It’s a waitress station, and Skye busies herself by wrapping forks and knives in red paper napkins. She starts when I appear in her cramped station.
“Hey, Skye,” I say, propping one hand on the partition.
“Can I help you?” Her voice is sultry, and for a moment I wonder if it’s a proposition. I bet she wants to get on her knees in front of me right here.
“I just wanted a favor.”
“What’s that?” She stops her cutlery wrapping and turns to me. My eyes rake over her tight T-shirt and the swell of her tits underneath. I figure she’s early twenties, and they’re nice and perky with a good dose of cleavage on show. She probably gets the most tips in this place.
Her eyes are fixed on my arms, examining my tattoo sleeves. I wonder what she’s noticed.
“As you may have seen, my date for the night is a real piece of work. When you come back, tell her you’re sold out of fruit salad. I need to get out of here.”
She laughs, a wicked, sharp sound that bounces around our little cubby hole and lands straight on my cock. If she can make a sound like that so easily, what would she sound like when I made her come?
“She’s something else, that’s for sure. I can’t say we get people like her in here every day, or ever. This is a good, honest place for regular people to eat. We don’t get many rich bitches like her. Wealthy people have no place in here.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, those rich fuckers have too much as it is, there’s no need for them to set foot in our territory.”
“I see.” She’s so young and idealistic. It’s cute.
“This is what I think of her,” Skye says. She hands me a small piece of paper.
It’s an empty sheet from her orders notepad. I turn it over. On the back is a drawing of Freya. It’s so lifelike it looks like a photograph, except this Freya has dragon fire coming out of her mouth and pointy horns on her head.
“You just drew this picture of Freya?”
“Yeah, I was bored while waiting for another table.”
“This is amazing. Can I keep it?”
She shrugs. “Sure. And don’t worry, I’ll tell the dragon lady we’re out of fruit salad.”
“You’re a star,” I say and kiss her cheek. Her eyes widen and her hand flies to where my lips have just been. Before she has a chance to say anything, I turn and walk back to my table.
Skye appears at our table a few minutes later and, as promised, tells Freya there’s no fruit salad. Instead she lays the check on the table, halfway between me and Freya.
Of course, Freya makes no move to look at the check. She doesn’t even glance at it. I pull my wallet out of my jeans pocket. As I open it, the drawing Skye did falls onto the table.
Freya stares at it, her eyes wide and body rigid. “What’s that?”
“Just a little picture Skye drew me.”
“Who’s Skye?”
“Our waitress.”
“She should be fired! I’m going to complain to the manager!”
“Relax, no one is getting fired. Now, if I’m calculating this right, your half of the check is fourteen bucks with tip.”
Back Again
(Skye)
That night in bed, I slide my hand between my legs and remember the hot guy at table six. After he left, I kept messing up orders, kept taking the wrong drinks to the wrong table. I even undercharged one table by twenty bucks, which got me in deep shit with Kevin.
It’s a good thing I’ve never made a single mistake before tonight. Even my first day went by without a mistake. In the end Kevin just chalked it up to a bad day. I wasn’t about to tell him that the real reason was a bad boy who wouldn’t leave my head.
My lungs heave at the memory of him. I wish I’d been able to look closer at the art on his arms. It tells so much about a person. From what I saw, the art on one arm was all clever geometric play; shapes that morphed into one another. The other sleeve was a mix of so many styles and subjects, I didn’t have time to even begin to appreciate it.
I’d bet any money they all have deeper meanings. I tremble at the idea of him wrapping those inked-up arms around me.
My fingers continue to work around my entrance.
When he’d kissed me, my cheek burned in heat. That same spot is burning now, a feeling now radiating through the rest of my body.
The memory of him saying my name pops into my head, as real as if he were standing in the room saying it now. It sends me crashing over the edge. My body pulses with the first orgasm I’ve been able to reach in months.
All the tension, all the worries about money and my parents and my career vanished that night, and I had the best sleep I’ve had since leaving Michigan.