More Than Lies (34 page)

“Can’t we forget it happened?”

Tugging on the soft towel with my strength, it untucks from the top before falling down her body. I release it from my hand where it joins her panties on the floor. Tara stands before me naked, beautiful; exotic and tropical with her tanned skin, wet hair, and dark eyes. Her breasts are large. I know she wears a D cup; hell I’ve lived with her for years. They are perfect. She’s perfection.

“What part would that be?” My hands glide up both sides of her smooth thighs until I settle at her waist. “The part where I fucked you with my fingers five nights ago? When I tasted every inch of you with my tongue? Or when I made love to you in my bed? Two things I might add that I’ve only done with you.”

“No.” That word comes out as a moan. “Not those.” Sliding my palms behind her, I cup her ass, and then pull her forward until her middle meets my lips. Her skin is soft, just the way I remember it. The way I’ve imaged it for the last longest five days of my life. I kiss her just as soft.

“So the part where you think I don’t want you then. Is that the part you want to us to forget?” Squeezing her ass cheeks in each hand, I flip her onto her back where she lands on the bed with me towering above her. “If my dick wants you, then I want you. Do you think the last few weeks, a couple months ago even are the only times I’ve ever wanted you? Been affected by you? It’s not.”

Her chest rises and falls in rapid paces. Her dark eyes are dilated and her skin is hot to the touch.

“What are you saying?”

“I want to fuck you right now. I want to wake up and make love to you tomorrow. Then I want to repeat that over and over and over until we don’t want to do it anymore.” Something in the back of my mind tell me that day will never come, but I don’t verbalize that thought. It scares the fuck out of me. Instead I bury my face and mouth into her neck where I kiss her. Moving to the muscle between her shoulder and neck, I bite down.

“Ahhh.” She likes it when I do this. “You have too many clothes on.”

I push up, and then straddle her. Lifting from the hem of my t-shirt, I pull it up and over my head.

“Better, baby?” She racks her eyes down my chest. With her hands, she goes for my belt bucket where she unfastens it and then pulls it from the loops.

“No, you’re still too covered up. Lose the jeans and boots. I want you as naked as I am.” She smiles, but it’s not a shy smile. There’s confidence in her eyes. I like it a whole fucking lot. She’s changed this year. She still cares too much what her parents thinks, but she isn’t the puppet she’s been in the past.

Hoping off the bed, I give her what she wants; me in absolutely nothing.

“Now we’re talking.” She rises up onto her elbows, but she isn’t looking at my face. Her eyes are zeroed in on my cock. That look is causing my already stiff shaft to harden even more. When she wets her lips, I can’t take any more. I pull out a condom from my wallet and toss it on the bed.

That was the only stop I made before coming home. After last weekend, I needed more. I knew then, somewhere in the back of my head that I’d have to have her. That night wasn’t enough and tonight won’t be either. I have no idea where this will go, but I’m not willing to let it go just yet.

Grabbing her by the leg, I yank her toward me until I’m able to latch onto her thigh. I flip her onto her belly and then pull her the rest of the way backward until her ass meets my crotch.

“Are you hungry?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Our friends are ordering pizza. I need to know if I you want it quick and hard or slow and savoring? My palm lands down on her ass with a loud smack.

“Mmmm” She pushes into me. “Rough and hard, but I don’t want this over for at least an hour, maybe longer.”

A smile crosses my lips.

We don’t make it down for dinner, but that’s okay because we fill up on each other until we’re spent.

I walk into Wicked Ink half an hour past two o’clock in the afternoon. It’s Saturday and I’m covering the receptionist for lunch. Shawn asked me if I’d come in for an hour today so I agreed. They’re always this busy on Saturday’s so I don’t know what’s different about today other than it’s my birthday and I could be sitting in my oversized comfy chair reading from my eReader. I only have hundreds of books on there just waiting for me to pause and read. I’d much rather be living out someone else’s fictional world for a few hours than my reality.

Trent gone. My brother is never coming back. You’d think I’d be happy today, that I could put that in the back of my mind just for one day and enjoy turning twenty-two. I can’t though. Trent was a huge part of my life, especially my birthdays. He made it a point to do something to make my special day, great. From the cheesy voice messages of him singing happy birthday, to the sweet single purple rose he had sent to me every year. My birthday falls on Valentine’s Day so roses aren’t a stretch, but purple is my favorite color. I’d never seen a purple rose before I received the first one my freshman year in high school. Trent has always denied he was the one that sent them to me, but I never believe him for a minute. That was the same year; the same day he started sending Kylie red roses.

So, no, instead of being at home, I’m here about to work. Well, let’s back that up; I’m about to do more work. I spent five hours this morning cleaning the wreckage I woke up to at seven this morning. Not to mention the laundry. I hate cleaning, but more than that I hate a messy house so I’m stuck. I have no choice. I have to clean.

“Hey, Nat.” I walk behind the front desk where Natalie is hanging up the phone. She looks like she partied way too hard last night. Her blue eyes are darker around the rims and she has mascara smudged underneath. She doesn’t look like she’s slept or showered. I like the girl, but gross.

“What are you doing up here today?” Did Shawn not tell her?

“Shawn asked me to cover you for lunch.” When her eyes glance in his direction, mine follow. He’s at his station, leaned over a set of legs. Looks like he inking the back of some woman’s thighs. I frown. I know I do, but I can’t help myself. Her shorts are practically nonexistent. Slut. The fact that they have to be that short for him to tattoo her properly does not take precedence over that fact that he’s eye level with her butt hanging out of the material.

“Well, okay. He didn’t mention it, but I am about to leave. See ya in an hour.” Natalie grabs her purse and walks from behind the counter toward the front door. Laughter catches my attention and I turn back toward the back where all the artists’ stations are located. That laughter came from Shawn’s table. I roll my eyes as the phone rings. Looking away, I turn around to answer it.

“Wicked Ink, this is Taralynn, how can I help you.”

“Hey baby doll.” Chance’s voice greets me. I smile. “I wasn’t expecting your bright voice on the other end of this line. I thought Miriam trained the new girl well, what are you doing answering the phone? Happy birthday by the way.”

“Mir did an excellent job with Natalie. I’m just covering her while she stepped out for lunch. Thanks for letting us borrow Miriam for a week.” Miriam works for Chance in Las Vegas. She’s his studio manager and runs the front desk too. It took Shawn longer to find a replacement for Sabrina after Trent was killed, but when he finally hired a replacement, he asked Chance if Miriam agreed, would he let her come to Mississippi for a week to train Natalie. Chance and Miriam both liked the idea and voila, two weeks later and Natalie is killing it up front and the customer’s love her.

Other than looking like she came in wearing what she wore the night before, she is great. Her customer service skills are awesome. She has an extroverted personality and can talk to anyone. She doesn’t sport any ink work on her arms, but she has a dragon covering her back with one paw hanging over her shoulder and it’s tail wrapped around her legs. It’s pretty neat.

“You’re welcome, doll. We’re both glad we could help Braden out. Tell him I’ll catch him later. I only called to see how well the new chick answered the phone and if Miriam’s training was retained. I’ll take your word that it was. Later sweet, girl.”

“Later, Chance. Tell Eve I said hey.”

“Will do.” I hang up the phone. When I turn around, my bitch-o-meter dials up a notch thanks to Slutty McShanks-alot squeezing on Shawn’s arm. He’s finished the tattoo and they are standing. I guess she likes the job he did.

Shawn pulls his arm slyly away from her grip. I’ll give him this he does look uncomfortable.

As if feeling eyes on him, he looks in my direction. His eyes grow bigger as if he thinks he’s been caught. He’s not technically mine, so he doesn’t really have a reason to think that. I’m probably just reading too much into that look. I turn away.

Less than a minute later I feel a presence behind me and then I see Shawn’s client standing on the other side of the counter in front of me. She isn’t looking at me. She’s blatantly staring and shooting him a flirtatious smile. Didn’t she have enough time to get all of that out when she was lying on his table? Tramp.

“Tara will take care of you.” Shawn brushes his hand over my hip, squeezes, and then walks away. She watches him the whole freakin’ time. I quickly scan the appointment log to find out how much she owes.

“That’ll be seven hundred and fifty bucks.” She finally looks my way. After pulling out her credit card, I scan it through the card reader. This is a new addition to the business. The studio is no longer cash only.

“So do you know if he’s seeing anyone?” She nods in Shawn’s direction.

Be polite, Taralynn. Be polite.

“He’s not the dating type, honey.” That’s true. Shawn and I have been sorta seeing each other for over a month. We have sex. That’s all it is. Great, awesome, phenomenal, I can’t get enough of him sex, but just sex. Only sex. We aren’t dating. He made it clear weeks back when we returned from Tupelo that he didn’t want anyone to know we were sleeping together. Talk about a crusher.

“Well, now, I’m not opposed to a little fun. Maybe I’ll see him around then.” Her eyes brighten then she turns and walks away after retrieving her credit card from my hand.

Happy birthday, me.

“Happy birthday.” Shawn perches his elbow onto the glass countertop and leans into it. I look over. There’s only about a foot of distance between us.

“You told me that this morning before I got out of bed.” Oh the memory.

“I said it when my mouth was on your pussy. It doesn’t count.” He smirks. That smile and those eyes; I have to look away. Glancing down, I scan the appointment calendar looking for Shawn’s next client. Hmmm…

“Your schedules blocked off, but it doesn’t say who your next client is.”

“She’s already here.” I look up, there is no one waiting in any chair. Turning my head, I look Shawn in the eyes.

“Where?” Seriously, who the heck is he going to tattoo? A ghost?

“I’m looking at her, babe.”

“Me?” His eyebrow lifts. “I’m not following.”

“I want to give you a birthday present. I want to ink you and I want you to allow me to do it and let it be a surprise.” He’s joking right? “You trust me don’t you?”

“Yes.” I do, but to permanently ink me without me seeing the design. That’s crazy. That’s messed up. No one in their right mind would let anyone do that to them. He’s lost his damn mind. “No way!”

“Come on.”

“I’m not opposed to another tattoo. I’d love one in fact” Cosmo was spot on. They are addicting. Once you get past the week of non-stop itching, you forget about any misery associate with getting a tattoo and you want another. “But I want to see it first.”

He looks at me like I just burst his bubble.

Sooorry. Too bad, buddy.

He huffs air out through his noise.

“At least let me put the transfer on, then you can look and decide. Will that work?”

“Yeah.” I’m excited. “So we’re doing this now?”

“After you.” He holds his arm out, silently telling me to walk toward his table. I do so with a little pep in my step.

After he cleans my skin and dries it, Shawn applies the transfer. When he finishes, he pulls the paper off and quickly balls it up before I can see. Shawn looks at me. His eyes tell me, he’s nervous. He shouldn’t be. I know the design will be beautiful. All of his work is amazing. I have no doubts that I’ll love it, but there was no way I could go through with it without seeing it first.

“Can I look?”

“I guess.” Is he sweating? Shawn Braden? Okay, today just became bizarre. I hop up and swing my legs to the ground so I can stand. Taking a step toward the mirror, I raise my arm.

Shawn’s placed the soon-to-be tattoo on the underside of my left bicep.

What I see in the mirror has confusion and tears springing to my eyes. It’s the rose. The purple one. The transfer displays one single rose not quite in full bloom, with a stem and a ribbon. The ribbon says, ‘Beautiful’, in pretty scripted font. The reason I don’t understand is because I’ve never told anyone what the ribbon on the attached to the rose said. Only the sender and I would know. Right?

“You don’t like it?” His voice is soft. Disappointment is etched in it.

“It’s beautiful. I love it more than the one on my hip, but how? How did you know about it?” Did Trent tell him? Did he see the rose without me knowing?