Tapping the screen, I saw a message in my inbox.
Thomas: Checking in. Quiet week. Hope you’re doing something more fun than I am.
Fuck. A wave of guilt rolled over me, settling deep in my stomach. Thomas was risking his life while I was busy fucking his sister. I couldn’t admit it to him, at least not yet.
Me: Good. Took the weekend off.
No reply came, as was usually the case. One message a week was what we were allowed before he’d wipe his phone clean of any remnants of our communication.
Izzy stirred in my arms, touching my face. “Everything okay?” she asked.
“Never better.” I turned off the screen and tossed the phone toward the end of the bed.
“Did you say something before about the entire weekend?” she yawned.
“Yep. I’m all yours,” I replied, kissing her forehead.
“Um, I have to work today.” Her body shook in my arms as she stretched.
“I’d love to see the shop.”
“Wouldn’t you rather do something else?” She pulled from my grip.
“I’ll find something to do today after I drop you off. We can go out later when you’re done.”
“I work late, though.”
“Don’t you own the joint?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Maybe you can get off early.”
“I was hoping to get off now,” she said, and laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.
I inched closer, bringing my body to hers. “That I can do,” I growled in her ear.
“James,” she said, pushing against my chest.
“Hmm mmm.” I nibbled on her ear before nipping a path down her neck.
She moaned as I bit down on the tender flesh above her collarbone. Using my tongue, I tasted her skin as I captured her nipple in my mouth and sucked hard, flicking it.
“Keep going.” She laughed and dug her fingers in my hair.
Izzy and I stayed in bed for a couple of hours, feasting on each other and drifting back to sleep. Finally, after showering, we were ready to head to the tattoo parlor a little after noon.
As she locked the door, she turned to me and said, “James, I’ve never brought anyone to the shop.” She kicked at the ground with her right foot and looked down.
“Izzy, I met everyone at the wedding. I’ll tell them I was in the area and you let me crash on your couch.”
Looking up, she rolled her eyes at me. “Yeah, ’cause that’s believable.”
“Listen, little mama. We can play it however you want to. I can say I fucked you mindless last night or that I just crashed at your place. I’ll let you explain it. I thought it would be nice to see the shop Thomas has told me so much about.” I climbed on my bike, lifting the stand as I straddled the machine.
“Skip the mindless fucking part,” she said, walking toward my bike.
“I’ll be your secret.” I winked at her, patting the back seat of my bike, and hoped she’d let me give her a lift.
“It’s not that I want you a secret. I just haven’t figured us out yet. I don’t know what I want.” She squeezed in behind me, gripping me with her thighs. She felt so fucking good wrapped around my body.
“You want me,” I replied, laughing as I turned on the engine and revved it. I took off before she could respond, and headed toward her business.
She yelled in my ear when I needed to turn. I didn’t tell her that I already knew where it was because of Thomas. Our jobs were dangerous and we had to share everything in our lives with our supervisors. Our families were monitored for their safety, and files were built about them. Thomas knew my life just like I did his. There were no secrets—until now, at least.
She climbed down, shaking out her hair as I turned off the bike. “I can’t believe I agreed to this shit,” she said loud enough for me to hear.
As I got off the bike and stretched, I said, “They’ll be more concerned about Thomas than what I’m doing here with you.” I twirled my keys in my hand as I followed her toward the front door.
“Let’s hope. This shit could blow up in my face.”
“What could go wrong?” I grabbed the door, opening it for her.
“Hey!” she yelled as she walked inside.
The reception area was empty, but there were voices and movement coming from the back.
“Yo! Back here,” a male voice called out from the tattoo area.
“Come on,” she whispered to me, motioning for me to follow.
I took a moment to look around the shop. It was stunning. Totally unlike some of the seedy shithole tattoo parlors I’d been in. This joint was classy, with colorful walls and beautiful decoration. It had Izzy written all over it.
“Hey, I brought someone,” she said as we walked into the back.