✯`*•. Beautiful Ink Playlist and Excerpt .•*´✯
by S.L. Romines
Copyright 2015-2016 S.L. Romines
My heart stops.
My breath catches.
My heart breaks all over again.
My gaze is locked on the ghost of a man that left me shattered and broken in the middle in the street five years ago. His eyes meet mine and I instantly go numb.
It can’t be him.
Anger, rage, and fury course through my veins as I look into those familiar steely eyes.
It is him.
As I open my mouth to say something, anything, the pipes rev even louder and I watch as Slade leans back a fraction and begins to remove his helmet. The shop doors behind me chime, and I’m being slapped with a dose of déjà vu when the sound of boots and heels click-clack across the sidewalk. I don’t have to turn around to know that my girls are right behind me.
Without thinking about my next actions, my feet move on their own accord, and before I realize what I’m doing my hand flies across Slade’s beautiful face with a resounding, loud crack against his cheek. Shock plays across his features and in that moment I stand a little straighter, keeping my feet firmly planted to on ground.
“Get out.” My breathing is labored as shallow breathes claw their way between my lips. Nothing and I mean nothing could have prepared me for the shit storm that is Slade Harrison. “Get the fuck out of here and go back to whatever hell you came from because you are not welcome here. Ever.”
As I take a deep breath and turn to walk away, a firm grip latches around my wrist and I am pulled flush up against hard muscle. The intoxicating scent of worn leather slithers its way up my nose, making my traitorous body react like a whore as my nipples harden and my knees weaken.
“Miss me, Low?”
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#BeautifulInk #SladeHarrison #HarlowGentry #tattoos #ink #SLRomines #OneClick
S.L. Romines lives in a small town in Central California, and if you blink you just might miss it. She resides on a ranch with her family which she lovingly refers to as the funny farm. Between getting dish pan hands, listening to three bickering teenagers, pretending that she’s a gourmet chef (her family would like to disagree), and trying to tune out the sound of twenty-seven deranged Guinea fowl, somehow she finds the time to write about crazy characters that even make her laugh till she cries.
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