “Why did you carry this burden yourself?”

  Hailey pressed her lips together. “I don’t know. At first I was getting to know all of you, and then it was hard to bring up. But I didn’t want to hide it anymore.” She blew out a breath when Meghan stepped away. “But since I’m talking about it, do your self-exams, ladies. It saved my life. If you feel a lump, you get it biopsied. You do something. Your doctors might not know everything right away, so you ask the hard questions. Get me?”

  The others nodded then did a group hug that brought Hailey peace.

  “I love you ladies. Just saying.” Hailey hiccupped a laugh then stood back to wipe her tears. “And on that note, I think I’m going to go home and take a long, hot bath. I really just wanted you all in one place to tell you. I know you all have families and work to go home to. But, yeah…”

  She said her good-byes as the group broke up and wiped their tears. It had been harder, a hell of a lot harder, to tell Sloane, but she was glad she’d told the others. They would tell their men, tell the Montgomerys, and then she wouldn’t have those secrets anymore.

  She was free.

  Free to go home alone and figure out what the hell she was going to do with Sloane. Ten minutes later, she stepped inside her house and stood in her living room, a little too lost for comfort. What if she messed everything up? What if he did? Why was she so scared of what could happen with him. He liked her for her, but what if they made a mistake. What if this ruined what she had with him before…with the Montgomerys. What if…

  She cursed at herself.

  She was putting herself in a corner when she didn’t need to be. This was so unlike her that she hated it.

  The knock on her door surprised her, and she looked through the peephole. As soon as she saw Sloane’s large form she relaxed, even as her body warmed at the thought of him.

  “Hey,” she said once she’d opened the door.

  He had a six-pack of beer in one hand, a pizza in the other, and a smile on his face. “I heard your girls’ night ended early. What do you say about a movie?”

  She stepped back and ran her hand down the hardness of his stomach as he passed. “Okay,” she said simply.

  Okay. They would be okay. If she didn’t think so hard, they would be okay.

  They had to be.

  * * * *

  The heat from the bomb flayed his skin and he screamed. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. The weight of part of the Humvee pushed at his chest and he placed his hands on the edges, growling as it burned his flesh.

  He turned to the side, his body going still at the sight of what shouldn’t have been.

  The five other men at his side stared at him with dead eyes, their mouths hanging open, their jaws unhinging as they screamed a soundless scream. They reached for him, clawing at his body as he tried to break free.

  But he could never be free.

  The chains of memory, of guilt for living and finding the happiness he was never supposed to find, tightened around his chest, his neck, his gut. He started to suffocate. The five bodies shifted back to their whole forms, young men with no hope in their gazes, only death. They’d been too young to drink but old enough to die in his arms.

  Sloane woke up again, his body shaking.

  Thank God he’d slept at his own home that night. He’d yet to sleep at Hailey’s even though they’d been together more than a few nights already. He knew his dreams well enough that he couldn’t predict when they appeared. He didn’t want Hailey to have to experience them, or rather him when he had them. And God forbid if he ever woke up swinging, he wouldn’t be able to deal with the consequences.

  It’d been a couple of years since he’d talked to a professional, but it might be time to do that again. He wasn’t afraid of shrinks, but sometimes the ones who hadn’t been over there just didn’t get it. They said the right things, nodded at the appropriate times, but until they saw their friends dying or a little kid being shot in the head because he’d crossed the street at the wrong time, they just didn’t know.

  He was fine most days. In fact, he was much better than he used to be. He could sit in busy rooms, deal with loud noises. His symptoms came later, in dreams. He didn’t have it as bad as other guys, but he knew the nightmares and the fact that sometimes he broke out into a cold sweat, even during the day, may not ever go away. He’d never been violent, other than needing to box for stress relief sometimes, but he was like that before he’d seen what he’d seen, done what he’d done. Before he’d had Hailey and had opened up a part of himself he wasn’t ready to face—let alone let Hailey see.

  He didn’t usually wake up swinging, but it could happen if he weren’t careful. Things weren’t rainbows and unicorns. Things didn’t just get better. And even if he had the ability to self-reflect and knew he was in pain and knew he had to move on, it wasn’t going to happen overnight. It might not ever happen.

  And that was something he had to live with.

  But it wasn’t something he had to force on the woman he loved.

  He had brothers who had gone through worse. He knew others had gone through hell. PTSD wasn’t something someone could wear a ribbon for and call themselves a fucking ally. It was something that afflicted way too many people, and yet others who didn’t understand said to just get over it.

  He wouldn’t get over it.

  And hell, if he got over it, what would happen then? Would he forget his brothers? Forget the ones he’d lost?

  He growled to himself, frustrated with the path his thoughts had taken.

  Fuck this.

  He pulled himself out of bed and made his way to the shower. He pulled the lever to as hot as he could take it, and let it steam up the room when he took care of his business and brushed his teeth. Then he stomped into the stall and tried to wash away the guilt and sin covering him.

  If only he had Hailey with him. She’d help. Whenever he was deep inside her, he forgot the pain and only thought of her. At the thought of her, his dick filled and throbbed. He fisted it, his mind going in a thousand different directions, but Hailey was at the forefront. He thought of her warm heat, the way she gasped as she came, the way she raked her nails down his back. He placed one hand on the shower wall and pumped into his hand, squeezing at the base and twisting up in rapid motions.

  As he pictured her arching her back, her fingers in her pussy as she looked at him, he came.

  Hard.

  Spurts of come hit the shower wall then slid down in the now cooling water.

  He took a shaky step back then roared. He punched the damn wall, his fist sliding through the poorly made tiles. Pain ricocheted up his arm, and he wasn’t sure if he’d broken his hand or not, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything. He was dirty, stained. Scarred in more ways than one. He’d just fucked his hand, thinking of a woman far too good for him.

  He wasn’t worth anything. Just a man who should have died with his men instead of living to see another day…living to love her.

  It wasn’t fair to those who had been lost.

  It wasn’t fair to her.

  As he pulled his hand out of the tile, he winced. Blood dripped
down his skin and to the drain below. He flexed his hand, but he didn’t feel any burning pain so he figured he’d been fucking lucky. He was a tattoo artist, damn it. He worked with his hands daily, and he could have easily just ruined everything in a blind rage.

  And what would happen if he ruined it again with Hailey, huh?

  He should break it off before they got too close. If he broke it off sooner rather than later, there might still be pieces to pick up so they could keep some semblance of friendship.

  But first, he’d help her with her ink. He’d do it because he was an asshole and selfish enough to want it to be him to mark her body…even though he couldn’t mark her soul.

  Not in the way they both needed.

  He wasn’t good enough for that. And once Hailey realized that, it would all be lost.

  And Sloane would be alone.

  Where he deserved.

  Again.

  Chapter Six

  There was something wrong with Sloane, but Hailey couldn’t figure it out. She ran her hands over her pants, keeping her eyes on him as he stared at his sketchbooks. He might have said all the right things, done the right ones, too, but there was something off with his eyes—as if he truly didn’t believe what he was saying.

  Or maybe she was just thinking too hard. She did that all the time.

  But there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there before.

  There was a gruffness to his voice that scared her.

  Not in a way that meant pain, but in a way that meant…brokenness. She’d never heard it before, not even in the days when he’d lock himself in the Montgomery Ink office and focus on his sketches rather than the world. He’d do that for hours at a time when he didn’t have clients, then come over to Taboo with a need for coffee and food. She’d take care of him and make sure he had enough in him to make it home, but even then, the darkness in his eyes hadn’t been like it was now.

  She didn’t understand it.

  It couldn’t have been something she did, because, damn it, she hadn’t done anything. And she wasn’t the type of person to immediately blame herself for every little thing. But he was scaring her enough that she began to wonder if maybe she had done something.