CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

Luca

 

I CLOSE MY EYES AND breathe in the sweet wildflower scent, then bury my face in the thick luscious hair in front of me. My lips open over her delicate flesh, and I lick along the smooth skin, taking small bites as I work my way toward her ear. I smile when I hear her breathy little moans.

Her nails dig into my shoulders and her knees squeeze my ribs as she lifts her hips to press her center closer to my cock. I give her what she wants by grinding against her. I feel the warmth of her pussy through her panties and my jeans, and it drives me fucking crazy.

“Please,” she mewls. “I need you.”

I sit back on my heels and look down at her. Her beautiful amber eyes are glazed over with lust, and the light flush on her cheeks gives away just how much she needs me.

Her legs are spread around me with the backs of her thighs resting on the top of mine. I settle my hands on her knees, and slowly run them up her legs. She nibbles on her bottom lip and her breasts jiggle as she pants heavily.

“You need me?” I ask hoarsely.

“Yes.”

I smile again when the word comes out as a moan.

When my hands reach the apex of her thighs, her eyes close.

“Nuh-uh, baby. I want you to keep your pretty eyes open and on me.”

She opens them, but only halfway, and I know it’s because she’s relaxed and half-crazed with desire.

I let my thumbs lightly brush against the wet spot on her panties, and her breath hitches. When her hips jerk upward, I take advantage and slip my fingers under the waistband and tug the material down her legs. Seeing her pussy glistening with her arousal has my cock weeping and begging for relief.

I lift her hips and slide her toward me so her ass is resting on my spread thighs. I run the tip of one finger up her cleft until I reach the little button of her clit. I roll the nub between my fingers. Her mouth drops open on a silent cry of pleasure.

Reaching for my jeans, I release the button and pull down my zipper. She watches, and when she sees my cock, her eyes flare with hunger and she licks her lips. I swear I feel the touch of her tongue against my shaft. A drop of precome beads the tip, and I swipe it with my finger then swirl it around her clit.

“Oh, God, that feels so good. Don’t stop.”

I apply more pressure and her moans turn guttural.

I lean down so I’m hovering over her, resting my weight on one fist beside her head. I watch her face as I grip the base of my cock and rub the head against her pussy. When she lifts her hips, trying to fit me inside her, I pull back.

“Patience, baby,” I croon. “Let me play a minute.”

She bites her lip again, as if torn on whether she wants to demand I make love to her now, or continue the sexual torture she’s receiving. I smirk and tap the underside of my shaft against her clit. She shudders, and my cock thickens.

I bend down and run my lips across hers. Her tongue meets mine in a kiss that’s both sweet and hot as hell.

“Jules.” I whisper her name gruffly.

I can feel her legs quiver as she tightens them around me. I notch the tip of my cock at her opening, but only slide the head in. I want this to last as long as possible, and I know if I take her fully in this moment, it’ll end way too soon.

I fuck her with just the tip for several strokes, and she tries her best to bring me down so I’m fully seated inside her. Looking into her eyes, I see desperation and unabashed want.

I brace myself and pull my hips back, pausing only long enough for her eyes to meet mine, before I thrust forward, giving her every bit of myself I have to offer.

When she cries out in ecstasy, she completely and utterly shatters me.

“Theo!”

 

 

I SPRING AWAKE WITH a growl on my lips. Anger, pain, and lust fuel the fire burning through my veins. Remnants of the dream flash repeatedly in my mind. It felt so fucking real. So real, I can still feel the indents of her fingers on my shoulders. Even with her calling out Theo’s name at the end, my cock is as hard as steel underneath the sheet.

Dammit, it was my body that lay on top of hers. It was my lips that kissed her, and my cock that breached her tight channel. I’m a fucking fool, but damn it all to hell if I wish it wasn’t true.

Being the sick bastard that I am, I reach down for my cock and grip it tight. Pleasure instantly hits as I slowly slide my fist up and down. I close my eyes and remember the part of the dream that made my dick hard in the first place. Jules, clad only in a pair of white panties and a tank top, looking up at me with hungry eyes. It’s me she’s looking at, not him.

My hand moves faster as I picture her lustful stare and insert my name coming off her lips. It’s twisted to fantasize, but I’m too far gone to give any fucks. My imagination has a mind of its own, and it demands this fucked-up fantasy.

I imagine Jules here with me right now. Behind my eyelids, I see her in my bed and feel her hands running over my body. Her lips and tongue glide across my chest, taking little bites just hard enough to leave a mark behind. My hands explore every inch of her body that I can touch. She moans and whimpers and begs me for more.

My balls draw up with my impending release, much faster than I anticipated. I keep my imagination going, needing this release so goddamn much.

I envision lying on my back with Jules riding my cock. Her nails dig into my chest as her movements become frenzied, trying to find her release. Her hair falls around us when she bends and places her lips against mine. I grasp her hips and hold her in place as I move in a series of quick and short thrusts. I swallow her whimpers. When she sits back and grinds her clit down on my pelvic bone, her walls grip me tight. Her cries are loud and unrestrained, and it’s my name that falls from her lips.

I grunt and lift my hips, my orgasm hitting me strong and suddenly. Warm jets of come land on my stomach. I squeeze my shaft and milk every bit of my release as I can.

Sagging back against the sheets, I take a deep breath. I should feel remorse and shame at jacking off to thoughts of my brother’s wife, but I’m too drained to care. Reaching to the floor, I swipe the shirt I threw there earlier and wipe away the proof of my depravity.

I drop the shirt back to the floor and settle back against the pillow. Closing my eyes, I try to find sleep again, not altogether against having another dream like the one I just woke from, even if the end results of the dream made me want to permanently maim my brother and claim his wife as my own.

Once my body is relaxed and my mind has time to wander, I again wait for remorse to hit me. I’m surprised when it doesn’t. Only a deep-seated need takes root. A need I have no choice but to push away before I turn into a man who takes something that’s not his to have.

 

 

I FINISH UP THE FINAL touches to the butterfly tattoo I’m putting on a client. I roll back a foot on my stool and take a critical look, making sure the design came out just as I imagined. Satisfied, I set my machine down on my cart and grab a fresh napkin. Once I fold it, I spray cleaning solution on it and wipe down the tattoo. I toss that one in the trash and grab a second napkin and do it again.

“You’re done,” I tell Whitney, rolling back another couple of feet to give her room to get up. “Go check it out and let me know what you think.”

She gets up and walks over to the tall mirror. She stands sideways and smiles as she looks over the design.

“Wow, Luca. I shouldn’t be surprised anymore, but every time you amaze me. I fucking love it.”

When she turns back to face me, her bare tits jiggle. I’m a man, so I take notice, but I turn away after a moment. Whitney’s been a regular client of mine for a couple of years and she’s not afraid to tattoo any part of her body. This particular one is on the side of her left breast. Most women would choose to only expose that part of her body. Not Whitney though. When it was time to get started, she unashamedly whipped off her shirt. She came prepared because her bra was absent.

Knowing the drill, Whitney sits back down and lifts her arm. I apply a thin layer of all-natural ointment, then snap off my gloves. As I do with all my work, I grab my phone and snap a picture.

“You’re good to go. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll meet you out front.”

I get up and start to move away, but Whitney’s hand reaches out and snags the waistband of my jeans. I look down at her hand, then to her with raised brows.

“You know, Luca,” she purrs, and runs her hand under my shirt and over my abs. “It’s been a while since the last time we got together. How about I meet you here after the shop closes and we go back to my place?”

Not waiting for my answer, she grabs my hand and places it over her right tit. I plump the soft mound, then tweak the nipple. Her back arches and she releases a low moan. Whitney’s a beautiful woman, and we’ve fucked a few times. Our relationship works perfectly because we both know the other isn’t looking for anything serious.

Tonight, however, I’m tired as fuck and just want to go home and fall into bed.

“Not tonight, Whit.” I release her nipple. “Maybe some other time.”

Her pretty lips form a pout and she swings her legs to the side. Her feet hit the floor on either side of mine. Her hand moves to the button on my jeans and she unsnaps it. “Are you sure I can’t change your mind?” she says seductively. She slowly slides down the zipper until my hard cock falls free. Her nails run the length of it before centering in on my Prince Albert piercing. I clench my teeth to hold back a groan.

If I was a smart man, I’d take her up on her offer. Fragments of my dream last night have run through my head over and over again today. Jacking off to those images didn’t do shit for me, only stirred the desire, making it stronger. I should drag Whitney back to my place and use her body to fuck the images away, and hope like hell this infatuation goes the hell away.

But as hard as my dick is right now with Whit’s mouth only inches away, I don’t want her. It’s not her I’m thinking about stripping bare and taking. It’s not her green eyes I want staring up at me, silently begging me to give her pleasure. And it’s not Whit I want to hold afterward as we both lie in the afterglow.

Feeling warm breath on my cock, I tangle my fingers in Whitney’s hair and pull her head back. She frowns, so I bend and place a kiss against her lips. They linger against hers for a moment before I pull away.

“As tempting as it is, I’m going to pass.” I try to soften the blow by giving her some of the truth. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately, and I’m wiped. I’d be no good for you tonight.”

She smiles, but I still see the disappointment in her eyes. Her hands move away from my dick and she reaches for her shirt. I zip and rebutton my pants.

“Okay. I’ll be alone tonight, so if you change your mind, call me.”

That’s what I love about Whitney. She doesn’t let my rejection bother her.

A moment later, she leaves the room, and I gather my tools and carry them to the autoclave to be cleaned once I cash out Whitney. After washing my hands, I walk to the front. Whitney is leaning over the counter, her elbows on the glass, talking to Jazz. Jazz is a big man, like really fucking big. He’s over six foot seven and has to weigh close to three hundred pounds, all pure muscle. He sports a long goatee that he puts in a braid when he’s working. His head is completely bald, but covered in tattoos. Not just any tattoos though; the crazy motherfucker has his wife’s name tattooed in multiple fonts, sizes, and colors. To say he’s crazy about her is an understatement.

“Thought you weren’t coming in today with Naomi being sick,” I remark as I finish dealing with Whitney.

A big grin splits across his face as he plays with his goatee braid.

“Looks like I’ll be needing a lot of extra hours to pay for the baby she’s giving me. Found out last night she’s pregnant.”

“That’s so exciting!” Whitney squeals, and walks around the counter to give Jazz a hug. Whitney’s sort of become a shop family member with how many times she’s come by to get work done. Naomi’s been in a couple of times when Jazz was tattooing her, and they’ve hit it off. “You tell that girl to call me tomorrow. I want to take her out to lunch to celebrate.”

“Will do, Whit.”

“Congratulations, man.” I shake his hand. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks. It’s been a long time coming.”

They’ve been trying for years to have a baby without success. Jazz may be rough around the edges and a brute, but I have no doubt he’ll adore his baby just as much as he does his wife. He’s a huge fucking softy when it comes to her.

The bell over the door rings and in walks Beck. His eyes immediately spot Whitney, and blatant appreciation flashes in them.

“Well, hello there, sugar. I was here to see this ugly fucker,” he juts his chin to me, “but seeing you here makes it so much better.”

She laughs and cocks her hip out to the side. “I can’t say you’re better-looking than Luca, but your definitely not hard to look at.”

Jazz and I laugh at the wounded look on his face.

“Ouch.” He clutches his chest “That doesn’t say much for my looks. Way to hurt a guy.”

Her eyes run over him heatedly. “I’m sure you’ll be just fine.” She’s still smiling when she turns to me and Jazz. “Thanks for the ink, Luca. And congrats on the news, Jazz. I’ll see you boys later.”

With a wave, and a silent reminder with her eyes to me to call her if I want company tonight, she turns and struts across the room. She pats Beck on the chest as she passes by him. “Later, handsome.”

Beck turns and watches her ass sashay from the shop before turning back to us. “Who in the hell was that?” he asks, walking over.

“Whitney,” I supply.

“Damn. Maybe I should come in here more often if that is part of your clientele.”

“I’ll tell her you’re interested.”

“You do that.”

The bell dings again, and Jazz’s customer walks in. He leads them to the back, leaving Beck and me alone.

“You here for more work?”

There’s not much left of Beck’s body that isn’t covered in ink.

He shakes his head. “Nope. I came by to tell you who I ran into at Bangers the other day.”

Bangers is a bar that’s right on the edge of the north side. One more block over and you’ll be on the south. It’s a place both sides frequent. I’ve been there quite a few times myself, but it’s been a while.

“Who?” I ask, having a feeling I already know.

“Chase and Cora,” Beck answers. “Since when have that bitch and asshole become an item?”

“No clue, but she was there when I paid him a visit after he fucked with Ella.”

His lip curls in disgust. “I don’t know which one to feel sorry for the most.”

I couldn’t agree with him more.

“I don’t care who either of them fuck, as long as they do it on their side.”

A sneer curves Beck’s lips. It’s a smile I’ve seen when he’s done something malicious.

“I noticed his face was healed from when you got a hold of him, so I may have fixed that little problem. I’m sure Cora’s pissed, because it’ll be a while before Chase’ll be able to get his tiny dick up for her.” His eyes turn thoughtful. “But then again, it’s Cora, so I’m sure she’ll find some other loser to fuck around with until then.”

“Fuckin’ A, Beck.” I aggravatedly run my fingers through my hair. “You gotta watch that shit. If his dad can link it back to you, you know he’ll use everything he can to put you behind bars.”

He chuckles and sits on the leather couch, leaning back and getting comfortable. “His dad won’t be finding out. Chase doesn’t even know who fucked him up.”

I nod, confident that what Beck is saying is true. The man’s a hothead, but he’s also smart and devious as hell. There’ve been plenty of times he’s fucked someone over and covered his tracks well. If he says Spencer won’t find out, then he won’t.

“What’s this shit I hear about Theo being married?” he asks.

I glance at the clock on the wall and see I have ten minutes before my next client is due. I lean back against the counter.

“You remember the car accident I had years ago?”

He squints his eyes for a moment, then nods. “Yeah. You were out of it for a couple of days, right?”

“Yes.” I cross my arms. “Do you remember me acting different before the accident?”

“Different how?”

“Like erratic or distracted by something.”

He thinks over my question. It’s been years, so he may not remember shit.

“I don’t know, man. Maybe. I do remember you disappeared a lot around that time.”

My teeth mash together, and I close my eyes, once again trying to pull up that day. I’ve tried so many times over the last few weeks to remember, and I always come up blank. The only memories I have of Jules are of her in my dreams.

“What’s going on, Luca?” Beck asks.

I open my eyes and look back at him, pissed that my brain isn’t fucking working.

“Apparently, Theo met a woman a few weeks before my accident. He kept it a secret from everyone, but I found out and became obsessed with her. I attacked her one day to keep them from leaving town. She’s been in a coma until recently. She’s doesn’t remember either, and I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.”

“Holy fuuuck.”

“Yeah. Fucked-up shit. I don’t remember her or what happened.”

“You believe Theo?”

“There’s no reason for me not to. I’ve been having dreams about her for years, and she’s always in pain or sad and begging me for something. It stands to reason she was begging me not to hurt her. I just don’t know what I did to her in the short time I was there. And that shit fucks with my head.”

“Damn.” Beck whistles low. “What are you going to do?”

“Stay as far away from her as possible.”

“Probably a good idea.”

The door opens, interrupting our conversation, and my client walks in. Beck leaves a few minutes later, after letting me know he’ll be in within the next few weeks to get ink on one of the few empty places left on his body.

As I get things ready for my next session, my words to Beck play over in my head. I haven’t allowed myself to acknowledge it until I told Beck, but what I told him was the truth.

From the dream I had of Jules crying and begging me to stop, it’s apparent something happened between the time I got to her house and the time I left.

The question is, what exactly happened? For some reason, I feel like the answer to that question will change me forever.