Free Striker (Black Rebel Riders' MC Book 4) by Glenna Maynard Page A

senses my apprehension. “Calm down, just getting some work done, not what you think. However, if you weren’t so freaked out right now, I would tattoo your name all over my body. That’s how dedicated to you I am. Baby, I swear I am changing, I don’t want anyone else. You are and will be the only woman for me, ever. I’ve loved you since I was four years old.” He runs his hands over my arms coaxing me. He kisses my cheek and I lean into him and return his affection.
    When he says things like that how can I walk away from him and deny him, what’s his—my heart, my body and my soul. I take his outstretched hand and we go inside together. Giving him my trust is hard, but I want to give him the benefit of the doubt.
    “Hey brother, good to see you. Baby.” Inkman greets us and takes us back to his parlor. Striker tells Inkman what he wants and my heart melts a little more for this man. I am not all that surprised that he wants Colt’s name on his back. But the fact makes me happy, he really is trying.
    Striker removes his shirt and sweet lord, my cheeks flush and heat taking in the sight of his naked torso. He grins wickedly at me as if he knows I am thinking about running my tongue down his chest and sucking him off right here. If only we were alone. Not that I think Inkman would mind a little performance art.
    Striker takes his place on the chair leaning forward giving Inkman the best access to his back. I watch in awe, it is like magic happening before my eyes. Vines begin to take shape wrapping around the trunk of the magnolia tree, and soon a few leaves appear, one bearing Colt’s name.
    “Your name will be added soon,” he grins over at me as he looks at his new ink in the mirror.
    Another customer comes in, so I apply the crème and cover the tattoo for Inkman. Striker turns around facing me after getting his shirt on and grabs me forcefully by the waistband of my jeans tugging me forward, pressing our bodies together. Playfully he licks the outline of my mouth with his hot wet tongue, before devouring my lips with his. “Thank you for coming with me today and being cool with everything.” He looks into my eyes piercing me with his own. “Stay with me tonight. You and Colt.” He squeezes my ass possessively.
    “I can’t, and even if I didn’t already have plans that’s a little too fast for my comfort. Okay. You promised we’d go slowly.” He reluctantly compromises and we go up front so he can pay Inkman. Fucking Diamond is rubbing all over Inkman in the lobby. She is so gross. She has the nerve to wink at Striker. Fucking skanky snatch Pocahontas wanna’be bitch. I clinch my fists digging my nails in my palms, trying to fight the urge to knock the shit out of her.
    It takes everything in me not to knock the fucking jewels off her bedazzled twat. Striker squeezes my hand as he pays for his new tat and leads me out the door before I can demonstrate to her what a bitch I can be. 
    Outside before we get on Striker’s bike he places a hand on either side of my face. “Don’t let her ruin this. She meant nothing to me. I was drunk, it’s no excuse but it’s the truth.”
    I take his words to heart and commit them to memory because if I know one thing it is that Diamond is a trouble-making whore. She tried to have a go with Rebel, until Foxie put her in her place.
    Striker kisses me once more trying to reassure me though no guarantee is needed I am beginning to trust him. “We have another hour.” Kiss. “Before we have to pick up Colt.” Nibble.
    “Well then, better get me home fast. One hour, that’s not nearly long enough for what I want to do to you.”  I bite down on his lip ring and suck it between my teeth seductively.
    “Is that a fact?” Striker jokes at my forwardness.
    “No it’s a guarantee,” I mock him back.
    “Well darlin’, I do believe I promised you a fresh mattress. Let’s go test some out.” He winks at me over his shoulder before bringing his bike to life.