by Max Monroe
“The tattoo?” I asked, and she nodded, settling her chin on my chest and bringing her gaze back to my eyes.
“Mi Vida Loca,” I recited. “It means ‘my crazy life.’ I got it when I was twenty-seven. When it first hit me that I’d done it. That I’d succeeded in all kinds of things, and I was in complete control of my destiny. I never expected any of this. The success, the drive. I’m pretty sure everyone thought I’d be doing something menial or nothing at all.”
“You were that wild?”
“Yes. But it was more a lack of focus.”
She laughed and looked down at my chest contemplatively, tracing each letter slowly. “Yeah, I can relate to that.”
She skimmed her fingers across my chest and over to the praying Mary on my arm. “What about this one?”
“That one is for Margo. Well, it’s about her, anyway. I got it a couple of years after she passed, from Frankie, right after he opened the shop. I think it was sort of cathartic for both of us to put ink to skin to embody all the things we hoped she’d found in heaven that she’d yet to find on earth.”
“Like what?” she whispered.
I ran a thumb under her eye and twisted her hair between two fingers. “Peace. Contentment. She was still so young and restless. Searching for everything and coming up with nothing.”
Her nod was unhurried, and her eyes studied mine. I was sure she was looking for some kind of sign that I was over it all, but to me, I never even had to think about it anymore.
I’d never be over the way it happened, but all I felt was Cassie. She didn’t leave any room for anything else.
She tapped the word “Trust” on my chest. “Why trust?”
“Because it’s the only thing I really need.”
“The only thing you need to what?”
“To live,” I answered simply. “I don’t need to know what’s going to happen, or how it’s going to happen, or even the why. I just want to know that whoever’s making it happen cares about me enough to give me that freedom.”
“Mmm,” she acknowledged.
She settled like she might fall asleep, so I tapped her on the nose, my heart in my throat. I wanted her to know something that I hadn’t bothered to tell anyone yet. “You missed one.”
She lifted her chin off of my chest, and her eyes opened again as she’d thought it over. She was convinced she’d studied my body enough to know. It hit her like a truck. “Of course!” She rolled off of me enough to free my arm and turned it over to expose the inside. “Evolve” scrolled across in fancy, rolling script.
“Okay,” she said as she traced it. “So what’s this one?”
I took a deep breath and blew it out. “That’s the first tattoo I ever did.”
Her startled gaze jerked to mine. “You did this one?”
I nodded. “Last fall.”
“What? How? I don’t get it,” she rambled.
I shrugged and looked to the comforter. “I’ve been apprenticing with Frankie. They make you do your first real run on yourself. You know, so you don’t permanently fuck somebody else’s skin up.”
“It doesn’t look like a first tattoo,” she said, excited. “It’s amazing.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh my God, yes. It’s really good!”
My smile would have blinded an airplane. “I was really fucking nervous about that thing for a while. I actually had to go to rugby practice the day after I did it. And of course, I ended up on the skins team. I had this gut reaction that everyone would give me a hard time for how much it sucked.”
She shook her head quickly and then leaned forward to touch her lips to mine. “Do you have any more stuff?”
“No more tattoos on myself, but I’ve got some drawings.”
The sheet left me in one smooth motion as she jumped up and wrapped it around herself, demanding, “Show me now.”
Up and out of the bed and boxer briefs on, I led her out of the room and to the second bedroom. When I opened the door, she stomped her foot.
“I can’t believe I hadn’t snooped in here yet! What is wrong with me?”
Chuckles shook my chest as I watched her spin in a circle, taking in the room. The walls were filled with drawings I’d done, and my notebook sat right in the middle of my sketch desk. She made a beeline for it and started flipping through the pages.
I had all sorts of different things in there. Original designs, sayings that stood out to me sketched in varying script, and even faces and places that I’d remembered vividly enough to draw.
“Holy shit, Thatcher.”
I walked up behind her and put my lips to her shoulder. “Have you ever thought about getting a tattoo?”
She shook her head slowly as she flipped through the pages one a time. “No. I’ve never felt like there was anything I felt strongly enough about to commit to my skin for life.”
I nodded there, right in the crook of her neck, until the tickle of my facial hair made her shiver.
She paused on one page, and I read it over her shoulder. One of my absolute favorite sketches filled my chest with new meaning.
She was crazy. Wild.
Chaos & beauty.
My heart.
Mine.
Vulnerable and soft, she whispered right out into the emptiness of the room. “I want to be yours.”
My eyes closed and love overwhelmed me. “You fucking are.”
Forever.
The huge motor whined as we sped up through a hole in traffic. People barely moved out of the way, but despite our slow progress toward someone’s life-or-death situation, I couldn’t find it in myself to get angry. It was three o’clock in the afternoon, I was sitting shotgun in a fire truck, and I was in all my motherfucking glory.
“Thatch!” I shouted into my phone over the blaring sirens in the background.
“Cass? Where are you?”
“I’m in a fire truck cruising down 5th Avenue!”
“What?” he yelled. “I’m having trouble hearing you. It sounded like you said you’re in a fire truck.”
“You heard me right!” The sirens increased in three loud bursts as the fire engine maneuvered through an intersection. “I’m saving lives and putting out fires for the day!”
I couldn’t hear his response because the truckload of firemen started to argue around me.
“Goddammit! Move out of the way!”
“Take a left, Ronnie! It’s faster!”
“Fuck off, Vin!”
A minute later, the sirens died down and we pulled up in front of an apartment building. The guys jumped out and headed inside while I stayed back in the truck. I was finding that not all emergencies were actual emergencies. Sometimes what one person might call a kitchen fire another would call, Bullshit, just turn off your stove, moron.
“Are you still there, T?” I asked into the receiver.
“Yeah, honey,” he responded. “I thought you had a shoot today.”
“I shot a charity calendar for FDNY, and we finished a little earlier than expected,” I explained. “I convinced the guys to let me go on a few runs with them. Do you have any idea how cool it is riding around in the fire truck all day?” I hopped out of the truck and started to pace on the sidewalk. The adrenaline rushes from the last five runs had my body bursting with excited, nervous energy. “I think I want to change my career.”
He chuckled. “Sounds like you’re enjoying yourself.”
“I am,” I agreed and watched pedestrians mill about the building, looking for a show. I wanted to tell them to mind their own fucking business, but the last time I had done that, the lieutenant told me to zip it or else I’d get the boot.
Obviously, since boots so weren’t a summer shoe, I kept my loud mouth shut.
“Are you busy tonight?” I asked Thatch, staring into the building and hoping I’d see a lick of flames burst through the window. It would probably ruin people’s lives, but it would really make mine.
Yeah, I’m an asshole today.
“Just rugby practice and then I’m free.”
I grinned. “Wanna meet me for a drink after?”
“Sure. Name the time and place, and I’ll be there.”
“Perfect. I’ll ask the guys where we’re going, and I’ll text you.”
“And by guys, you mean the firemen, right?”
“Yep.” I waited for a jealous or unsure reaction most men would’ve have given in that kind of scenario, but it didn’t come.
Thatch merely took it all in stride. Not the least bit concerned that I was paling around with a bunch of muscly firemen. “Sounds good, honey,” he answered. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Okay. See ya then.”
“Cass?” he asked before we ended the call.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Be careful, okay?” His voice was soft around the edges.
Goddammit, this thoughtful dickhead.
If he were standing in front of me, I might have kneed him in the balls.
But instead, I answered, “Don’t worry, the only time they let me out of the truck is if I’m sneaking out of it when they’re running into a building. Otherwise, the protective bastards are all about proper protocols and fire safety. They’re kind of a pain in my ass, to be honest.”
“Good.” He chuckled. “I like these guys already.”
A few beers deep, I strongly encouraged Ronnie to sing karaoke with me on stage.
“No way, Cass,” he said through a laugh. “I don’t care how gorgeous you are, I’m not getting up there.”
I fluttered my eyelashes like a lady and then spewed words that conveyed the exact opposite. “Oh, c’mon! Don’t be such a ball sac!”
“I think you mean don’t be such a pussy in this scenario,” Ronnie retorted.
“Hell no,” I scoffed. “Pussies trump balls every time. Those bitches can take a serious pounding. Balls are the sensitive little fuckers. Shit, they’d probably cry during Titanic.”
Vin chuckled. “Yeah, Ronnie. Stop being such a ball sac.”
Ronnie flipped him off in response, but he stayed resolute in his decision.
“How about a game of quarters instead?” Brian offered, and when it came to drinking games, that was one I simply could not and would not refuse.
For the next hour, I spanked the boys at quarters while the waitress kept up a steady stream of fresh beers and rounds of shots. It was a little after nine when Thatch strode through the bar doors, freshly showered and looking sexy as hell. God help me, he made jeans and a T-shirt look better than anyone I knew.
His eyes met mine, and a slow smirk crested the corners of his lips as he headed in my direction.
“Hey, Crazy,” he greeted as he leaned down to kiss my cheek.
“Hi.” I grinned up at him before turning back toward the table. “Guys, this is my fiancé, Thatch,” I introduced him to the six guys seated around the table. “Baby, this is Vin, Ronnie, Brian, Bruce, Eddie, and Matt.”
Thatch shook each guy’s hand and sat down beside me. When I hopped out of my chair and made myself comfortable in his lap, his eyebrows shot up with amusement.
“I missed you today,” I whispered into his ear. “I’m glad you came out.”
He kissed the corner of my mouth. “I’m glad you had a good time today.”
“I think tonight is going to be even better.” I waggled my brows.
Thatch smirked. “Is that right?”
I nodded slowly. “Oh, yeah. That’s right.”
His gaze made a slow circuit down my body, taking inventory of all of his favorite places, but his eyes really lit when they landed on the flush of my cheeks. It must have been obvious that I was just buzzed enough to break out all of my dirtiest moves. His eyes dove back to my chest as soon as the thought scrolled across my open eyes. I knew I was showing every single freaky intention.
“Anyone need a beer?” Ronnie asked, pulling Thatch’s attention from my tits to across the table.
“You buyin’ the next round, Ronnie?” Vin questioned.
“No, he’s not,” Thatch interjected. Memo received. He lifted me out of his lap and placed my ass back in my seat, but not before giving the cheek of it a healthy, meaningful squeeze. His hands would be spending time there later. “I’ve got the drinks for the night, guys.” He stood and motioned for the waitress, handing off his credit card with instructions to put all of the drinks for the table on his tab.
“Hell yeah! Thanks, man!” Brian held up his bottle as Thatch sat back down beside me.
“You know,” Vin chimed in, “he kind of owes us for driving his girl around all day.”
Thatch chuckled, but he knew better than to say anything. He had visions of my pussy in his eyes, and there wasn’t any form of male camaraderie that’d make sacrificing worth it. My face scrunched up in annoyance, and my even looser than normal lips flew.
“Hey now, dickhead! Pretty sure I’m the one in control of your calendar photos, and I haven’t edited them yet. Things can end up looking a lot smaller. Microscopic, even.”
Ronnie laughed. “Yeah, but Vin has a point, Cass.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re a handful,” Bruce added. “I guarantee the city will be sending us a complaint from the old woman you told to move the fuck along and mind her own business.”
“She was just standing there, in the middle of the sidewalk,” I argued. “She was in your way.”
“She wasn’t standing there, sweetheart,” Ronnie corrected. “She was just moving very slowly.”
Vin laughed. “Yeah, she had a walker. Give the woman a break.”
“Whatever.” I scoffed. “That’s the last time I try to help you guys out.”
They all agreed enthusiastically to my permanent hiatus, and Thatch laughed.
“That will definitely be the last time you’ll ever be allowed on a fire truck,” Brian agreed with a smirk.
“I don’t know why you’re acting all high and mighty,” I retorted. “You’re the one who asked me to slide down your pole about fifteen minutes after I met you.”
Brian choked on his beer, and both of his hands went up in the air like he was being held at gunpoint. “In my defense,” he responded, meeting Thatch’s curious yet markedly less easygoing stare. “That was before I knew she was engaged and that said fiancé had arms bigger than my head.”
The guys chuckled around us.
“And she kneed me in the dick the second the words came out of my mouth,” Brian added. “I’m honestly not sure if I should be more scared of you or of her.”
“Probably her.” Thatch smirked and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, tucking me into his side.
For the next two hours, we hung out with the FDNY crew, laughing, drinking, and just shooting the shit. By the end of the night, the guys were asking Thatch to join their basketball league and meet them every Friday night for darts at Maloney’s.
Fucking charmer. It didn’t matter if was men or women, I swear, he held some kind of conversational gene that automatically made people want to either fuck him, be friends with him, or both.
After I finished off my fifth beer of the night, I hopped back into Thatch’s lap with my cell phone in my hand. “Guess what?”
“What?”
“Big Dick is hip to our game.”
I held my phone up so Thatch could see my most recent text conversation with Kline.
Me: Earn fifty free fuel points at Shell by texting “I HAVE GAS!” to this number.
Kline: UNSUBSCRIBE
Me: Error. Could not process your message. Please text ‘1234567891011121314151617’ so that our IT department can assist you with your request.
Kline: Oh, hey, Cassie.
Kline: And Thatch.
Kline: Game over, assholes.
Me: But what if the next subscription is for porn, Big Dick?
Kline: STOP TEXTING ME, CASSIE. And tell Thatch to stop searching for disfigured dicks on the internet.
Thatch laughe
d, and I nuzzled my face into his neck, letting the rumble run all the way through me.
“Tired?” he asked. He ran his fingers up and down my back in soft, smooth movements.
“No.” I shook my head. “Just horny.”
He chuckled. “What am I going to do with you, Crazy?”
I leaned back and met his amused gaze. “Take me home and fuck me?”
Thatch tapped the table with his hand and stood while still holding me in his arms. “We’re calling it a night.” His strong arms maneuvered my body around so that he was giving me a piggyback ride.
The guys groaned their disapproval.
“Oh, get over yourselves,” I teased. “He’s taking me home so I can ride his pole.”
Thatch laughed and walked around the table to shake each of their hands. “I’ll keep my tab open for you guys. Feel free to close the place down.”
They hooted and hollered and made all the sounds of a good time, but I’d never wanted to hang around less.
We said our good-byes, and Thatch carried me out of the bar with his hands gripping my thighs and long legs eating up the pavement in relaxed strides.
“Next stop, Thatch’s Supercock!” I shouted into the night air.
“And no sleeping until we both come, honey.”
Thoughts of the night before consumed my sleep. I dreamed about Cassie riding my cock and the feel of her tongue in my mouth and the tug of her teeth on my nipple ring. I’d never considered piercing my cock, but the things she did with the one in my nipple made me come scarily close to actually considering it.
My lips tipped up at the phantom feel of her mouth on me. God, I loved dreams like this.
I could lay here and sleep forever if Dream Cassie kept this up.
Her tongue circled the tip as she took me all the way inside her mouth and I groaned.
That’s it, baby.