Something for the Pain(19)

By the time I take a seat next to him his plate is half empty and he’s shoving a bite of hash browns into his mouth, chewing as if it’s the best thing he’s ever eaten. Then again, he always eats that way when I cook for him.

Laughing under my breath, I watch Alex as he grabs for the bottle of whipped cream and squirts it all over my French toast. “Whoa there,” I say while reaching for his hand to stop him. “That’s enough. Alex . . .” I finally manage to get him to stop his whipped cream attack on my toast. I love whipped cream, but damn, not so much that I want to swim in it.

“My bad,” he says with a wink. “Now eat up, babe.”

I playfully kick his leg while grabbing for my fork and cutting off a piece of French toast. There’s so much whipped cream that it’s hard to find the actual food beneath it. I take a bite and my mouth becomes filled and covered completely with whipped cream.

Laughing, I run my tongue over my lips, doing my best to get it all off.

Alex must find it amusing, because he bites his bottom lip and laughs. “You missed a spot.” Without warning, he leans in and runs his tongue over my lips, before stopping on the corner of my mouth and kissing it.

As if he just realized what he did, he stiffens and pulls away, running a hand through his dark hair. “It’s gone . . . now eat up.”

Finishing my breakfast is extremely hard after that. He just licked my fucking mouth and now he expects me to just eat up and pretend that it never happened. Hell . . . I can hardly breathe. How am I supposed to eat?

I shake my head and clear my throat. “What are your hours at the shop today?”

“Early,” he says while chewing his food. “I gotta be there by nine to finish this girl’s sleeve.”

A girl . . . surprising.

“And it’s . . .” My eyes land on the time lit up on the microwave. “8:45 now.”

“Shit.” Alex jumps up in a hurry and starts reaching for his dirty plate.

“Go,” I demand, while reaching for his plate to stop him. “I’ll take care of this.”

“Thanks, babe.” Reaching for my head, he plants a kiss on the top and rushes to the door. “Come see me later.” He stops at the door and turns around to face me when I don’t respond. “Okay?”

I nod my head and force a smile. “Don’t I always?”

Flashing me his charming, dimpled smile, he dips out the door in a hurry and all I can think about is the lucky girl that gets to spend the next two or so hours with him.

My heart sinks as I imagine her touching him and flirting with him. That’s why the girls go to him, right?

I shake my head and start cleaning up breakfast. I’m sure that’s not the only reason. He does happen to be one of the best artists that I know. Maybe she’s not even his type. I can only hope, because there’s no way in hell I will be able to deal with him bringing another girl home. Not right now at least. Not until I get him out of my system.

God only knows how long that will take . . .





DESPITE MY MIND BEING ON Tripp the whole time, I still manage to make it through my first appointment of the day. It was definitely a bad decision to choose the night before a two hour long tattoo session to sink into my best friend’s pussy.

I actually had to stop a few times and pretend like I was giving Heidi a damn break, when really it was for my benefit. I couldn’t concentrate for shit, constantly picturing the little sounds that Tripp made as I filled her with my cock last night and made love to her.

I even found myself pushing down a hard-ass dick every so often, and it didn’t help matters that my client, Heidi, thought it was because of her. I could tell by that confident little smirk as she watched me each and every time.

With a bite of her lip and a flip of her hair, she kept grabbing my thigh and squeezing as if she needed it to fight against the pain from the tattoo gun. Maybe it was a little, but that wasn’t the only reason.

Every time her hand got higher, I found myself readjusting in my seat, making sure that my dick was outside of her reach. It’s definitely a first time for that.

I’ve been here for five hours now and I’m standing out in the lobby, talking to Ace as he plays his video game in between his appointments.

“I saw that cute little redhead leave unhappy this morning. What was up with that? You didn’t tap that ass?”

“Nah, man.” I flip his hat off his head and laugh. “Just worry about your game, bro.”

Sitting up straight, he looks over his shoulder at me, eyebrow raised as he eyes me up. “What the fuck? You seriously didn’t jump on that shit? No wonder she looked pissed. What she needed was a good fuck.”

“Why didn’t you give it to her, man?” I question, honestly curious. “You could’ve made her whole day.”

He lets out a small laugh and turns back to his game. “She was all about you, man. She shoulder checked my ass and pushed her way out the door. I wasn’t about to have her rip my dick off.”

“Good choice. I can’t say that I haven’t had a girl or two try,” I admit, placing my hand over my dick. “It’s not cool.”

“Where’s Tripp?” Ace throws his controller down beside him. “Well damn.” He turns back to me. “She’s usually here bringing your pussy ass lunch. Did you deny her the dick too? You’re just pissing all the women off?”

“Fuck off.” I tease. “Things aren’t like that with us. We’re friends,” I say, less confidently.

“I don’t see how. She’s fine as fuck . . . and those dresses.” He stops to suck his bottom lip into his mouth and grab his dick. “She’s just waiting to be bent over.”

“I said fuck off, Ace.” I growl out. “Watch your fucking mouth when it comes to her.”

“Whoa, man.” Ace throws his arms up and takes a step around the couch. “I was only joking. I didn’t know she worked you up that much.”

Clenching my jaw, I look him up and down. “Yeah . . . well now you do.”

Ace is my guy and he knows it. We’ve been cool for the last six months or so, but I draw a fucking line. No one, and I do mean no one, talks that way about Tripp. I’ll rip a motherfucker’s heart out.

“Sorry, brotha.” Ace grips my shoulder and shakes it. “We’re cool, right?”

I pound my fist with his and nod my head as I start to cool down. Ace is just Ace. I know this by now, but for some reason his words really struck a nerve today. I really need some alone time for a few minutes to get my shit together.

“I’ll be in my room. My next client isn’t scheduled for another thirty minutes. Send her on in if you’re out here still when she arrives.”

“Sure, man. If not, I’ll let Styles know when he gets back from lunch.”

Shutting myself in my room, I start to wonder about what Ace said. It’s way past lunch and usually Tripp shows up around that time when I know she’s stopping in for the day.

The thought causes me to worry that maybe I messed up big time last night. Should I have gone to her room and held her? I wanted to. I wanted to so fucking bad. She’s not the girl that you just fuck and let her run off, but that’s exactly what I did.

I only did it because I thought it’s what I was supposed to do to avoid mixing up what it was. Maybe I was wrong.

Shit . . .

“Hey, Stud.”

I look up and exhale, long and hard, when I hear the sweet sound of Tripp’s voice. Seeing her is exactly what I need and don’t need at the moment.

“Hey, babe.” I smile and walk over to give her a hug, before grabbing the white sack out of her hand and motioning for her to sit down. “Smells so fucking good . . .”

She laughs and watches me as I empty out the contents of the bag. “Well, I got your favorite.”

I tilt my head to look back at her, our eyes locking. “I meant you, Firecracker.” I run my tongue over my lips and laugh. “But the food comes in close second.”

Her hands tightly squeeze the chair between her bare legs, but she pretends that my words had no effect on her. I don’t need her to speak for me to know. I can read her like a fucking book.

We stay mostly quiet while we both eat, but every time I look over at her I want to tell her how much I want her right now. I want her so fucking bad, but I just chew my damn burger, hoping that it will keep my mouth occupied long enough that I don’t say some stupid shit.

The fact that her chest is quickly rising and falling tells me that she has something to say too. The question is whether or not we’re smart enough to keep our mouth shut.

“I want a tattoo,” she blurts out. “Will you give me one?”

I set my burger down and watch as she wraps the rest of hers up. “You know I will, Firecracker. I’ll give you anything you want.”

She sits back in the chair and closes her eyes. “I’m ready.”

“What? Right now?” I shove the rest of the food into the bag and walk over to stand above her. “What do you want?”

“Anything you give me, Alex.” She opens her eyes and they lock on mine, long and hard, before she speaks again. “I trust you with my body. Even more now than before.”

Fuck me . . .

I swallow hard and make a quick decision. I have a client coming in any minute now, but the urge to mark her body is too strong to pass up. “Give me a minute.”