“Will do.” I hang up the phone. When I turn around, my bitch-o-meter dials up a notch thanks to Slutty McShanks-alot squeezing on Shawn’s arm. He’s finished the tattoo and they are standing. I guess she likes the job he did.
Shawn pulls his arm slyly away from her grip. I’ll give him this he does look uncomfortable.
As if feeling eyes on him, he looks in my direction. His eyes grow bigger as if he thinks he’s been caught. He’s not technically mine, so he doesn’t really have a reason to think that. I’m probably just reading too much into that look. I turn away.
Less than a minute later I feel a presence behind me and then I see Shawn’s client standing on the other side of the counter in front of me. She isn’t looking at me. She’s blatantly staring and shooting him a flirtatious smile. Didn’t she have enough time to get all of that out when she was lying on his table? Tramp.
“Tara will take care of you.” Shawn brushes his hand over my hip, squeezes, and then walks away. She watches him the whole freakin’ time. I quickly scan the appointment log to find out how much she owes.
“That’ll be seven hundred and fifty bucks.” She finally looks my way. After pulling out her credit card, I scan it through the card reader. This is a new addition to the business. The studio is no longer cash only.
“So do you know if he’s seeing anyone?” She nods in Shawn’s direction.
Be polite, Taralynn. Be polite.
“He’s not the dating type, honey.” That’s true. Shawn and I have been sorta seeing each other for over a month. We have sex. That’s all it is. Great, awesome, phenomenal, I can’t get enough of him sex, but just sex. Only sex. We aren’t dating. He made it clear weeks back when we returned from Tupelo that he didn’t want anyone to know we were sleeping together. Talk about a crusher.
“Well, now, I’m not opposed to a little fun. Maybe I’ll see him around then.” Her eyes brighten then she turns and walks away after retrieving her credit card from my hand.
Happy birthday, me.
“Happy birthday.” Shawn perches his elbow onto the glass countertop and leans into it. I look over. There’s only about a foot of distance between us.
“You told me that this morning before I got out of bed.” Oh the memory.
“I said it when my mouth was on your pussy. It doesn’t count.” He smirks. That smile and those eyes; I have to look away. Glancing down, I scan the appointment calendar looking for Shawn’s next client. Hmmm…
“Your schedules blocked off, but it doesn’t say who your next client is.”
“She’s already here.” I look up, there is no one waiting in any chair. Turning my head, I look Shawn in the eyes.
“Where?” Seriously, who the heck is he going to tattoo? A ghost?
“I’m looking at her, babe.”
“Me?” His eyebrow lifts. “I’m not following.”
“I want to give you a birthday present. I want to ink you and I want you to allow me to do it and let it be a surprise.” He’s joking right? “You trust me don’t you?”
“Yes.” I do, but to permanently ink me without me seeing the design. That’s crazy. That’s messed up. No one in their right mind would let anyone do that to them. He’s lost his damn mind. “No way!”
“Come on.”
“I’m not opposed to another tattoo. I’d love one in fact” Cosmo was spot on. They are addicting. Once you get past the week of non-stop itching, you forget about any misery associate with getting a tattoo and you want another. “But I want to see it first.”
He looks at me like I just burst his bubble.
Sooorry. Too bad, buddy.
He huffs air out through his noise.
“At least let me put the transfer on, then you can look and decide. Will that work?”
“Yeah.” I’m excited. “So we’re doing this now?”
“After you.” He holds his arm out, silently telling me to walk toward his table. I do so with a little pep in my step.
After he cleans my skin and dries it, Shawn applies the transfer. When he finishes, he pulls the paper off and quickly balls it up before I can see. Shawn looks at me. His eyes tell me, he’s nervous. He shouldn’t be. I know the design will be beautiful. All of his work is amazing. I have no doubts that I’ll love it, but there was no way I could go through with it without seeing it first.
“Can I look?”
“I guess.” Is he sweating? Shawn Braden? Okay, today just became bizarre. I hop up and swing my legs to the ground so I can stand. Taking a step toward the mirror, I raise my arm.
Shawn’s placed the soon-to-be tattoo on the underside of my left bicep.
What I see in the mirror has confusion and tears springing to my eyes. It’s the rose. The purple one. The transfer displays one single rose not quite in full bloom, with a stem and a ribbon. The ribbon says, ‘Beautiful’, in pretty scripted font. The reason I don’t understand is because I’ve never told anyone what the ribbon on the attached to the rose said. Only the sender and I would know. Right?
“You don’t like it?” His voice is soft. Disappointment is etched in it.
“It’s beautiful. I love it more than the one on my hip, but how? How did you know about it?” Did Trent tell him? Did he see the rose without me knowing?
“It’s not obvious?” If it were would I be asking? I shake my head. “I’m the one that sent you the rose every year on your birthday.”
Talk about revelation.
The tears come harder. One because Shawn’s just revealed he thought about me as far back as high school. He’s thinks or wants me to think I’m beautiful. I’m not sure which. And it was never…
“It was never my brother.” The words come out. I don’t mean for them too, but they do and it’s not because I’m sad that it wasn’t him. Okay, I am a little, but that’s only because he’s gone.
“You thought it was, Trent?” His eyebrows pull together. “Shit, I’m sorry, Tara. I didn’t know you thought that. I wouldn’t have—” He stops mid-sentence.
“No, don’t. I’m happy to learn who the roses were really from. I just would never have thought you sent them to me.” This isn’t like Shawn at all. At least I don’t think. I’ve known him a very long time. He doesn’t do this type of thing. Why me?
“I know you’re having a hard time with Trent’s death. You can talk about it. You can talk to me about it.” Concern. It’s what’s reflecting back at me. That on top of everything…it’s all too much. I bow my head, letting the tears fall to the ground.
I haven’t cried in public in weeks. I was doing so good, keeping the tears locked in until I was alone in the shower where they could fall and not be seen. I don’t want to talk about his death. I don’t even want to talk about his life. I certainly can’t verbalize that to people. I sound awful. Who doesn’t want to remember one of the most important people in their lives? Someone they loved so much and lost way too soon. I’m that awful person and I don’t want anyone to know that.
“Come on.” He takes my hand into his and gently tucks me behind him. I follow until we are behind closed doors in his office; the office that is partially mine since I work here too. I use the space more than he does.
Shawn twists around, letting his black hit the smooth surface of the closed door. Then he pulls me into his arms where he wraps them around me. I love this. Being in his embrace does something that no other person has ever accomplished. I can relax into him. I can’t do that with anyone else.
“Get it out, Tara. Talk about him. Scream, yell, cry, or even hit something if you need to. Hit me. Just get everything out before it swallows you. I know your struggling. I just don’t get why you don’t talk to me, or Mason or even Matt.”
Because I can’t. It’s that simple, but I don’t say that. I tried that with Matt weeks ago and he didn’t get it. I only frustrated him until he’s started to pull away again. I miss my best friend.
I shake my head hoping he takes that as an answer and drops it.
He doesn
’t.
“Tell me, Tara. Tell me, something.” He pushes. I don’t want to be pushed.
“I’m okay. I’m better than I was when it happened.” I pull in air and blow it back out to calm my emotions. “I love the tattoo and I want it.”
“Why don’t you think about it and if you still want it then we’ll do it when you’re ready.” I want it now. I need it now. The pain will only help purge some of the suffocation I feel inside.
“I’m ready.” I force a smile. He sees right through me. Another tactic will be needed. I rub my palm down his crotch.
“Tara.” I like the sound of my name as a warning. I wonder if I can get some type of punishment out of this.
I drop to my knees. I’m in blue jeans and the floor is carpeted with that business type of carpeting so the pants were a good choice today. I wouldn’t want burns on my knees when I’m down.
“I’m going to make you believe me.” I rub over the front of his pants again. He grows hard; I can feel it through the material.
“You want the tattoo, I’ll give you the tattoo and then we can do this later.” He pushes on my shoulder.
“You don’t want my mouth on your dick?” He likes it when I call his cock a dick. He thinks my mouth is too clean so when I use dirtier words, it turns him on. “You don’t want me to suck it down my throat?” He licks his lips.
“Yes, but this might not be the best time or place, baby.”
“But I sit in this office, in your chair, every week and fantasize what it’d be like to get the boss off.” I pop the button one this jeans. “In his office.” Next I slide the zipper down ever so slowly. “Just like this.”
His chest rises and then falls in hurried pants. After I pull his pants down to his knees, I lean forward, into him and smell as I work my mouth up to the black band on his boxer briefs. He smells nice and he should, it’s only been a few hours since he took a shower.
Opening my mouth, my tongue slides out and I lick the skin just above the band making a slow swipe across his lower abdomen.
“Shit.” His words make this worth it. I love that I can do this, turn him on so quickly. It turns me on too.
With my hands, I gather the material between my fingers and pull down. As I do this, I kiss a path down his happy trail. The trail that leads me to the very thing I want to pull into my mouth. I continue kissing down his shaft. He’s hard; hard and ready for me.
I release his underwear when they meet his pants at his knees.
Shawn bends, grabbing my t-shirt from the hem in the back. When he rises back up, he takes my shirt with him, leaving me in my bra and jeans.
“That’s better, but I want them out.” Placing my palms on my breasts, I squeeze the material of the bra, making my cleavage grow. Shawn sucks in another breathe. Running my hands inside, I release my breast, letting them spill over the material. “God, I love your tits.”
Reaching up, I cup his balls and gently massage. With the other hand I fist him at the base of his cock. He’s warm. I pull my fist forward as I continue looking up at him. I love watching him when I do this, when I suck him off. It makes me so wet.
Lowering my head, I lick the tip. When I take him into my mouth, I only suck on the head for a few seconds before gliding him all into my mouth. Working my mouth and fist together, I find a rhythm.
“Fuck, baby.” He grabs onto my hair, fisting the strands in both hands and tightening his grip. I love my hair being pulled. He can do more of that and I’ll be a happy woman.
When I pull away from his base, going up to the tip, I swirl my tongue around making sure I dip the tip of my tongue into the slit in his cock. He loves that. Shawn hardens more and his fingers grip tighter. He’s about to come so I quicken my pace. Sucking up and down, up and down until I feel hot cum squirt toward the back of my throat. I swallow as it comes into my mouth. He’s salty.
When I know he’s almost to the point of being too sensitive, I relax my mouth and pull back. His head is resting on the back of the door. His jaw is locked tight so that he didn’t make a sound alerting anyone to what we are back here doing.
I stand and start to pull my breast back into my bra. Before I’m able to reach down to the ground for my shirt, Shawn grabs me by the waist and fuses my chest to his. Then he lays a kiss onto my lips.
That makes me feel good about what we did. I love knowing he liked it.
“You have the right idea about dirty fantasies in this office. I think I just developed one where I fuck you in my chair.” He smiles.
“You should definitely do that soon.”
“Now seems as good as any.” His eyes rake down to my chest and his palms slide down to squeeze my butt cheeks.
“You have a tattoo to finish.” I raise my arm.
Walking through the hall, toward the kitchen, I smell the first scent of what’s to be a good dinner. It’s Sunday night; Tara is obviously in here preparing dinner.
When I enter the room, I stop dead in my tracks. Damn, if she only knew how hot I think she is. She’s leaned over the counter, her nose in a book I think. She’s wearing a tank top and black yoga pants. That ass is screaming for my hands to mark it. I would have never thought I’d be a man that enjoys spanking a woman. She has the perfect round ass for it. Seeing my handprint on her flesh just does something to me. I can’t explain it, but I like seeing it after I plant my palm on her bare skin.
The house is quiet. I didn’t notice anyone in the living room when I passed by. Our roommates aren’t in the kitchen so I make my way toward Tara until I’m standing directly behind her. Placing one hand on her hip and snaking the other around her front, I pull her into my chest and inhale when I bury my nose in her hair.
I’ll never tire of this smell. She is springtime and honeysuckles.
“Is there a reason I woke up alone in my bed this morning?” Moving my hand, I reach under her shirt, being careful where I touch her. I finished the tattoo on the underside of her arm a little over twenty-four hours ago. It’s still fresh and the wound needs time to heal.
“Yeah, you don’t get up until noon and I had to go grocery shopping.” She laughs as if sleeping that late is unheard of in her world. Oh wait it is. She’s up at the butt crack of dawn every day.
“I require my beauty sleep, baby.” I kiss her on her cheek before flipping her around to face me. “What are you cooking? It smells great.”
“You say that about everything I cook.” She tries to turn back around, but I don’t let her. I like having her in my arms this way. Everyway.
“Nothing special. It’s just a roast.” She points towards the crock-pot. “It’s been cooking all day. I didn’t really do anything.” Dinner is in a crock-pot cooking. That means she doesn’t have to stand over a stove to make sure nothing burns.
I bend my head down a little, more so than usual since she’s barefoot and plant a soft kiss onto her lips. I know I’m being risky. Our friends could walk in at any moment and we’d have to come clean about what’s going on between us. I’m not ready yet. I like it just being her and me. The thought of anyone coming between us, ruining what’s just started has me tightening my grip on her and making me increase the intensity of our kiss.
I’m becoming obsessed with Tara. I want her all the time. I can’t get enough of her. When I‘m at work and she isn’t there or even when she’s working back in my office, I’m thinking about her. When I leave her bed or she leaves mine, it feels wrong. But I know wanting her this much isn’t right either. There should be a healthy balance and I don’t have it.
Her parents would shit a brick if they knew she was with me. They’ll ruin us if they find out. I can’t let that happen so I have to keep us as just us until I can figure out how I can keep her longer. I worry that she’s growing tired of me. That she’s starting to see what her parents see. That thought kills me.
Tara deserves what my parents have. Best friends and lovers connected forever.
She pulls back breaking our connected lips.
&
nbsp; “I need to study. I have a test tomorrow.” She once again tries to turn away from me.
“Yeah, well your pussy sitting on my face sounds more appealing than whatever is in that book sitting behind you.” She gasps telling me I have her just where I want her and within in a few minutes I will have her pussy riding my face. “Come on, baby. Homework can wait.” She nods. Turning, I take her hand into mine and pull her behind me.
If no one is in the house, I intend on making her scream. I’ve yet to hear my name falls from her lips when I make her cum. This keeping quiet bullshit is grating on my last nerve.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Shawn’s mouth is rubbing off on me. Well, inside my head anyway. I’m starting to cuss like a sailor inside my own brain. Before too long that shit will be coming out of my mouth as easy as it does his. It’s not that I don’t cuss or have anything against it. There simply are too many other words that can be used instead, usually, funnier words at that.
This is the third time I’ve jacked up payroll today. It’s not Friday, it’s Wednesday and I’m only here because I have to get payroll done now so I’ll be ready to leave for our Georgia trip in two days. I need out of this state. I need away from school and just everything. Stuffing my face with crab legs and riding through dirt, dust, and mud is the exact escape I need.
Two months.
He’s been gone for two whole months today.
Samantha said the pain would get easier to handle over time. That hasn’t occurred yet. When is that going to happen? I want to fast forward to that day. Every day in my life sucks. I feel so alone. I have no one to talk to. Not because they haven’t offered. Samantha’s tried plenty of times. You’d think with her going through something similar it would be easy to open up to her. It’s not. It feels wrong for some reason. Logically that doesn’t make sense, but it does. My roommates have tried; Shawn the hardest. I want to talk to him. I don’t want to talk to him. I’m scared to talk about it.
It takes another hour, but I finally complete my task and get the checks written. Natalie is going to hand them out for me on Friday. She’s been great for the studio. If she knew accounting, she’d be able to do my job and I’d be able to get back to writing. I haven’t written a single word since before Trent…
More Than Lies Page 26