Under Locke (22 page)

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Authors: Mariana Zapata

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction

BOOK: Under Locke
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I fell asleep with my cheeks hurting that night.

 

~ * ~ *

 

“I don’t fuck my employees, man.”

 

Shane shook his head, and then tilted it forward just a little. “Not even that one?”

 

I was trying my best to pretend that I couldn’t hear them. Like I was so wrapped up in watching Slim transfer the fresh stencil onto the customer in the chair, that I was able to zone out my boss and his friend. But I couldn’t, and a huge part of me, the sadistic part, didn’t want to.

 

For the last thirty minutes I’d been trying to ignore Dex and this Shane fella talk about who'd they’d seen up until that point at the convention. Up until Shane had shown up, I’d been having a good time with both of my coworkers. Dex had teased me about how I thought everything was cool while we’d walked around bringing the shop's things in.

 

That’s right. Dex was teasing me. Apparently our middle of the night hysterical laughing session had been a transition in the Iris/Dex battle. Who would have known? I still felt a little uneasy and unsure but it wasn’t anything like before. I’d take it. I had told myself before I wasn’t going to be pissed off at him any more, and I was going to stick to my guns and go with this new attitude for however long it lasted.

 

Because it wouldn’t last but I’d worry about that when the time came.

 

We spent the morning making our way around like zombies trying to set up the booth before opening. The people, the colors, the designs, everything in our surroundings sucked me in with the back and forth trekking from the truck.

 

The people and the piercings were beyond interesting. I'd seen one girl who had rows of piercings that lined up her back with streams of ribbon laced through that made it look like she was wearing a corset. Another man I’d seen setting up a table down the row from ours had tattoos all over his face. There was literally no inch of clear skin on his entire head except around his eyes. That was just the start, Slim had warned me.

 

It was fun. Taking in all the unconventional people, imagining what kind of stories the tattoos on their bodies told. There was no doubt in my mind both Slim and Dex could sense my curiosity and excitement.

 

We were having a really good time.

 

Until Shane came in with his big, ringing words, retelling stories about how many girls he and Dex bagged every time he visited Shane's shop in Dallas. From the amount of time he'd spent with us, I figured his booth wasn't exactly busy. I’d stood up to grab Slim a new water bottle for rinsing, and that was when Shane noticed me. Leading to the question that made me wary.
The same question that had me clocking in our wagon of friendly as a twelve hour truce.

 

Well, it’d been fun while it lasted.

 

I saw Dex cut me a glance out of my peripheral vision, though I’m not sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, before sighing out, “No.”

 

Sheesh.

 

“Especially not that one,” he added.

 

Dick!

 

The stab to my pride flared up my chest painfully.

 

Screw him for not wanting to sleep with
especially me
. Dick face. It's not like I wanted someone like him to add to the nonexistent list of people I'd slept with in my life.

 

I flicked my gaze over in their direction, catching Shane’s eyes on me, and forced a hard smile to my face. I wasn't a vain person. I was happy with myself and regardless of whether Dex thought my B cups w
ere
too small or whether my facial features weren't up to par. I had some pride. So I gritted my teeth, locked my gaze on Dex's throat and grabbed the bottled water I'd filled up hours before.

 

Dick. Dick. Dick. Dick. Dick.

 

"What's wrong with her?" the snooty little jerk asked.

 

Was there something wrong with me? Besides my arm, which no one friggin' knew about, I didn't think there was anything
wrong
with me. I wasn't going to be on the cover of a magazine anytime soon—or ever—but I didn't look like I
’d gone head to head with a surgeon’s scalpel and lost
.

 

"Nothin' besides the fact Sonny w
ould
rip your asshole outta your mouth if he saw you lookin' at her ass," Dex replied in a low laugh.

 

There was a low groan. "That's Son's sis?"

 

"The only one we know of."

 

God, the thought that there could be another Curt Taylor offspring in the world made me want to vomit even more than the realization that Dex didn't find me at least attractive enough to stand up for me.

 

Dickface.

 

Shane made a humming noise. "So I can't try—"

 

"Shut the fuck up, man," Dex groaned.

 

"Dude. You can't tell me you haven't thought about hittin' that."

 

Oh God. Was I mad or annoyed? I should feel insulted or pissed that I was being objectified, but strangely, I think I was more annoyed than anything else.

 

Dex's answer only fueled the part of me that was pissed off. Completely overshadowing my annoyance. "Why would I?"

 

And here I thought we were sort-o
f
friends. Jerk. Slimy, moody, tiny balls. Weren't recluse spiders common in Texas? Maybe I could

 

"I think we're talking too loud," Shane stated.

 

There was a short pause before Dex stated evenly in the same volume, “Ritz.“

 

I ignored him, focusing at the thought of finding a spider to bite his precious arm.

 

Here was this man I thought was beautiful, nearly perfect on the outside, hotter than a light bulb that had been left on all day—a bit of a dick but whatever. And he didn’t even find me attractive enough to be polite when referring to my looks. Not even a little and it made my sternum burn.

 

"Ritz."

 

Dick.

 

"Iris," he said that time.

 

I looked over my shoulder at his chin, clenching my jaw. Dick. "Yes?"

 

Dex waved me forward with a flick of his tattooed fingers. “Babe, come here.”

 

I didn’t.

 

“Iris, come here.”

 

"I'm fine over here, Char-l
e
e," I told him. Was I trying to piss him off by calling him that? Probably.

 

I could see Dex shake his head in Shane’s direction before splitting the distance between us. His gaze dropped to my eye level as he rolled my chair away from Slim's vicinity for me to face him. Dex's hand reached out to tip my face. I looked up at the rafters.

 

"No." He pressed his fingers deep into the skin under my chin.

 

Touchy-feely Dex?
Okay
.

 

"No what?" I blurted out the question like a moron.

 

He made some sort of disapproving noise in the back of his throat. "I hate it when you look away," Dex murmured. "Quit it."

 

I widened my eyes but still didn't listen to him.

 

“Look at me," he insisted. "You pissed again?” he asked in a low voice meant only for me.

 

There was absolutely no hesitation in my answer. “Yes.”

 

He groaned. "Babe, fuckin' look at me. I like your wounded deer eyes."

 

Dick. I shrugged.

 

Dex slid his thumb down to replace the two fingers beneath my chin, and then swept it across the line of my jaw to nearly my ear. "Please."

 

God. He got on my nerves. Tired of playing the petulant child and kind of pleased that he'd said the magic word, I finally looked at him. The expression on my face was the best blank one I could muster.

 

Those cobalt colored eyes shifted from one of mine to the other. Because I'd gotten to know him in my own secret way, I could see the strain on his lips. The strain that told me he was trying really hard not to be amused. “You heard what I said?”

 

I gritted my teeth. "I'm not deaf."

 

Oh yeah, he was trying not to smile.

 

But he forced a slow blink. "And?"

 

“It's fine that I'm not your cup of tea, Dex, but you don't have to be such an ass about it and tell the entire world." I swallowed. "I don't have friggin' herpes or the Black Plague."

 

A frown twitched his pink lips, a crease forming between his eyebrows as he looked from one eye to the other again. "Honey." His finger slipped just behind my ear.

 

"Please go away.

 

“No.”

 

Of course not. I had to try a different tactic. “
You're embarrassing me."

 

What did the asswipe do? He grinned goofy. His good mood apparent over every pore of his face. "I think you're embarrassin' me."

 

"Oh please," I snorted, tipping my head back out of his reach. "You're just being honest. It's fine. I'm serious. I don't like chocolate, it's kind of the same thing, right?"

 

His eyes widened for a moment, sweeping leisurely over my face and down to my mouth. "No. It's not, babe." His grinned flattened in a way that spelled trouble. "You don't need to be fishin' for compliments."

 

"I'm not fishing for compliments!" Was I?

 

His tongue peeked out to tap his bottom lip. "Seems like it."

 

What? A shiver wormed its way down my spine. A shiver that I was barely able to control until I felt something soft, hot, and feathery in my throat. “It seems you’re out of your mind.”

 

He raised a heavy eyebrow. “Why?”

 

I swallowed hard and leaned further away from him. “Where do you want me to start?”

 

He looked at me for a little longer than I expected before he laughed that same guttural version I secretly liked. Dex smiled, never losing eye contact even after calming down.

 

Something changed in his expression. Maybe not even in the contours of his face but in his eyes, something definitely changed just a little. Whatever it was, I liked it.

 

Plus, I wouldn't get to see much of him pretty soon. The reality that I needed to tell him what was going on made me feel guilty.

 

I still kind of hated him for being so damn hot.

 

Especially since he’d decided to let himself all hang out while at the Expo. Unlike his daily attire back in Austin that mainly consisted of t-shirts, jeans, and the occasional gingham print shirt, Dex had shed his normal attire for a black undershirt. A sleeveless black tank that let me see every inch of those cut arms beneath layers of thick ink, and a better view of the red tattoo that went from his back over his shoulder and neck to his chest.

 

Damn him.

 

Damn him to hell.

 

Dex looked at me for a second longer before straightening up and saying, "I’m gonna get goin’ for a while. If someone comes lookin’ for me, call.”

 

I nodded, knowing that I didn’t have his number but assuming that Slim did.

 

He paused for a minute, straightening up to his full height before leaning back down and over me. The hot heat of his skin radiated onto mine so intently the warmth of his skin seeped into my muscles. "Son would skin my balls if I let somebody take advantage of his pretty
baby
sister."

 

Oh my mother heifer.

 

As if that wasn't enough, I swear to Mary and Joseph I felt his bottom lip press to the skin over my right temple. "I like it when you're all cute and playful," he added.

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