AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I kept my head up. I slid into the booth and reached for Smoke’s beer and took a sip.
A man in a button-down shirt and slacks sitting at a table across the restaurant caught my eye and winked.
Oh God, does he know what Smoke and I just did?
My cheeks bloomed and I downed the rest of Smoke’s beer.
Smoke returned to the table and sat down across from me. He didn’t say a word, he just glided his finger across his lips.
My stomach flipped.
I reached for my purse and pulled out my cell. I unlocked the screen, found my text conversation with Smoke, and typed out:
Me
Next time it’ll be me on my knees.
His phone chirped and he reached into his leather cut interior pocket to pull it out. He read the text on the screen, and without looking at me, he replied:
Smoke
You’ll be on your knees, my dick in your mouth, your fingers buried in your pussy. I don’t come unless you do.
“Here we go,” the server announced.
My phone slipped out my hands and clattered to the table. I hastily swept it off into my bag and smiled up at the server.
“Great,” I croaked. “I’m starving.”
I glanced at Smoke whose mouth was curved into a wicked grin.
Yeah, starving.
* * *
Smoke’s head rested on my inner thigh as my fingers plowed through his hair. The bed sheets were tangled and my foot was falling asleep, but I was so comfortable, so happy, so sated, I refused to move.
My hand glided down to his shoulder blade to trace one of his tattoos. “Will you tell me what your ink means?”
He lifted his head to look at me. “Sure.”
Smoke sat up and pointed to the symbol above his heart. “The infinity sign. If you turn it right side up, it’s an eight. Eight for Octavia.”
I smiled. “For Tavy.”
“Yeah. Ran out and got it the day she was born. My love for her is infinite.” He grinned and then guided me down his left sleeve to a tattoo of a motorcycle appearing through fire and smoke. His shoulder blade had the club logo—a skull with angel wings.
“No tattoo of your ex’s name, huh?” I asked with a wry grin.
“Nope. Guess I should’ve realized we weren’t going to last when I didn’t want to get her name on me.” He flopped down onto the bed next to me and showed me the inked canvas of his back. It was an image of the back of a man in a tuxedo and top hat looking into a large, ornate oval mirror with intricate scroll work. The reflection of the man was a skeleton wearing that same top hat with wisps of smoke rising from around the coattails of the tuxedo, engulfing the entire skeleton.
“This must’ve taken forever to finish,” I said, tracing down his shoulder blade.
“Yeah. I love how it came out, though.”
“What’s it mean?”
He paused for a moment. “It’s a tattoo that explains my road name. It’s the name my club brothers gave me.”
