"Holy fuck."
That was my first thought when I woke up. I hadn't even opened my eyes and I could feel my whole body already aching profusely.
"I can't say that this is the first time I've woken up to a woman having that reaction." I jumped out of the bed, landing in a heap of limbs on the floor, my head pounding in protest.
"WHAT THE FUCK? WHO ARE YOU?" I barely recognized the fucking Adonis in my bed, but I knew I had met him before. He had made himself comfortable in my bed, his arms tucked behind his head and a smirk on his face. I tried to remember what happened last night after my little chat with Val, but my mind came up blank. Â I remembered meeting him, he was the new VP. Â I remember Val telling me to stay away from him, then he brought up Anastasia and I guess I lost my shit. Â I looked down and sighed with relief. I was still wearing my clothes from last night, which was a good sign.
"You keep forgetting me. It's kind of fucking up my ego. I mean, you did practically beg me to stay with you last night." I gasped.
"Did I really? Fuck, I really need to stop drinking." I think we both knew that wasn't going to happen.
"Ouch."
"No, it's just...you're Jax, right?" Of course he was. I would recognize those eyes any day of the week, despite my track record of being slightly under the influence every time I saw him. If I thought he looked good last night, he looked even better in the morning. He nodded and pushed his hair out of his face and I realized he was shirtless. In my bed. Fuck. His tattoos were beautiful and he was covered, from his chest, to his torso, to his...
I forced myself to remember Val's warning.
"You should go." He smirked before pushing himself up.
"I should, but I don't want to. And I don't think you want me to either." My stomach dropped and it felt like little fucking butterflies were dancing around. I wanted them to fuck off. Or maybe it was...
Yup. Definitely vomit. I rushed to the bathroom before emptying my stomach into the toilet.
"Well, I have to admit that this is the first time I've gotten that reaction." I gave him the finger. I heard him moving around and saw his feet enter the bathroom from where my head was resting against the toilet. Even his legs had tattoos. It was like he knew they were my weakness. He handed me a glass of water, amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Ok drunky, I should get out of here before Val sees me and rips off my dick. That wouldn't be good, for either of us." He winked at me and I felt my face flush. I really blushed, like a goddamn high schooler. Jesus. Before I could say anything, he was gone. I breathed out the air I didn't realize I was holding, and decided that I was truly fucked. I knew I had to stay as far away from that man as possible, and I knew it would not be easy. He was one of those people that pulls you in, despite the fact that I didn't know a goddamn thing about him. But I knew nothing could happen between us, for the sake of Val and the club.
I took a shower, throwing on some fitted sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt with my sneakers, leaving my hair to dry naturally. I was more into my skin care than makeup, so I usually left my face bare. I contemplated hiding out in my room all day, but Val would probably kill me if I didn't go to work. I was mostly just working the front desk, but if the guys were busy with clients I would usually take walk-ins for ink or piercings. Not that many walk into a biker clubs tattoo shop, but there were a couple brave ones. When I got there most of the guys were busy with their appointments, so I decided to work on some sketches. I wasn't a full blown artist, but I loved to draw. Nate used to tell me that he knew I would be an artist from the way I used to draw on the kitchen walls of the clubhouse when I ran out of paper. When I first discovered tattoos, I fell in love with them. I loved hearing peoples stories about them and why they got them, even if it was just because they liked the way it looked. I was working on a sketch for Leila, one of the old ladies from the club, when the chime on the door rang and in walked the devil himself.
So much for staying away.
"Sorry we're all booked." I said, going back to work on my sketch.
"Now is that any way to talk to the new VP? Besides, you don't look too busy, sugar."
"Well, I am. Maybe you want to book an appointment?"
"Sure. When are you free?"
"For you honey, never. Gunner should have some time next week." I forced myself not to look up from the computer screen.
"Look darlin' I'm not here to cause trouble. I just want some ink."
"Somehow I find that very hard to believe."
"I just want a little one and then I'll be out of your hair."
"That's a promise?"
"Cross my heart."
"Fine. What do you want?"
"Ok here's what I'm thinking; the face of an elephant, with the trunk going down my di-"
"Get out." I squeezed my eyes shut to try and rid my head of the visual. He laughed. It wasn't his usual cocky chuckle, but a deep, real laugh. I hated how much I liked the sound.
"I'm joking, darlin'. Mostly. Anyway I just need a knuckle piece done."
"I'm surprised there's any room left for more."
"So you have been checking me out." He smirked. That smirk would be the end of me, I swear.
"Of course. I'm a tattoo artist, I can't help myself." His eyes darkened at that and my heart almost gave out. He followed me to my booth and I started to prep as he looked around.
"You sure like to decorate."
"Well I don't have my own place, so this will have to do." I decorated my booth how I would have decorated my bedroom, if I had one to call my own. My room at the clubhouse didn't really count, it was supposed to be temporary. There was a tapestry hanging on one wall, crystals and plants covered my desk beside my laptop. Nate used to call me a hippie all the time because I was obsessed with that kind of stuff. My eyes caught a picture on the other wall of me and Nate. He was my very first client. We were smiling and he was holding out his arm, where I had done a simple rose for him. You could see the excitement on my face at having moved from practicing on prosthetic arms to doing my first piece on my brother. I didn't even recognize myself, despite that it was only a year ago.
Jax had already sat down with his hands on the table as I put the stencil on his fingers, the word 'SONS' on the pointer, middle and ring finger of his left hand. Â Even his hands were nice. Â They were twice the size of mine, soft but with calluses from the work he did at the shop. Â I noticed the marks and scars on his knuckles that looked the same as the ones that covered my own.
"So I guess this makes it official." I said as I started. He didn't even flinch.
"Sure does."
"Well then, welcome to the Sons of Shadows. I guess that makes you my brother now." I said with a smirk, looking up at him from behind my gun. He groaned and I laughed.
"I don't know about you, but I'm not really into the whole incest thing." I rolled my eyes and he barked out a laugh. I was used to the guys saying shit like that, but with them I knew they were joking. I knew it was different with Jax just by the way my body reacted. He knew I wanted him and he was going to use that to his advantage.
"Ok Casanova, you're done. Let me just wrap it up and you can finally leave."
"Usually that's my job, but you can do whatever you like to me, honey." He gave me his signature smirk, and I rolled my eyes for what felt like the hundredth time today.
I wrapped up his hand, cursing the way my body reacted whenever our skin met. It wasn't those stupid little sparks that people claim to get. It felt like fire. I could already feel my willpower wearing down, and it was only the second day he was here. I knew it was the fact that I couldn't have him that made me want him that much more. Wanting him was a bad habit, just like smoking or drinking, and I have an addictive personality.
I watched him as he walked to the door, the smirk falling off his face as he noticed the picture of me and Nate. Maybe Val had told him what happened. He saw the pain in my eyes as I looked at the picture again, but he didn't say anything. He looked like he wanted to, but he didn't. He hesitated before he walked out and hopped on his bike, shaking his head and putting a cigarette between his lips. He pulled his sunglasses over his eyes and took off without looking back. I tried not to read too much into it.
Jesus I really needed to stop thinking about him.
And what better way than with a distraction?