Imperfectly Bad
Authors: A. E. Woodward
Imperfectly Bad
Copyright © 2014 by A. E. Woodward
Cover Design by Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations
Editing by Ryn Hughes, Delphi Rose
Interior design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.
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I hand the scary looking guy my fake ID and hold my breath. It’s pretty crummy, but I can’t complain since it only set me back
$25. Jenny knew a guy, who knew a guy.
The big dude looks down at the ID and back up at me. I know he knows it’s a fake but he obviously doesn’t give a shit, handing it back and nodding for me to follow him. I follow him behind the curtain and sit in a ragged, black, dentist-like chair.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asks quietly once I settle back into the chair.
I look at her smiling and grab her hand. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
“So what are you getting?” the tattooist asks while prepping his station.
“I want her name, Jenny, in script.”
The guy looks over his glasses at me while he tinkers with his tattoo gun. “You sure, bro? You look awful young to be doing something like that.”
I look over at her and I know. I know I will never love anyone else like I love her. She’s all I ever think about. I don’t give a shit what anybody says—Jenny is all I’ll ever want. She’s my world. Now and forever.
Always.
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
“All right.” The man shrugs. “I’m assuming you want it in black.”
“Yep.”
He messes around with his gun some more and it starts buzzing in response.
“And where do you want it?” he asks, tightening a screw on the side.
I roll my sleeve up and point to my bicep. “Right here.”
The gun falls silent as she leans down and kisses me on the cheek. “You’re crazy.”
“Only about you.”
The artist laughs before he kick starts his gun again. I know he thinks I’m stupid, young, and in love—and I am—but this is so much more than that. Jenny has showed me so much in such a short amount of time and goddamn it, I’m going to marry her. Sooner rather than later.
“You ready?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
I cringe as the needles dig in, watching as the black ink is injected into my skin. Her name slowly takes shape as he fills in the letters. A smile spreads across my face as I think about waking up everyday and seeing her name etched into my skin. She will be with me always, no matter what. And that makes me happy.
It takes him all of forty minutes to etch her name into my bicep, but she’s already etched herself into my heart. When he’s done she jumps onto my lap and covers me with kisses. “I love you.”
“Right back at ya, babe.”
Digging in my back pocket, I hand over a wad of cash to pay for his hard work. The tattoo guy mumbles some semblance of a good-bye but I don’t really hear it because I can’t take my eyes off her.
“Now what are we going to do?” I ask, rolling my sleeve back down.
“I’ve got a few ideas…” She grins and my heart swells.
“That’s good, because I’ll follow you anywhere.”
Having a bunch of friends who are all in relationships, sucks.
I missed the days of Shane, Tyler and I going to bars and picking up girls. Life was so much simpler back then. Not to mention
way
more fun. Now when I went out hunting I just felt like a total slimeball. All the girls at the bars seemed too young for me, and I was slowly beginning to question the morals I’d thought I didn’t have.
I was sipping my Scotch on the rocks, just about to give up for the night when a gorgeous raven-haired beauty sat down next to me. Stealing a quick glance at her, I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was, even though she must have been barely legal. Seconds later I was locked and loaded, stealing one final look before going in for the kill.
“Why don’t you take a picture? It would last longer.”
Momentarily caught off guard, I turned my body toward her, a shit-eating grin on my face. “Well, I take notice when a beautiful specimen of a woman sits next to me.”
“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re one of
those
guys.”
“Those guys?”
“Those guys that think they’re God’s gift to women. Those”—she made air quotes with her fingers—“dudes who are so emotionally damaged that they think the only cure is to be a dick to anyone with a vagina.”
I considered my options, weighing them carefully. On one hand, I could strike this up as a loss, pay my tab, and leave. On the other, I could consider this the greatest challenge in the history of challenges.
Decisions, decisions…
My eyes did a sweep over her body and I settled on option two. This was a challenge I was willing to accept.
“If the shoe fits.” I shrugged before motioning to the bar tender. Women loved honesty. It was a sure thing. “So now that we’ve agreed that I’m scum, you want to do a shot with me?
She put on a show—acting like she was annoyed, when really she loved the attention. There wasn’t a girl in the world that wouldn’t.
She sighed. “As long as you’re buying.”
“So what’ll it be?”
I shot Raven a wink and called over to the bartender. “My friend here and I will each have a Blowjob, Charlie.”
Her nose crinkled in disgust. “You even know the bartender’s name. How pathetic.”
This girl was a bitch, with lots of bottled up hate. Not that I was bothered. So much pent up aggression would certainly lead to some great sex. Deciding to ignore her low blow, I went straight for the jugular.
Tit for tat, biotch
.
“I like your dress.”
“Thanks.”
“Nice and tight, so I can see what I’m working with. And of course you can draw much needed attention from men. Oh so pathetic.”
She glared at me, grabbing her shot from the counter. Putting my hand on her wrist, I stopped her from lifting the glass to her mouth. “Oh no, sweetheart. No hands.”
“You can’t be serious?” she bit out.
“Dead ass.”
To be a good sport, I showed her exactly what to do placing my mouth around the glass and tipping back my head. I gave a little suck to get the whipped cream out of the way and get the liquid moving.
“You’re too good at that. Anyway, isn’t that supposed to be a girly drink?”
Feisty, just like I liked them. Ironically enough, she reminded me of
her
, but I pushed those thoughts aside. It was always about forgetting her—not finding her in the girls I used.
Shrugging, I said, “I’ve watched lots of girls have Blowjobs.”
Adding in a wink for good measure, I finally got a smile from her before she leaned down, grabbed her shot glass with her lips and sucked it back in one fluid motion. Not so much as a drop escaped her mouth and I felt my dick jump in my pants. This girl definitely knew what she was doing. I couldn’t wait to get between her legs.
Once she was done, she stuck her hand out for me to shake.
“Heather.”
I took her hand, lifting it to my mouth and pressing my lips to her skin. She smelled like vanilla.
“Rob. Nice to meet you.”
