Throttled (Men of Inked 1.5) - Page 8

“No, it makes me hold on tighter thinking of what I could’ve lost.”

“Perfection isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Just enjoy the day. All that matters is that you’re husband and wife at the end of it all. Not if the cake was perfect or if the seating chart was right. Just Joe and you becoming one.”

I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around her. “You’re right, Mia. Everything else is trivial. Thank you for your kind words. I couldn’t have picked a more perfect person for Mike.”

“There’s that perfect word again. I’m far from it, but we’re a good fit,” she said, hugging me back. “Now, I’m ready to party my ass off with the girls and worry about the men and wedding later. You in?” she asked, releasing me.

“All in. Let’s do it,” I said, standing to find Izzy and Sophia. I was ready to dance. Clearly, I had too much to drink.

Chapter 6 ~ Making My Mark

“I can’t believe that shit can even be done,” Anthony said, holding his stomach as he laughed.

“She has mad skills,” Mike shook his head, all of us still stunned.

“When she shot that thing out of her pussy, I almost shit a brick.” Anthony scrubbed his hand across his face, shaking his head.

“A ping pong ball. Jesus Christ, I’ll never be able to see anyone play that fucking game again.” Mike grabbed the beer from the cup holder and downed it.

We were safely on the limo bus after a rather interesting trip to some shit ass dive strip club in Tampa. It wasn’t my idea of a good time, but since Mike and Anthony planned the entire night, I sat back and tried to enjoy the ride. I felt guilty watching strippers knowing that Suzy was off enjoying a peaceful night with the girls. Izzy promised me that they were just going for drinks and maybe dancing and that they’d be staying in a hotel room so they wouldn’t drink and drive.

“Why the fuck aren’t you talking?” Bear said as he nudged Tank.

I shook my head, laughing at the mix of guys on this bus. For some unknown reason, Mike and Anthony decided to invite Bear, Tank, and a few other guys from the Neon Cowboy. They knew each other from Inked since they were not only friends but also clients.

“I’m talking. Just listening about the pussy show.” I glared at Bear and then looked at Tank, tilting my head while I studied his face. “What the fuck is that smirk for?”

“You’re so pussy whipped.” Tank tipped his glass, his smirk turning into a smile. The corner of his eyes wrinkled as he chuckled and took a swig of beer.

“Fuck off,” I growled. “I’m not pussy whipped. Why look at ground meat when I have grade A platinum pussy at home? I know you boys don’t know the difference.” I smirked, looking to Mike. “Not you brother, you get the good shit too. You know what I mean.”

He smiled, nodding. “I do, but I am still in disbelief. Mia better never shoot anything out of that pussy. Shit’s too good to ruin with a ping pong ball or anything other than my dick, fingers, and tongue,” Michael said, making a V with his fingers and tonguing the void.

“Clearly you’ve had too much to drink,” I said, looking at him, unable to contain my laughter.

“Two fuckin’ pussy whipped bastards. You sure you two still have your balls attached?” Bear slapped his knee.

“Why don’t you suck my dick and find out, motherfucker?” I smirked as Bear stilled and gagged. “You’re just jealous, plain and simple.”

He mumbled, bringing the bottle to his lips. “You know I’ve always been fond of Sunshine. Couldn’t be pussy whipped over a better girl.”

“We’re here,” the driver called out as the limo-bus stopped in front of a beachside hotel.

“What the fuck are we doing here?” I looked out the tinted windows confused by the destination. I didn’t thin


k we’d end the evening at a hotel. We’d already seen the strippers, so I didn’t think that awaited us inside.

“Shepard’s has the best fuckin’ nightclub in the St. Pete. Get your old grumpy ass up and let’s dance.” Anthony stood, taking the glass from my hand.

“One, I don’t fuckin’ dance without my woman. Two, don’t ever touch my beer. Three, this wasn’t supposed to be a night for you to find a piece of ass,” I said as I climbed off the limo bus.

“Fine, you drink and stew in your moodiness while the rest of us enjoy the ladies, right men?” Anthony pumped his fist, his body shaking with excitement. “Right?”

Michael cleared his throat, looking away from Anthony. “I’m with Joe. I’d rather drink and bullshit than look at any other women. Mia would have my balls in a sling if I even thought about looking at another woman. I’ll hang with my brother while you bastards find your next victims.” He laughed as he walked by and slapped me on the shoulder. “I got your back,” he said softly so only I could hear.

“More for us,” Tank said, heading toward the door.

“Yeah, this looks like your type of place, Tank.” I shook my head. “The girls are going to run away screaming from your ass.” The warm air of the Florida night felt good against my skin. The salty smell of the air and the gentle breeze of the ocean were soothing.

“I’ll show them what a real man looks like. They’re too used to these pansy ass boys that pluck their eyebrows and wax their body hair. They need a little Tank in their life. What the fuck are those douchebags called again?”

I rolled my eyes. The man was clearly full of himself. “Yeah, I’m sure they do. How the fuck am I supposed to know what they’re called?”

“Metrosexuals,” Bear said, giving a week smile.

“What the fuck?” I said, totally in shock. I never ever in a million years though Bear would know that fucking term. A big burly biker like him should not know that term. “You reading Vogue magazine or some shit?” I raised an eyebrow, studying his face.

His cheeks turned pink as he looked at the ground. “I have sisters, asshole. Their boyfriends are metrosexuals. Beats the fuck outta me. They throw the term around like it’s the most glorious thing. Someday they’ll figure out what they’re missing being with such a pussy.”

I laughed along with the rest of the guys. “Had us worried there for a second,” Tank said, smacking Bear in the back of the head. “I was about to do a dick check.”

“I know you’ve always wanted to get your hands on my cock, Tank. I don’t swing that way. Sorry, buddy.”

I smiled as we walked through the lobby. I had the best friends and brothers in the whole fucking world. Before Anthony pushed open the doors to the pool, the glass panes started to shake from the bass of the music on the other side.

“Ready boys?” Anthony asked, looking like he was about to enter a little piece of Heaven.

“Just open the fuckin’ doors already,” I growled.

He nodded, pushing open both doors at once. We took two steps and stopped dead to take in the sight before us. Girls in bikinis, skimpy dresses, and various other tiny barely there clothing writhed and danced to the beat of the techno music.

“Wow, I’ve been missing out at that hick bar,” Tank said, his voice filled with disbelief.

“Neon Cowboy women do not look like that.” Bear held his hand out, moving it up and down, motioning toward the crowd and licked his lips.

“There sure as fuck something to be said for city girls.” Tank headed toward the crowd, winding his way through the ladies.

At least Tank and Bear didn’t come in their camo or some other redneck attire. They wore clean denim jeans, black t-shirts, and boots. We looked like the redneck biker version of the Rat Pack. Our tats were clearly visible on our arms—metrosexuals we most definitely were not.

“Bar,” I growled, pulling Tank off the back of some chick. He had her by the hips and she was pushing back against him with a big smile on her face.

“What the fuck, man? I was enjoying myself.”

“She had a ring on her finger, dumbass,” I yelled over the loud music.

“Who cares? I was looking to hit it and quit it.” He laughed, making a smacking motion while thrusting his hips.

“Shots. We need them in mass quantities.” Bear threw a fifty on the bar.

“That won’t get you far here, Bear.” Michael threw an extra fifty on top. “This isn’t the Podunk bar you’re used to. This is the city and everything is three times as much.”

We leaned against the bar studying the dance floor like a scene from Saturday Night Live as we waited for our tequila shots and beers. I reached in my pocket for my phone as panic started to set in. Fuck.


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