If Only (13 page)

Moving from my seat, I
straighten up and reach for my helmet and gloves. “I could say the same thing
about me, don’t worry about it. I’m gonna ride behind you and see you home.”

“That’s a little off route
for you, Joe.”

“You’re not that far from
me, it’s no problem.”

She walks to me, shifts up
onto tiptoes, and hugs me. I bend forward to make it easier.
Peaches.
Tonight she smells of peaches.

 
I’m aware it was just a general hug, no different to
the ones she gave Saffron and Adam, but damn she felt good. It took every bit
of restraint not to keep her in my grasp and hold her tighter. I can imagine
how it would feel to have her hot little body wrapped around mine, and right
now, I want that more than I’ve ever wanted anything else.

She starts her bug and
reverses out of her parking space. I follow.

As we head out of the lot, I
am absolutely certain that I love Callie. I have for most of the short time
I’ve known her, I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. From the first time I
saw her, Callie captivated me in a way no other woman ever had before.

Even the one I
thought
I
was in love with.

As I drive in the direction of my house, I can see Joe
in my side mirror. He looks sexy and mysterious in his shiny black helmet,
tinted visor down, and his black leather jacket. He’s riding a Honda Fireblade,
the color of a cloudless midnight sky.
My protector.
 

I love Joe, I know that for
sure. It’s not ideal, and it’s not okay, but it’s the truth. I’m now facing up
to feelings that were intense from the start and have only deepened with each
passing week and every word we’ve exchanged.

I love Joe.

It’s still complicated and
just as confusing, because I don’t doubt what I feel for Nick. It seems like
Joe’s invaded my heart, without permission, and squeezed in there, too.

I knew when I got with Nick
that I wanted us to go the distance and over time, I fell in love with him.
It’s like I got to choose falling for him.

I did not ask, want, or
expect to fall for Joe. But I have.

The truth is, even if I
wasn’t with someone else, I still couldn’t be with Joe. A girlfriend,
commitment, isn’t something he wants in his life, and that would still be the case
even if I was unattached. So, either way, a friend is the most we’d ever have
been to each other.

It’s the most we will ever
be.

Acknowledgment of that will
make things easier. I can do the buddy thing with him and continue to be with
Nick in the way I would have been, had I never met Joe.

Maybe it’s not so
complicated after all.

I park on the street,
outside my house, and Joe stops behind my car. Once I gather up my stuff from
the backseat, I approach him. He lifts his visor, revealing his eyes. They’re
the hardest thing to look at, even on a dark street with only artificial light.
I’m certain it will get easier over time, but right now those coffee beans are
intense, warm and damn right demanding. I know he only has to glance at a woman
to lure her into bed. And that’s just his eyes, they say it all. He doesn’t
need words – Joe Williams is devastating, and I don’t doubt that, even with my
morals, if I’d met him single, I’d have let him have me right there on his
table the day he pierced my nipples. Assuming he’d have wanted to, that is.

“Thanks for escorting me
back.” A slight nervousness I didn’t experience back at the parking lot starts
to take hold. I’m doing my best to hide any physical evidence of my nerves and
my attraction to him, both of which seem to have become more profound now that
I’ve faced up to the way I feel. I’ll have to become skilled at hiding my
reactions until my feelings change, I’m sure they will over time.

I take comfort in him not
knowing.

“It’s cool.” 

“Well, you know exactly
where I live now, so I’ll contact you about dinner.” I see his smile in his
eyes, just before he slides his visor down.

When I get to my front door,
I glance back, we wave at each other, and I go inside.

I’m aware that it’s because
of my guilty conscience and my sudden need for reassurance; I call Nick as soon
as I get in. It’s late, but he answers, and I’m instantly soothed by his voice.

Nick is the man for me.

I’m sitting outside the coffee shop, enjoying some
tobacco and my early afternoon caffeine fix, when Adam waves at me from
BlackArt. I knock back the last of my espresso, stub out my cigarette, and head
over to him.

“This lady here wants you to
check out the tat I just finished.”

“Why?”

He shrugs his shoulders.
“Dunno, man.”

I go into the studio, and
there’s a red-head at the far end, straddling a chair, with her back to me.
She’s had a naked green and gold fairy tattooed on her lower back, at the sexy
part, between the two dimples either side of her spine.

Stopping behind her, I bend
over and check it out.
“Very nice.
Do ya like it?” I
ask her, having no idea why she wanted me to see it. My brother’s work is never
a disappointment.

“Yes, I love it,” she says, in
a voice as smooth as satin, effortlessly seductive. “I just wanted to know what
you think.”

“It looks good, suites you.
Adam explained the after care and all, I trust?”

“Yes, but I have one last
thing to ask.” She twists her upper body around, to see me properly, her hazel
gaze meeting mine. “Can I still fuck?” Ah, I see where this is going.

Maintaining a serious
expression, I respond. “Yes, of course. You’ll want to be careful with some
positions, to avoid scratching or friction on your tattoo, and also beware of
sweat and other bodily fluids getting on it.”

“In that case, you better
take my number.”

And as simple as that, my
Thursday night is set. I do have to laugh at that nice approach. The sexy
red-head, Geraldine, leaves me with her number and a request that I meet her at
eight, at a bar I’ve never been to before, but will gladly go to.

I love how forward women can
be, especially as they mature. My guess is that Geraldine is in her early
thirties and successful in almost every aspect of her life, but for whatever
reason, she’s still single. I made sure of that before she left.

After finishing my final
client, I go home, shower, and change into a short sleeve black button-down
shirt, charcoal colored jeans, and my boots.

The place is swanky, just as
I expected it would be. Geraldine is already here, sitting on a stool at the
end of the bar. Her little black dress and deep-fiery hair, travelling halfway
down her back, contrast with her flawless pale skin and complement it nicely.

I approach and order a Jack
on the rocks and whatever Geraldine is drinking, some kind of cocktail. We say
nothing to each other, I remain standing with my hands braced atop the bar and
look at her. She holds my gaze, and right now the foreplay has begun. The
sweetness of her perfume has me imagining smelling it directly from her skin
and her lipstick-pink lips say more than any words can.

The bartender places our
beverages down in front of us. Geraldine pays a lot of attention to my hands,
watching me handling my cash as I get the tab. I thank the guy, and my female
company thanks me. Deciding to tease her, I move to her ear and tell her,
“You’ll be thanking me a lot tonight.” I knock back some of the double shot,
loving the familiar sweet warmth working its way down my throat. 

She smiles. “How old are
you, Joe?” Her voice is sure and even more seductive than earlier in BlackArt.

“Twenty-nine.”

“You’re a confident young
man, aren’t you?”

I always find ladies like
Geraldine to carry themselves with a lot of class and elegance. She’s all
women, with a slim but curvaceous figure. Her face is naturally pretty with
penetrating, hazel eyes. She’s like a real life Jessica Rabbit! She’ll be
spoiled for choice, where men are concerned, and I know she only wants fun with
someone like me, which makes us perfect for each other. My tattoos sometimes
scream “bad boy” or “tough guy” for this type of lady, without me coming across
as overly intimidating. Something about having angels on my skin seems to
assist in that.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” 

“I wouldn’t be here if I
did.” She raises her ruby colored cocktail to taste, and my attention gets
stolen by her mouth. I get up close and tell her, “I want you on your knees
with my cock in your mouth.” No sense in time wasting.

Her pink lips curl up at the
corners in unspoken agreement. Maintaining eye contact with me, she gets up off
of her stool and turns to walk out.

We arrive at her place, a
couple of blocks from the bar, and the moment I walk through the front door she
has me up against the wall. Her mouth glued to mine, she reaches over and hits
the lights. There’s nothing sweet or loving about our kiss, it’s passionate and
aggressive – clashing teeth, biting lips – and appropriate for two people
who’ll fuck like crazy tonight and then never see each other again.

Moaning as she makes her way
to my neck, she has my shirt unbuttoned and off me in no time. Greedy, greedy,
Geraldine, I do like her. “What a body, Joe,” she says, with her feather light
touch running up and down my arms. “I see you workout.” She looks like she
wants to eat me, which, of course, I do not object to.

Without a second’s
hesitation, she drops to her knees and starts tracing kisses across the skin
above the waistband of my jeans. With my eyes closed, my head falls back
against the wall. The condo is silent, enhancing the metal clinking of my belt
buckle, the flick of my button, and the slow release of my zipper.

“Fuck.” I feel her wet heat
on the tip of my dick. Her palm enclosing me at the base of my shaft, she teases
me with light suction and circular strokes with her tongue. Our synchronized
heavy breathing fills the silence now. Sliding my fingers in among her silken
strands, I grasp her hair as she works her way down my shaft, inch-by-inch,
taking me all the way to the back of her throat, and a little farther. “Oh,
fuck, damn.” Retreating, she sucks and her moan vibrates through my cock and up
my spine. “Sonofabitch,” I mutter. Now I’m pulling on those fiery-strands
tighter, which only encourages her to moan more and suck harder.

Holding my hips and
engulfing my full length with a fierce enthusiasm, this woman loves giving
head. And, damn, good head game can bring a man to his fucking knees. Keeping a
firm grasp on her tresses, I spear her mouth and before I know it I’m close to
spilling into her throat. “I’m gonna come, decide what you wanna do about
that,” I tell her. Fucking hell, she sucks harder, faster, my cock spasms, a
harsh curse ripping out through my gritted teeth. She gracefully drinks it all
down and doesn’t stop sucking me off until the final spasm passes.

She stands up, meeting my
gaze, her tongue swiping across her shiny lips. “Thank you, Joe.” Geraldine is
more than willing to play along, and I am more than willing to give her many
reasons to say, “Thank you!”

With my hold on her slender
waist, I draw Geraldine to me. “Where’s your bedroom?”

She leads the way into a
large room with a four-poster bed taking pride of place against the wall to the
left. Passionate feeling red and brown dominate and the smell of her perfume
lingers still. I don’t doubt those crimson sheets are real
silk
.

Pausing for a moment, I
watch her slip out of her dress, which slithers down her body and forms a pool
of satin at her feet. All that remains is her black lace underwear, perfect for
her divine curves. As she steps out of her stilettos, I approach from the rear,
pressing myself against her. My attention is, temporarily, snatched by a large,
wall-mounted, full-length mirror. Guiding Geraldine from behind, I usher her
over to it.

She makes eye contact with
me through her reflection, the top of her head reaching my chin. Hooking my
thumbs into the sides of her panties, I lower them, and she kicks them off to the
side when they reach the bottom. I unfasten and remove her bra, revealing full
breasts and tight, pale pink nipples. After bracing her hands against the wall,
either side of the ornate gold frame, my right leg between hers, I silently
command a wider stance from her. Once I pull Geraldine’s hips back, I have a
full view and easy access to the exquisiteness between her legs, bare of hair
and glistening with arousal. I’m already hard again.

With my finger tips, I skim
up the backs of her thighs and over her slick lower lips, at which point she
releases a long sigh. “So wet already,” I mutter to myself. I continue to float
over her flesh, the curves of her butt, inner thighs, and then I slide my
middle finger into her pussy. Moaning, she pushes back against me as I press
deeper, stroking, slowly finger fucking her as her honey coats my hand.

Condom on, I bury my cock in
her welcoming, moist heat. Grasping her hips, holding her in place, I withdraw
and drive deep into her. “Ah, fuck, yes,” she cries, and the male-ego in me
wants to hear more of that.