Breaking A Bad Boy Read online

  In the front room, Sommer walked up to Drew and then spoke in a low voice, “Look, I don’t think this is going to work out.”

  “I came when you asked. What happened?” Drew asked, lifting off the counter.

  “Probably nothing remarkable, in your world,” she said. “I’m not into guys who feel the need to assert themselves like you do. Our personalities don’t mesh. It’s no big deal.”

  Drew’s face tensed and he shook his head. “Maybe we should talk?”

  “We just did,” she countered.

  He moved in front of her with his catlike grace, spearing his arms through the beaded curtain, and then he was there waiting, a foot in front of her. “We’re not done talking.”

  She followed him into her space, her face heating, and she stared back at him on the verge of demanding that he leave. “We are for now.”

  Ivy appeared at her side. “Everything all right?”

  As soon as her place was clear, she’d deal with him. “For the moment.” She nodded and crossed toward her chair.

  She heard Ivy say, “Be cool, Drew.”

  “Babe, I fully intend on seeing this tattoo experience through,” he replied in a smooth voice.

  “Vince,” she began, ignoring Drew, and focused her attention on her immediate client. “Here’s a sheet on the care of your tattoo. If you can do the wet treatment, it would really do wonders for your ink. Open up the pores and then seal them. No sun. No swimming. Sun protection. No rubbing, especially. And you’ll be fine.”

  “Can I see the page?” Ivy asked. Sommer gave her the paper and bottle of aloe lotion she gave out to her newly inked clients.

  Vince stood up, and he seemed taller than she remembered. Could be the small space as Drew resumed his intense perusal of her, which made her corner condense further. “How much do I owe you?” Vince asked.

  “Oh your wallet,” Ivy remarked, opening up her purse.

  Vince reached inside and removed his wallet.

  “Let me write up a receipt,” she said and moved past Drew to the counter. Rachel returned as Sommer handwrote a receipt. Normally, she gave her cell number, but she refrained with Vince given his connection to Drew.

  “Be careful,” Rachel whispered.

  “Am I some magnet?” she muttered in a low voice, thinking of Lonny last night.

  “Hell no. You’re…sweet.” Rachel flicked a glance over toward Drew, then back to her. “Some guys eat that up and it’s intoxicating to their ego-soaked brains. Don’t fall for the line of bullshit that spills from that type of guy’s mouth. Got it?”

  “Loud. And. Clear.”

  “Want me to stay?”

  “Nope. I can deal with a knucklehead.”

  Rachel winked. “See ya tomorrow.”

  “What are you doing tonight?” she asked.

  “Cookout with friends. Special friends.” Rachel lifted her motorcycle helmet and strolled to the door where she stopped and said, “See ya’ll around.”

  “Later,” Ivy said while Drew and Vince chatted.

  When the door shut, Ivy came over to the counter with Vince’s credit card. She seemed tense, lightly tapping the counter with her fingers. The receipt printed out and Sommer handed it to her friend.

  “Vince?” Ivy inquired, tilting her head and showing him the receipt.

  “Just sign my name,” he said while buttoning his shirt.

  “Men,” Ivy huffed. “Give me a second.” She walked over to Vince with the receipt and tugged on his arm. Sommer stretched, then walked toward the backroom and took out her cell phone. Rory had texted her several messages. Not like him. She opened the first and her breath caught in her throat. She recognized the open field as part of Evermore, but it was his message that made her stop and reread the line of text several times. Home sweet home.

  She scrolled down the screen, looking at the photographs he’d sent. This morning he’d gone home and something big had happened. He went from living with his folks to the owner of twenty acres. Twenty acres and he wanted her opinion about where to pour the foundation. He asked that she call him and she didn’t know what to say…what to think.

  “Sommer, where’d you go?” Ivy exclaimed down the hall.

  She tucked her cell phone into her pocket, not about to call Rory back until she could organize her thoughts, and without any undue pressure from Drew. Once Ivy and Vince left, she’d deal with Drew, and then call Rory. Okay, she had a plan, and her racing pulse could settle the hell down.

  Vince handed her the receipt with a hefty tip, and she blinked as her neck heated. He was pretty generous, and she wondered how he could afford it just starting out as an opening band. “Thanks,” she said, tucking the receipt on the side of her ink gun. “So Vince, you understand, your skin needs to rest. You’ve been through this before. Be good to your tattoo and it’ll be good to you,” she remarked.

  “Better listen, Vincent. Words of wisdom from the maker,” Drew said in a mocking tone.

  “I wouldn’t do a thing to mess this one up. Seriously, I know what to do and if I lapse, I got this one here to keep me straight,” Vince said, grabbing Ivy around the waist, hoisting her a couple inches off the floor.

  Sommer smiled at their impulsiveness, but there was a rock-solid feel beginning to form by how Vince kept alluding to them as a unit. Possibilities?

  “We’re out of here. Gonna go back to the hotel for a little while. See you tonight?” Ivy asked her.

  “At the Diamond, absolutely.” Sommer felt her body stiffen. The place seemed to grow still as Ivy and Vince walked to the front door, waving and trading jabs with Drew.

  The door closed and she turned toward Drew. Now or never. “Look, I don’t want you to think for a second, that I’m interested in you.”

  “Why? Cause I fucked with your friend?” His eyes glimmered as he stepped closer. “Didn’t mean a thing.”

  “No. I’m just not into you,” she replied coolly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how rattled she felt by being alone with him.

  “I don’t have a problem with that. I’m only here for a tattoo, so let’s focus on that.” He peeled off this T-shirt, his muscles rippling like some unwelcomed predator. He was toying with her. Regardless of what he’d said, his body language didn’t match his words, and it made her feel jittery like prey on the run.

  “Just what were you looking to have done?” she asked, picking up her pad. “Did you bring a design?”

  “I was thinking about getting inked here.” He pointed to his right hip bone. “Hope you can freehand me. You’ve got talent.”

  “That’s a hard place to get a tattoo if you’re going to be on stage and wearing jeans. It’ll get rubbed off.”

  “Mmm. I like the sound of that,” he said in a low voice.

  “See what I mean. You’re full of it. Look, just put on your shirt—”

  “Okay. Fine. Higher then. Say here,” he whispered, grazing his fingers upward over his abs.

  The front door chimed and Jen burst through. “What the hell?” she demanded, her dark eyes bouncing between her and Drew.

  Sommer looked over to Drew, then she backed up and went to move, giving these two room to settle whatever it was they had going on. “You probably want to speak privately,” she said to her friend.

  “Are you into him?” Jen demanded, bracketing her hands on her hips.

  What the heck was Jen talking about…was Drew into guys? Holy shit. This was about to get ugly, and she didn’t need to hear the specifics of who and what exactly Drew was into.

  “Why don’t you two take this to the backroom…in case a customer comes in,” Sommer suggested.

  Jen stepped in front of her. “What do you mean ‘you two’? I’m talking to you, Sommer Kincaid.”

  “Huh?” Sommer asked, dazed and rapidly rerunning what Jen had just spouted. Oh no, Jen couldn’t be more wrong. “I’m not into him!” she whisper-hollered.

  “Seriously, I’m not blind. First last night, you hung on his
every word. Then Drew dropped me back at the Diamond to get my car and said he’d meet me at the diner to get breakfast before we came over here for his inking. Only he didn’t show. I was driving by and saw his car out front. So what the fuck?”

  “Ladies, this is so not cool,” Drew said. “Why don’t we take this back to the hotel. Get cozy. Smoke some weed and see where this leads. C’mon Jen, don’t be mad. I was just stopping by to see Vince’s tattoo and I lost track of time. Babe, it’s all good.”

  Jen fluttered her lashes, apparently mesmerized by Drew. Everything he said sounded like a misfiring delivery truck in Sommer’s world—harsh, loud, and really freaking annoying.

  “Hold on a shitty second!” Sommer said. “I’m not into him. I tried to tell him, I don’t want to ink him, but he won’t listen.”

  “Funny,” Jen snorted with an accusatory stare. “Was that before or after he removed his shirt? ‘Cause in my mind, a guy doesn’t start to get undressed unless he’s been invited. I’m not stupid, Somm. What is it? You got the hottest stud in town, and now you want to change it up?”

  “That’s not it,” Sommer said, channeling her frustration away from a scorching rant at this obvious mistake. Harder to do with Drew just standing there, staring. Not saying a word to dispel this misunderstanding. What a prick! “You don’t understand.”

  “Don’t I?” Jen hollered. “Make-up sex not good enough?”

  “How would I know? I haven’t ever had any!” Sommer returned. “And I’m certainly not going to jump into bed with him.”

  “What…you’re not serious,” Jen stammered, her face flushed and her eyes wide.

  “But I am. It’s just not something I felt like sharing—until now. It’s the truth, just like it’s the truth that I’m not into him.”

  “Babe, I’d make your first time extra special. Hot damn, what it’ll take to get you to say yes?”

  “Shut up, Drew!” Jen flicked her gaze back to her, staring mutely for a moment until she shook her head. “What? You can’t still be…all this time. With Rory McLemore… That’s not possible. I can’t even believe you’re trying to say—”

  “For your information, I’m not lying,” Sommer retaliated, her expression stony as she lowered her voice and seethed with anger and humiliation. To her utmost annoyance, she felt herself blush.

  At that very moment, Rory entered the tattoo parlor. He stopped, and his gaze snapped together with hers. He frowned, his face darkening. “Hey, I tried to call. I need to talk with you.”

  “I was going to call you,” she said, backing away from Jen and Drew, and wanting nothing more than to close up the shop and disappear with Rory.

  “Took a chance and came over,” he replied, the doorknob still in his hand.

  “But she was too busy trying to get laid since you obviously can’t deal with her.” Jen blew past Rory and grabbed for the door.

  Rory moved out of her way, and opened the door wider. Jen looked back and pressed her mouth into hardened line. “Bitch,” she spat, her chin quivering and she pointed to Drew. “And you. Don’t call me. Ever.”

  Jen stormed out and Drew casually picked up his T-shirt off the chair. He shrugged, glancing over to her. “Sorry, babe. Chicks get jealous and it sucks. Guess you were right about this not working…today. See ya later tonight or sooner. Look me up by way of Hellhound. We’ve got a website. IM me if you want to get together and party. I’ll clear my agenda if you need help with your situation. Today. Tomorrow. Night or day.”

  “Drew, stop.” She glared at him. “Just get out.”

  Rory walked over to Sommer, then abruptly turned and crossed the last few steps that separated him from Drew. He was taller than Drew with the same type of bulk, but he worked with his body every day. She doubted Drew had the firepower that Rory possessed—in temper or ability to put his words into action as in hammering an opponent.

  “From this point on, you can take your slick talk and jackass moves somewhere else. Or I’ll help you.”

  “Dude, this isn’t between you and me,” Drew replied.

  “It is if you’re messing with Sommer.” Rory turned to her. “You want him to leave?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Drew, nothing is ever going to happen between us.”

  “Buzz kill,” Drew scoffed. He laughed like this whole situation was utterly entertaining.

  Rory stepped directly in front of Drew, partially blocking him from her view. “Okay, you heard Sommer. Time to hit the road. Dude.”

  “Alert: this isn’t the old west,” Drew shot back. “The women I’m interested in aren’t attached to anyone. I got one rule and haven’t swerved from it. This girl falls under the same category as the one who just left. Unless you’re telling me I’m wrong.”

  Rory stared down at the idiot. “That some lyric to a song? Better not be the best you got or you’re in trouble.”

  She came up to Drew and pointed to the door. “Just leave. This isn’t a debate.”

  “Sommer, I’ll go.” Drew smirked, walking past them and slipping on his sunglasses. At the door, he looked over to her, flashing a wide grin. “Like I said. Contact me, babe. I’ll hook up with you. Just name the place.”

  CHAPTER 7

  “WHAT THE HELL is going on?” Rory asked when they were alone. Gently, he pulled Sommer by her slender arms until their faces were inches apart. “That asshole didn’t do anything to hurt you, did he?”

  He had little patience for dickwads on the make for Sommer’s attention. He’d had years to learn that she didn’t play games, and he trusted her…except now the ante had been upped in his book, after having tasted her last night.

  His heart kicked like a motherfucker against his ribs. All he could think about was how to get her naked and wrapped around him. Any fool who tried to come between him and her was asking for a trouncing, and he fully intended on finding that moronic rocker and teaching him what it meant to stay the hell away from Sommer.

  “No. He’s an idiot!” she semi-exploded, then just as quickly, reeled in her emotions by pressing her lips together.

  “An idiot who knows about our history.” Rory tightened his hold on her arms, and a tense silence enveloped the room. His eyes flicked down to her neck and a vein pulsing just under her incredible skin. She was his. All fucking his. If he could hammer Drew into the ground, he’d go and find him. Level a building for how bent out shape he felt. But oh no, he wasn’t about to leave her to trail that prick who just left. “Did you share with Drew that you and I…haven’t had sex?”

  “It came out,” Sommer said, this time looking defeated. “I was defending myself. Jen thought I was coming on to Drew. Which I wasn’t! What a mess.” She faced him with her eyes staring wide at him, and licking her pink-marshmallow-soft lips.

  As angry as he was at seeing that shithead musician here with his shirt off, he couldn’t help soften at seeing her confusion. When it came to Sommer’s pain, she unlocked a primal protective side in his nature, and if she wasn’t in danger, it was easier to shift gears like now and seek to comfort her.

  “I came over to see if you had some time,” he said in a hoarse voice, hungry to get rid of this shadow that lay between them. “We gotta talk. You up for that?”

  “Is this about the property you now own?” she whispered, reaching for him. He could feel his melting anger transform into something equally hot.

  Something he’d previously been able to manage—if only to keep on lockdown. Staring into her hypnotizing golden gaze, he was unsure of everything, except that he craved this woman.

  “It is,” he murmured, pulling her to him, pivoting her a half a revolution until her back was against the wall. Staring down into her eyes, he moved his hands down her body, and this time he ghosted of his fingers along the edge of her T-shirt that fit snug across her body, straining to contain her tits. His tits, as of last night. No way to resist her out of control curves, and he engulfed the under-swell of her breasts. Firm in his palms, her breasts made his sharp craving ro
cket to get naked and balls deep insider her. Unable to breathe, he strummed his thumbs across her pierced tips, barely touching her nipples, but she gasped—the sound of her voice echoed loudly in his mind, pulling taut on his last reserve of self-control. Diamond points darted the front of her shirt, and his cock stiffened in his jeans.

  “How much longer do you have stay open?” he asked, gazing down their bodies, absorbing how they’d fit better without all these clothes.

  “Tick. Tock. Holiday hours. I’m ready to close right now, cowboy.” She canted forward and lifted up on her toes, grabbing him by the collar and pressing her full pink lips to his. A sweet kiss, at first, until she thrust her tongue into his mouth, giving him a taste of the raw intensity they’d shared last night.

  He went one better by driving his tongue into her mouth, going deeper as he’d done to her pussy, and hankered doing again. Soon. She moaned across his lips, shattering his will to hold back. Damn. He had a choice. Haul her up against the wall and fuck her, or release her and get his head screwed back on.

  “Sommer,” he groaned, uncurling his fingers from her arms.

  “Ssshhh,” she whispered, her breath caressing his mouth and bending his will. Licking her swollen lips, Sommer stepped away and walked over to the front door. She flipped the ‘Closed’ sign around and locked the door. She stalled, staring at him for a beat. “What do you want, Rory?”

  God, when she gives me that unblinking stare, it’s my fucking undoing. He watched her as lighting flowed in his veins. “Something we both want.”

  With Sommer in front of him and coupled with the memory of last night, it was all he could do to curb his appetite away from throwing her down on the floor and giving into every suggestion she’d ever uttered.

  “That could mean so many things.” She walked forward, swaying her hips seductively from side to side in a pair tight jeans rolled up just above her ankles, wearing pink sneakers, anklets, and some type of metal and leather belt.

  Everything about her scalded his already aroused and blistered male instincts—now pushed to the point of breaking. To hold back from for her for much longer, he’d have to be chained up or comatose. He hadn’t met another girl like her. Ever since high school, she’d caught his attention with her outrageous outfits and spunky nature. Her rebellion and his torture.