Kidd ignores my words and walks straight towards us. Within seconds, he has me tossed over his shoulder and is walking towards his room, my face directly in front of his ass. Without a second thought, I bite down. He doesn’t even miss a step, but instead, just smacks my ass and keeps on walking.
As soon as we make it back into his room, he tosses me onto the bed. “It's time.”
“Time for what?” I ask.
“Time to go see Greg over at Ink Kings. We need to get you branded, before I have to kill some asshole for trying get near you. I know Timber’s been inside for over two years, so he doesn’t know that I claimed you, but once my name is on your arm, everyone will know that you’re mine. Then, and only then, will they know to keep their hands to their fucking self.”
I roll to the side of the bed and sit up. “Nuh huh, no way. It's bad enough that everyone in the club thinks you own me. There's no way in hell I’m putting your name on my body--permanently.”
“You're not stupid. You had to know this was coming. You've been around here long enough to know that old ladies wear their man’s brand.”
Brand! I hate that freaking word. “You brand a damn cow, not a woman.”
Kidd crosses his arms over his chest. “What the fuck ever. Call it what you want, but my name is going on your arm.”
“Nope, not happening. Once you pull your head out of your ass, this charade will end, and then I'll be stuck wearing your name for the rest of my damn life.” I shoot him a sarcastic smile. “Maybe that Krista chick will take my place.”
Even thinking about another woman wearing his brand makes my stomach knot up. I’m not even sure why I said it. Maybe I just need him to reassure me and tell me that this isn’t going to end the same way as it did last time.
“Baby girl, you need to get this straight in that thick head of yours. This is not gonna end. You're mine, you'll be mine tomorrow, and you'll still be mine twenty years from now,” he says as he leans closer to me.
“Fine, but if you're branding me, then I'm branding you. You don't have any more room on your arms, so you can just get a big ole ‘property of Ice’ tattoo on that sexy ass of yours,” I say, pasting on a saccharine sweet smile.
“Not funny, Ice.”
I shrug. “Do you see me laughing? If you want me to get your name on me, then you’re getting mine on you.”
He shakes his head. “I don't fucking think so.”
“Well then, looks like I'll be the first old lady that doesn't get branded,” I say as I climb from the bed and try to walk past him.
He grabs my arm before I even take a step. “Fuck yeah, you are.”
“Unless you're getting one too, then you’ll have to pull me kicking and screaming into Ink Kings. I promise you that I’ll throw such a damn fit that Greg won't even be able to tattoo a straight line,” I say, determination lacing through my voice.
He stares at me like I have a second head. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Hell yeah, I am.”
He blows out a frustrated breath before replying. “Fine, I’ll get your name, but I ain’t getting shit on my ass. I’ll have your name where everybody can fuckin’ see it, but there is no way in hell I’m getting a ‘property of’ tat, so your name will have to do.”
I start to argue some more, but stop when it hits me. Kidd is giving me more than any other old lady has ever gotten. Sure, a few of the brothers have their woman’s name on them, but I doubt they got it for the same reason that Kidd is getting mine. A true smile finally crosses my lips. “Set it up. I’ll wear your brand, baby.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, Kidd’s lips cover mine. His kisses are so different than any other ones I’ve ever had. It’s slow and soft, as if he’s taking the time to memorize the feel of my lips. It sends shivers down my spine, and within seconds, my whole body is on fire. I’m about to lose myself to it, but one name keeps popping into my brain.
I slowly pull back and look into his eyes. “Who exactly is Krista?”
Kidd
Shit! I knew she’d want to talk about Krista, but I’d rather be doing other things right now. I pause a second to get the words straight. “She’s Sarah’s sister.”
“Sarah?” she asks in a whispered voice.