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  • Home > Chelle Bliss > Men of Inked > Resist Me (Page 4)     
    Resist Me(Men of Inked #5) by Chelle Bliss
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    “I won’t make a scene and walk out, but you owe me big time.” I tore my wrist from his grip.

    “Whatever you want, Izzy. You know that.” His eyes softened as he looked down at me.

    “I’m going to use my silent time to come up with something really big.” I swiped my fingers across the small hint of chest hair just below his throat.

    “I can do big.” He laughed and grabbed my hand to pull me toward the table.

    “Fucker,” I muttered to myself as I followed behind.

    He looked over his shoulder and said, “I heard that.”

    When he stopped suddenly, I ran into his back, and it felt like hitting a brick wall. I used his body as a shield from the men at the table. I didn’t know if I had an off switch, but this wasn’t really the place for me to test it. I just needed to keep my eyes down and pray their little hello didn’t last long.

    Flash leaned over the table, shaking their hands as I stood behind him pretending to be invisible—something I’d never done for anyone. Ever.

    When he’d said that he wanted to take me to Bike Week in Daytona Beach for the weekend, I hadn’t been able to imagine anything better than the feel of the wind in my hair, the sand between my toes, and a shitload of hot bikers. What could be bad about that?

    I hadn’t expected this, and I didn’t like it one bit. Flash would have to pay and pay dearly to make up for this “be seen and not heard” bullshit.

    “And who do we have here?” a rough voice asked, pulling me out of my thoughts on how to torture Flash.

    Flash shifted and reached around to grab my hand, tugging me to his side. “This is Izzy, my woman.” He tightened his grip on my waist.

    I glared at him.

    What the f**k? I wasn’t his woman. We had an agreement, but to call the naughty shit we did a relationship was overstating it just a tad. I gave him the stink eye and saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

    “Well aren’t you stunning, Izzy. Is that short for Isabella?”

    I turned my attention to the genius and smiled the biggest bullshit smile I could muster. “Yes, it is.” I swallowed the other words I wanted to say, still smiling like an idiot.

    He wasn’t a bad-looking man for someone his age. His long, gray hair was pulled back in a low-slung ponytail, making his emerald-green eyes stand out. A small patch of salt-and-pepper facial hair framed his thin lips. He looked a little like Santa Claus on crack. The vest covering his black t-shirt was the same cut as the one Flash was wearing, but it had more patches—including one that stated he was the VP.

    “Why don’t you sit down with us and have a drink?” He lightly patted the empty chair next to him, never taking his eyes off me.

    Flash moved in front of me and started to sit, but the VP grabbed his arm.

    “I meant her, you idiot. Not you.”

    Flash stopped dead, with his ass hovering just above the seat. “Oh, sorry, man.”

    What type of man would let another one talk to him that way? The way he’d said “idiot” hadn’t been the same as when my brothers called each other “jackass” or “dumbfuck.” His dislike for Flash was clearly evident in his tone, but Flash did as he was told, like a good soldier.

    I slid into the wooden chair as Flash gripped my shoulder. “Thanks,” I whispered, folding my hands in my lap.

    “My name’s Rebel,” he said as he brought my hand to his mouth, running his prickly lips across my skin. “These are the guys.” He placed my hand on his leg, patting it, and then grabbed his beer.

    Flash’s grasp on my shoulder hardened, but I didn’t dare look up at him.

    Fuck. How had my dumb ass gotten into this situation? Flash was a stupid bastard. I should’ve listened to Joe and Mike, but then again, I never did.

    “Hey,” I said, slowly looking around the table. I tried not to linger on any one man too long.

    They all said, “Hey,” and smiled—except for one man. The long hair hid his face as he picked at the label on the bottle. His reaction to me wasn’t friendly or welcoming like the others’. Nope, he was avoiding me.

    “So, Isabella,” Rebel said, pulling my attention back to him. “Can I call you that? You don’t mind, do you?” He leaned into my personal space and squeezed my thigh. The stench of cigarettes and stale beer invaded my nostrils.

    Flash gripped my shoulder and Rebel held my thigh. I knew Flash wouldn’t do shit. He was the prospect, the one trying to get in the club, and Rebel knew it. I just needed to be agreeable and get the hell out of here for my sake and for Flash’s pu**y ass.

    I bit the corner of my lip before responding. “Sure.” The only people in my life who called me Isabella—who I allowed to call me by my full name—were my parents. I didn’t think telling Rebel to go f**k himself would be good for anyone.

    The tiny hairs on the back of my neck rose, and I felt like someone was watching me. Without looking, I noticed him staring at me out of the corner of my eye as I kept my attention on Rebel. It bugged the f**k out of me. I wanted to get a glimpse of him, just for a second, but Rebel wanted my total attention.

    “Flash, go fetch me a beer and get something for the beautiful girl too,” Rebel demanded, staring at me, paying no attention to Flash or anyone else.

    My eyes flickered to his face as he barked orders to Flash. “I’m fine. I don’t need anything to drink.” The last thing I wanted was to drink anything that wouldn’t allow me to be in control. Being around Flash was one thing, but I didn’t trust the men sitting at the table.

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