Tattooed On My Soul

by Lisa DeBells

  I hot-footed it down front steps and stifled a sob of irritation when I noticed the promotion boards that Mitchell and I had posed at. Kissed in front of. Argued and made up over. I balled my fists and crossed them at my chest breathing in heavy short sharp pants. Irritation made way to indignant. How dare he give me mixed signals? He wanted me here then plants himself between two gorgeous women. Was this a joke?

  Jerk!

  I head to the valet, and remind myself not to take it out on the poor guy. I heard my name being called. Well double-fuck balls with a cherry on top.

  I prayed my shoes wouldn’t fail me now, and repeated my mantra; be nice, be nice, be nice to the valet. Because I felt like a bear that just woke from its winter, hungry. Angry and hungry. Hangry, Yes, that was me.

  There was only one person that I didn’t want to see right then, and he was the owner of the husky honey timbre that sounded more furious than I thought it should.

  I made the snap decision to ditch the valet, this would mean stopping when all I wanted to do was run.

  Mitchell called at me to stop. I continued on my road to Nowhere, walking past closed shop-fronts. The louder his voice became, the faster I willed my four-inches of added height to take me, but it was futile. The shoes weren’t made for running, just dancing and looking the shit.

  I was tired, my breath came out in foggy pants, it was that cold. When I finally stopped, goosebumps rippled across my skin; my back exposed to the night, my legs bare. I was sapped and frozen to the core, and hurt and hangry. And Mitchell was here, with his stupid sexy voice, calling me. I didn’t want to look into his eyes, he was heart-break all wrapped up into a devilish package of sin. Something I apparently had a penchant for. Damn it!

  I stayed facing the path I was running-slash-walking on. I didn’t want to look at him. I would have given anything for a taxi to appear. Shit like that happened in the movies, and it was way cool. This was not a movie. Cars passed anyway, mocking me.

  “Eden.” He was much closer than I’d thought. Some of my hostility had left me. If only for the simple reason that he was here, and that damn voice did all sorts of gooey softness to my insides. He wasn’t breathing as hard as me, but I could feel his heat at my bare back as I stood there, like he was touching me. “Turn around.”

  His voice was less gruff, but demanded compliance. He called to something a little more wild and heated, a part I never knew I possessed until him, and that was what worried me. I was a different kind of me when I was with Mitchell, more sure of myself and what I needed in my life, who I needed. I denied my bodies instinct and leaned away from him and wrapped my arms around my waist.

  I wanted to let loose on him and call him every name I could think of, but that would mean admitting he stung me.

  This was nothing to him. Casual sex. I needed to get a handle on that and either accept it for the mad affair it is or shut it down now. I wasn’t as flippant as I thought I could be.

  So I turned, lifted my chin to met the wild green eyes that do crazy shit like make me forget. His breathing had calmed but his jaw ticked, he hooked his hand at the back on his neck.

  “Where do you think your running to Baby?” White bursts of fog blew over my face, entrancing me with his soft voice. His hair was mussed and sexy. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the tattoos that filled me up with lusty delight. The cut of his fitted vest was perfection, and his big man hands were popping the buttons open as I glared threateningly at him. He placed it around my shoulders, careful not to touch my skin.

  “Do not baby me Mitch. I’m going home”

  Looking at what I was going to lose pissed me off all over again, because I really wanted him. To the extreme, wanted him. He was that good.

  I spun back in the direction of the club. I was shocked when Mitchell grabbed my arm and stilled me, I knew he wouldn't let it go. I smarted at the grip he had; it was firm and tight. Zapped for energy I sagged.

  His hand transferred all the little flecks of warmth into my skin and within seconds I was burning for him once again. I was hot everywhere, I throbbed wet for him, as I had been on the precipice all night, expecting this to go where we had both intended.

  I took a deep breath and prepared for the onslaught of his gaze, because I had to look into his eyes when I told him to, “Let me go.” I moved my arm, making my point.

  “You’re coming with me, remember?” His voice was dark and soft. Oh, how I wanted to.

  “You lost me when you decided to sandwich yourself in between your girls.”

  Clearly getting the idea that I would not budge, he circled be abruptly.

  “Those girls are my employees. That’s it.” He shook his head, eyes wide open.

  “You looked way too cozy for that.” I peered out towards the passing cars and tapped my heeled toe in agitation.

  “Eden, if I wanted that . . .” He motioned with his head toward the club. “. . . I wouldn’t be here, chasing you down.”

  I was seething. “What if it was me with a gorgeous man on either side of me?”

  “You’re jealous?” Green eyes blinked rapidly. Now both his hands held my arms in a gentle manner. His question, however, was like a punch in the gut. Shit. I was jealous, and I had no right to be. He wasn’t mine. My night was getting worse all over again.

  I tried to shove him with my palms on his chest, but it was like trying to move a boulder. His smirk was menacing, as his chest tensed under my fingers. The ripped muscle was so tight and perfect. I flashed back to the memory of us, me naked beneath him, running my hands over his back and pulling him into me. Good Lord it was enough to make me want to kiss him and slap him at the same time.

  “I’m not jealous, you douche, I’m humiliated. I don’t like other women touching you. I thought you were mine tonight.” His hands ran down my waist, clasping at my lower back.

  “Eden, don’t over-think what you saw. Trust me, I want the same as you.” His breath was fresh in the cold, laced with alcohol and mint and just him. His vest was doused in his scent also, and it was all I ever wanted to smell from now on. I shivered from the cold or maybe from his words.

  “I don’t get what happened . . . and people have to earn trust, Mitchell. This is as much as I can give you right now.” My voice trembling softly, I pushed a floppy lock of hair back from his face.

  “I watched you sleep for hours, Eden. That first night, then you had a nightmare. We shared a moment, but you didn’t trust me enough, and that’s okay, because that situation was all kinds of fucked. I know you suffered something. But I want to know who fucked you up enough for me to want to fix you.”

  With each word he inched nearer to me. His face was so close that I could close the gap by puckering my lips. My body was attuned to his, and it betrayed what my head told me to do.

  “I’m not a project, Mitch,” I murmured, as if I were drugged.

  “I want to know you, all of you. I’ve never wanted something this much. If you knew me, you’d see this is a big deal.” His lips pressed to my temple.

  He wanted me.

  I wanted this man. All of him.

  He peppered soft chaste kisses down my cheek. I closed my eyes and ran my hands down his torso, feeling each dip of his abdominals. His nose followed the curve of my neck to the back of my ear where he inhaled deeply, smelling me, taking me in, grunting at my small sounds of satisfaction. It was too easy to let go with him. His tongue darted out and the sublime feel of him staking his claim was everything. He took small licks of my neck, my throat. I gripped him tight around the neck, never wanting to let go.

  He kissed the corner of my mouth and pulled my body closer, running his hands down my back, and igniting a trail of heat to every part of me that he touched. He kissed my closed lips all the way to the other side. I wanted desperately to let him devour each and every part of my mouth.

  His lips slanted over mine and I let him take. I moaned into his mouth, my resolve crumbling with each lash of his tongue. I fuckin
g loved it. So raw. I was a slave to his urgent mouth, his sure hands, the rumble of need in his chest. “I fucking need in you baby.” His voice grated out as a hand dipped under my skirt, his fingers teased the leg of my underwear. And I was dead, ready to give it up in the street, where’s that brick wall I had fantasised about?

  All too soon he pulled back and was leaning his forehead onto mine. Our breaths were ragged and in time with each other. I didn’t know what to say, so I was quiet, because ruining this moment would be like a shit soufflé that didn’t rise.

  He spoke first in his low timbre that totally corrupted me. “If you want to go home just say the word, Eden, otherwise—” He gave me his dimpled grin, the one that dropped pants across LA. “—if you say nothing at all I will take you. You’re not obligated to sleep with me, no matter how much I want you.”

  He held his hands tenderly on each side of my face, caressing his thumb over my sensitized bottom lip, eyes wide and filled with honesty. No meant no. And for that I wanted to jump his bones on the street. He made me believe him.

  “Hmm-hmm.”

  “What does hmm-hmm mean?”

  “It means I’m not saying a word.”

  “Good, car’s waiting. C’mon.” He held out his hand and I took it, just like that.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Eden

  A matte black muscle car pulled up to the curb as we approached the valet parking. The engine reverberated in my belly, before it roared to a halt on the curb. I wasn't a guy and I really didn’t think much about cars, but this wasn't just a car. It was a precision machine. Built for speed, its curved body was modeled beefy and sat low to the ground. The wheels matched the paintwork; spiked steel and matte black with super thick mag tyres.. I could definitely admire this car.

  My chin almost dropped to the ground, because the keys to this sexy sleek beast of a ride were handed to the equally sexy sleek beast, Mitchell.

  Well, wasn't he just full of surprises?

  He motioned to the passenger door. I'm getting in this car? Right. I slid onto the leather seat. Just before he closed the door behind me, he winked wickedly. I had the guy and his freaking-hot ride. However temporary.

  The interior smelt new and clean. It was narrow; there wouldn’t be much space between us. The bucket seat hugged my every curve like it was made for me.

  Mitchell slid in, adjusting the seat all the way back to make room for his long legs. Then reached over me and pulled the seatbelt. He clicked it into place. His face was so near to mine my heart kick-started up a notch. I was enveloped in his masculine scent, and I’m pretty sure I could make a shit-load of money if I bottled and sold it. But I was greedy and would never share.

  He tested the belt to make sure it was secure. His expression was unreadable, but I saw the tick of his jaw as he pulled his own seatbelt on, and gunned the engine, bringing this roaring piece of art to life.

  I loved watching Mitchell drive this car. With both hands resting lazily on the steering wheel, his elbow closest to the door was propped up on the window. I marveled at how much this car suited the driver; larger and louder than life, demanding to be noticed. His thick forearms where corded with veins. He was so virile and manly that I just wanted to let him take me any way he wanted.

  He changed lanes to make a right-hand turn, look over his shoulder. He caught my eye for a second, but remained impassive. The occasional streetlight illuminated over his face, causing my stomach to flutter each time I saw his rugged features.

  My hand itched to scratch the stubble on his jaw and feel the prickles under my fingers, so I clasped them together in my lap and tried to pinpoint what street we were on as a way of distraction.

  I closed my eyes and all I saw was Mitchell’s face, in a dozen different expressions and all of them are equally amazing. I wondered if he’d had the same effect on every woman he was with? Of course, idiot. What went wrong and who stuffed up for him to be single? Had he ever been in a relationship? The myriad of questions went on.

  He peered down his nose at me and reached for my hand in my lap, pulling it toward his face. “You OK?” He said and playfully nipped at my finger, the ache pulsed all the way down to my throbbing clit.

  Had he noticed the diversion my mind had taken? Was I that readable? Did I really care, because right now his dark, sexy, voice wanted to know if I was OK. I was way past OK. My body, along with my brain, had taken a left turn at crazy-for-you and now I was heading toward the town of all-my-dreams-coming-true.

  “Yeah, I’m good.” Came a breathy voice that I’d only had since meeting Mitchell.

  I watched his lips quirk into a half-smile as he pulled my hand to his perfectly-shaped lips. He proceeded to brush kisses on my hand and each of my fingers in turn, sending a bright flare of heat to my nipples. He had kept me simmering all night, combined with the heated disagreement we’d had, and now I wanted to feel the spark go off between us.

  I wanted to pull his face to mine and kiss every part. Every part. Of him.

  “How much farther?”

  “How far do you want to go, Eden?” His dimple grin would be my undoing. My cheeks heated; luckily the car was dark and his eyes were on the road.

  “You toy with me, Mitchell Stone,” I snapped back.

  “There is a difference in toying or playing. You, beautiful are not a game to me.” He slows at a red light, pierces me with his eyes and runs a finger down my cheek. “I’m just around the corner.”

  “You know, I would have packed an overnight bag if you’d asked me sooner.”

  A throaty chuckle played out of Mitchell, his eyes danced, like he’d planned this all along, and I had only just realized.

  “It’s not funny.”

  “Yes. It is.”

  “I don’t even have a toothbrush, let alone my face wash.” I wouldn’t mention every item; I was slightly OCD when it came to my routine skincare.

  “If I don’t have it, we will get it delivered. OK?” He placed my hand in my lap and keyed in the code for the garage door of the undercover parking.

  “Where’s your thumbprint now?” I deadpanned and raised my eyebrows impetuously, because I wanted all of my stuff.

  He took my hand, and bit the pad of my thumb then licked his tongue over to soothe it. His eyes glinted wickedly and daring me to pull away or to ask for more, couldn’t tell. I licked my lips and swallowed hard, wondering what I was getting myself into. I was addicted to every part of him. When he smelt behind my ear, my neck and in my hair, his lazy seductive kisses, and the ones where he fucked me with his tongue.

  “Ready?” He brought me back to reality.

  We pulled into a car spot and before I could comprehend what to do next—the simple unclipping of my seat belt—Mitchell had taken fast strides around the car and he opened the door, releasing the seatbelt and lingering in front of me. He kissed the side of my lips quickly and pulled me out of the car.

  We entered the antique elevator, and I relaxed into his arm that had snaked tight around my waist. Mitchell stilled me to his side and we rose quickly, which was great as I had orgasms to have and give.

  The doors opened into a small hallway that had an apartment on each side. He was on the top floor. He reached up onto his toes to the top of the doorframe and snatched up a key that he then used to unlock the door. Afterward, he put it back where it lived.

  “Shh.” He put his finger to his lip. Hmmm little hidey spot, I tucked this information away.

  His apartment was open plan and gigantic; all exposed red-brick walls, warm polished cement and steel. He pulled me further into the room, and our hands stretched out between us. I felt like I was looking into Mitchell’s personality.

  “Come inside.” The warm timbre of his voice encouraged my feet to follow him. “Welcome to my home, Eden.” He opened his hand signalling to the large expanse.

  The most gorgeous wood-grained beams were vaulted to the ceiling. Their color was dark with red hues, which set off the walls in harmony. Huge s
quare pillars cordoned off the living area and hanging on the wall was the largest TV I’d ever seen. It was the size of every man’s dream.

  Everything about Mitchell was made of colossal proportions, from his home to his personality.

  “Your home is so . . . you.” I turned full circle to see every angle. A painting hung high on the wall and I was mesmerized by it, stepping closer. It was so realistic that it could actually be a photo; a black-and-grey image of an elephant on all four knees crouching to the level of a little boy, looking at each other. Understanding. Mutual respect. It was so simple, and not what I expected. I wanted to know the reason why it hung in his house. Did he choose it? What did it mean to him?

  Warm hands rested heavily on my hips and I allowed Mitchell to pull me against him. We studied the image, and he rested his chin in the crook of my neck, then buzzed kisses along my ear, the echo of his growl in my back.

  “What do you see?” he asked.

  “You picked this?”

  “Yeah . . . I did. It’s beautiful, right?” He stopped his slow nuzzling and looked ahead with me.

  “It’s simplistic and full of respect.” I turned so I could see his profile. “Yes, it’s beautiful.” Like you. Handsome enough to make me believe in heaven. I could never have dreamed his jagged beauty into existence. I wanted to thank his parents, his DNA and the lineage from which he came from.

  “Want something to drink?” He walked over to the kitchen.

  “A whiskey would be great.”

  “You’re my kinda woman.” Oh Mitch, if you only knew how much that meant to me.

  “With crushed ice if you have it.” I smiled, but he couldn’t see me. I wasn’t that easy. I heard him chuckle.

  “Come here, Eden. You’re too far away; I want to show you something.”

  I turned around and quirked my eyebrow. Well, I bet you do, I thought as I ambled in his direction.

  ********

  Mitchell

  Well, fuck me sideways. I never would have thought seeing Eden in my home would feel so . . . fucking good. She blew me away with her reaction to my art. On some weird level I think she understood where I was coming from. Years ago, when I purchased it, I knew it would make a wicked centrepiece in my home one day, something about the innocence of the boy and the elephant looking at him like it understood his plight touched me. It had been in storage until I moved in six months ago.