Tattered Love (Needle's Kiss)

wasn’t so damn clever. “Nothin’, she's hot. Haven't laid eyes on a woman lookin’ like that in over two very long years, brother.” I attempted to keep my face neutral, and ignored my increased heartbeat at the thought of a night with Scar.
    “Just keep what I said in mind. Unless you’re ready to move on and make something of it, stay outta her pretty little panties, yeah?” Trip warned. I felt my eyebrows come down into a furrow. How the fuck did he know her panties were pretty? Either my face gave me away or he read my mind. “Settle down. I’ve never been there; she’s just a good friend.” I relaxed knowing that he’d stayed clear.
    “Might just be ready to do that, Trip. It’s been near on three years. I gotta sort my shit sooner or later, and she might be a girl worth sorting shit out for.”
    “She is,” Trip mumbled, nodding his head in thought. “Well, I gotta get back.”
    My hand came up instantly, and caught the keys Trip threw my way. “Later,” Trip threw over his shoulder as he made his way out the cafe door with a nod.
    “Later,” I mumbled, already thinking back to the moment I stepped in Needle’s Kiss's front doors. I knew my little brother worked for a woman; we’d kept in contact through regular letters over the last two years, but I had no idea the woman in question would be such a knock out.
    I had taken a quick glance around my surroundings as I entered the shop, my gaze halting right on the stunning, hotter-than-Hades vixen standing by the counter. I did a good sweep of her top to gorgeous toe; all thought had left my head, along with half the blood, and travelled directly south. I noticed first the bright-red “fuck me” heels that encased her tiny feet. My gaze travelled up the purposely torn and well-worn jeans. All I could imagine were those glorious legs wrapped around my waist, and the spikes on those heels digging into my ass, making my comfortable jeans become slightly less comfortable. I dragged my eyes up and was met with the image of her well-endowed chest, pressed tight and slightly pushed up and out in the blood-red corset, with black glittered skulls, setting off her clear green eyes and black hair with red streaks through it.
    When she’d spoken in what could only be described as a husky-bedroom voice, all I could think to do was grunt a few words about my shit of a little brother. I’d gotten myself together, only to have had to endure watching her bent over at the workstation drawing up my ink, treating me to a view of her perfectly rounded ass that was guaranteed to bring even the strongest of men to their knees. That, followed by about an hour of her delicate hands on my body, caused lust-fuelled thoughts that had strung me so tight, I had been sure I'd stepped back to being a hormonal sixteen-year-old boy again, rather than the twenty-eight-year-old man I was. Damn, I wanted a piece of that.
    I knew the moment her eyes met mine in the mirror, I wasn’t alone in my dirty thoughts when her voice had turned breathless. I couldn't help but think if this was how she would sound when she was about to come.
    When her bare fingers ran softly across my taut shoulder, I would have liked nothing more than to have her pinned beneath me, her nails scrapping down my back. The last few years had been a series of hard lessons learned; I was nearing thirty years old. Just three years earlier, I’d had darn near everything a man could have wanted. Unfortunately, I had soon realized, good and well, that nothing was ever guaranteed, everything you held close could be taken in one soul-crushing swoop, leaving you destroyed and feeling hopeless.
    I had never thought I would run smack dab into exactly the thing that had the potential to sooth my sorrow-filled heart, all wrapped up in a sexy, tattooed killer body.
    After leaving Trip, I made a few stops to let friends and Ma know I was home before heading over and picking out a new truck.
    Ma made a few calls to my sisters, and organized a family welcome-home dinner at Trip’s place that night. Even with all that was going on, there was one thing at the forefront of my mind. I needed to figure out exactly how to get one fine-ass woman, named Scarlett, into my bed, pronto. It shouldn’t be too hard right?
    Later that afternoon, I pulled up to Trip’s house in my new, sleek gun-metal grey Chevy pickup. Jumping down, I noticed a stunning pair of legs under the hood of a sweet ride across the road; I recognized