Resist me, p.12
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       Resist Me, p.12
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         Part #3 of Men of Inked series by Chelle Bliss
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  “Uh huh. Sure, hon.” Mia laughed, drinking in James at such a close proximity. “I’ve heard a lot about you, James.”

  He turned to me, winking with a grin on his face. “You have? That’s interesting,” he replied, looking back to Mia. “I hope they’ve all been nice things.”

  She nodded as her smile widened. “Yep. Izzy’s told us all about you,” she said as she looked down at his crotch and wiggled her eyebrows.

  “Oh,” James said, and laughed.

  “For the love of all that is holy, shut the hell up, Mia.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. A sense of doom seeped into my body.

  My ma leaned over and whispered not so quietly to Mia, “They were kissing outside.”

  “You were not,” Suzy said, smacking me on the shoulder. “I knew you liked him,” she whispered—also not so quietly.

  “Would everyone just shut it, please?” I begged, ready to run out of the house like a little girl throwing a temper tantrum.

  “What’s all the commotion in here?” Pop asked as he entered the foyer with his eyebrows knitted together. As soon as he saw James, his face lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. “James, my boy,” he said, holding out his hand to him before pulling him close. “How the hell are ya, and my boy Tommy?”

  “Fine, Mr. Gallo. I’m just fine, and so is your son.” James shook his hand, gripping his forearm.

  I glared at my girls as they stood there with dopy-ass grins on their faces, staring at James. “Traitors,” I mouthed, snarling my lips.

  Suzy stuck out her tongue while Mia shrugged and laughed. My ma, on the other hand, was watching James and my pop very closely.

  “Come on and sit with the men. Dinner will be ready soon,” Pop offered, motioning toward the family room with his head.

  “Hello?” I whined, wondering where my greeting was.

  “Sorry, baby girl,” he said, stopping and walking in my direction. “I got caught up in the moment.” He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my cheek.

  “Seems to be a problem in this house,” I groaned.

  “Let’s go, son. They’ll call us when it’s time to eat,” Pop said to James.

  Son? Really? What the fuck just happened?

  James gave me a wink before he disappeared with my pop to lounge in front of the television and bullshit. Ma smiled at me and quickly excused herself to check on dinner.

  I turned my attention to Mia and Suzy. “What the fuck just happened?” I asked.

  They laughed and shrugged. They were no fucking help.

  “Just nice to have someone new here for a change,” Suzy responded.

  “A fucking homeless guy wouldn’t get that kind of reception,” I bit out.

  “Maybe if he was as sexy and locking lips with you he would.” Mia laughed.

  “Fucking lying bitches,” I muttered, walking away from them.

  I did love those girls. They were lying through their teeth, but they knew what had gone down between James and me. They were looking for some juicy gossip and they’d get it, but not today.

  “Need help, Ma?” I asked as I walked in the kitchen to find my mother straining the pasta.

  “You talk and I’ll cook,” she replied, keeping her back to me.

  “I’d rather cook.” I leaned against the counter and watched her.

  She looked at me with a smile on her face as she tossed the pasta, washing away the last bits of water. “I’m sure you would, but I want to know how James just showed up this weekend.”

  “The boys invited him to dinner, Ma. I didn’t have anything to do with it. I’m sorry.” I crossed my arms, watching her.

  “Baby girl, I know that. I mean how did he end up locking lips with you at my front door?” She laughed, knowing that I hated talking about this shit.

  “I saw him last weekend and he dropped in to check on me.”

  “Isabella, I wasn’t born yesterday.” She snickered as she poured the pounds of perfectly cooked pasta in the serving bowl.

  She always had her ears to the ground. She knew everything that went on in this family.

  “It’s a long story, Ma.”

  “Do you like him?” She stopped, turning to face me with a grin.

  “He’s okay,” I lied, feeling my cheeks warm.

  “Just okay? Looks like he’s more than okay, dear.” She scooped sauce over the pasta, tossing it to keep it moist.

  “Eh. He’s not my type.” I shrugged, hoping she’d drop it.

  But in true Mama Gallo style, she replied, “You doth protest too much.”

  “Ma, he’s bossy,” I whined, grabbing the bowl of pasta off the counter.

  “Bossy or doesn’t put up with your bullshit?” she asked, following me into the dining room.

  “We’ll talk about it later.” I sighed as I placed the pasta in the middle of the table.

  “Fine, but I won’t forget.” She turned on her heels and walked back into the kitchen.

  “Dinner!” I yelled toward the family room, and joined my mother in the kitchen.

  We filled our arms with her chicken parmigiana, an enormous salad, homemade garlic bread, and a dish piled high with meatballs and sausage.

  “You cooked for an army,” I said, trying to balance the dishes in my arms.

  “I wanted to make sure no one left here hungry.” Her feet clattered behind me into the dining room.

  Everyone had found their seat around the table, James sitting in the chair next to mine. He rose to his feet, moving toward me quickly, and grabbed two dishes from my arms.

  “Thanks,” I whispered, placing the other bowl on the table.

  “Everyone have everything before I sit down?” Ma asked, standing near her chair.

  “We’re good, darling,” Pop said as he patted her hand.

  “Guests first,” she said, passing the bowl of pasta to James.

  A collective groan filled the room as James had first dibs on each dish. My father went next before the rest of us were able to fill our plates.

  “James here said Thomas is doing great and hopes to be home soon,” Pop said as he filled half of his plate with pasta.

  James nodded, grabbing my leg under the table as he waited for the next dish to be passed his way. “He’s an amazing agent.”

  “How about our Izzy? She’s pretty special, isn’t she?” Ma remarked as I tried to swallow a sip of water but ended up choking on it.

  James patted me on the back as I tried to catch my breath while coughing up the water that had gone down wrong. “There’s no one like her,” he replied, smiling at me.

  I held up my hand, trying to set shit straight, but I couldn’t stop choking. God was playing a wicked trick on me. Everyone was in James’s corner and no one had my back. What the fuck?

  “You okay?” Mike asked with a grin on his face.

  I glared at him as I tried to clear my throat and rid it of the invasion. “I’m ooo—” I croaked out before choking again.

  “So are you two seeing each other?” Suzy asked, biting her lip as she stared at James and tried to ignore me.

  “I guess you could say that,” he replied, squeezing my knee.

  “Wait,” I whispered, my throat finally clear enough to speak. “We are not.”

  “You have a habit of kissing just anyone, baby girl?” Pop asked with his fork in midair.

  Goddamn it. I closed my eyes, wiping away a tear that had formed while I’d been choking. “No, Daddy. I just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea, is all.” I smiled halfheartedly, hoping that it was enough to stop his line of questioning.

  “No one is thinking anything. That’s why Suzy asked. We’re curious. You’ve never brought anyone to Sunday dinner before.” He stuffed the pasta in his mouth and began to chew.

  I shook my head and sighed. “I didn’t invite James. The guys did.” I motioned toward my three jerkoff brothers around the table.

  James leaned in to my ear and whispered, “Way to make me feel welcome, doll.”

glared at him before turning my venom toward my brothers. “You know I feel this is family time.”

  “James is the closest thing we have to Thomas right now, and for that, I’m grateful that he’s here. He’s welcome any Sunday he’d like to join us for a nice home-cooked meal,” Ma insisted.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Gallo. Your cooking is superb. Better than any Italian restaurant I’ve ever been to, and the closest to my grandmother’s cooking I’ve ever found.” He smiled, turning toward me and winking.

  I was in a losing battle. I was sinking fast, making a total asshole out of myself, and no one would throw me a fucking life vest. James had turned into the golden boy, and I felt like a major cunt for saying that I hadn’t invited him, because in all honesty, I liked having him around and I knew my family did too.

  “We mean it, son. You’re welcome here any time,” Pop reiterated between forkfuls of pasta.

  I hung my head, playing with the food on my plate as I wallowed in my asshole behavior. James pushed the hair away from my face and moved into my personal space.

  “You and I will work this out later. Eat,” he whispered, reaching down and stroking my leg. “You’re going to need your energy.”

  The man was sex crazed. Every part of my body hurt, and there was no way in hell I could have sex with him again. I wouldn’t be able to walk right if we did it one more time. He couldn’t honestly be serious…could he?

  I turned, looking into his emerald eyes, and saw the seriousness behind his words. I ate the rest of my dinner in silence, letting the family talk to James and monopolize the conversation. I’d never sat silent for so long at the dinner table before today. I’d let them ask their questions and hear about Thomas’s work within the MC. I knew it was helping dampen the fears each one of them had about his work.

  After dinner, we all fell into our usual spots—me on the floor with Anthony and the others on the couches and chairs around the room. James stretched out next to me, facing the television as he twirled a piece of my hair out of view of my parents. They wouldn’t have cared, in all honesty. I knew that about my parents, but I worried they’d see how I responded to him. They already didn’t believe that he meant nothing to me. I’d have a lot of explaining to do the next time the girls cornered me alone.

  James Caldo was like a parasite, although a fucking sexy one.

  Chapter 12 - Thrown for Loop

  I collapsed next to her, completely winded from an orgasm to end all fucking orgasms. Izzy Gallo was a beast in the sack. She fucked like a porn star and took everything I had to give. Every moment I spent with her and her family, I fell a little bit farther into the rabbit hole, and I knew I’d never be the same after this fucking weekend.

  “Jesus,” I murmured through labored breaths.

  “I don’t know if I can even walk,” she whispered, rolling over and resting on her back.

  “I can’t remember a better weekend in forever, Izzy.” My words were true. It had been the most relaxing forty-eight hours I’d had in years.

  It wasn’t just that it had been relaxing—that I could do with a cold beer and a weekend of football. This was different. She made every minute enjoyable. Just watching her squirm at her parents’ had been enjoyment enough.

  “I don’t think we should see each other again,” she said, putting her back to me.

  What the fuck? “Excuse me?” I asked, turning toward her. “You can’t be fucking serious.”

  “Dead fuckin’ serious, James.”

  “Izzy,” I whispered, grabbing at her shoulder as I tried to roll her back toward me. “Look at me.”

  “No,” she barked, pulling her body from my grip. “I don’t want to see you again.”

  “Not this shit again,” I muttered as I ran my hands through my hair. “Can’t even let me enjoy the goddamn afterglow before you start spouting your bullshit. I don’t believe a word of it.”

  “Believe what you want, James. This isn’t working out for me.”

  “Seemed to be working out just fine when you were grinding your pussy on my face and chanting my name.” I stared at the ceiling, thinking about what my next play should be to stop the train of destruction that was heading straight toward me.

  “That was fucking, nothing more.”

  “It was more than that and you know it.” I curled toward her, trying to hold her body against me.

  She went rigid in my arms. “You should go before it gets dark,” she whispered.

  “That’s it, huh? Fuck my brains out and toss me out like a piece of trash?” I asked, mystified at her thought process.

  “Yeah,” she replied, her body flattening against the mattress.

  I knew she was scared, but I was too pissed off to try and calm her fears. I bit back like a wounded animal.

  I climbed off the bed, grabbing my jeans off the floor and sliding them on. “We’re not done, Izzy. I won’t stick around for us to say things we’ll regret. Shit we can’t take back.”

  “The only thing I regret is spending the weekend with you.”

  “You’re a fucking liar!” I roared, so pissed off I could barely see straight.

  “Think what you want, but you’re not my type.”

  “You just want a pussy you can boss around. I have a dick, babe. One you seemed to love this weekend. You get your head on fucking straight and give me a call when you’re ready.”

  “Not happening, James,” she replied as she turned to face me.

  I’d already raised my voice, but I couldn’t fucking help it. The woman was maddening. “I’m exactly what you need and want. You’re too fucking scared to admit it.”

  She shook her head as she crawled out of bed and started to dress. “You’re not all that.”

  “When you grow the fuck up, call me,” I said as I stalked toward her.

  “You’re a total dick,” she hissed, moving to slap me.

  I grabbed her wrist, pulling her to my body. Gripping her hair in my fist, I gave it a slight tug as I hovered over her lips. She gasped, holding my shoulders.

  “You know you want me,” I growled, my lips a breath away from hers. “I wrecked you for any other man. I own your ass, Izzy. I’ll let you run, but you can’t resist me forever.”

  I crushed my lips against her, holding her by the hair. She moaned into my mouth as her body betrayed her every word. Backing away, I released her and left her standing in her room half naked and speechless.

  The ride back to Leesburg gave me plenty of time to think of my next move. I’d give her space—for a little while—before I came crashing back into her life. We had that spark, that something special that couldn’t be denied. Come hell or high water, Izzy Gallo would admit that she wanted to be with me.

  “Who pissed in your damn Cheerios?” Bobby teased as I walked in the office on Wednesday morning.

  Bobby was my regional supervisor, but I often told him to go fuck himself. We had one of those relationships. He didn’t hold back when pointing out the obvious.

  “No one. Just a shitty-ass week,” I snapped, throwing my bag on the floor and collapsing in my chair.

  “Ah. Pussy problems.” He laughed, kicking his feet up on the desk.

  “Shut the fuck up,” I snarled through gritted teeth.

  “You better sort that shit out and get your head in the game,” he said, riffling through a file. “There’s movement on the coast within a rival MC. We need to keep an eye on Thomas and make sure he’s safe.”

  “I got his back,” I grunted, pulling myself toward the desk.

  “Not when you have pussy on your mind.”

  “I got this shit, Bobby.”

  He stood and walked toward my desk. Leaning over, he placed his fists against the surface. “Sort your shit out. Got me?”

  “Yes, sir.” I knew he was fucking right.

  One thing I’d gathered about Izzy through conversations with Thomas was that she was the most stubborn person he’d ever known. Izzy wouldn’t be the one to make the first step or reach out t
o me. I knew I had to be the bigger person in this nonexistent relationship.

  I needed to at least contact her and hope she had changed her mind. If she hadn’t, I needed to find a way to help her do that. I needed to break down her walls. Finding the crack was the problem. Once I did, victory would be mine.

  Me: Thinking of me?

  Hopefully she hadn’t blocked my number. The girl was feisty enough that she’d do something like that. Try and remove all temptation from her life. I knew that if she responded, I had her.

  I threw the phone down on my desk, grabbing a cup of coffee before going through some surveillance footage that had been gathered the night before. When I returned to my desk, I had a message waiting. I smiled to myself as I read her words, feeling victorious.

  Sexy Fugitive: Hey.

  It wasn’t much, but it was a reply. The name I’d put in my phone when saving her number fit our situation perfectly. I tapped my pencil against the desk, debating on how to respond.

  Sexy Fugitive: I’m sorry.

  I almost fell off my chair as I read her message. Izzy didn’t seem like the type of girl who used those words often. Her stubbornness did not allow her to admit when she was wrong or regretted something. My heart started to pound as I saw a glimmer of hope for us.

  Rubbing my chin, I wondered if I should ask about which part. It could be about a myriad of things, including fucking me or kicking me out of bed afterward.

  Me: For?

  I’d let her be the one to explain her need to apologize. No way was I going to fuck up the one inroad I had. No fucking way in hell. Once that shit vanished, it would be gone for good.

  I set my phone down, starting the video on my laptop of the MC in action last night. We had surveillance cameras everywhere outside their compound, and in areas Thomas had told us were usual spots where club business took place. When we were finally able to bring them down, we’d have video proof to back up the allegations.

  Letting it continue to play, I picked up my phone to read her reply.

  Sexy Fugitive: For being a bitch.

  Her message was still vague and cagey, but perfectly Izzy. She wasn’t a fucking fool. No one likes to admit they were wrong, especially not someone as stubborn as she is.

  Me: I wouldn’t use that term.

  Sexy Fugitive: I didn’t mean to be a cunt.

  I cringed at her colorful wording. Cunt wasn’t a word I threw around when describing a woman. That shit would be immediately met with a punch to the face or a kick to the balls.

  Me: I hate that word, especially when thinking about you, unless…

  Sexy Fugitive: Unless what?

  Me: Unless we’re talking about your beautiful, selfish pussy and how it milks my cock.

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