Wildfire (Men of Inked: Heatwave Book 3) by Bliss Chelle

Author:Bliss, Chelle [Bliss, Chelle]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Bliss Ink LLC
Published: 2020-03-02T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

“So.” James hasn’t taken his eyes off me, and by the way he’s holding the fork in his hand, I’m pretty sure he wants to jam it right into my eye.

“So,” I say back, staring across the table at the man I’ve known for years and always thought was a friend.

“This is so weird,” James’s wife, Izzy, whispers at his side, moving the food around on her plate like she’s not sure what to do. I’ve seen the woman almost completely naked and never expected to be sitting at the dinner table across from her. “Isn’t it?”

The room has emptied. Everyone finished their food and is cleaning up, except for the six of us. James, Izzy, Tamara, me, and her parents. Awkward is an understatement. Weird doesn’t even begin to cover what the mood in the room is.

“Let me get this straight…” Anthony, Tamara’s dad, says, rubbing his chin as he narrows his eyes. “You go to those kinky-ass sex clubs and sleep with total strangers to get your freak on.”

Those words have James and Izzy stiffening. The fork could now easily go toward Anthony and not just me.

“Do you honestly think everyone is fucking each other? That it’s just some crazy-ass orgy?” James asks Anthony, finally not giving me the death glare.

Anthony shrugs. “Listen, we’ve been in a few to watch. I’m not a total idiot, James. I’ve seen what goes down there. It’s hard enough for me to think of my sister in a place like that with her husband, but to think of my daughter…”

“Hold up,” Tamara says, pushing her plate to the side before resting her hands on the table. “I’ve never been to a sex club. Let’s get that straight right now.”

All eyes are on her, including mine. This is her family. Her time. Her information to give or hold on to and not my place to make shit worse for her.

“Well, thank God for small miracles,” her mother whispers, running her hand across her thick black hair.

“I’m also not a virgin,” Tamara announces. “Haven’t been for a long time.”

If I could crawl under the table, I fuckin’ would. What kind of family has an open conversation about sex like this? Sure as fuck not mine.

“Motherfucker,” Tamara’s father curses, tipping his head back to look at the ceiling when he does it.

“Oh, please,” Tamara says, pursing her lips. “You were a complete and total manwhore, Dad. I know all about your days in the band, banging your way around Tampa Bay. By the time you were twenty-one like me, how many women had you slept with?”

I rock back in my seat, and Tamara’s hand moves to my knee, locking on to me. I’m captive, forced to stay here, witnessing one of the most uncomfortable conversations of my entire life. But I do it. I stay. For her.

“We’re not talking about me,” he replies, waving her off, dismissing her question.

“Because you’re a man,” she challenges him, cocking her head to the side, staring him down.

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