by T Gephart
His eyebrow rose as he lowered his beer. “With women?”
The head nod in the affirmative enough for him to keep going.
“You aren’t worried you’re going to catch it?” The bastard smirked, the sarcasm dripping from his voice.
“You want me to tell King Kong sitting next to us that you think he looks sexy in his jeans?” My chin tipped to our neighbor, who was doing his best to ignore us. Besides, it looked like shooting evil stares at the hipsters across the bar was a full-time job. He was probably too busy to worry about either of us.
Mason’s eyes flicked to the big guy and laughed. “Let’s say that’s a firm no on that. But if you want the truth, I get turned on by their minds, just as much as their bodies. Trust me, once you start finding out what they like and don’t like, and what really makes them tick? A whole new world, brother.”
He didn’t even try to hide his smug grin, looking like he had some super-secret key to unlocking the best sex ever.
“You’re so full of shit.” I chuckled, feeling sorry for the guy. The only kind of man who needed to stop and ask for directions was a dude who didn’t know what the hell he was doing. And trust me, I knew plenty. “I have never had a woman who wasn’t completely satisfied. I feel it in their bodies, hear it in the way their breathing changes—I don’t need them to tell me when I have an inbuilt compass.”
Mason’s head shook, disagreeing with me as he leaned in closer. “You misunderstood me. The whole new world isn’t for them. It’s for you. It takes the high to another level. It’s like getting to drink a really good wine. And once you’ve had that, you won’t be satisfied with the bottle of Boone’s Farm you used to think was okay.”
Firstly, I hated wine. All kinds. And I especially didn’t drink grape juice that was flavored like Kool-Aid so dipshits could get drunk for three-dollars and ninety-nine cents. And secondly, that sun in San Diego must have baked the poor idiot’s brain, because if he didn’t think I was living the dream, then there was no helping him.
“You been smoking weed, sunshine?” I cocked a brow, not sure if he was serious or jerking my chain. “Josh had to have told you about me, right? Everything about me is top shelf—my art, my ability in the studio and everything else.” I figured he was a smart enough guy not to need it spelled out.
“Hey, like I said before, you do whatever you like. But you asked me, remember?” He conceded, holding his hands up.
Fuck.
I hated it when someone was right.
Not about me needing coaching in the bedroom, because there’d be a cold day in hell before I’d ever need that. But about being the one who asked.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s talk about something else. Tell me if Joe is still as big a jerkoff as he used to be.”
Mason took the hint and diverted the conversation back to his previous life out west. I tried to listen, hearing snippets on how he’d met Joe and become an apprentice. Then rattling more bullshit on how art was his only true way of expression blah, blah, blah.
But as I listened, the shit he’d said earlier ate at me.
Like he knew something I didn’t, and I’d somehow missed out.
I didn’t usually have issues with my confidence. Pretty sure I had loads to spare. But the douchebag looked so freaking sure of himself. And just a look around the bar at all the eyes of appreciation on him proved he could have any woman he wanted.
And yet, there he was, talking to me about growing up without any parents, and missing his sister, and I swear if he says art is my life one more time, I’d probably puke.
“Yeah. Great. Sounds good.” I nodded, not sure at what point of the conversation we were at. Hopefully it wasn’t anything to do with him being an orphan or something like that. I wasn’t a complete heartless bastard.
Mason stopped, looking at me like I’d grown another head. “You didn’t hear anything I just said, did you?”
“Of course I did,” I scoffed, not willing to admit I’d zoned out like one beer and half an hour ago. “Art is your life,” I repeated, the words not sounding any better coming out of my mouth than they did out of his.
He laughed, handing me the next beer he’d obviously ordered while I was pondering, and pointed discreetly to a brunette across the bar. “I said, she’s been staring at you for twenty minutes straight. And I was asking if you knew her.”
My eyes rose to the hottie who was indeed staring. I’d been so caught up in my own thoughts to even notice. “Nope, but looks like someone I’d like to meet.” I shot her a grin, the pink hitting her cheeks as she quickly turned away like she was embarrassed.
Hmmm. A shy one. Hadn’t had one of those in a while.
“She’s kind of cute.” Mason lowered his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You want to go over and say hi?”
Go over and say fucking hi?
“Bud, seriously. You know we’re men, right? We don’t say hi.” I laughed, admitting that while I still hadn’t worked him out totally, I didn’t outright hate the guy.
He had some good qualities.
Keeping an eye out for prospective talent was one he’d already proved. So maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.
“Nope, I’ve let her know I’m interested. Ten-to-one, she’ll come over herself. Or, if you like what you see, feel free to go there yourself.”
He coughed, choking on his drink. “Thanks, but I highly doubt she’s interested in me. And I’m not the kind of guy to make a move on a woman when another guy is involved. That leads to nothing but a mess. Besides, we’ve already discussed my feelings on hooking up in bars.”
“Suit yourself.” I shrugged. “But there would have been no bad blood on my end. She just seemed more your speed, looked like she might want to chat.” I laughed.
My mouth savored the beer, grinning as a pair of blondes shimmied our way. “And I have a feeling something better is about to come along anyway.”
Mason followed my line of sight, seeing the twin beauties headed in our direction. He might be up in his ivory tower with the get-to-know-their-minds BS, but I had no problem with getting to know their bodies first. “Be a team player and keep the purity ring under wraps,” I coughed out, smiling at the dynamic duo. Given a choice I’d keep them both myself, but I wasn’t sure if they were a package deal.
Mason nodded, though I wasn’t sure how much of a wingman he was going to be. But I swear to God if he ruined it for me, I was shipping his ass back to California.
“Ladies.” I lifted my beer in greeting as I tipped my head in appreciation. They weren’t drop-dead gorgeous, but they’d do.
“Hey, Dallas.” One of the ladies draped her arms around my neck. “Who’s your new friend?”
Firstly, I had no idea who either of them were despite at least one of them knowing my name. And secondly, the smile she was giving me reeked of prior familiarity.
Shit.
“Ahhhh, that would be Mason.” I swiveled toward him seeing he had his own blond accessory, trying to throw her hands over him like a scarf. “He’s new in town.”
I’d hoped one of them—and I didn’t care which—would handle the introduction, their names kick-starting a memory or two. I didn’t want to commit myself to a repeat performance until I was positive the previous encounter had been pleasant.
“Faith.”
“Lucy.”
Mine then his responded, their names fired out without any fancy preamble.
And even with the new info, I was still no wiser in who they were or when we’d met.
Well, to be honest, names had never been my forte, so it wasn’t exactly a shock on the lack of recall. The one thing I could trust were my hands; the fingers unoccupied by the beer made their way across Faith’s waist hoping to get a feel in more ways than one.
Ahhhhh so that was who she was.
What I’d lacked in memory I’d made up for in tactile recognition, able to know exactly when we’d met and what we’d done as I braille read her body.
&n
bsp; Left thigh tattoo.
Butterfly.
Except it hadn’t been her body I had worked on. It had been some other woman, the Lucy she was currently with not the same BFF I’d remembered. Left-thigh-butterfly had cried most of the time, Faith holding her hand. Didn’t flirt, didn’t acknowledge me—letting me do my work without a single sexy look. It was two weeks later when we ran into each other at a nightclub in Brooklyn that she gave me her full attention.
Didn’t even wait to get me home, dragging me into the ladies bathroom where I pounded her from behind.
And then like the perfect one-night stand, she vanished into thin air after we left the bathroom.
I could do a repeat.
Especially since the bar we were in had recently refurb’d the bathrooms.
“So, Mason, where are you from?” Lucy asked, batting her eyelashes at him despite him giving her no encouragement. “You here on business or pleasure?”
While I could tell she was aiming for sexy, she fell short on flirtation. But to Mason’s credit, he answered her like she’d asked a genuine question, trying to keep her hands above his belt while he looked at me for help.
“I just started working with Josh and Dallas.”
“How fun.” Faith moved her body into my lap, smirked at her friend and then turned to Mason. “You’re going to love working at Ink Addiction, Josh is fantastic and Dallas is soooo talented.”
Usually I loved hearing about my talent—in or out of the sack—but her tone had been off, like she wasn’t sincere.
It was too enthusiastic.
The words sounded hollow.
And as much as I hated to admit it, I’d heard enough of those to know the difference.
Interesting.
“Well, thanks for the recommendation,” I responded coolly, still unsure if she was trying too hard or she was nervous.
Whatever her angle was, she had no reason to lie. Her friend had gotten a Monarch so freaking realistic it looked like it was going to lift right off her skin, and Faith got two orgasms before I claimed my own. Then she’d done a disappearing act, for which I hadn’t even hinted to be mad about.
If she was trying to be defensive for any shade I might throw her way, she didn’t have to bother.
“Mason is from San Diego,” I offered, deciding more conversation was needed. “And I was pointing out how awesome it is here.”
Lucy had given up trying to touch him, deciding pushing out her tits would be more affective. Pity she had no idea that Mason had more interest in hearing her life story than sliding his hand down her top.
“Can we buy you ladies a drink?” Mason asked, being a gentleman and ignoring the breasts that were in his face. That was pretty strong resolve right there.
“Um, no we’re fine,” Faith answered quickly for both of them. “We had one earlier.” She leaned in closer, rubbing her body against mine.
There weren’t many women who turned down a drink, but I didn’t ask questions. I was too distracted by the sexy dance she seemed to be performing, her body teasing mine without me even asking.
She was making it clear she wanted me to touch her, which wasn’t a hardship. My hands were already there, and even though part of my brain was telling me it was a bad idea, I decided to give the girl what she wanted.
To say it felt wrong was an understatement, but not because I was suddenly growing a conscience. There was just something about the way her body tensed despite her flashing me a neon sign that she wanted my hands or anything else from me.
If Mason’s preaching had sunk into my brain and ruined what used to be amazing, I was going to have to knock the dude out. I had a relatively pretty girl in my lap and I was doing more thinking than I liked.
A purr spilled from her lips, appreciating the attention I was giving her as Mason unwrapped himself from Lucy and excused himself to go to the bathroom.
Not sure if he genuinely needed to take a piss or his dedication was starting to wane. After all, Lucy was giving him a look that said she’d probably drop to her knees and blow him right there if he’d asked. At the very least he was going to need to re-rack what was in his pants.
Lucy parked herself on the newly vacated stool while Faith leaned in. Her hands moved up my thighs as she brought her lips closer. I wasn’t sure if she was trying to tease me or wanted me to take charge, but unless I was reading her entirely wrong, she wanted my mouth on hers.
“Hey, Dallas, we need to go.” Mason had either taken the quickest bathroom break in history or had a severe case of performance anxiety.
Oh, and he was cockblocking me after he told me he was going to be a team player.
Not cool.
“What’s the rush?” I bit back, my agitation pretty clear as I speared him with a glance.
Faith had pulled back, the interruption cooling her seduction. “You can’t stay a little bit longer?” she asked, gripping the front of my T-shirt in what was disappointment or annoyance. And I completely got it too because I wasn’t exactly pleased either. Especially when I was trying to be charitable and let the new guy hang with me.
Mason held his phone up and waved it in his hand. “Josh called, said there was an emergency at the shop. We need to go.”
While I was bewildered beyond measure that Josh had called Mason instead of me, I would argue about the phone tree later. Josh needed me and that was all I needed to hear, no woman or anything else was getting in my way.
“Sorry ladies, we’re out.” I almost shoved Faith off of my lap and reached for my keys. “Let’s go.” I headed for the door not bothering to see if Mason was behind me.
We reached the front door at the same time, the big guy waiting as I pushed through and exited into the street. “What did he say? We heading to the shop?” I talked and walked, my singular focus on getting wherever I needed to be. Josh rarely asked for my help, so the one time he did, I wasn’t going to let him down.
“Yeah, the shop.” Mason shoved his phone into his jeans as I unlocked my car.
He didn’t give me any further instructions, getting into the passenger seat while I took mine behind the wheel. The engine of my Vette roared to life as I hightailed onto the road.
Without thinking I pulled out my phone and started dialing, Mason reaching out and yanking my cell from my hand. “What are you doing?” I spat out, my eyes shot to his as I concentrated on steering.
“Just pull over.” He pointed to an abandoned hardware store, its empty parking lot a ghost town.
I shook my head, wondering how I was going to choke him out and keep my hands on the wheel, a little tired of his good boy attitude. “Dude, I can drive and talk at the same time. I will put it on speaker, and quit being a dick and hand me back my phone.” Pulling over wasn’t an option, especially since I had no idea what the emergency was and we were only ten minutes away from the shop.
“Dallas, for real. Stop the car, I don’t want you to wreck when I tell you.”
My head whipped around almost driving off the road, the situation critical as I thought of every worst-case scenario that involved my best friend. “Stop fucking with me, Mason. What the hell happened to Josh?”
“I lied.” He blew out a breath. “But it was the only thing I could think of. Josh didn’t call and there is no emergency.”
Pulling the steering wheel hard to the side, we skidded to a stop on the curb. Some asshole behind me flipped me off, beeping his horn and calling me a dick as he went past, but I didn’t care. I needed to know what the hell was going on and how I was going to explain to Josh our new tattooist had gone missing.
“Listen, Mason.” He was lucky I was still using his name and not one of the alternatives floating around in my head. “I don’t give two shits about you and your wishes of abstaining. You live your life and keep your balls for decoration, it’s all good with me. But don’t you dare try and push your agenda on me. Who the hell are you, anyway? Some kind of traveling monk?”
The dude had the good sense to look wo
rried, holding up his hands in surrender. “Dallas, it has nothing to do with that. I don’t have an agenda, and I personally don’t care if you screw both of them at the same time.”
“Then why the hell did you yank the ejection handle?” I fired back, annoyed, with a side order of sexually frustrated.
“Because, while I might not have cared, the dude watching it go down probably would have.”
“What the fuck?” I reared back, the words not making any sense. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He thumbed over his shoulder in the direction of the bar. “That woman who was trying to make a move had a dude about my size watching the entire time. Not sure if he was her boyfriend, her husband, her brother, or some other asshole she was trying to make jealous. But he was with his friends, and like five minutes away from walking up to you and taking a shot.”
“No, no, no.” I shook my head, Mason clearly mistaken and/or delusional. “Dude, I already had sex with her like three months ago or something.”
“Yeah, and how did that go for you?” His raised brow cocked like he was expecting details.
“Hey, I’m not a choirboy like you, man, but I don’t go into the play-by-play,” I fired back, floored by his nerve. He was the new guy for Christ’s sake; I didn’t even know him and he’d already pissed me off more times than I could count.
“I don’t want to know what you did, dude. All I’m saying is I have witnessed enough bar fights and pissed off boyfriends to see a revenge fuck when it’s about to go down.”
Now that I thought about it, she had been a little weird.
Didn’t want a drink.
Didn’t want conversation.
And seemed hell bent on getting me to make the first move.
Ordinarily I’d say it sounded perfect, but we’d already been there and done that so all she needed to do was ask and she probably would have received.
“Yeah, whatever,” I huffed out, slightly annoyed he might have been right. While it wouldn’t be the first time I’d been involved with a girl who was already taken, I didn’t like the drama that came with it.
Yeah, thanks but no thanks.