He chuckles softly against my neck. “No apology needed, baby. Just a promise, all right? And you know I’ll make it worth your while.”
I smile, and those shards of heat turn all electric inside my pussy. I glance down, see his right hand splayed on my stomach. See my name there. For good. For always. The thing screams up at me. The dude loves you, idiot. Stop with the cold play and tell him how you feel. Tell him just how crazy he makes you. How weak and vulnerable you feel when you guys aren’t together.
I sink back into him, gently grind my ass against his dick.
“Awwww, damn,” he says on a quick intake of breath. “Can’t. Fucking want to so bad. But can’t.” He turns me around and kisses me hard and hungry. When he pulls back, he looks like a sullen teenager. “I have a short day today at the shop, but I have to go in early.”
I give him my most seductive look, which is really just a sort of pout-plus-eyelash-batting thing. I’m pretty sure it’s not very effective. “You sure?”
He kisses my nose. “We have a guest artist. She’s booked all day, and I need to open up and do the owner thing.”
“Does she do tats?”
“Piercings.”
“Oh. I might like that. Maybe my nose or my eyebrow.”
For a second, I swear I see a flicker of panic cross his features, but then I blink and it’s gone. I chew my lip thoughtfully. “Course I do need to go on interviews after graduation. Maybe I should wait.”
He nods. “You should always think through any changes to the body.” His brows lift a fraction and he whispers, “Especially your body.”
I reach down for his hand, the right one, and lift it up for us both to see. “Did you think this through, Rush?”
He doesn’t look at it—his hand or my name. His eyes are locked to mine, and they’re pretty heavy with affection. “Every damn day you weren’t with me, baby.”
This is it. The perfect moment, if that even exists. To tell him. Right now, while we’re stuck together and our stomachs are making strange-ass noises because we haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. But I don’t want to rush things either. I know he’s got to go. But—and this is really inside my head now—I also know he’s coming back.
His hand still in mine, I lead him over to the table. “Sit down. You gotta eat before you go.”
“Fine.” He watches as I fill up his plate, then grabs a fork. But when he notices I don’t take the seat beside him, he frowns. “Aren’t you hungry, baby?”
I nod. “Starving.”
“Then come.”
As he stuffs a piece of naan into his mouth, I pull my t-shirt up over my head, then toss it somewhere behind me. Fork in hand, Rush stares at me, watches me as I walk over to his chair and kneel down in front of him.
“The only one coming this morning is you,” I say, slipping my fingers into the waistband of his black boxers and easing them down just enough so that I can take care of business.
As I wrap my fingers around his cock, I glance up at him. His nostrils are flared, and the veins in his neck, even under all that ink, are popping. But he’s still holding the fork. I lean in and run my tongue from thick base to wet tip.
“Think you can do two things at once, Merrick?” I ask, then take him slow and deep into my mouth.
“Fuck,” he groans as metal fork hits hardwood floor. “No.”
Rush
Erica Day is like a cross between Kat Von D and Scarlett O’Fucking Hara, and once upon a time I thought she might be the girl for me. We had a ton in common, same biz, same taste in music, good for a laugh. I even opened up to her a little. Told her about the girl who had owned me once upon a time, then shattered my heart. Told her about the vanilla asshole, the Campbells, the dance and how I ran off afterward. But instead of letting me just vent and offering a few ‘She missed outs’ Erica talked about it all the damn time. Questions, questions, questions. It drove me nuts. It drove me away. So needless to say, even though it’s been three years, I’m thinking that keeping her and Ads apart might be a good idea.
“I’m rocking a nipple piercing in five, ya’ll,” Erica twangs. “And no, Vincent, you can’t go in and ‘check that shit out.’”
Hanging out behind the front desk, I glance up from the books. V, Janie and Erica are all chill in the reception area. I got one more canvas and then I’m outie, off to be with my girl. Right now, Addison is driving around in one of my cars, picking up food for tonight. Said she wants to cook me dinner before she leaves, and I’m thinking that’s going to be the perfect time to slip her my extra key and ask her if she’ll move here and use it on a daily basis. I’m nervous as fuck she’ll say no. She’s got that whole life back in Cali. A place, a best friend, maybe even a job hook-up. Will she be cool about starting over—no, starting fresh—here with me?
“Hey, Miss Day.” V gets up from the couch and hustles over to me. He rolls his eyes. “I just offered to help. Sometimes a girl can use an extra pair of hands.”
“True,” Erica concedes, giving Janie a quick wink.
How such different chicks bonded so quickly, I’ll never know. Janie is a hard-ass ink master with a 1950s style and legs completely covered in tats. Erica, on the other hand, is soft spoken, free of ink, a natural blond, and dresses like a conservative Southern belle, though we all know she’s got about ten piercings underneath.
“And by the way, Miss Day,” Vincent calls out to Erica, elbowing me in the ribs like he thinks he doesn’t have my complete attention. “If it’s possible, you’re even hotter now than back when you were banging Rush.”
Janie purses her ruby-red lips at him. “You’re such a heathen, Vincent.”
He nods, smirks. “Thanks.”
“Oh, Vincent, you haven’t changed,” Erica says, then slides her brown gaze to me. “But what about our friend here? Rush Merrick. The tall, handsome, tatted-up and not-very-chatty owner of Wicked Ink. Has he changed since all that banging occurred?”
Vincent laughs. “Fuck yeah, he has.”
Her pale brows drift up. “Really? How?”
“Dude’s got a serious girlfriend.”
Her casual back and forth gives way to a moment of actual interest. “Is that right, Rush?”
I nod.
“So true love has finally bitten you in the ass.”
Her southern drawl is kind of grating on the old eardrums. Never noticed that before. “Not the ass, no.”
Her eyes remain locked with mine. “Good. Glad to hear it, doll. You deserve it after that mess way back when.” She winks. “See. I don’t forget, honey.”
“Forget what?” Vincent asks, looking from one of us to the other. “What mess?”
“V, you’re drooling on the desk,” Janie says, smoothing down that elaborate pin-up girl hairstyle she loves so much.
Vincent ignores her. “What happened? I need to know or I won’t sleep tonight.”
Janie laughs. “You’re such an idiot, V.”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t want to know, J,” he returns with a faux sneer.
Ignoring them both, Erica asks me, “So, do I get to meet her?”
“Nope.”
“Why’s that, honey? She a jealous little kitten?”
I’m really trying to remember what the fuck I saw in this chick when the front door opens and a client walks through it. She’s got a row of small rings through one eyebrow and both nostrils pierced. Halle-fucking-luyah.
I turn back to Erica. She’s still watching me with way too much interest.
“Someone here to see you, Miss Day,” I say with a touch of the gruff. “Don’t want to keep her waiting.”
Addison
Lisa: he kissed me