The Bad Boy and The Tomboy

Chapter 20: After Prom

Willem's POV:

Logan and I are lying on a bed in some random hotel. She's lying on top me with the side of her head on my chest. She's tracing over the skull tattoo absentmindedly, it felt good, like home. I smiled contently.

"So you never told me why you got this tattoo." Her voice breaks me out of my thoughts.

"It's a tribute." I tell her not giving her much information. She lifts her head to look at me, replacing her cheek with her chin.

"I mean what's the meaning behind it. I wanna know more." She smiles at me.

"It's a tribute to my Uncle Jackson." She looks in my eyes wanting to know more. I take a deep breath before I continue. "We were extremely close. He would come over almost every evening with this distinct leather jacket. Him, my father, and I would work on the Nova. He would tell me these amazing stories about racing and the gang, actually, But my parents used to tell me he was crazy. It's sad I believed em. I wish I knew the truth back then, maybe life would've been better."

She frowns as I finished my story, but it quickly changes to a smile. She plants a quick kiss to my lips.

"But I like life now." She giggles. I reach up to brush a piece of hair out of her face. She blushes. It's adorable.

"You're beautiful, you know that" Her face turns bright red from the compliment. Her hands run up and down my biceps, trying to distract herself from my stare.

"You know proms coming up" I take a sharp intake of breath. "I don't wanna go at all, but I was wondering if you had other plans?"

I release the breath that I'm was holding, That's not what I had expected. I smirk.

"No. No I didn't. The Crow, however, was gonna throw a kick ass after party for the members still in school." Her eyes light up. "Wanna go?"

"Hell yeah I wanna go, baby!" I grin leaning in to kiss her. The rest of the nights actions weren't as innocent.

Dylan Hensley could hardly believe his luck.

New to the gang life, he hadn't expected to catch a break quite so fast, but with a few racing wins, he was starting to shape up, and had even gotten himself invited to this party that was apparently being hosted by this tough guy the Crow, whoever that is.

Dylan had heard rumors about men like him, each as crazy as the last, and he was jittery with excitement. He'd never been to a party like this, either.

The few keggers he went to in his past years in high school just couldn't compare to wildness inside this house that had been turned into some sort of makeshift club for the night.

Racers, fighters, gang members, and women with long legs in tight dresses had all caught his attention, and his mind was whirling.

After a few drinks, however, he began to notice one person in particular. One it was becoming increasingly hard to take his eyes off of. He'd been watching her for a while now, as he'd settled against a back wall. There was a time or two he lost sight of her behind the crowd, but he always found her again, his eyes drawn to her body like a magnet.

A beautiful, slim brunette; she was enticingly seductive.

It seemed like there was no end to the amount of songs she could dance to, nor a limit on the different ways she could force her body to move. He couldn't see her face, but he could tell her long dark hair fell around her face, and half way down her back, as she swayed to the new beat that was pumping out of the surround sound.

The way she way dressed, he figured her makeup was dark, seductive, but he definitely knew her outfit was inviting.

A pair of black denim jeans, squeezing her long legs and a purple, backless tank top, that swirled around her neck.