TWELVE
SHANNON
THE NEEDLE SLID THROUGH THE CENTER OF MY TONGUE like it was a hot knife slicing through butter. I clutched Matthew’s large hand in mine, squeezing as I tensed up.
“All done,” the guy piercing my tongue said. “Just let me screw this on.”
When I first saw him, I was afraid of him. He was tall, his face covered in tattoos, and his long blond hair twisted into dreads. His ears were gaged out—I could see straight through them—and he had a bull ring in his nose.
Looks were definitely deceiving. He was sweet and patient with me, patting the top of my hand and answering my questions with an understanding smile.
His names was Charles, and come to find out, he was married with three kids. He had a degree in art and took the time to paint each of his kids’ rooms after a Disney movie of their choice.
I liked him.
Once he finished, he turned away and set his tools on the metal tray at our side.
“You’re a wild woman,” Matthew whispered in my ear.
I scoffed at his words, but he was right. I felt wild.
It was something stupid. A simple tongue piercing I’d probably pull out the minute it healed, but it had been the in thing when I was in high school, and I had always been too afraid to do it.
Not anymore.
Thanks to Matthew.
I sat up in the chair I was lying back on and flicked my tongue around. It was sore, and I felt like I had something stuck in my mouth.
Matthew laughed. “You look funny doing that.”
“It feels weird. Have you ever had this done?”
“Yeah. For like, two years, but I took it out a few years back.”
Charles talked me through proper care procedures, and then Matthew was helping me up from the chair.
“Come on, Red, let’s get out of here. The night’s young, and we still have some wilding out to do.”
Once we were back in his car, he buckled his seat belt and turned toward me.
“You know? I didn’t think this through very well. We probably should’ve eaten before we stuck a rod through your tongue.” He chuckled.
“You tink?”
Because I couldn’t eat anything hot, and my tongue was starting to throb, we went to an ice-cream shop that also had food. I nibbled on an ice cream sundae, which felt amazing, while he grabbed himself a burger.
“This is delicious,” he said, biting into the juicy burger.
“You’re evil.”
He chuckled. “Hey. There are consequences to being the wild woman.”
I rolled my eyes obviously and placed another spoonful of vanilla ice cream on top of my tongue.
“What do you want to do when we leave here?” he asked, popping a crispy fry into his mouth.
I shrugged. “It’s up to you. You’re the one planning everything tonight.”
His eyes lowered. “I could always take you home if you want. I mean, I don’t want to take you home, but if your tongue is really bothering you ...”
“I’m not ready to go home.”
I couldn’t believe I said that, but it was the truth. Lilly was home, and Devin would be there, and being a permanent third wheel was no fun.
“You could always come back to my place?”
“I’m not going to sleep with you,” I deadpanned.
“I’m aware.”
“What will we do?” I slurred.
My tongue was starting to swell.
“Well, first we’ll put some ice on your tongue. Then we’ll watch some Netflix and chill?”
I laughed. “No Netflix and chill.”
“Fine. We’ll watch a movie and hang out. Better?”
“Much.”
It wasn’t smart to go home with a guy, but I felt like I could trust him to keep his hands to himself. Maybe it was poor decision-making on my part considering my past, but already I felt like I was starting to get to know him. I was gradually figuring him out, and what I was finding I was happy with so far. Matthew wasn’t a bad guy, and he wasn’t as much of a player as he thought he was.
He was a heartbroken man protecting his heart just as I was a broken woman protecting my body.
We finished our food and drove the few minutes to his place. I was expecting a luxurious place, considering the car he drove. It was obvious Matthew had money to blow. But I hadn’t expected him to live in something so glorious.
It was a historic Charleston house, tall and slender, the four stories hovered over the city like a menacing creature. The outside was gray with black plantation shutters and tall windows. Wraparound porches on each story supported by intricately carved beams and rails. I could imagine stepping out onto the top floor deck and looking out over the Atlantic coast.
It was gorgeous.
It spoke of memories and dreams of years gone by, of a time when things were simple and the world wasn’t wracked with the chaos.
We parked and stepped through the handmade wrought iron gate surrounding his place. I grinned, thinking how fortunate he was to have such a beautiful home.
The walkway was timeworn cobblestone surrounded by lush gardens that looked as if they had been planted and taken care of since the day the house was built, which I was sure was over a hundred years before.
“This is gorgeous, Matthew,” I said as I took the cobblestone walkway to the wide steps that went up to the glorious front porch.
There were rocking chairs and gas lamplights. And when I turned back toward his car, I could see we were also right across from the water.
“Thank you.”
He unlocked the front door and opened it for me to step through. The lights came on automatically, illuminating what was probably the most gorgeous space I had ever seen. A large antique fireplace centered on the wall had a massive window on each side with a view of the water across the street.
I stepped up to the window and took in the view.
“Really?” I asked, turning toward him with a raised brow. “People live this way?”
He chuckled. “Yes, really. It’s my home.”
We moved into the gourmet kitchen next, which had obviously been recently renovated. There was stainless steel everything as far as the eye could see mixed with white. It was crisp and clean as if no one ever ate or cooked in the space.
“This is … wow. This is beautiful,” I said in awe. “Do you even eat here?
He snorted. “Nope. It’s takeout all day, or I go out to eat.”
“But you’re so …” I stopped, waving my hand at his body.
“I’m so what?”
“Fit. You’re so fit.”
He moved closer, his eyes dipping to my lips. I backed away, my hips bumping into the marble island in the center of his kitchen.
“Have you been looking at my body, Red?”
I swallowed, my tongue feeling too fat for my mouth.
I shook my head, deciding that talking was starting to hurt too much.
“Are you lying to me?”
I put my head down, my cheeks feeling hot, but then I looked him in the eye and nodded.
His face lit up with a grin.
“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked.
I nodded again.
“I look at your body, too.”
I frowned, my shoulders dropping at his words.
I hated my body.
I was too tall.
Too round.
Too … fat.
“And it’s all luscious and curvy. Sometimes I think about grabbing handfuls of you and squeezing. Your hips and thighs. Your gorgeous ass. And these,” he said, running a finger across my cleavage, “are fucking amazing. I can’t wait to see you naked.”
I was breathing hard. My body hummed from his praise, and I suddenly wished I had waited to pierce my tongue because all I wanted was for him to lean down and kiss me the way he had before.
With the courage he had just given me, I leaned up on my toes and pressed my lips to his. I couldn’t really kiss him the way I wanted, but at least I could feel his lips against mine.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, his large hands going to my ass to grab handfuls as he’d said he would. He squeezed, lifting my body a bit, and pressing me into the island behind me. He pulled away and rested his forehead against mine.
“You’re driving me crazy. How are you doing this?”
I had no idea what he was talking about, but I was hoping he meant it in a good way.
“I’m not doing anything,” I whispered.
“Yes, you are. You’re doing everything.”
And then he kissed me again.
Gentle and sweet.
Soft like a feather as he brushed his lips across mine, his sweet breath tickling my top lip.
He pulled away, releasing my ass with a growl.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“No. Don’t apologize, but let’s go settle in front of the TV before I get carried away.”
His TV was seventy inches and surrounded by actual movie seats and a sectional couch. It was on the top floor, and he had coverings that dropped over the windows to block out the sun during the day. It was extravagant and honestly a waste of money, but I didn’t say anything.
I settled onto the couch, unzipping my boots and pulling them off my feet. He sat beside me and removed his shoes as well. Leaning back on the couch, he put his arm on the back of the seat and picked up the remote control with his other hand.
That was how we sat for the next few hours. We ended up watching a movie on Netflix, and not once did he try to touch me or become inappropriate. It was nice, and I could honestly say I was having a wonderful time with him.
Soon, he began to doze off, allowing me time to sit and look at him without him knowing and having something sarcastic or sexual to say.
His dark hair fell over his brow, and his black lashes fluttered against his high cheekbones. His skin was naturally tanned, but he was also a bit dark from the sun. His nose was thin and symmetrical, and his lips were open as he breathed deep in his sleep; they were smooth and supple … thick and erotic with just the right amount of facial hair around them.
He hadn’t shaved lately. His face wasn’t as smooth as usual, and instead, a slight beard was growing. Just enough that when I reached out and ran my finger across his cheek, I could feel the prickles.
Getting away with touching him, I moved closer and ran my finger across his lips, feeling their softness and his warm breath against the tip of my finger. Then out of nowhere, his hand grabbed mine.
I gasped and tugged my hand back. His eyes popped open, and he grinned at me with sleepy eyes.
“Are you taking advantage of a sleeping man, Red?”
I went to answer no, but I hadn’t spoken in a while, and I had no idea how swollen my tongue was. I moaned in pain and reached up to cover my mouth.
My tongue was throbbing, the swelling filling my mouth. I didn’t regret it, but I wished I had some Tylenol or something for the pain.
“Is it hurting pretty badly?” he asked, leaning up and stretching.
His shirt pulled against his body letting me see the dips and cuts in his back muscles.
I nodded instead of answering.
“Want something cold to drink? Maybe some ice?” he asked, reaching out and rubbing my knee without thinking.
It was as if we spent time together all the time. He was comfortable with me, and I was becoming comfortable with him.
“Ice please,” I slurred.
“Come on.” He reached down and grabbed my hand, pulling me up from the couch.
He held my hand the entire way to his kitchen, and once we were there, he got a glass from the cabinet and filled it with ice for me.
“Really, a popsicle would be better. Do you want to run out and get some?
I shook my head. “This will do.”
I plucked a cube out of the glass and slid it into my mouth. Sucking a little, I felt the instant relief against my heated tongue. His eyes followed my movements, making me feel as if I was doing something naughty when I wasn’t. I was only trying to find relief.
“What?” I asked, disliking the fact he was staring at me
“You.”
“What about me?”
“The way you’re sucking that ice cube is getting me hard.”
My eyes dropped to his crotch, and sure enough, there was a tent popped up.
“I think everything turns you on.”
“No. It’s just …” He stopped.
“It’s just what?”
He moved closer, his finger skimming across my bottom lip and making me suck it into my cold mouth. His tongue peeked out, swiping at the corner of his mouth.
“I never wanted to be an ice cube so badly in all my life.”
He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. With a swollen tongue, I wasn’t much for kissing, but he never pressed for me to open for him. Instead, his heated lips against my icy ones felt like something much more sexual.
He pulled away, his eyes tracing the line of my lips once more.
“You’re doing something to me.”
“What am I doing?”
“I don’t know. I just know I feel different with you.”
I had no idea what that meant and whether it was bad or good. I had no idea how to respond or if I should respond.
I opened my mouth to say something sweet, but before I could, he pulled away.
“Maybe I should take you home now. It’s getting late.”
I nodded, and he left the kitchen to go get our shoes from the TV room. While he was gone, I turned and looked out the large windows overlooking the beautiful Charleston coastline. The bridge lit up in the distance, illuminating a tiny bit of sky around it.
Matthew had an amazing life. One filled with riches and I was sure lots of family and friends. I didn’t fit in with him, and I never would. That realization was like dropping my glass of cold ice over my head.
We were friends.
At least, I thought we were.
And I was thinking maybe it was best if we stayed that way. No matter how badly my body begged for him. And no matter how quickly my mind was starting to understand my body’s sentiments.