Read Online Branded: You Own Me & The Virgin's Night Out by Shiloh Walker - Free Book Online
Authors: Shiloh Walker
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can, if you know the right people. I know the right people. You ever want ink, come to me. I do clean work. Maybe we can work out a deal .
The deal had been muscle.
Luther had been nearly sixty at the time, whipcord lean, strong. But he was the sort of man who said what he thought and that didn’t always work out well in prison life.
Unless of course you had the kind of muscle to back it up.
Even from day one people knew why Decker was in prison.
When a former high school football star all but tears a man apart with his bare hands, word gets around. Decker had been heading to college on a scholarship, too. The news had gone national.
People had come at him from day one, trying to beat him into the ground. He’d had one thing in his mind—Lizzie had cried and made him promise he’d be okay.
The only time anybody ever took him down was when they managed to corner him, four or five on one. They got tired of it after a while.
It wasn’t a bad deal, all in all. He’d gotten his ink, Luther didn’t get hassled.
The first one had been the one on his hand.
He’d made Lizzie promise him she wouldn’t blame herself, but he knew she did. It was okay, because she couldn’t help it. She had a soft heart and that soft heart was part of why he loved her, why he always had. She was everything he’d never known, growing up in a roachbox of a house, dodging his drunken father’s flying fists almost from the time he could walk.
She was sunshine and sweetness and all things soft and kind.
And she owned him.
That was his promise to her. Here, tucked in the palm of his hand where he’d kept it hidden from her and the world, was his promise.
She owned him.
And on Friday, he’d have to finally confess that to her.
• • •
“You’re having a lot of fun.”
Guiltily, Elizabeth looked up as Noel dropped into the seat next to hers at the little two-top she’d taken over at the back of her shop. She needed to go out and get lunch, but she hadn’t had a chance, as busy as they’d been.
She was making do with a giant cup of coffee and a breakfast Panini that hadn’t sold.
And instead of going over invoices, she’d been on Wanna Play .
“Hey, Noel.” She smiled at him, although the smile didn’t seem to come as easily as it once had.
“Elizabeth.” He slid his eyes over her, lingering on her hair—she’d let it dry loose, the curls flowing down past her shoulders. Then his gaze moved on down and he reached out, stroking his hand across her skirt-clad thigh. “I thought you’d gotten rid of all of these. They aren’t very flattering.”
“They’re comfortable,” she said. Something clutched her throat tight. “I bought a couple over the weekend. How are you?”
“Fine. I was thinking about seeing if you wanted to get a late lunch.” His gaze moved to her computer. “But you look…occupied. And you look like you’re enjoying it.”
Lifting a hand, she went to close the laptop. “What do you mean?”
He stopped her, turning the monitor to face him.
“Noel, don’t—”
“Hey, we agreed to this,” he said easily. “Remember? It’s part of being open. And besides…this is what I’m talking about.”
She didn’t remember agreeing to letting him read through her messages or poke around on her timeline. He reached up and tapped a message, one that had come in from Loren.
Can we go out again sometime soon? Elizabeth, I had the most amazing night. I keep thinking about your mouth. Your eyes. That body of yours…
His next message was even more explicit and she reached out,
tried again to shut the laptop.
“It sounds like you two had fun,” he said, his voice easy, but there was a bite to it. “How many times have you gone out?”
“Once.” She shrugged, kept it casual. The vein in his neck seemed to be pulsing now, no matter how easy his voice sounded.
“Hmmm.” He tapped something and she jerked her head around to see the screen.
He could be reading the
The deal had been muscle.
Luther had been nearly sixty at the time, whipcord lean, strong. But he was the sort of man who said what he thought and that didn’t always work out well in prison life.
Unless of course you had the kind of muscle to back it up.
Even from day one people knew why Decker was in prison.
When a former high school football star all but tears a man apart with his bare hands, word gets around. Decker had been heading to college on a scholarship, too. The news had gone national.
People had come at him from day one, trying to beat him into the ground. He’d had one thing in his mind—Lizzie had cried and made him promise he’d be okay.
The only time anybody ever took him down was when they managed to corner him, four or five on one. They got tired of it after a while.
It wasn’t a bad deal, all in all. He’d gotten his ink, Luther didn’t get hassled.
The first one had been the one on his hand.
He’d made Lizzie promise him she wouldn’t blame herself, but he knew she did. It was okay, because she couldn’t help it. She had a soft heart and that soft heart was part of why he loved her, why he always had. She was everything he’d never known, growing up in a roachbox of a house, dodging his drunken father’s flying fists almost from the time he could walk.
She was sunshine and sweetness and all things soft and kind.
And she owned him.
That was his promise to her. Here, tucked in the palm of his hand where he’d kept it hidden from her and the world, was his promise.
She owned him.
And on Friday, he’d have to finally confess that to her.
• • •
“You’re having a lot of fun.”
Guiltily, Elizabeth looked up as Noel dropped into the seat next to hers at the little two-top she’d taken over at the back of her shop. She needed to go out and get lunch, but she hadn’t had a chance, as busy as they’d been.
She was making do with a giant cup of coffee and a breakfast Panini that hadn’t sold.
And instead of going over invoices, she’d been on Wanna Play .
“Hey, Noel.” She smiled at him, although the smile didn’t seem to come as easily as it once had.
“Elizabeth.” He slid his eyes over her, lingering on her hair—she’d let it dry loose, the curls flowing down past her shoulders. Then his gaze moved on down and he reached out, stroking his hand across her skirt-clad thigh. “I thought you’d gotten rid of all of these. They aren’t very flattering.”
“They’re comfortable,” she said. Something clutched her throat tight. “I bought a couple over the weekend. How are you?”
“Fine. I was thinking about seeing if you wanted to get a late lunch.” His gaze moved to her computer. “But you look…occupied. And you look like you’re enjoying it.”
Lifting a hand, she went to close the laptop. “What do you mean?”
He stopped her, turning the monitor to face him.
“Noel, don’t—”
“Hey, we agreed to this,” he said easily. “Remember? It’s part of being open. And besides…this is what I’m talking about.”
She didn’t remember agreeing to letting him read through her messages or poke around on her timeline. He reached up and tapped a message, one that had come in from Loren.
Can we go out again sometime soon? Elizabeth, I had the most amazing night. I keep thinking about your mouth. Your eyes. That body of yours…
His next message was even more explicit and she reached out,
tried again to shut the laptop.
“It sounds like you two had fun,” he said, his voice easy, but there was a bite to it. “How many times have you gone out?”
“Once.” She shrugged, kept it casual. The vein in his neck seemed to be pulsing now, no matter how easy his voice sounded.
“Hmmm.” He tapped something and she jerked her head around to see the screen.
He could be reading the
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