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|Resist Me(Men of Inked #5) by Chelle Bliss|
“You like your woman weak?”
He shook his head, turning slightly to look over his shoulder at me with his unibrow arched inward. “Babe, I don’t do weak.”
“Is your wife a ‘yes, sir’ kind of woman?”
“She’s the toughest woman I know.”
“You seem like a badass dude, yet you’re with a tough chick. Why?”
“I said that I don’t do weak. I wanted a partner. If I just wanted someone who would fill my bed, I would’ve stuck with club whores, kid.”
“I thought tough guys liked weak,” I said, placing the needle against his skin and starting on the heart I’d woven with the skull.
“Weak pricks like weak chicks. I want someone to keep me on my toes. You have some f**ked-up thoughts on men, babe.”
I thought about his words, letting them sink in before I spoke. “I have four brothers who act like the missing link between modern-day man and cavemen,” I said, laughing to myself as I pictured them beating on their chests.
“They’re men and not pussies like boys are today. Video games, manscaping, and metrosexuals have f**ked up society. We’re raising a generation of pansy-ass motherfuckers. Your brothers are solid dudes. I’d want them at my back when shit went down.”
“Huh,” I said, knowing that his words were true. My brothers always had my back and were there when I needed them. I’d never feared shit because of them.
“We done?” he asked, holding his headphones in his hand.
“Yep,” I answered, not looking at my brothers as I continued to work. I knew they were all smiles with shitty “I told you so” looks on their faces.
Opinions were like ass**les—everybody had one.
Chapter 14 - Playing Dirty
Four hours had passed since I’d sent Izzy the message asking her what she didn’t like. She could’ve been writing a goddamn novel to describe everything that drove her ass crazy. Just when I was about to lose my shit, my phone beeped.
Sexy Fugitive: Sorry. I had an early client and it took for f**king ever… HUGE piece of work covering his entire back.
At least I knew her quietness hadn’t been intentional.
Me: I thought you were giving me the brush-off… again.
Sexy Fugitive: I don’t even know where to start, James.
Me: Anywhere you want, beautiful. Tell me one thing you didn’t like.
I was possibly inviting disaster.
Sexy Fugitive: You’re bossy.
I laughed as I read her words. Izzy was a bossy little thing too. She wasn’t a patsy for anyone, especially someone with a dick between their legs.
Me: Only when I need to be.
Sexy Fugitive: So all the time basically you feel the need.
She was a ball buster. Her brothers had raised her right and hadn’t sheltered her.
Me: When I feel the need to protect something important, then yes.
Sexy Fugitive: I’m capable of protecting myself, James.
Me: Never said you couldn’t, but I’d rather be your shield and take the brunt of anything thrown your way.
A few minutes passed and I waited, sipping on a beer as I let ESPN play in the background. Seventy-two hours ago, I’d walked out of her house and waited for her to make the first move. It hadn’t come, but I’d been man enough to suck it up and take the first step.
Sexy Fugitive: You’re cocky.
Me: Wait a second here. Are we listing your traits or mine?
She had cocky down pat. The girl had the shit in spades.
Sexy Fugitive: Don’t be an ass. We’re talking about you.
Me: Confused me there for a second. I am who I am just like you are who you are… Smug, bossy, and beautiful.
Sexy Fugitive: Flattery will get you nowhere.
Me: I know. You like the challenge as much as I do.
Sexy Fugitive: Bullshit. You’re infuriating.
Me: And it makes you wet.
Sexy Fugitive: You can’t be serious.
Me: I’d never joke when talking about that sweet-ass pu**y of yours, Izzy.
I had a hard-on just thinking about her. It took everything in me not to hop on my bike and have this conversation face to face.
Me: Touch yourself. I’m sure you’re wet right now.
Her reply was swift and made me laugh. She didn’t like the thought of me being right.
Sexy Fugitive: Fuck off, James.
Me: If you were here, I’d have you on all fours, begging for more.
Sexy Fugitive: Maybe I’d want to be on my back and looking in your eyes.
Me: Lying through your teeth, doll. You’d be slamming yourself against my cock, taking all I had to give.
Sexy Fugitive: STOP.
My dick throbbed, aching for release. My balls had to be blue with the way they felt. Bastards may burst at any moment. I needed inside Izzy and I didn’t want to wait. I knew that if I jerked off, it wouldn’t f**king help. My hand didn’t compare to her milking the life out of my dick.
Me: Panties soaked?
Sexy Fugitive: I didn’t wear any today.
She didn’t understand how her trying to shut me the hell up was a total cocktease. I loved it. I could go out and find some nameless woman who would lay herself out and offer her pu**y to me to relieve the ache deep in my balls. I didn’t want that. I only wanted her. After having a few tastes, I was hooked. No one else would ever compare.
Sexy Fugitive: I’m almost dripping thinking of you jamming your hard, long c**k inside me.
She was the devil.