by T Gephart
“Yep, was fortunate enough to have witnessed it.” I laughed, rolling over to my desk while trying to finish the rest of my breakfast. “Let me grab the sketches I’ve done and we can go over them.”
Troy and I sat in the room and finalized the design. He’d really liked the work I’d already done so it was just a matter of tweaking what I already had. I was able to show him the finished product before he had to leave, which meant that when he came in for his next appointment we could get to work on the actual ink.
The rest of the morning was consults as well, which wasn’t usual but actually convenient since I was still pretty tired. I was going to need another shot of caffeine before the afternoon sessions for sure.
“Hey, sexy.” Eve appeared at the open doorway, my last client having left a few moments before. “I’ve got a turkey sub with your name on it.” She waved the bag seductively between her fingers.
“You are a goddess.” The pencil in my hand dropped onto my drafting table, whatever I was doing no longer important. “If you’re not careful I’m going to hold you hostage when it’s time for you to go back to the gallery. As far as I can see, the bastards don’t deserve you anyway.”
Part of that statement was true. The gallery didn’t deserve her. Anyone who would make someone feel like crap was a poor excuse for a human as far as I was concerned. Reviews aside, that they’d treated her like she should be ashamed or something, well that was just the icing on the shit cake.
But I would never force her to stay anywhere. Even if deep down, I hated the idea of not having her with me every day.
“Please.” She sauntered in, her personal brand of food delivery blowing Uber Eats right out of the fucking water. “In about another week everything is going to be so organized, you won’t even need me. You should definitely hire another tattoo artist though.” She took a seat opposite me and dropped the sandwich on the desk.
“You’ve been talking to Dallas, huh?” The sly grin told me she hadn’t come to that conclusion on her own even if it was accurate. “You sure I can’t convince you to learn? Think of how much fun we could have. Lots of skin on skin practice before we even get to the machines.”
“I’ve already told you, we do not want me going anywhere near someone’s skin.” She smirked. “But nice try, you should be in recruiting with a pitch like that.”
“I’d like to point out that pitch was personalized.” I leaned across my table. “No one else is getting that kind of training.”
“You say all the right things, don’t you?” She schmoozed, her eyelids batting like crazy.
“So, not that I don’t appreciate the personal delivery, but don’t we usually have lunch out front together? And it hasn’t escaped my attention there’s only one sub here. I wasn’t sure we were at the sharing food stage of the relationship.”
“Actually, I was hoping to take a few hours off.” She smiled, her voice a little hesitant. “I wanted to pick something up to wear for Friday night and there wasn’t going to be time between now and then. Both you and Dallas only have two people this afternoon. And all the messages have been cleared, stock levels checked with low items reordered and everything else is done.” She blew out the sentence, almost out of breath.
“Of course you can have the afternoon off.” She’d more than earned the time, effectively doing what most people would do in three days, into one. “Do you want to take my Jeep?” I reached into my pocket for my keys.
“Thanks, but no.” She screwed up her nose, her head shaking. “Even thinking about parking that thing makes me want to barf. I’m going to go get my car, it’s easier to drive.”
“This isn’t your way of weaseling out of spending the night again?” I was only half joking. “I thought I made myself clear this morning.”
“Relax, I’ll drive back tonight.” She rolled her eyes, rising back to her feet. “I may even pick up something else to wear tonight, especially for you.” The suggestion backed up by a wicked grin.
“Don’t get anything on my account, I prefer you naked.” I stood up and rounded the desk, my hands finding their anchor around her waist. “But by all means, enjoy shopping.”
“Predictable.” She reached up and kissed my lips. “Don’t forget to eat.” Her eyes dropped to the sandwich on my desk. “You’ll need your stamina for when I get back.”
“I wasn’t the one who was complaining this morning,” I reminded her. “You should go,” I warned, being so close to her and remembering last night not giving me an incentive to let her leave. “Before I find something else to eat other than the sandwich.”
“Tonight, you can eat whatever you like.” Her body twisted in my arms and blew me a kiss. “Bye, Josh.”
I watched her leave, her hips swaying unnecessarily and I knew it was on purpose. Stirred up feelings both in my chest and the other organ, the one that hung a lot lower than my heart.
This girl was going to be the death of me. She had me twisted in knots I had no hope untying. Not that I wanted to. Wherever that road we were on was leading, I was heading there willingly.
Eve
I HAD SPENT ALMOST EVERY WAKING MOMENT with Josh since Wednesday. Well, really Tuesday if you wanted to get technical, pretty sure the few hours we were apart were when I was asleep and so didn’t count.
It made sense for us to sleep at his apartment; it was walking distance from the shop and meant we didn’t have to make that killer commute from Manhattan every morning. Funny how it never really bothered me before, but spending the extra time in bed in the morning became a huge motivator. And while I missed my huge two-person shower with its thirty-five water jets, and not having to compete for bathroom time, I was slowly becoming a fan of cramped spaces. It led to lots of touching. Most started innocent enough, a hand on my hip while he tried to scoot by. But soon that incidental touch would turn into something else. Which made me forget about what I was doing in the first place.
Which is why even though work was so close to where we were spending our nights, we were usually there right on opening time. Funny thing was, neither of us seemed to mind.
The gallery showing had been something I contemplated intermittently. I wasn’t so much nervous—no longer willing to hide behind someone else’s veil of shame—as I was anxious. Sort of like hitting the gym after a hiatus. You were sure your body would know what to do, but it would also feel awkward until you got back into the rhythm.
There were people I hadn’t seen in a few weeks, some of which I actually missed. Not the gallery director though, Mr. Ashton could go suck a big bag of dicks. We’d never really gotten along, and his reaction to my show sealed the deal for bad feelings. He was the one who suggested I take personal time, who snickered when reviews came out the next morning. I was mad at myself for not being stronger and telling him to shove his personal time right up his ass.
Still, like a stack of dominoes it had all brought me to where I was. So I couldn’t be totally angry. I was more motivated and inspired than I’d ever been and I had an awesome new boyfriend as well. Some might say I’d hit the jackpot, and I wouldn’t argue.
I was excited to walk in there tonight with Josh and show him my world. One, because fuck them, I wasn’t out for the count. And two, because I loved the art. Seeing it on the walls, walking around and contemplating it. Drinking it in and trying to imagine the artist’s thoughts. It’s what I hoped people would do with my pieces, and to be fair, they kind of did. It wasn’t their fault my mind had been stuck in bored-and-going-nowhere so naturally my work chose to follow.
“Hey, baby,” I crooned into the phone while I finished my makeup. As the gallery was on my side of town it made sense to get ready at my apartment and have Josh meet me. “You on your way?”
The idea of getting ready and surprising him had also played a part. We had missed out on the whole dating thing, so I wanted to take the opportunity to experience that opening-the-door-and-seeing-him buzz whenever I could.
“I’m in the car as we spe
ak.” His voice echoed out of the speaker and bounced off my tiled walls. “You need me to pick anything up? Whipped cream, chocolate sauce, condoms?” His chuckle peppered the air.
“Oh, baby.” I could barely contain my smile. “You got confused. It’s an ART show, not SEX show. Easy mistake but sadly the nudes we’ll be seeing won’t be sucking anyone’s dick.”
He laughed, the sound making my body tingle. “Well this is awkward. I’m assuming my leather codpiece and chaps probably wasn’t the way to go. Too late now, you’ll just have to be cool with turning heads tonight.”
“Well then I better get into my pearl G-string and dominatrix boots.” I added extra lashings of black mascara. “I would hate for you to have all the attention.”
“I’ll be there in ten.”
“You said you just left, you can’t make it across town in ten minutes.” My hand paused mid stroke, the mascara wand still in my hand. Unless he had a helicopter—which he didn’t—and even then it was dicey. Manhattan’s airspace was almost as crowded as the roads.
“I can,” his voice rumbled out of the phone, “if I know all you’re going to be wearing is a G-string and a pair of boots.”
“Pervert.” I laughed, shaking my head. “Drive carefully and I’ll see you when you get here. I’d like you to be in one piece as well, and no outstanding warrants for excessive speeding either.”
“Anything for you.”
I believed him too, the heat radiating across my entire body as we said our goodbyes and hung up.
It was some time later—not ten minutes like he had threatened—when he knocked at the door. His name had been given to my doorman, but he didn’t have a key so I was expecting the knock. But I still had butterflies in my stomach as I walked to the door and opened it.
“Oh. My God.”
The air was knocked out of my lungs as I stood in front of a black-suit-wearing Josh.
He looked amazing, the jacket framing his shoulders perfectly as it buttoned up in front of his narrow waist. His long legs in black dress pants made him look impossibly tall, with the crisp white shirt making his blue eyes pop.
“Wow.” He seemed to be oblivious that I’d become a statue at the door, my eyes about to pop out of my skull as he walked into my apartment. The invitation to come in not extended because I couldn’t speak. “You look beautiful.”
The dress I’d picked was cobalt blue. I’d fallen in love with it before I’d tried it on, knowing how much it reminded me of his eyes. It was satin and fell all the way to the floor. The two thick straps from the front crisscrossed on my back leaving mainly exposed skin, the liquid material clinging to my body and rippled as I moved. It was old Hollywood at its finest, my hair tamed into a sophisticated topknot. My makeup to match.
“Are you kidding?” I couldn’t even thank him for the compliment as my eyes remained glued to him. “You can’t go out looking like that.”
Most of his tattoos were hidden. Only a few rogues peeked out of the starched shirt from the collar, giving a hint to the wild that simmered underneath. The longer part of his hair that he usually styled into a messy quaff had been slicked back neatly. And on his chin he’d left a tiny bit of stubble, playing rebel to the clean cut the rest of him was representing. And put all together, it was enough heat to incinerate not only my panties, but any woman’s underwear in a five-mile radius.
“What are you talking about?” He twisted, looking at his outfit for something I might be offended by. “You said a suit, this is a suit.”
“I said wear a suit, not combust my vagina.” I waved in his direction, taking a step back. “I think . . . no, I know, that you are the hottest man I’ve ever seen.”
“Wow, guess the couple of hundred bucks I spent on this thing yesterday was worth it.” He adjusted his cuff. “You weren’t the only one who took a trip to the mall.”
“You picked that up from a mall?” I shook my head, wondering how he made a couple-of-hundred-dollars suit look like a million bucks. “Wow. Just. Wow.” Words eluded me.
“Forget the suit.” His hands circled around my waist. “We have more important things to discuss.” He glanced down at my breasts, the tops peeking out from the bodice of my dress. “Like how I’m supposed to act respectful with you dressed like that. Makes me want to do dirty things.”
Heat filled his eyes, drinking me in from head to toe like he couldn’t get enough. It was dizzying, making my heart skip a beat as I tried to remember the last time anyone looked at me like that. I was almost positive, no one ever had.
“I’m pretty sure the gallery has a policy against public fornication. I think we’re both going to be in trouble tonight.” My fingers wrapped around the lapels of his jacket, mentally calculating how much damage I would do to my makeup and hair if I pushed him up against the wall and screwed his brains out. Whatever it was, it would be worth it.
“You looking at me like that, isn’t helping.” His hands slipped lower, cupping my butt as he pulled me toward him. The hard length in his pants leaving nothing to interpretation. “And yes, I’ve already thought about it. On the floor, on the couch or up against the wall. Any or all of those places.” He rubbed himself against me, the ridge of his cock taunting me through his suit and my dress. “But it means we’ll be late. Very late. Like next week kind of late. Because it’s going to be that long until I’m even close to getting my fill of you.”
Did I even want to go to this stupid—my earlier excitement and praise of the event now missing in action—art show? It was pictures on the wall. I’d seen it many times, could read all about it tomorrow. Seeing it in person was highly overrated.
“We don’t have to stay long,” I rationalized, trying to remind myself that it wasn’t just the art we were going to see but some of my work friends and colleagues. I’d seen his world, time to show him mine yada, yada, yada. “An hour, two, at the most.”
“Nope, we’re not only going to go.” His grip around my hips tightened. “But we’re going to stay until the very end. Everyone is going to see how fucking beautiful you are, and then they are going to see you coming home with me.”
“I think I should be offended by something in that maybe, but I can’t get past how hot it sounded coming out of your mouth.” I swallowed hard. “Let me grab my clutch.”
Of course, in order for me to do that, he’d have to let me go.
Which he hadn’t.
He waited a second, his eyes steamrolling over my body again before brushing my lips with a gentle kiss. “Anymore than this and I won’t be able to stop.”
You’re telling me. All I could do was make a weird noise in the back of my throat, which was a cross between a moan and possibly an animal dying.
Once his hands had freed me, I gathered my clutch and my keys. “There’s no way I can climb into the Jeep in this dress. You mind if we take my car?”
“No problem at all.” Surprisingly, he gave me no resistance. “I should drive though, seeing as I’m not the one wearing stilts.” His chin dipped down to the floor, the edges of my Louboutins just visible underneath the dress.
“Yep sounds great.” I tossed him the keys, his hand pressing on my lower back as we left my apartment.
I had hoped he wouldn’t assume that his car wasn’t flashy enough, because honestly I couldn’t give a shit. And had I not been wearing a dress that gave me the leg movement range of a geisha, I would have been all about getting into his big, manly car. He didn’t mention it and I didn’t want to plant a seed if it wasn’t there to begin with, so with my mouth shut, I slipped into the passenger seat of my Tesla.
Josh looked at ease in the driver seat, his fingers wrapping around the steering wheel as he pulled out of the parking garage and onto the street. And if he had any hesitation of going tonight, he wasn’t showing it.
“So this is where you work?” he asked as we pulled up to Lenore West, the private gallery where I’d had spent most of my days in the last twelve months.
“Yeah, it’s smal
l and by appointment only.” I sighed, some of the old doubts coming back to me from when I originally took the job. “Not as impressive as the MET or MoMa, but I got to actually work with artists and had a chance to see some of the pieces move from our walls into people’s homes.”
Didn’t sound so awesome anymore. Basically, it felt like I’d gone to college just to become a very knowledgeable sales person. Sure, I was oversimplifying it. I could tell you why one painting was worth a million dollars and why another was only a couple of hundred thousand, but it had never been my dream. The only art I had wanted to sell was my own. A curator—like my parents had assumed I would have become—at least had some nobility about it.
Oh. Fuck.
This was a hell of a time for the wake-up call.
“You okay?” Josh had popped open his door but hadn’t stepped outside yet. I guess me sitting silently, staring through a windshield trying not have a nervous breakdown might be concerning.
“You want to go?” He closed the door, ignoring the valet standing beside the car ready to take the keys. “If you’ve changed your mind, we can go. Fuck this place.”
“It’s not the place.” I shook my head, thoughts swirling wildly in an ironic moment of clarity. “It’s not even the people in the place. It’s me.”
“What are you talking about?” His brow furrowed, rightly confused considering the person he was talking to wasn’t making any sense.
“Let’s go inside.” The kind of conversation it required taking longer than the few minutes we had in the car. I wasn’t even sure a day would cover it. “I promise we’ll talk about it later.”
“Are you positive?” he asked, his hand hovering at the door handle after waving off Mr. Valet Guy who had knocked at the window.
“Yep, I’m positive.” I plastered my best smile on my face and opened my door.
Josh had tossed the keys to the kid and was around to my side before I had a chance to fully step out. His hand wrapped around my waist as I straightened on the sidewalk, the additional support welcome, given the high heels and the long dress.