I CLOSE THE BATHROOM DOOR behind me before kicking it once, twice, three times for good measure. I need to reel it in. I have a client coming any minute, and I’m fucking losing it. It’s not only about Lo. It’s about the fact that I’ve spent ten fucking years working on my self-control, and I’ve blown it twice in twenty-four hours. First, when I fucked Lo without a rubber, and then again when I lost my shit in some bullshit attempt to protect her.
My self-preservation instincts war with my desire to keep her safe, and I don’t know what to do with it. She’s been here for a couple of weeks, and she’s bringing shit out of me that I thought had died long ago. Conflicted doesn’t even fucking begin to cover it.
I turn the metal knob on the sink and splash some water onto my face. Taking a deep breath, I open the door. I walk straight to my station and focus my attention on putting my tattoo machine together, sliding the needle through the tube before pushing it through the vise into the machine, snapping the rubber band around it, and plugging my clip cord in. I grab a few paper towels, a rinse cup, and some gloves while I wait for my client.
I don’t meet anyone’s eyes, tapping my foot restlessly. Everyone here knows me well enough to know that now is not the time. When I’m wound up like this, I need to get inked or fuck to get the anger out of my system. Right now, the closest option is tattooing.
Lo walks out from the back room, surprising me. I figured she’d go home, but here she is, heading to the front desk, looking calm and collected, the only signs of the earlier drama evident by her glassy eyes and red-tipped nose. Cord walks up to her, saying something quietly, and she nods her answer, giving him that bright smile. The fake one, I’m starting to realize. It makes me wonder how often she’s had to hide her pain to become a master at faking it.
She’s so fucking beautiful and complicated. Feral and distrustful. She’s beautiful when she’s smiling, when she’s crying, when she’s fighting, and when she’s writhing beneath me. We gave in to temptation last night, and I was being honest when I said it was a mistake. A complete and utter fucking mistake. Because I didn’t stop thinking about it once all day. At least, not until Eric showed up.
What kind of piece of shit touches a woman like that? For as long as I can remember, I’ve battled my anger, but even at my worst, I had my limits. I’ve never come close to hurting a female. The look on her face when he squeezed her arm flashes through my mind, causing my fist to clench around my machine. I knew something was off the second I saw them. I hung back observing, telling myself to stay the fuck out of it until she pushed him. When he violently jerked her arm, all bets were off. I didn’t plan to hit him. I wanted to fucking end him, but I’ve learned my lesson—at least, I thought I had. I let Lo get under my skin, and I lost control.
My next client interrupts my mental self-flagellation when he ambles through the door. His name is Lopez. One of my regulars. He’s inked from his feet to his shaved scalp, including a face tattoo—done by yours truly—that curves along the line of his jaw. The guy is so covered that I’m running out of room for ink.
“Hi.” Lo smiles warmly, not seeming even slightly put off by his appearance. I like that about her. She doesn’t judge anyone and treats everyone equally. “I think Dare’s ready for you,” she says without sparing me a glance. Lopez lifts his chin at me in greeting, and I wave him over.
“Who’s the dime piece up front?” Lopez asks once he’s in my chair. Lo pretends not to hear, but I see her back straighten.
“New girl,” I answer shortly. I snap my gloves on my hands and get to work on the piece. He wants “hopeless” in script above his left eyebrow. I will myself to relax—to let shit go—so I don’t unintentionally dig my needle too deep. Not that Lopez would mind. He’s in it for the pain, but he wouldn’t be too thrilled if my heavy hand caused scarring or an infection.
The session is quick, and after Lopez pays Lo, he walks backwards, looking her up and down, doing nothing to hide the fact that he’s checking her out before sending a wink in her direction.
This motherfucker.
I toss my gloves and wash my hands, and when I return, Lo’s cleaning my station. Her long, brown hair falls into her face as she bends over to wordlessly pick up an empty water bottle Lopez left behind. She puts on a good front, but I can tell she’s upset. Withdrawn. And suddenly, my shit takes the back seat. I have the urge to fix her problems. To get the fiery Lo back, that smile back—the real one.
Without thinking twice, I reach forward and swipe my thumb under her eye, rubbing away a streak of black. Hazel eyes flash up to mine, her lashes still wet and stuck together from crying.
“I’m sorry,” I say, not giving a fuck who hears me, letting my thumb linger on her cheek. Lo averts her eyes, severing the contact.
“Me, too. He shouldn’t have shown up like that. I don’t even know how he found me.” Her tone is deceptively casual, trying to minimize the situation.
“Cord, watch the door and listen for the phone for me?”
“Sure thing.”
I offer my palm to Lo, and this time she slips her hand into mine without hesitation. It’s small and warm against my skin. I lead her to the drawing room, hoping to convey with my eyes that I’m not going to freak out on her again while simultaneously hoping I can keep the unspoken promise.
Once inside, Lo leans her back against the door, closing it with a quiet snick. I take a seat on the couch, patting the space next to me. Lo angles her body toward me, one leg bent on the couch, one foot on the floor. I scrub both hands through my hair, not knowing where to begin.
“You don’t know how he found you?” She mentioned that he had ways of finding things out, and the fact that this guy not only got ahold of her number but her whereabouts doesn’t sit well with me.
“I have no idea. I haven’t told anyone where we are—” Lo stops short, eyes widening in realization. “My mom,” she says, shaking her head. “My fucking mother. Jess slipped up. Let her know where we were staying. It’s the only thing that makes sense. She’s the reason he has my phone number, too, I’m sure.”
“Stay with me tonight,” I say, surprising us both.
“What?” She’s taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation, but it makes perfect sense in my mind. Her ex is a threat. My house is safe. Simple.
“Stay with me,” I say more firmly this time. “We don’t know if he’s going to show up at your house or your job again tomorrow.” This guy doesn’t seem like he has any intention of giving up.
“I told you, he’s not dangerous. Besides, I can’t just leave Jess…”
“Goddammit, Lo. The guy manhandled you. Don’t tell me he’s not dangerous. He stalked you. He’s not going after your fucking brother.”
Lo sucks in a breath, her eyes rolling toward the ceiling, clearly losing patience. She pulls out her phone and taps at the screen for a minute before addressing me.
“Oh,” she says, a shocked expression on her face.
“What?”
“Jess is out to dinner…with Henry.”
“That’s good, right?” I ask, unable to read her reaction.
“It’s really good.” She taps out another text. “He also has no idea Eric’s in town. He would’ve been blowing my phone up.” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, thinking, before continuing, “I’m not going to bother him with this tonight. Jess hates him. He’d just worry if he knew, and he has enough on his plate.”
“So, you’ll come home with me tonight.”
“What did you tell Eric? How did you guys get him to leave?” Lo ignores my statement.
“Nothing.” I shrug. “He realized it was a fight he couldn’t win.” With a few friendly words and a not-so-friendly send-off from Matty, but I leave that part out.
“I don’t have a ride home,” Lo admits, as if suddenly remembering. “Jess has the car.”
“So it’s settled. You’re staying at my place. Friends, remember?”
The second half of my shift seemed to drag on longer than the goddamn Cold War. I don’t know what I was thinking…insisting she stay over when I can’t touch her. Just friends. Just this once, we’d said.
Now she’s here, on my couch, in my space. It’s completely foreign, having her here, yet something about it just fits.
“Do you want me to wash your clothes?” I ask, gesturing to her work shirt. She never ended up changing like she usually does after her shift at Blackbear.
“God, yes. I smell like grease.”
She doesn’t, but I don’t argue. Instead, I tell her to wait there while I change into a pair of gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt before grabbing extras for her.
She stands when I approach, holding out the clothes for her to take. “Bathroom’s—” I start, but Lo strips off her shirt, letting it fall the floor. Next is her bra. It’s simple and white, and I can see the outline of her pink nipples through the thin material.
“What are you doing?” I ask, swallowing hard as she turns her back to me, then reaches behind to unclasp the band.
“Getting dressed,” she says simply, holding her hand out in my direction. I toss her the shirt, and she pulls it over her head. She turns back around, my shirt hitting mid-thigh, then pulls down her pants and underwear together in one move. I hand her the sweatpants and she unfolds them, holding them in front of her hips before tossing them at my chest.
“Too big,” she explains, and my mind is instantly in the gutter. Lo scoops up her discarded clothes. “Where’s your washer?”
“I’ll take them.” Lo hesitates but hands them over and sits down on my couch cross-legged, her shirt riding up to her thighs but still managing to cover her bare pussy. I clench my teeth together and turn for the laundry room to keep myself from spreading those thighs open and burying my face between them. I look down at the pile of clothes in my hands, a scrap of white material sticking out of her jeans, and I mutter a curse under my breath before tossing them into the washer.
“You don’t have a TV?” Lo asks when I return. It’s always everyone’s first question.
“Nope. You hungry?” I open the fridge, looking for something to offer her, even though I basically only have beer, water, and eggs.
“Not really. I’ll take a beer, though, after this day.”
Relieved that I don’t have to try to throw something together, I grab two and hand her one as I sit next to her.
“Move in recently?” Lo asks after taking a swig, scanning the bare interior.
“Nah. I’ve lived here for years, actually. I just haven’t made it home yet.” I used to have a pool table to take up some of the open space, but I took it to the shop for the waiting room. I spent years renovating the place, making it my own…but when it was finished, it still didn’t feel like mine. If I bothered to psychoanalyze it, I’m sure it would boil down to constantly jumping from foster family to foster family, never really having a place to call home.
Lo yawns, stretching her arms over her head. Her nipples strain against the fabric of the shirt that inches farther up her thighs with the movement, so close to showing what’s between them. She’s taunting me, again. She knows exactly what she’s doing.
“About last night…” she changes the subject, addressing the elephant in the room. One of them, at least. “You said being with me was a mistake.”
“It was,” I say truthfully, and she swallows hard, keeping her expression neutral to mask the sting from my words. Always trying to play it cool, this girl. “But not in the way you’re thinking.” Her eyes meet mine, and I decide to lay it out there. We’ve already crossed the line. “It was a mistake to hire you because now I have to see you without having you every day. It was a mistake to sleep with you because I want to do it again.”
“Why can’t we?” Lo asks in that seductively sweet voice, her lips settling in a pout. I want to feel that mouth wrapped around me, sucking me, while she looks up at me from her knees.
“We said just friends,” I remind her, my voice coming out huskier than I intended. Lo rises to her knees and lifts a knee to straddle me, giving me a flash of pink before seating herself on my lap.
“I’m a shitty friend.” She’s grinding into me, only my sweatpants between us. “Besides,” she whispers, her lips ghosting along the shell of my ear, “sometimes, friends fuck.”
Lo’s hands reach for the band on my sweats before her warm hand circles my cock. I should stop her. She’s been harassed and manhandled, and here I am, fighting my desire to throw her down and make her mine.
Mine. What the fuck?
She isn’t mine. Not even close.
Lo pulls me out of my pants, and all thoughts of stopping this die as she shifts forward, sliding my dick between her lips. My hands land on the tops of her thighs, gripping hard.
“Fuck, Lo.”
Her eyes close and her hands brace against my shoulders as she rocks against me, cradling my cock in the warmest, wettest fucking heaven. It would be so easy to shift my hips and thrust inside her. One little move is all it would take.
“Do friends do this?”
“Absolutely fucking not,” I growl, smoothing my hands up to squeeze her ass, pulling her into me.
“What about…best friends?” she asks, breathless.
“If they do, I’ll be you best fucking friend forever.”
Lo giggles, and the sound makes my dick twitch. I push her shirt up, and she lifts her arms for me. Pale tits are decorated with purple marks from last night and the sight shouldn’t turn me on, but it does. I flatten my hands against her back, pulling her closer, then softly kissing and licking each mark. Lo sucks in a breath, hands sliding through my hair to keep me close. I suck on her, leaving my mark on her shoulder, collarbone, and underneath her ear while her breathing becomes ragged.
“Don’t make me beg.” Lo’s so wet that my sweats are a darker shade of gray beneath her. I fist her hair in my hands, scraping my teeth along the side of her neck.
“Remember when I said I didn’t have bad intentions?”
“Yes,” she whines, moving faster, and I feel like I could come from this alone.
“I changed my mind.”
“Good.”
I lift her at the curve in her hips, her knees landing on either side of my head against the back of the couch, and I latch my mouth to her pussy. Lo screams, fingers locking into my hair to keep her balance, but I don’t hold back. I feast on her like she’s my last meal as she rubs herself against me.
“Fuck my tongue.” I slide it inside her, and she clenches around my tongue. “You like that?” I ask, my hands on her ass, keeping her anchored to my face.
“Fuck yes.”
“Then you’re going to love this.” I slide my hand from her perfect ass to the wetness underneath before circling a finger around her other hole.
“Oh my God, Dare,” she whines, slowing her movements at the added sensation. “I can’t move. I can’t.” Her voice is desperate, legs locked tight. Barely breaking our connection, I throw her to the couch, my mouth on her clit, one hand sliding up her stomach, a finger from the other hand pressing against her ass. I don’t push inside yet, just rubbing, probing.
Lo presses against my finger, and she moans loudly, her back lifting from the couch, so I do it again before I flatten my palm against her sternum. I slide my hand up to curl my fingers around her throat, testing her reaction.
“Harder,” she demands, wrapping a hand around my wrist as her legs start to shake. I apply more pressure as I slip my middle finger inside her tight ring and suck her clit into my mouth.
“I want to fuck this soon.”
I only pump my finger once, twice, three times before she cries out, “Fuck!” Her legs lock up, and her mouth parts in a silent scream as she breaks apart.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Still gripping her throat, my thumb glides across her bottom lip before dipping inside her mouth. Her lips automatically close around it, giving it a little suck. I’m so fucking hard. It’s a miracle I haven’t fucked her yet, but seeing that was worth it.
Her body starts to relax, her legs falling limply to the side. I pull my finger from her body, pin her thighs flat to the couch and give her soft licks with the flat of my tongue as she comes down from her orgasm. Her chest heaves as I sit back on my heels, tearing off my shirt and taking my cock out. I take her by surprise when I hook my hands under her knees and jerk her toward me before guiding my dick inside her.
“I’m not done yet.” Fucking her spent, boneless body after I’ve made her come is quickly becoming my favorite pastime.
I fold her legs around my back and scoop her up, staying inside her as I walk up the stairs to my room. She tucks her head between my shoulder and my neck, nipping at my throat while each step has her bouncing on my cock.
Once we’re in my room, Lo squeals as I practically throw her off my dick and onto my bed. I shove my sweatpants down my legs, and her eyes are hungry as she takes me in.
“Turn around.”
She doesn’t ask for clarification. She moves onto her elbows and knees, sliding her hands forward until only her chest hits the bed, ass in the air. If I had my phone near me, I’d take a picture to remember this ass forever. Burning it into my brain will have to do.
I slap two palms against her cheeks before squeezing hard. I dip my head down to bite one side, then the other. She moans low and desperate as I knead and spread her cheeks. When I lean forward, giving her a long lick from clit to backside, she collapses onto the bed, one side of her face mashed into my black sheets.
“Get back here,” I say, grabbing her hips and angling her ass toward the sky while the rest of her body lies flat on the bed. I eat her like this, thighs touching, sliding my tongue between her lips before I pull back and straddle her thighs.
“Hold yourself open for me,” I say, and she complies, hair in her face, mouth parted as she spreads herself with both hands. I fist my length, guiding it to her entrance, dragging it through her wetness a few times before finally pushing inside.
“Oh fuck.” I thrust forward, keeping my hips flush against her ass. This position is going to kill me. If I could live in this pussy, I would. I start to move, and Lo presses back into me, her moans muffled by my mattress. I reach around to rub her clit, and she pulses around me almost instantly.
“Did you just come again?”
Lo looks at me over her shoulder and nods. Clutching her chin between my fingers, I lean forward and kiss her hard and deep. I’m not going to last long. Not when it’s like this.
When I pull back, my cock is coated with her cum. My balls tighten, and the sight of her pussy contracting back to normal, having been temporarily stretched by me, throws me into my orgasm. Lo still holds herself open, and I jerk myself hard, coming all over both her holes.
I slump forward on the bed next to her. There are no words, no movements, nothing besides our harsh breathing. Her hair sticks to her damp, rosy cheeks, and I reach over to tuck it behind her ear.
“Big mistake,” I say, tracing my fingers along her ear, jaw, neck, shoulder…she shivers at my touch, eyes at half-mast. I skim down her back, and she arches prettily once I get to the dip in her spine. I slip my fingers between her legs, sliding them through the mess we made. She gives a soft moan.
“Huge.”