Holiday Loves
Page 29
Her hand finds my cock. “I’ve missed you.”
“Me or my dick?”
“Both.” Her eyes roll up when my fingers find her clit. “Definitely both.”
My hands slide to her ass, and I pick her up. Her legs hook around my waist, and her hot little pussy grinds over my cock. I let out a groan as I carry her to my desk, setting her on the edge.
I drop to my knees in front of her and shift her panties to the side. Her pussy is light pink and glistens in the office light.
Fuck, I need her.
I will own her body and possess her heart. Rose will never leave me again.
“I have something to say, before I take what’s mine.”
“What’s that?”
“Marry me.” It’s not a question.
Her eyes widen, and her irises dance around the room, before coming back and locking onto mine. She nods. “Yes.”
I bury my tongue in her sweet cunt. I’ve missed my pussy. I will lick, suck, fuck, and take all that she has to give.
Rose is everything in my world.
Rose’s cheeks flush with pink, and it spreads down her chest.
Damn, I’ve missed her.
“Eyes on me.”
Those gorgeous eyes of hers meet mine.
“This. Pussy. Belongs. To. Me.” I grunt out each word.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Tempt Me
Crystal Kaswell
* * *
The bell rings as Emma pushes the door open. Cold air greets us. The tattoo parlor's A.C. is a welcome reprieve from an especially hot afternoon in Venice Beach.
But it does nothing to cool me down.
Not when Brendon is standing behind the counter, all tall, handsome, and off-limits.
He runs a hand through his short, dark hair.
He shoots Emma that typical, paternal what have you gotten yourself into now look.
His dark eyes soften as his gaze meets mine. His lips curl into a smile.
A smile that makes the shop's air conditioning irrelevant.
All it takes is a smile from Brendon and I'm on fire. I've been crushing on the guy for years. He's Emma's older brother, and Emma's been my best friend since forever.
I should be used to Brendon's gorgeous face and his perfect body and all the lines of ink running over his muscular arms.
His chest piece peeks out from his scoop-neck t-shirt. My fingers itch to trace the lines of that ink. My fingers itch for his skin. Every inch of it. Every sweaty, warm inch of it.
Emma grabs my arm and pulls me towards the counter. She nods to Brendon's paternal expression, then to me. It's her usual look. Isn't he annoying?
She's completely oblivious to my crush.
It needs to stay that way.
Emma is my best friend and the only person, besides Brendon, I trust in California.
She waits until Brendon is done with his customer, then she moves up to the counter. "Hey. I'm thinking about some ink. Right here." She pushes her t-shirt up her sleeve to show off her bicep. "A heart that says 'bad boys.'"
He turns to me. "Do me a favor, Kaylee?"
His deep, steady voice sends a shiver down my spine. That's no good. We're supposed to be friends, good friends. And good friends don't picture each other naked this often.
I barely manage to get out my response. "Sure."
"Keep an eye on Em for me." He turns to his sister. "Your textbooks are in the back."
She offers him a sweet smile.
"You're right. You can't be trusted to get them," he teases.
"You should be less suspicious," she says.
"More gullible, you mean?" He shoots me a wink. "You mind keeping an eye on the desk, Kaylee?"
Emma pouts. It's mostly for show. She and Brendon are always perfecting their you're a brat/you're bossy and annoying banter.
She motions for the bathroom. "I won't tell if you snag a hottie's phone number from the appointment book." She winks and heads off.
I sit on the stool behind the counter and play with the binding of the appointment book. The shop is quiet except for the hum of a tattoo gun and the quiet grunts of a client getting a back piece.
Despite my complete lack of ink, I'm used to the hum of the tattoo gun. I stop by the shop, with and without Em, a few times a week. I like being here.
Mostly, I do homework or read at the front desk and help out between appointments.
The black sketchbook on the counter draws my eyes. It's Brendon's sketchbook. I've seen him with it a thousand times.
What does he draw when he isn't mocking up a tattoo?
I should respect his privacy. I shouldn't snoop. But my fingers are begging me to pry that book open.
I want to look inside his head.
He's always quiet. Stoic. Strong.
Just a peek…
Just for a minute.
I take the book into my lap and pry it open. The first few pages are familiar tattoo mockups—Brendon always shows off his finished work. Or maybe I check the shop's Facebook religiously. Either way.
Then there are figure drawings. More tattoo mockups. A fierce dragon defending a castle. A giant octopus destroying a sea monster. A topless mermaid sunning on a rock.
A librarian pinup.
Only…
No.
She looks like me. Same champagne blonde hair. Same green eyes. Same pretty pink cardigan. Same thick blue glasses. These aren't exactly standard frames.
And she's wearing a Mockingjay pin.
Exactly like the one attached to my backpack.
That's nothing. Lots of people like The Hunger Games. Even Brendon.
There's no way he's looking at me like this.
My heartbeat picks up.
My breath flees my body at an alarming rate.
I shouldn't turn the page, but I can't stop myself.
It's that same pinup, only her cardigan is unbuttoned. Her breasts are exposed.
In the next picture, she's lying on her back, her arms over her head, her cardigan binding her wrists.
This is private.
It's not for my eyes.
But my hands refuse to cooperate. They turn the page.
There's no denying it.
That's the four-poster bed in Brendon's room.
And the woman bound to it, wearing nothing but a thong—
That's me.
Footsteps move closer.
I snap the book shut and jump off the stool.
Emma laughs. "Oooh, the angel is spying?" She slides her arm around my shoulder. "You find anything good?"
"Just tattoo mockups. Doodles." I press my lips together. I must be imagining things. Brendon is a smoking hot tattoo artist who mows through women like it's going out of style.
Is he really having fantasies about me?
That shouldn't be possible.
It defies logic.
"Figures. I'm not sure there's much in his head besides tattoos and hot babes." She pulls out her phone and glances at the screen. "You bringing Daniel on this double date?"
"I don't know." All of a sudden, our classmate, Daniel, doesn't hold any appeal. He's a nice enough guy, but he's not Brendon.
A thud echoes through the room as Brendon drops Emma's textbooks on the counter. He shoots her a knowing look. "Who's Daniel?"
She winks at me. "Only Kay's latest conquest. You should hear the way she talks about all the perverse things she's going to do to him."
"Should I?" Brendon raises a brow.
She nods, attempting to keep a straight face. It only lasts a minute then she's laughing so hard she has to hold her stomach. "Sorry, Kay. I love you, but the thought of you dirty-talking a guy. And the guy being Daniel…"
I don't mind the teasing. It's our thing. Emma teases me about being uptight. I tease her about having… relaxed standards and frequent overnight guests. Neither one of us really cares about the other's sexual habits beyond no way is my best friend ending
up with a loser.
"He's nice," I say.
"Does he have any other attributes?" Brendon's expression gets incredulous.
"He's funny. Smart. Great on trombone." I'm not sure why I'm trying to prove this point. I'm not attached to Daniel. We haven't even been on a date.
I know I'm not the hottie who gets the bad boy.
But I do have standards.
I'm not going to have Brendon thinking otherwise.
Even if he's thinking…
My head spins. Does Brendon really want me?
"He's a band geek," Emma says.
"Don't be a snob." Brendon turns to me. "Do you like this guy?"
"It's only a double date." I swallow hard. I like him fine. Not the way I like Brendon. But maybe that's for the best. Right now, with Brendon staring at me like he’s staring into my soul, I feel like my heart is about to burst out of my chest.
My tongue is tripping over itself.
My entire body is buzzing with desire.
I can barely think, much less speak. I can't live like this 24/7.
He looks to Emma. "Is he good enough for her?"
"Of course not." Emma's voice is half teasing, half sincere. We're both always vetoing potential boyfriends as not good enough.
"You like him, Kaylee?" he asks.
"He's fine," I say.
Brendon cocks a brow. "Don't waste your time with a guy who's fine."
It's none of his business. Even if it's good advice.
"How about this? We go. If we aren't having fun, give me the signal and we'll ditch the guys," Emma says.
"Okay," I say.
Brendon turns to me. "You'll make sure she gets home okay?"
"I'm nineteen! I'm an adult!" Emma folds her arms. She always protests when Brendon gets protective. Which means she protests a lot. Their parents died a few years ago. He stepped in to pick up all the slack. Which means he's the one issuing orders and making rules.
But those pictures…
Does he issue orders when he's getting naked with someone?
Will he issue me orders?
After a set of goodbyes, Emma grabs her textbooks and my hands and leads me back to my car. Then we're driving back to her place.
It's practically my place. I spend most of my time here, especially since my roommate got a particularly loud boyfriend.
My parents just sold the house and moved back to New Jersey to be closer to Grandma. They're three thousand miles away.
Emma and Brendon are the only people here I can count on.
I need to get over the brooding tattoo artist if I want to survive staying in Southern California for college.
I need him as a friend.
That's not worth risking.
Not for anything.
* * *
After Emma puts her textbooks away, we crash on her bed and watch The Little Mermaid for the millionth time.
Of course, away is a relative term. Calling Emma's room a mess is being charitable. She's a slob. I love her to pieces, but there's no denying her lack of appreciation for cleanliness.
Even after all these years, I'm not used to it. I throw dirty clothes into her hamper and wipe up crumbs.
"Leave it," she says. "I like it like this."
"How?"
"It inspires my creativity."
"That's bullshit."
"It's my room." She motions to the door down the hall. "The guest room is yours whenever you want it. As long as you want. The place is half mine."
"I can't stay here just because my roommate is annoying. I don't want to impose."
"On who?"
"Whom."
She laughs. "You're my favorite grammar geek." She pats the bed. "Stop cleaning and watch Ariel try to impress Prince Eric."
"I'll feel better when it's clean."
She shoots me a serene smile as she kicks another dirty t-shirt onto the floor. "I can make a mess faster than you can clean." She pats her bed again. "Sit. Relax."
"Relax?"
"You are capable."
"School starts in two weeks."
"And you're going to kick ass again." She shifts off the bed, wraps her arms around me, and attempts to wrestle me onto the comforter.
"I want to clean."
"Let's compromise. We'll both clean for five minutes, then you'll sit."
"No deal," I say.
"Fine." She goes to the closet and starts flipping through her cocktail dresses. "You want to borrow something?"
"Aren't we going to Panera?"
"Well…" She makes that I have a change of plans hrmmm noise. "Stan invited us to his place. For a sort of party."
"Sort of party?"
She nods. "Okay. You're nineteen too. I don't have to spell it out."
"Em-"
"It's only if you want." She bites her lip. "Just, you know last time… I know you don't want to go back to college a virgin."
My cheeks turn red. God, this is embarrassing.
But she's right. I'm tired of being the weird girl who hasn't had sex.
But sleeping with this guy I only sort of like…
That doesn't feel right.
"Only if it's what you want." She nods to the dress. "I'd love to head to Panera looking classy as fuck."
The mental image of us in cocktail dresses and heels at the fast casual sandwich shop makes me laugh. "Then we can class up The Coffee Bean."
"Fuck yes." She pulls a short purple dress from the closet and tosses it on her bed. "I'm not saying you should sleep with Daniel tonight. But if you want to lose it, he's not a bad choice. He's a nice guy. He'll be courteous, but it won't be fantastic. Which means you won't get attached."
I bite my lip. I don't know if I want that. And I don't know that I want to hang out with Daniel while Emma goes off to screw Stan. It's awkward trying to make conversation while your friend is screaming I'm coming. "Do you have condoms?"
"Yeah. Put some in your purse. Just in case."
"Yeah. That's a good idea. Smart. I mean… I don't want to be a virgin anymore. So, I should get the condoms."
Em cocks her head. "Relax, sweetie. It's not a race."
"I'm, um… well, you're right. I don't want to be a virgin anymore."
"No fucking way." Brendon's voice flows in through the open bedroom door. He shoots Emma a protective glare.
Then he's looking at me with a caring expression.
God, he looks good standing in the door frame wearing only his jeans.
He's on his way to the shower.
I guess he just got home. I didn't hear him come in.
I try to meet his gaze, but my eyes refuse to cooperate. That chest piece, the sleeve tattoo, the ink on his shoulders. His body is sculpted perfection and it's covered in ink.
He's so yummy it's ridiculous.
He's so yummy I'm panting.
I don't want to sleep with Daniel.
I want to sleep with Brendon.
Does he want me bound?
Submitting?
I want to know.
I want to be tied to that bed, waiting for his instruction.
Thankfully, Emma jumps in to defend me. "Mind your own business." She shoots her brother a death glare. "You can't talk about sleeping around."
"Don't you want the best for our angel?" He teases me by calling me by my old nickname.
I'm the angel and Emma is the devil. Together, we're the perfect balance of sugar and spice. I keep her from getting into too much trouble. She makes sure I have fun. It works well, even if it means I'm stuck being the responsible one.
"Put on clothes." Her eyes narrow in a get off my back glare.
He motions come here. "Let's talk, Kaylee."
"So you can lecture her about safe sex? You think I'm going to let her go bareback with some guy she barely knows?" Emma folds her arms.
Brendon's eyes meet mine. Understanding passes between us. I'm not sure what he's after, but I know I want to find out.
"Give me a minute," I
say.
"If you're sure." Emma shoots her brother another stern look.
I take a deep breath and follow him into the hallway. All the way to the end of the hallway, out of earshot of Emma.
He leans against the wall. The orange light of sunset casts him in an angelic glow. But Brendon is much closer to a devil than an angel.
I want him being the yang to my yin.
I want him corrupting me.
I want him. Period.
His dark eyes fix on me. "Do you really want to sleep with some random asshole to lose your virginity?"
"He's not an asshole."
"Do you want to fuck him?"
"I don't know. I haven't decided."
He leans closer. His fingers brush my neck, then it's his palm, then he's rubbing my shoulder.
"It's really none of your business."
"And my sketchbook?"
"You… how did you know?" My face flames. My chest follows. Heat travels through my torso, collecting between my legs.
He's right. I was snooping.
I invaded his privacy.
Does he know how much I saw?
"The look on your face." He brushes hair from my eyes.
"Are you mad?"
"No."
But he still stares at me with that stern expression.
I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry. I just… I won't look again."
"You should."
I'm hot everywhere. "You want me looking at those drawings?"
"You know what I want."
He can't mean…
I swallow hard. I want that too. How can I want it as badly as I do?
He gives me a long once-over. "Do you really want to sleep with this guy?"
"I don't want to wait forever."
"You really want to fuck someone?"
His voice is classic Brendon. It's even, calm, like everything is going to be okay if only I listen to him.
"Kaylee." He runs his fingers over my upper arm. "Look me in the eyes."
I do.
"There's no shame in fucking your way out of your pain if that's what you want."
"I know. But I'm not—"
"You miss your parents."
"Yes."
"You're lonely. It's natural to want to find a fix."
"I don't know what you're talking about."