by Chelle Bliss
I shake my head, turning the bottle in my hands, trying not to make it completely obvious that I’m fumbling for an answer. “It’s a small boutique house in LA, serving only a few select clients.”
“Do you work with celebrities?” Her eyes get wide. “You have to tell me who.”
“One or two, maybe.” I smile nervously. “But we have strict NDAs.”
“NDA?” she asks, blinking.
“Nondisclosure agreements.”
“Damn,” she hisses. “That sucks.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, nodding slowly. “Totally.”
“Are we done with the third degree?” Nick asks, staring down his cousins.
Gigi peers over the rim of her drink. “It’s called small talk, Nicky. You should try it sometime.”
I let out a giggle at his nickname and the fact that they’re quick to put him in his place. And when Nick’s eyes swing my way, I slap my hand across my mouth, trying to stifle the sound.
“Something funny?”
I shake my head, holding my hand against my mouth to stop myself from laughing louder.
He stares at me for a moment, our eyes locked. His face is serious while mine is contorted as I try to fight off the giggle, but the look on his face only makes it harder.
“Let me show you how small talk works,” Gigi tells him and turns her gaze toward her cousin Tamara. “How was work today?”
“Uneventful. Finished a car. Worked on some ads.”
Her husband kisses her temple. “Don’t let her fool you. She started a massive ad campaign that already has the phone ringing off the hook.”
“Thanks, Sparky.” She smiles, melting into his touch.
“Big deal,” Lily, the quieter of the three cousins, announces. “I pierced ten peens this week and so many nips, I lost count.”
“Peens and nips?” I ask.
“Cocks and tits,” Tamara answers. “Lily isn’t into ink like Gigi and Pike, but she is one of the best damn body piercers in the area.”
“Dayum. That has to be painful.”
“Which one?” Lily asks me.
I shrug. “Both sound awful.”
“I don’t know,” she replies. “All the guys at the table have their peens pierced, and the girls…well, I’m the only one with my nipples still how they were when I was born.”
I turn my head, swinging my gaze to Nick, and blush. Based on what she said, Nick has his peen pierced too.
“I know you’re thinking about my cock now, babe. Can see it in your eyes.” Nick smirks.
“I am not,” I shoot back, lying my ass off because I am, in fact, thinking about his dick.
He raises an eyebrow, staring down at me with those haunting blue eyes.
“Okay. Okay. Maybe a little, but more about the piercing than your actual manhood.” I smile, feeling proud of myself and my answer, even if the words aren’t true.
“Lily,” Gigi pipes up, leaning back in her chair. “Your nipples are far from how they were when you were born. Breastfeeding has massacred them.”
“No, it didn’t,” Lily argues, bringing her hands up to cup her breasts. “I mean, they’re still there, and they’re not that bad.”
“I’ve seen them,” Tamara tells the table. “They’re almost normal.”
“You’re an asshole,” Lily snaps.
Tamara smiles. “Sweetie, be proud of those things. You can almost poke an eye out with them. If I’ve ever seen a set of nipples that should be pierced, it’s yours. You should think about doing it.”
“I know, but…” Her voice trails off. “I can’t pierce myself, and who the hell else am I going to ask to do them for me? My dad?” Her eyes widen. “That wouldn’t be horrifying or anything.”
I laugh again, this time quieter and behind the safety of my beer bottle. I love how open they are with one another. How real they are with one another. Something I don’t experience much with the people in my life back in California.
I also like that they don’t seem to know who I am, and if they do, they don’t care. It’s nice to be a normal person, blending in with those around me instead of sticking out like a sore thumb.
“I can do them,” Pike, Gigi’s man, offers, and all eyes turn on him as the table quiets. “What?”
“You’d pierce her nipples?” Gigi asks, blinking at him like someone’s poked her in her eye.
“Well, I mean…” He smiles. “No one else in the shop has piercing experience except me. You going to do it?” he asks her.
Gigi’s lips twist, but she holds his gaze. “I’d do an awful job. They’d probably be lopsided or some shit. So, the answer is no, but I can’t believe how quickly you offered your services.”
“Darlin’, they’re nipples, and it’s work.”
“I don’t know how I feel about you seeing my wife’s breasts,” Jett tells Pike.
The conversation is so refreshing. Any other people in the world and we’d be talking about my life, my parents’ lives, or celebrities. But not with this group. They’re busy discussing nipples and penises like they’re talking about the weather and if it’ll rain next week.
Pike cocks his head, staring down Jett. “Do you want her dad to do it? ’Cause I’m sure that would be a lovely conversation to have with Mike about how you want his daughter to pierce her nipples to help heighten her pleasure during sex.”
“Oh Jesus,” Lily mumbles, covering her face with her palms. “Can we stop talking about my breasts?”
“No,” Tamara laughs.
Nick leans over, bringing his mouth so close to my ear, I can feel his warm breath against my skin. “I’m sorry about this.”
I turn my face, our lips close enough I could kiss him. “Why?” I ask, soaking in the blueness of his eyes, almost losing myself in their depths. “I’m having a good time. They’re really great. You’re lucky to have such a close relationship with them.”
He stares back at me, his eyes roaming my face but otherwise unreadable. “As long as they’re not making you uncomfortable.”
“Not at all, but I could use another drink.”
“Another beer?” he asks.
“No.” I stare into his eyes from only a few inches away. “Something harder.”
I don’t need to pull back to know there’s a smile on his face. “You want hard, babe, I got you covered.”
Fuck.
My mind instantly goes to his dick and the fact that it’s pierced. I wonder what kind, how big, and what it looks like. All questions I’ll never have answered and never had in my mind until a few minutes ago.
Nick lifts his hand, motioning over the thirsty waitress again. She’s quick too, almost tripping over a few people as she runs toward the table.
“Hey,” she wheezes.
“A round of Jäger for the entire table.”
“Oh lord. It’s going to be one of those nights,” one of the cousins mutters, but I’m too busy gawking at Nick.
The waitress smiles down at him, leaning too far into his personal space. A few more inches and her tits would be right in his face again. “Can I get you anything else?”
Without hesitation and like he’s done it a million times before, Nick slides his arm around me, resting his hand on my shoulder. “We’re good.”
I smile, leaning into him, plastering myself against his hard body. “Yeah, we’re good,” I repeat, sounding like a complete moron.
The woman gives me a sour look before she stalks away, not as happy as she was when she arrived.
“Do you have any piercings?” one of the cousins asks me, but I’m too busy staring at Nick and loving the way his body feels against mine to even notice.
“What?” I ask, blinking away the fog of lust, and turn my attention back toward the rest of the table. “Were you talking to me or her?”
Gigi swipes her hand through the air in the direction the big-breasted bimbo walked away. “Not her. You, silly. Do you have any piercings or tattoos?”
I suddenly feel out of place. �
�No.”
Tamara gawks at me. “Not even a small tattoo hidden somewhere on your body?”
I shake my head.
“We should fix that,” she tells me. “Something small and meaningful.”
“I don’t know,” I say, my voice wavering.
“Think about it. Gigi and Pike are some of the best tattoo artists in the state,” she replies. “I’d hate for you to leave without something to remember your trip by.”
“There are less painful souvenirs,” Mammoth states the obvious. “Tattoos aren’t something to jump into without thought.”
Tamara lifts her hand to his face, running her fingers over his beard. “Sparky, you’re covered in tats. I don’t think one little quarter-sized tattoo on her body will be life-altering. She could put it on her back even, and then she’ll never have to see it again. It’ll be there, imprinted on her skin like ink in a book, telling part of her life’s story.”
“You make it sound so beautiful,” Lily says. “You should really work on an ad campaign for the shop.”
“We don’t need more business,” Gigi tells Lily, shaking her head. “We’re already booked three months out, for fuck’s sake.”
“You can never have too much business,” Mammoth tells Gigi, pointing his index finger at her while the rest of his fingers are wrapped around a beer bottle. “It’s better to have a wait list than no list at all.”
“We have a very, very, very long wait list.”
“Here we go,” Thirsty Corinne sings, placing the tray of shots on the table. She sets everyone’s down gingerly, Pike taking Gigi’s, until she gets to me, and then she slams the sucker down so hard, half of mine splashes out onto the table. “Enjoy.” And with that, she’s gone.
“Think she finally realized she isn’t getting any Nicky dick anytime soon?” Gigi teases, laughing hysterically.
“I fuckin’ hope so,” Nick mutters.
“You said Nicky dick,” Lily repeats, giggling. “That sounded so…”
“Childish?” Gigi asks, finishing the statement.
“I don’t know. It was quite original,” Pike tells her, earning him two middle fingers and a playful smile.
He reaches over, hauling her onto his lap. His arms tighten around her, and she wiggles against his legs, laughing. “Is that a promise, darlin’?” he asks quietly against her ear, but loud enough for everyone at the table to hear.
There are a few things I know in this moment.
One.
I really like these people. Everything about them is fun and easy. The love is evident. I instantly wish I had cousins to sit around with and laugh, teasing one another over stupid shit.
Two.
I’ve missed out on a lot in life. My parents are shit, and their families are even bigger shit. After my parents hit it big in Hollywood, they immediately distanced themselves from their families. They felt the move was justified, but I was the one who ultimately paid the price.
Three.
Nick may have talked in partial sentences and come off like a smug, arrogant asshole, but he is more. His family loves him, and he is funny, sexy, and can flirt without putting in much effort.
Four.
If I stick around too long, leaving will be impossible.
7
Nick
“Nicky,” she slurs, pawing at the buckle on my jeans as I set her on my bed. “Lemme shee it.”
I grab her hands, moving them away from my dick, hanging on by a thread here. “Someone had too much Jäger.”
“It was so good, though,” she laments, smiling so big, her eyes close.
“You won’t be saying that in the morning, babe.”
“You know…” She collapses backward, closing her eyes as her head hits the mattress. “I used to hate when you called me babe, but now…” She stops talking, and I think she’s passed out. I back away, but her leg comes out, hooking her heel around my calf like she has drunk superpowers. “Now, I like it.”
I bend over, grabbing her foot and prying it loose from my body. “That’s good, babe. Whatever makes you happy.”
“You want to make me happy? Show me your peen.” She instantly giggles, rolling to her side and trying to push herself up but failing.
I shake my head, staring down at her. “That’s a hard no.”
“Nicky,” she mumbles, doing everything she can to make her eyes open wider and looking absolutely ridiculous. “Don’t say hard when talking about your peen.”
“Don’t talk about my dick by calling it a peen.”
She giggles again, totally drunk and freaking adorable as fuck. “Fine. Show me your dick.”
“It’s still a no, babe.”
She moves like a ninja and has her hands at my belt buckle again. “Come on. A little peek.”
I grab her wrists, stopping her. “Tomorrow.”
She tips her head back, staring at me with eyes that aren’t focusing. “You promise?”
“I do,” I lie. “You can see it all you want tomorrow.”
Damn it.
There’s nothing in the world I’d love to do more than show her my cock, but not while she’s drunk. I don’t want to be anyone’s regret, and I sure as hell don’t bang chicks so fucked up, they won’t have any memories of the experience the next day.
She gives me a lopsided smile, no longer struggling to break her hands free of my hold. “As long as you promise.”
“I do.”
She leans back, trying to take me with her, but I let go, and she falls back. “Can I ask one more thing?” she asks, stretching against my mattress, looking perfect in my bed.
“Sure, babe. Anything.”
“Will you lie with me tonight? I’m lonely.”
I glance up, cursing the fucking universe for putting me in this situation, but I have no one to blame except myself. I was the rocket scientist who offered her a place to stay. I could’ve and probably should’ve sent her on her way after I picked up her suitcase at the hotel, but something about it didn’t feel right.
“Please,” she begs, running her hand along the mattress next to her. “I won’t try anything. I promise.”
I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. She’s so drunk, she has no idea how much I want to crawl in the bed and fuck her for hours. It’s no hardship being around her. She’s beautiful, thoughtful, and although some parts of her life might be a mess, she’s not a complete disaster. I can’t say that about most of the chicks who end up under me.
I rub the back of my neck as she wiggles her fingers, still silently pleading with me to join her.
“Come on. I’ll behave,” she promises. “Hold me for one night, and I’ll never ask for anything again.”
“It’s not a good idea.”
“Jamison never held me,” she confesses. “No one has in years.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, toeing off my boots before yanking my T-shirt over my head.
She tips her head, staring at my body. “God, you’re so pretty.”
“No more talking,” I tell her as I slide into the bed next to her.
She curls into me instantly, resting her head on my shoulder. “No more talking,” she repeats.
I turn my head as I snake my arm around her back, finding a bare patch of skin to rest my hand on. “Night, babe.”
“Night, Nicky.”
“Sweet dreams,” I reply to her.
She nuzzles harder against my side, tilting her head to look at me. “I hope they’re dreams of you.”
My stomach twists and turns before knotting. “Eyes, babe.”
She blinks, batting her eyelashes, still not focusing on my face.
“Close ’em,” I tell her, holding her tighter.
Her eyes flutter closed, and she sighs, sounding content in my arms. She feels like she belongs there, which, to me, is more than troubling.
I bury my face in the pile of blond hair and inhale the scent of lavender, something I get a whiff of every time she comes near me.
&nbs
p; She lifts her leg, throwing it over mine. “So warm,” she breathes.
“Sleep,” I repeat, and a few moments later, she’s out.
I’m not far behind as I stare at the ceiling, wondering how I was stupid enough to put myself in this kind of situation. One where I am falling a little bit for a woman I’ve only known for twenty-four hours.
I know nothing about her, but none of that seems to matter.
The only thing I know for sure is that she feels like she was made to sleep in my arms every night. And I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to sleep without her there again.
Hot. All I can feel is overwhelming heat, almost suffocating me. My eyes snap open, and the weight hits me next, followed by another wave of warmth.
I tip my head down, finding Jo’s body on top of me, her head nestled in my chest, her arms at my sides, hands holding my arms. Her legs are caged in mine and her middle is resting against my very hard morning wood.
Shit.
I suck in a breath, staring back up at the ceiling, and slide my hands under her armpits, trying to move her off me and praying she doesn’t wake up.
“No,” her small voice objects, groggy with sleep, and I freeze. “Don’t move.”
“I’m hot, babe.”
“Yes, yes, you are.” She tightens her hold, locking my body under hers. “But if you move right now, I think I’ll lose everything in my stomach.”
“You need some water.”
“I need stillness,” she begs and then groans, smashing her face into my bare chest. “And quiet.”
“Babe.” I move my hands to her back, rubbing small circles against the skin at the top of her bra she somehow stripped down to while I was sleeping. “We can’t stay like this forever. You need water and nourishment.”
She grips my biceps harder. “I need five more minutes before I attempt to move.”
“Five minutes,” I mutter, keeping the circles going, hoping to stave off her throwing up the remains of last night all over me and my bed.
I slept like a rock. I didn’t feel her get out of bed to toss her shirt to the side, and I didn’t feel her climbing on top of me, attaching her body to mine like she was one of those finger monkey toys Lily’s daughter seems to love so much.