Clipped Wings (31 page)

I ran a hand up his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. In some ways, Hayden was just as fragile as me. “In case you were wondering, you’re the only one I want.”

A slow grin formed, cocky with a hint of relief. “You look tired. Did you sleep okay last night?”

“Not really.”

“Me neither. My bed felt empty.”

He braced a hand on the counter behind me and dropped a lingering kiss on my lips. When he straightened, he snuck a finger under the strap around my neck, following it down to where it met the apron bodice. “I like this.” It was blue with pink piping, covered in a cupcake print. Of course he liked it.

“What a surprise.”

“Can you turn around for me?”

“Why?”

“I want to check my art.”

“Oh.” I turned away from the mischievous glint in his eye hoping he couldn’t see my disappointment.

“What did you think I was going to do?” he asked. His hands settled on my hips and moved lower, covering the scar on the outside of my thigh.

“I don’t know.” Get me naked and take me from behind. We hadn’t done it that way yet.

“You don’t know, or you don’t want to say?”

When I stayed silent, he chuckled. “Please tell me you would never leave your apartment in these.” His finger glided along the hem of my shorts, grazing the curve of my backside.

“They cover all the important parts.”

“Barely.”

The ache between my thighs flared. “Don’t tease,” I whispered.

“Sorry.” He withdrew just as he reached the place where his fingers would have been most welcome.

The strangest emotion welled inside me; beyond desire and fear, quiet rage filtered through. I didn’t know what the impetus for it was. I only knew that if Hayden touched me the way I needed him to, it would go away.

“This looks good so far. Does it hurt much?” he asked as he traced the border of the design.

“I took something for it this morning,” I said. Even with the painkiller it hurt a lot, more around the scarred areas.

“It needs to be washed. I should have done it last night. I can take care of it now,” he said softly.

When I turned to face him, he looked repentant. I didn’t know what for, but if he needed forgiveness, there were other ways he could achieve it. “I have something else I would rather you take care of first.”

His throat bobbed with a nervous swallow. “Such as?”

I palmed the back of his neck. He resisted, conflict heavy in the slant of his brow.

“Please?” All my uncertainties funneled into the singular desire for him.

He ducked his head, lips light on mine, still holding back. “You taste sweet.”

He sucked on my bottom lip and cupped my cheek in his palm, his touch and his kiss gentle. I leaned into him, feeling the thick ridge of his erection against my stomach. He might not want to give in, but his body had other ideas. What I was about to do would make him crack.

“I made cupcakes.” I reached blindly to the side and felt for the edge of the mixing bowl. “And icing. Want a taste?”

I swiped at the rim of the bowl, gathering icing on my index finger before holding it up in front of him. His chest rose and fell, control slipping as he glared at me with something akin to helplessness. Resistance shattered, Hayden latched onto my wrist. My finger disappeared between his lips up to the second knuckle. I felt the press of teeth and the sweep of his tongue, followed by the hard metal of his tongue ring.

He released me with a loud, wet pop. “It’s fucking amazing.”

“You like it?” I asked, feeling an odd sense of pride.

“ ‘Like’ would be an understatement.”

Hayden reached behind me, dipping into the mixing bowl. He pressed on my bottom lip, watching with fascinated desire as his thumb slipped inside my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the soft pad and the smooth bed of nail. When I cleaned off the icing, I gave his thumb a hard suck, followed by a soft bite.

“Yummy.”

With an angry noise, he grabbed the back of my thighs and dropped me on the counter. His tongue invaded my mouth, the kiss aggressive even as his hand moved lightly down the outside of my thigh. “You must know what you’re doing to me,” he said, his tone full of accusation.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. It was a terrible lie. I wanted him to come apart, to match me in my unquenchable need.

He snorted in disbelief and bit my lip, sending little jolts of pain laced with erotic pleasure through me.

Running my hands through his hair, I pulled him close and wrapped my legs around his waist. I didn’t know what I thought was going to happen. He wouldn’t let it go very far, no matter how hard I pushed; my back was too tender. But I needed him in a way that didn’t make sense. It terrified me. I snaked a hand between our bodies to palm his erection anyway.

Hayden groaned, his fingers circling my wrist. “I can’t let you do that.”

It reminded me of the first time he kissed me. We’d been in this exact same position, but everything had changed since then. “Please don’t shut me down,” I begged.

He pulled away, his hands resting on my parted knees. I closed my eyes, unable to bear the humiliation. His palms moved higher until his thumbs swept along the juncture of my thighs and then under the hem of my shorts.

“I can make you feel good.” He pushed my legs wider apart. His fingers slid under the fabric and his knuckle brushed my clit. “Is that what you need me to do?”

I whimpered.

He stilled. “Is it?”

“Yes.” I held my breath, almost expecting him to withdraw with my admission. Hayden exhibited such staunch convictions that I never anticipated him actually giving in. I was sure there would be repercussions.

He kissed me again. It wasn’t as hard this time, but it was equally possessive. “Tell me you need this. Tell me you need me.”

“I need you.” We were united in our craving for each other. His desire was just as overwhelming as mine.

He made slow passes, barely grazing the sensitive skin as he watched his hand move under the cotton. He went lower, two fingers pushing inside, curling up and in, in a slow, even rhythm. His free hand wrapped around my ponytail and he angled my head to the side so he could kiss me and still see what he was doing.

I put my hand over his, wanting him to go deeper, harder. With every twist of his fingers he drove me closer to the edge. I arched into his touch and he palmed the back of my neck, keeping me close. I strained against him, my legs trembling, heat building and rising.

While it wasn’t the same as having him inside me, it was enough. It wasn’t just the physical gratification I wanted; it was the intimacy. I didn’t know how else to have the closeness I so desperately longed for. I clung to his shoulders as sensation expanded to consume me. Clenching around his fingers, I moaned into his mouth.

“I love watching you come,” he whispered, his kiss soft once again.

I mumbled incoherently and sagged against him, working to regain control of my limbs. I rested my head on his shoulder, wanting to maintain the connection for as long as possible. Even after the orgasm I still didn’t feel sated. I needed more from him. The tattoo, while cathartic, as Hayden said it would be, also tore open barely healed wounds. I was looking for a way to soothe the endless ache in my chest. Up until now Hayden had filled the empty part of me, but in the wake of the outline, new holes had developed.

“Did I make it better?” Hayden asked quietly.

I nuzzled into his neck and nodded, wishing we could stay like this forever.

“Are you sure we need to wait a week?” Tenley’s knees pressed against my hips, squeezing. At least her hands hadn’t migrated south again.

“I’m sure. A week will be just long enough that I won’t have to worry about going too easy on you.” There went my mouth, working before my brain again.

I shouldn’t have been entertaining ideas of taking Tenley over the kitchen counter when her ink was barely twelve hours old, but it gave me a diversion from addressing the real issues, and Tenley seemed to want the distraction, too.

Instead of acting on the barrage of explicit fantasies running through my head, I lifted Tenley off the counter, careful to avoid the tattoo. It took her a few seconds to find her footing. She looked tired and her eyes were glassy. I sensed she was hurting and didn’t want me to know. It would be just like her to marinate in the pain.

Now that Sarah had told me the extent of Tenley’s accident, I couldn’t undo the knowledge. If Tenley had just lost her parents in the crash, I would have had faith that she could get past it. But her circumstances were much more extreme. I understood the nightmares now. The energy it would take to get out of bed every day and face the world would be nearly insurmountable.

I wasn’t stupid enough to make her talk about it today. Not after watching her fall apart last night or seeing how she was managing this morning. She wasn’t in any state to cope with an intense, truthful conversation.

Besides, I was concerned about what Sarah might have told her. So far it looked like the only problem I had was Sienna. Unfortunately, she was a big fucking problem. After my temper tantrum at Inked Armor, she would definitely be back to torment me some more. I still wasn’t keen on explaining her to Tenley, but I couldn’t avoid the topic indefinitely. I needed time to plan what I was going to tell her.

I watched Tenley putter around the kitchen, preparing to decorate her cupcakes. It was serious business. When I tried to dip a finger into the bowl of fluffy white heaven, she smacked my hand and wrinkled her nose.

“That’s disgusting. Wash your hands!”

“You let me do it earlier.”

“But that was before your hands were—” She motioned to herself and then to me.

“Oh, right. Because pussy-flavored icing is only really appealing to me,” I said, just to get a rise out of her. It worked.

Tenley pointed her spatula at me, her face turning the color of poppies. “Stop it! That’s just . . . ew!”

Sarah barged in before I could reply, which was probably a good thing. She was holding two cups of coffee. Her smile dropped when she saw me. “What a surprise. Sorry, I only have two hands.” She gave me a look that told me she wouldn’t have brought me a damn thing even if she’d had three hands.

“That’s cool. I brought coffees for all of us,” I replied as I gestured to the forgotten to-go cups.

“Oh, that was . . . nice of you.” She seemed flustered.

As though being covered in tattoos and steel made me incapable of courteous behavior.

“You’ll need to reheat it, I’ve been here for a while.” I cracked the lid on my coffee and smiled over the lip. It was barely lukewarm.

Using a mug from Tenley’s cupboard, I dumped in the contents of my take-out coffee and put it in the microwave. Forty-three seconds later, my coffee was steaming again. I leaned against the counter, noting the awkwardness that came with Sarah’s presence. Tenley seemed nervous, and I could only hypothesize that having us both in the same space was the cause.

When Tenley finished putting icing into funnel-shaped bags, she tested the cupcakes. Apparently they were still too warm, so she excused herself to the bathroom.

As soon as she disappeared, I turned to Sarah. “How was her night?”

“Not great. She was restless, and she kept asking for you.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I would have come back.”

“She was talking in her sleep.”

“You still could have called. How was she this morning? What did you tell her?” I glanced over at the bathroom. I couldn’t hear water running yet, so I still had time for questions.

“She was okay. She doesn’t remember much. If you’re asking if I told her how you got your shining rep at my work, I didn’t share what I’ve heard.”

“Seriously?”

“I didn’t do it for you.” She sipped her coffee, glaring at me from over the rim. “I’m on the fence about whether or not I should trust you. I kept my mouth shut because she can’t handle that kind of crap unloaded on her. I won’t say anything unless you give me a reason to do otherwise.”

“I promise I’ll take care of her.”

“So will I,” she countered.

I was fortunate Sarah seemed perceptive enough not to push Tenley’s limits. If we only shared common ground on one thing, caring about Tenley seemed a good place to start.

“If you mean that, you won’t get her high again.”

“It was just a little green.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “From what I’ve heard, it’s nothing compared to what you’ve done.”

“I haven’t touched that shit in years. I assume you’re getting your goods from Damen.” Her lack of response was enough. “You don’t want to get involved with him. He laces his product, and Tenley’s already got a cabinet full of prescriptions from the accident. I don’t need her developing any problematic habits.” Based on the contents of the cabinet, I couldn’t be sure she didn’t already have one, but I wasn’t going to confide that to Sarah.

She looked shocked, and a little guilty, which was good. “I didn’t think about that.”

“Obviously not.”

The bathroom door opened, and Tenley came out, moving like an eighty-year-old.

“I should go. I’ve got assignments to work on,” Sarah said as Tenley returned to the kitchen.