Perfect Collision (15 page)

He shifted his hand, and when I felt him inside my panties something hit me. I was dripping wet! I froze, and he noticed.

“I'll keep it outside the panties.”

“No!” I didn't want that, but... I wasn't sure how to tell him. “It's just, I'm really wet.”

“Yeah?” He sounded pleased, and I opened my eyes. He
looked
pleased, too.

“You
like
that?”

“Do I like that I turn you on? Fuck yeah, Katze, I like it. It also makes me rock hard.” He smiled. “So it's okay?”

I nodded, and when his hand went inside my panties, I took a deep breath. He hugged me tighter, and I put my arms around him to keep him close. I wanted him close; I needed something to hold on to. When his fingers teased my opening, I made another weird, like, whimpering sound.

“Oh, baby,” he mumbled against my neck. “Fuck, you feel good.”

Soon I couldn't even tell what he was doing down there. The entire area was just aching, but in a decidedly good way. It didn't feel anything like when I did it myself. I couldn't even think about anything but the throbbing between my legs.

When he pushed me to lie on my back, I hardly noticed it. Not until I felt his lips around my nipple. That's when I almost freaked out, because it all felt so good. The sounds coming out of me were embarrassing, and I put a hand over my mouth in an attempt to stop them. Apparently, he didn't like that, because he took both my wrists in one hand and held them over my head.

“Oh, shit!” I moaned. “Mac... I can't... Mac...”

“Relax, Katze.”

Was he fucking shitting me? Relax? And the noises... I was really freaking out. I tried to bite my lip, but it didn't help. It was just too much.
Way
too much!

“Bear!”

He stopped. Completely. I hadn't been sure he would, but he stopped moving his hand, his mouth let go of my breast, and he rose up to look at me. Smiling. He didn't look angry. I'd been kinda scared he would get angry if I said that.

“What freaked you out?” he asked, nudging my nose with his.

“I'm... making sounds.”

He let go of my wrists and then licked my lips. “Tell me about it. Love 'em.”

He didn't let me answer, instead he kissed me. Slowly building it up again. He still had his hand between my legs, but he wasn't moving it, which eventually became annoying, and I shifted my hips trying to rub against it.

“If I keep kissing you, can I move my hand again?” he asked.

That sounded good, since it would cover my mouth. The second I nodded, he started circling my clit again, and the hand that had been holding my wrists went down to play with my breasts. But he kept his mouth on mine, swallowing the moans, and it almost felt better than having his mouth on my breast. Almost. Not really. Or.... my brain checked out again....

What the fuck! Something was happening. I threw my arms around him, hugged him closer, and I couldn't move my mouth anymore. Just my hips. Or, I wasn't really moving my hips, they were doing it all by themselves. I buried my face into his neck, moaning against it, but that wasn't bothering me anymore, either. The only thing I could think about was that feeling. The tingling, tightening, hot feeling, and then... Ohmygod!

Oh. My. Fucking. God!

“Mac! Oh shit!”

It all fucking exploded, or imploded, possibly both at the same time. Then I couldn't move at all. I could hardly breathe. I lay flat on the counter, and my body felt like jello.

-o0o-

Mac looked at the panting girl lying on his kitchen island. He fucking loved her on it; all the best things with her had happened there. And now she was almost naked with her hair flowing over the opposite edge, and he looked down to his hand buried inside the only piece of clothing she still wore. Black and pink striped cotton panties. He'd never thought he'd find those kind of panties hot, but they were on her. Especially with his hand inside them.

“I was wrong,” she mumbled, and when he looked back at her face, her eyes were still closed.

“About what?”

“I've never had an orgasm before.” Her lips turned into a smile. “I think I'll want more of them.”

He couldn't help it. He laughed and leaned down to give her a kiss. “I'll make sure of that.” He gave her another kiss and sighed. “This really sucks, baby, but I have to go.”

She nodded and winced a little when he took his hand out of her panties. He helped her to sit up. His hand was covered in her and, looking right at her, he licked his fingertips. He wanted to see her reaction.

“Ohmygod! Did you just lick my juices?”

“Yup,” he smiled. “Tastes like honey.”

“Eww!”

“Should be glad I like it. If you're okay with it, I thought I'd lick it right from the source next time.”

She looked at him with big, almost horrified eyes. Then the same thing happened as the two times before—the horrified expression disappeared, and she gave him a shy smile. He'd figure that out—if he told her what he planned for next time, she was horrified at first, but then the thought turned her on. He loved seeing that change on her.

At the moment, his main concern was the fact he was so hard he was about to burst, and he needed to get back to the clubhouse since he was already late. He gave her a quick kiss before going into the bathroom, then pulled out his dick and really fucking quickly got off. Just remembering her coming in his arms, that wet surge over his hand, the same wet he was now rubbing his dick with—that did it. It didn't take long at all.

When he came back outside, she stood in front of the wall in just t-shirt and panties, holding a measuring tape and pen. Her purple hair was almost glowing next to the weird, bluish color she'd painted the wall. He went up to her, put an arm around her waist and gave her cheek a kiss.

“Your hair matches the color on the wall.”

She smiled. “I know it looks crazy, but I think you'll like it when it's all done.”

“I know. I need to get back to the clubhouse.”

“I have to be home by eleven.”

“I'll leave a key so you can lock up. I don't think I'll be home by then, but I know Bear won't be, either.”

“He told me, but just in case.”

“Okay,” he gave her another kiss. “I'll leave a key on the coffee table.”

She nodded. It didn't seem to get to her at all that he gave her a key to his place. When he came home at half past eleven, he understood why. She'd thrown it through the mail slot. With a laugh he picked it up; he obviously had to be clearer when he gave her stuff.

-o0o-

When Vi was six, Bear had bought her a huge set of pens, crayons, and paper for Christmas. She'd gotten dolls and stuff, too, but she'd spent the entire evening drawing, and she'd kept doing it the next day. Not a full month later, the stack of paper he'd bought was gone. Ella'd bought her a sketchbook and told her she could bring it with her wherever she went. Since then, Vi never left home without a sketchbook.

When she was fourteen, some dude at an art store told Bear that Moleskin was the shit, so he bought one of those for her. Her Moleskin was the book she usually had with her; she said she liked how they smelled.

A sure way to know Vi was home was her keys in the bowl and her Moleskin sketchbook next to it. Since they were there, he yelled to get her attention. He wanted to talk to her. He'd been psyching himself and planning for this talk since lunch.

“Vi!”

“In the bathroom.”

He walked through the apartment and opened the door. “Why the fuck isn't the door locked?”

“To the bathroom?” she asked and stared at him. “I'm just shaving my legs.”

“No. To the apartment. I've told you to keep it locked when you're home alone.” He looked down at her lathered up leg and noticed the razor in her hand. “Is that my razor? And since when do you shave your legs?”

“Uhm, since I was fourteen?”

He hadn't known that. “With my razor?”

“Yeah. I mean, why do you even have one?”

“I shave!”

“Where?” And then she stared at the razor. “Holy shit, tell me you're not shaving your balls with this!”

“What? No! What the fuck! Why the fuck would I shave my balls? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Guys do that!”

“What guys?”

“Sisco talked about it at the club once.”

“Why the fuck is he telling
you
that?!” He was going to have a serious talk to Sisco about keeping his privates private around Vi.

“He wasn't talking to me.” Her leg was still up on the toilet seat. “Seriously, what do you shave with this?”

“My beard!”

“Really?” She stared at him in disbelief.

“I even the lines. Why would I keep buying new ones if I didn't use them?” That's when something occurred to him. “Oh, fuck! What else do you shave?”

This was without a doubt one of the most awkward and weird discussions they'd had. This or the one that happened about a month after Ella'd moved out, and Vi asked him to buy maxi pads, then spent about ten minutes specifying what kind she needed. He'd finally given her fifty bucks and told her to buy whatever she needed herself, and he'd done that about once a month since then.

When Vi, as an answer to his question of what else she shaved, gave him a slightly horrified look, he almost gagged.

“Legs, armpits and for summer... you know...” She sighed.

“I'm giving you money, and you're buying your own fucking razors. This will never be mentioned
ever
again.” He couldn't believe it! He'd shaved his face with a razor his daughter had used... He couldn't even think about it. “I need a drink. Possibly drugs.”

The plan to get her talking about Mac, or at least poke around a little, was out the window. It wasn't going to happen. He went into the kitchen and poured himself a generous glass of whiskey. He was getting high tonight—as a fucking kite.

When she came out from the bathroom about ten minutes later, he was by the window with a smoke.

“I'm sorry, Dad,” she said and sat down. “I honestly thought you bought them for me. It's not all that obvious you shave.”

“Yeah. Still, why the hell do you shave...
there
?”

“Because,” she looked embarrassed, “I don't want hair, you know, poking out from my bikini-bottom.”

“You have a bikini?”

“Dad! Yes! Why wouldn't I?”

She probably had a point, but his girl in a bikini with guys seeing her—that was disturbing. A lot of things with her had gotten disturbing since she started to develop curves and stuff. It'd been the same with Lisa, but still different. He hadn't really thought about Vi growing up. Lisa'd always been the big sister, and Vi was the baby. And now she wasn't.

“I'm gonna do my best to forget this ever happened. Buy a pink razor or some other chick color I would never buy.”

“Okay,” she mumbled.

Then she glanced at him, and he could see her trying to hide a smile, and simultaneously they started to laugh. He put out his smoke and walked up to her, picking her up in a hug.

“I'm sorry,” she giggled. “That was just so fucking awkward.”

“You're not kidding, girl.” He kissed the top of her head. “You working today?”

“Yeah. I was gonna ask you for a lift.”

“Think someone can give you a lift home after work? I'm planning on going to the clubhouse and killing enough braincells to forget this.”

“I'll ask Trixie.”

He took her to work, and after getting off the bike, she gave him a long hug.

“Love you, Dad.”

“Love you, too, Katze,” he mumbled and gave her forehead a kiss. “Don't forget to buy a razor.”

He was still a bit freaked out about it by the time he got to the clubhouse, and Brick wasn't much help. He couldn't fucking stop laughing when Bear tried to share his horror with him.

Instead, he got really drunk, extremely fucking high, and fucked the living crap out of one of the strippers. It helped.

CHAPTER SEVEN:

Taste The Dish You Serve

-o0o-

THE MOST COMMON TATTOOS
people wanted were memorial tattoos, but cover-ups were pretty common, too. I watched as Chris was trying to figure out how to cover a black tribal placed above a girl's butt cheek. I'd never done a cover-up, but I knew it was hard.

The only way to cover black was black. Navy blue could work if the black ink was old and faded. This chick, however, was dead set on flowers. I was pretty sure he'd tell her he couldn't do it unless she had it lasered a few times to get it faded before he tried again.

I was sketching a fairy. They'd started handing those over to me since they all fucking hated fairies. I didn't do the actual tattooing, not yet, but they were all eager to get me going on customers so I could take over the tattoos they found boring.

I was, in general, getting out of a lot of the grunt work. Sami'd hired a new shop assistant to help Trixie, instead of me. I was still cleaning the machines, tubes, and equipment, but it was more so I'd get to know them properly. The real grunt work, like breaking down and preparing stations, going through inventory, and ordering—I hardly did any of that anymore.

I looked down at Chris's sketch.

“You do realize it's going look like the flowers are coming out of her ass when you do it like that?”

Chris looked at it and sighed. “Turn around.”

I did and felt him putting the sketch on my lower back.

“Fuck! You're right.” He ripped the paper in two and threw it into the bin. “It's fucking impossible unless she agrees to some changes to her design idea.”

“Told you!” Sami yelled from the kitchen area.

Chris looked at me. “Come on. We're gonna have a needle test.”

That basically meant he'd hold up needles and ask me to tell him what kind of techniques they could be used for. I followed him into his cubicle, and he started rummaging through his bottom drawers. Which meant we were going to do rare needles. We did this often. About as often as we went through every detail of the machines and how to adjust them. I didn't mind; it was definitely things I needed to know.