Free Ryder's Redemption (Badboy Rockers #2) by J.A. Templeton Page B

called Uncle Steve’s office.
    “So what are you up to today?” I ask. She wore absolutely no makeup and I thought she looked amazing.
    “We’re headed to the lake.”
    “Merwin?” I ask. I wish we were going to the lake. I was locked into working on a sunny Sunday afternoon while Deklan inked a grandma who was celebrating her sixty-third birthday with a new tattoo.
    “Who else is going?”
    “Brooke, Curtis…Cole.”
    I was surprised that Curtis hadn’t mentioned it when we ate breakfast this morning, but then again, he isn’t exactly the chatty type. “So jock boy is going, huh? You must be elated.”
    I regret the words the second I say them because she drops her gaze back to the magazine.
    She clears her throat and looks at me. “Are you going?”
    “That depends.”
    “On what?”
    “Is Deklan going?”
    “I imagine.”
    “Then that would be a yes.”
    “You two are joined at the hip.” She’s teasing and I really like this new Ange. That, or the drugs are just really starting to set in. Probably both.
    “Not by my choice, trust me.”
    I wait for a flippant comment but she surprises me when she remains quiet. The attitude of late has been less hate and more tolerant.
    Obviously she realizes that I’m on hostage status until Deklan relinquishes his hold.
    The door opens and an older woman with an Elvis tattoo on her bicep enters.
    “You must be Mrs. Easton, “ I ask the lady, who is grinning from ear to ear.
    “Why, yes, young man, I am. Are you Deklan?”
    “No, I’m Ryder. Have a seat next to this beautiful young lady and I’ll get your artist for you.”
    Ange flashes Mrs. Easton a welcoming smile.
    I walk through the spider-web gates that lead from the waiting area into the shop and down the hallway toward Steve’s office. I don’t bother knocking on the door before I enter.
    Kenzie has her pert little ass on the desk, and Deklan is between her spread thighs. He has a hand down the front of her skimpy bottoms and it’s clear what he’s doing. Kenzie’s hand is also moving in a certain motion and I freeze.
    I don’t blame him for banging his chick in the office. She’s smoking hot in her barely there bikini, and from the second she walked into the store with a see-through cover-up, Deklan must have had a hard on.
    I go to the bathroom and decide to drop back by the office later to inform him his client is ready.
    Kenzie’s soft whimpers mock me through the thin walls. An image of what I’d just seen burns in my mind and I can’t help but think of Ange in her short shorts.
    I unbuckle my pants and slide my hand around my cock.
    My head falls back on my shoulders and I imagine what Ange looks like without her clothes on. Long seconds drag into minutes. The drugs are apparently starting to work because I can’t get my dick hard to save my life. I give it another minute, but it’s no use.
    Disgusted, I avoid my reflection in the gothic mirror above the sink and wash my hands before I walk back to the office.
    I knock on the door with a few obnoxiously loud raps and count silently to ten before pushing the door open.
    They haven’t moved, though Deklan’s hands are nowhere near her crotch. In fact, Kenzie moves back and presses her legs together.
    I clear my throat and Deklan looks up at me, irritation clear in his eyes.
    I set the bag on the desk and remove my sandwich. “Your client is here.”
    A nerve in his jaw tics. “Cool. I’ll be right there.”
    Kenzie slides off the desk. Her cheeks are flushed and her golden tanned body is smoking hot in the nearly transparent material of the cover-up.
    My friend is the luckiest motherfucker on the planet.
    And I am the stupidest son of a bitch, I remind myself. I had that…and I let it slip right through my fingers.
    “Headed to the lake today, huh?” I say, probably staring a little longer at her firm body than I should.
    “Yeah, I’m meeting my brother there,” she says, her fingers weaving through Deklan’s. “Brooke and