by Jaci J
Shay digs her nails into my shoulders, her lips swollen and pink.
“Feel good, baby?”
“So damn good,” she groans, barely able to answer me.
She’s goddamn right it does. It feels like fucking heaven.
I fuck her good and hard, giving her everything I’ve got, and she takes it, asking for more.
Hard and demanding, I fuck her until we’re both coming.
She sighs, blowing out a deep breath, “Damn, Niko.”
“Yeah, baby. Damn.”
Jesus, there’s no coming back from that shit, no surviving Shay. Not for me anyway.
29
Shay
“Shouldn’t I be at the bar finishing up the mural?” I ask Niko, looking around the locker room, wondering why I’m here.
Niko frowns, unwrapping the tape from his hands and knuckles. The white is no longer nice and clean, but smeared with blood. Looking up at me, he grunts, “I’ve shared you all week, and now I’m done with that shit.”
The man is insane. “You’re done sharing me? With what? The bar wall?”
“You’re a fucking smart-ass,” he growls, wrapping a big hand around my wrist and tugging me into his hard, sweaty chest.
I want to be disgusted, but it’s hard to be when I just want to lick him.
“Since you can’t share me, then what are you going to do with me?”
“Lock your ass in my room and chain you to my bed.”
“Can I eat first?” I ask, looking up at him and batting my lashes. I’ve been locked away in the bar all day, too focused to eat, and now I’m paying for it. “I’m starving.”
“I’ll feed you.”
“That sounded dirty.”
His dark eyes dance with mischief. “It was supposed to.”
Rolling my eyes, I sit down on the bench in the locker room and just stare at him.
“Tongue back in your mouth, Shay. Unless you wanna wrap it around my cock.”
I snort at that. “You gonna feed me? And I don’t mean your cock.”
NIKO’S GOT ME ON HIS kitchen counter while he cooks, wearing nothing but one of his band tees and nothing else. He stands between my thighs, reaching for something in the cupboard above me.
We’ve been doing this a while, at least a few weeks. Niko works all day while I paint, and then he brings me home, back to his place. We cook, we eat, we hang out, we fuck, and then we sleep. It’s good. I like it. I more than like it.
I’m getting comfortable.
“Niko?”
He looks down at me, still between my legs. “What?”
“You get any closer to me, we’ll fuse into one body.”
He chuckles, grabbing a plate from above me. “You gonna keep giving me shit, or are you gonna hop in the shower before this food’s done?”
“Don’t know.”
He slaps my thigh. “You’re a fucking smart-ass, baby.”
“Am I?” I jest, hopping off the counter and onto my feet.
“You gonna get in that fucking shower, or am I gonna have to put your ass in it?”
Actually, I like the sound of that.
“Why you so worried about me taking a shower?”
“So I don’t have to wait an hour later to fuck you. You take for fucking ever.”
“Yeah,” I sigh, checking my chipping nail polish before bringing my gaze up to him, slow and seductively. “I don’t think I’m gonna shower right now.”
Frowning, Niko’s lip curls. I watch him set down the wooden spatula and flip off the stove, a devilish look in his eye.
I love to goad him, love to tease and push him. Love to be around him, spend time with him.
I’m in love with him.
The thought hits me like a ton of bricks, heavy and crushing. I love Niko. I have for a while.
“Shay.” Niko growls my name, stalking toward me, his steps methodical and patient. He’s got one thing on his mind, and it’s the same thing that’s on mine. “C’mere.”
I back away, fighting the smile tugging at my lips. “Nah, I got shit to do.”
“Yeah, you fucking do.” He reaches out and grabs for me. “You got me to do.”
I jump away, laughing. “No! No, I don’t!”
Niko doesn’t fuck around, and he doesn’t hesitate. He hunches down and puts his shoulder into my stomach, flipping me over his shoulder.
Squealing like a girl, I don’t fight him. I let him carry me down the hall and to his room, let him flip me onto my back and tug his tee off my body. I let him push between my legs, and I let him fuck me until I can’t see straight. And every minute of it, I fall more in love with him.
Niko
“IT’S DONE!”
Shay tosses the door to my room open, making it hit the wall with a loud thunk, damn near making me fuck up an outline on a customer’s tattoo.
“Baby, the fuck?” I growl, looking at her, and then down at my client. He just chuckles.
But she’s smiling, happiness written all over her perfect face.
“I finished the mural!” She’s rocking on her heels, excited. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited for her, but not that goddamn excited.
She’s covered in paint, and has been for the past seven days. In fact, that’s all she’s been doing—working. I get her at night and that’s about it. All of her time has been wrapped up in that goddamn bar wall. If she thinks she’s happy it’s done, then she should ask me how I fucking feel about it.
But what I’m not happy about is her being done. That shit scares me a little, because when she’s done, she’s done. I told her she’d be working at Custom with me, doing art, but I know too goddamn well that Shay doesn’t do what I tell her. Just because she agreed then, doesn’t mean she’ll agree now.
“Yeah?”
Shay lets out a breath, still smiling. “Yeah, it’s done. Should have been done weeks ago.” She adds that last part, cutting a mischievous look at me.
“Don’t blame that shit on me.”
“I’m blamin’ you.”
I look down at my client. “You mind if we take fifteen?” We’ve been at it about two hours now, and I know he’s a smoker.
“Cool, man. I’ll grab a smoke and something from the vending machine.”
Pulling off my gloves, I get up and follow the guy out the door, Shay in front of me.
In the bar, she stands in front of the wall. “I can’t believe it’s done,” she sighs. “It might be the best thing I’ve ever done.”
Standing next to her, I watch her take in what she’s done. She’s proud of herself. Proud of the work she’s put in. Proud of the time she spent on it.
I’m proud of her.
The wall is a perfect representation of this city.
Each building is shadowed and faded behind the landscape of trees and ocean. The bay and harbor are done in blues and greens, everything else in shades of blacks and grays. It’s vivid, yet muted and faded. It looks like it’s been here all along, like it was meant to be on this wall.
“Damn, Shay.”
Her smile gets even wider. “Thank you.”
“Now that you’re done, what are you gonna do?” I can’t stop myself from asking. I need to fucking know.
I don’t want to her to be done, not with me or this fucking mural. And this is exactly what I was fucking worried about when she first showed up here with her devilish dark eyes and mischievous sexy smile, and damn, that fucking body. I knew it’d end in disaster. Knew she’d end up in my bed and head, and guess what? I wasn’t wrong.
Shay doesn’t answer me right away, she just stares at the wall, and I hate that I can’t read her or her mind.
“I don’t know,” she answers me, sadness in her voice.
Fuck.
I start to scramble for ideas, ways to make sure whatever the fuck we’ve got going on doesn’t stop. Is this a relationship? Fuck if I know. I’ve never had one, or one worth calling it that, but whatever it is between Shay and me, I don’t want to let it go
. I don’t want to watch her walk away.
She doesn’t say anything else, and for the first time since meeting her, I don’t know what the fuck to say.
“You should probably get back to your client.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
30
Shay
“You okay?” Lucy asks, handing me a glass of wine as she comes out onto my small back porch, sitting next to me. I watch her look me over, trying to figure out why I can’t keep a smile on my face.
Shrugging, I gulp down a mouthful of red before answering her. “I’m fine.”
“You’re a shit liar. Seriously, what’s wrong?”
“I’m done with the mural,” I whine, feeling completely sorry for myself, and stupid for it.
She looks confused. “So?”
“I’m done at Custom and the bar.” I feel an overwhelming sense of loss, even though I haven’t lost anything other than the daily task of painting that damn wall.
I just can’t shake this feeling, the feeling of something significant changing.
It takes her a moment for my words to penetrate, and when they do, she gives me a sympathetic look. “But it doesn’t mean you and Niko are over.”
“I know, but it feels weird. I haven’t seen him or talked to him in a few days, not since I left that night.”
“He’s busy, getting that bar open with his brother.”
“I don’t know.” I haven’t called him either, though. I’ve been holed up in my apartment, hiding. We’ve texted, but I miss the everyday, the all day with him.
“I’m sure you’ll see him tonight at the bar opening, and I’m sure you’ll see all that crazy is just in your head.”
“And if it’s not?”
This is the longest I’ve been serious with someone, the deepest feelings I’ve ever had. The most I’ve expected. The hardest it’ll be to let go.
Lucy hums thoughtfully, tapping her nail on her glass. “I think you’re overthinking everything. Didn’t he tell you he was done sharing you, that he wanted more?”
“Yes, but...”
“Then stop worrying.”
Easier said than done.
THE BAR IS PACKED AND I’m proud. People are everywhere, enjoying themselves. Having drinks and eating the catered food.
There are people standing in front of my mural with Alek, who’s talking animatedly, waving a hand at the wall.
Hanging back, I drink my third glass of wine so far tonight. I had one at home with Lucy before getting ready, and one as soon as I got here. I figured the third would help my nerves. It hasn’t.
“Yo, Shay!” Alek shouts, waving me over to where he stands next to the mural. I don’t want to go over there, but I do. I owe it to Alek. He gave me the job and the chance.
Polishing off my wine, I set my glass on the bar and walk toward him.
“Hey,” I say softly, smiling when he pulls me into his side, giving me a quick, brotherly hug.
There are a few people standing near him, staring up at my work. They’re judging it, picking it apart. It makes me nervous.
“This is Shay, the artist,” Alek introduces me proudly.
Some guy in a suit sticks his hand out. “Hello, Shay. My name’s Michael, and I’m a local art dealer. I’d love to get a moment of your time, talk about your art.” He looks up at the mural. “You’re very talented, and I’d love to buy some of your work.”
I can feel my cheeks heating, hating being the center of attention, but appreciating his offer.
A woman next to him nods appreciatively. “I’d have to agree. You’re fantastic.”
“Thanks.”
Standing there, with people gushing about my painting, I can’t focus, my eyes searching the bar for Niko. I refuse to ask Alek where he is. I refuse to walk around and look for him, and I refuse to admit that I’m scared once tonight is over, things will go back to the way they were before Niko came into my life.
The people talk about my talent and how each color fades seamlessly into the other. They talk about what they’d like to see from me, and how they can’t wait to watch me work.
I hear them, but I don’t take any of it in. I can’t.
Because Niko’s walks in, a woman walking extremely close next to him.
His ex-wife.
My heart sinks, my hopes die, and my body goes numb.
I can’t move fast enough.
I need to get the fuck out of here.
Niko
SHAY SEES ME AS SOON as I walk in, Mikayla right behind me. I see it instantly, her shutting down completely.
I’m fucked—so, so far beyond fucked.
I start making my way toward her, but she moves away.
Instinct takes over. I can’t let her go, not like this.
“Hey,” I growl, grabbing for Shay, but she pushes past me and keeps walking, making it through the door toward Custom, a door we’ve walked through at least a hundred times together.
She won’t look at me, and she won’t stop.
Shoving past people in the back hall, I continue after her.
“Stop,” I growl, losing the patience I didn’t even know I fucking had.
Closing the distance between us, I grab her elbow, pulling her to a stop. “Don’t make me chase you.”
“I’m not making you do shit,” she spits, shaking my hand loose.
“What the fuck’s happening, Shay?” I ask her, grabbing for again, but she won’t let me touch her, and I don’t fucking like it.
“Are you talking about Mikayla, or you and me?”
She still won’t look at me, staring over my shoulder at the wall. Her eyes are glassy, hurt shining clearly in them.
I didn’t invite the bitch, I wouldn’t have, but she showed up. Of course, Shay saw us and assumed the worst.
This is the reason I don’t date, I don’t do relationships. But here I am, fucking doing one, explaining myself to Shay because I’m scared fucking shitless of losing her, or losing her more than I already have in the last few days.
“I don’t know, Niko.”
Grabbing her chin, I tip her head back so she’ll look at me, and look me in the fucking eyes. “You do fucking know, Shay. What’s going on?”
“Why is she here?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you go ask her?”
“I shouldn’t have to.”
She’s not wrong, but I don’t know her reasons for being here anymore than Shay does. “Baby,” I groan, tired. “I don’t know why the fuck she’s here either. I didn’t invite her, and I sure the fuck don’t want her here.”
“But here she is.” She throws her hands out, her face showing me exactly how she feels—hurt and angry.
“She wouldn’t be if you would’ve given me a goddamn minute. I was telling her to leave before you jumped to all kinds of conclusions and ran off, forcing me to chase you.”
Shay’s eyes narrow and she frowns. “I didn’t force you to do a damn thing.”
“Didn’t you? You know goddamn well I wasn’t gonna let you see that and run off, not knowing shit. I care too goddamn much about you to let you think something that wasn’t true.”
Her face softens just a little, but not much. “Do you even want me here, want me around?”
That question makes me fucking mad. She knows the the answer to that. She knows how much I fucking want her—want her here and in my life.
“Are you seriously asking me that fucking question?” Putting my hands on her hips, I pull her into me.
I need to touch her.
I fucking want her. She’s all I fucking want.
But I don’t get the chance to tell her that, because Mikayla comes walking through the door. She stops when she sees us, rolling her fucking eyes like the sight of us annoys her, and that shit pisses me off. Shay just looks at me, disappointment all over her face, before stepping away from me.
“Niko, can I talk to you?” Mikayla asks, crossing her arms and tapping her foot.
Before I can say any
thing, do anything, Shay is through the back door.
God-fucking-dammit.
“No, Mikayla, you can’t fucking talk to me. Why the fuck are you even here? Even around? You find out I’m happy, doing good, and suddenly you’re back? Get the fuck outta here,” I grind out, trying real fucking hard not to shove her ass out the door and slam it in her face.
Her eyes are wide and wet, her lip shaking. “Niko.” She went from annoyed to heartbroken real quick.
“Don’t pull that shit. You’re a liar and a cheater. I cannot wrap my mind around why the fuck you’d think I’d want anything to do with you, especially when I have that,” I growl, pointing at the door Shay just left through.
“Jesus, Niko,” she snivels, wiping at her eyes. “I fucked up, I know this. But don’t you think we deserve a do-over? I can be good for you, make you happy. We had a rough go, but don’t you see? When things were good, they were great. I can give that to you. I’m different now. I didn’t know what I had until I lost you, and I’m here for you, to make things right again. We had some good times.” For about four fucking seconds, until she couldn’t keep her legs closed and her snatch off every dick she came across.
“Don’t do that shit, don’t act heartbroken. We’re done, Mikayla, have been for a long fucking time. For the last time, stay away from me, and stay the fuck away from Shay.”
She changes, her body going rigid. “What? You’ve got to be joking. She’s just a flavor of the week, just like all the others you’ve been dicking around with since we split.”
“I’m not even close to joking. I’m more serious about her than I ever was with you, or anyone else in my life. I trust Shay. I believe every goddamn thing that comes out of her mouth. I want her in my life and in my bed. I need her.” My words strike me as serious. I mean every goddamn thing I’m saying. I mean it, and I should have told Shay all of that.
Mikayla sniffs, her chin in the air. “Don’t kid yourself, she’s just a phase. And anyway, she left you here. She’s not serious about you, Niko.”
“You and me, we had nothing. Let’s be real here. The only reason we were even together was because I thought you were having my kid. I made a mistake, thinking I was doing the right thing by you and our baby by marrying you, and you can’t deny that shit. We barely knew each other, dammit. But I was good to you until I found out the truth. I won’t blame myself for your fucking stupid decisions. To be honest, I’m past all that shit. I don’t even have the energy to be pissed at you anymore. I just want you gone and out of my life.”