by Mary Birk
She took a deep breath. “Let’s get started. It’s not going to get any easier if I put it off.”
Seth rolled down the tank top Lucy had worn under her shirt, exposing her breasts and the enormous elaborate red and black snake that slithered up between them and around her neck. The gel he’d had her spread on the tattoo had dried, leaving her feeling sticky and slightly cold. He tapped her skin with his gloved hands several places along the snake’s path. “Feel numb yet?”
“I guess. Go for it.” Being a nurse, she was well acquainted with topical anesthetic creams and knew they could only take the edge off so she’d popped a couple pills in the parking lot to make the treatment easier to endure.
Seth was tall, thin, and looked years older than his actual age, which Lucy knew to be in his early forties. He wore a long-sleeved black t-shirt and his straight black hair was tied back with a leather shoelace, exposing his neck and only the beginning of the tats that fully jacketed him. He turned on the laser and eased her down until she was lying flat, then took her chin, lifting it up to give him easier access to her neck.
“I’ll start with the part that shows most and work my way down. Keep taking steady, deep breaths and let me know if it gets too intense and you need a break.”
She nodded, braced herself. The burning zap that hit her neck still surprised her.
“Ow!” She screwed up her face, but kept her neck and head absolutely still. “This hurts more than when you inked it on.”
Seth nodded, but his eyes stayed as focused as the laser itself on the spot where he was working. “I told you it would be a mega-bitch if you ever wanted it off. I did the colors deep.”
She slid her eyes over to him. “Please. I was sixteen.”
He dabbed the part he’d burned with a moist compress.
“And you told me you were eighteen.” He narrowed his eyes with the laser’s path. “It’s a fucking work of art. I hate to see it go.”
She caught her lip with her teeth and tried to block out the stinging pain. She should have taken another pill, maybe even taken enough to put her to sleep, but that would have freaked Seth out.
“How bad will the scar be?” She spoke slowly so her mouth wouldn’t make her neck move.
“Depends. There’s a lot of ink in there. We’ll have to do it in probably seven or eight sessions. We’ll need to let you heal between times. I should be able to get a better idea after this first one.” The laser crackled on its way down the snake. “I don’t think it will be bad.” He blotted the burn with the antiseptic pad between laser attacks.
She wanted to nod but didn’t move her head.
“What made you decide to get rid of it?”
She gave a cautious smile, moving just her lips. “I’m getting married.”
“No shit? To who?” Zap and dab.
“Can’t tell you.”
“Why not?” Zap and dab.
“We haven’t told people yet.”
“Right.” His voice had seen it all. “He’s married.”
“I didn’t say that.”
Seth shrugged a whatever kind of shrug. “He doesn’t like the snake?”
“It’s okay for a girlfriend, but not for a wife.” Not for his wife, she thought. Not and go to the places he went.
“He the one that gave you the pretty purple jaw?”
There’d been no way to hide the ugly bruise. “Does it look bad?”
“Looks painful.”
“Yeah.” Lucy frowned and thought about how she’d explain her bruise at work. A car accident, she’d say. Not a bad one, but she’d hit the steering wheel. Her yellow Volkswagen bug was old, no air bags. Believable, or at least, believable enough.
“You always go for the bad boys, Luce.”
“He’s not usually into the rough stuff.” She kept her neck arched so Seth could work and risked a small smile. “Except with sex, but I don’t mind that.”
Seth nodded. “I remember. Stay still.”
The laser zipped in short bursts along her neck. She had always been attracted to men who were a little dangerous, a little on the edge—the kind of men that made life exciting. Her predilection for getting into trouble had almost caused her to flunk out of high school, but luckily she’d been able to pull herself together and get into, and through, nursing school. She’d surprised everyone, including herself, with how well she’d done.
“It was my own fault.”
“Right.” The laser was on the skin of her breastbone.
She rolled her top lip in and caught it with her teeth, then released it when he eased off with the laser and pressed the compress to cool her skin. “He loves me.”
“Right. He give you the stripes on your back, too?”
Lucy blinked a small nod. “But that was for play.”
Seth rolled a tiger growl low in his throat. “God, I like the way you play, Luce. So you back in Bodega Bay for the weekend?”
“Just till tomorrow. Thanks for staying open late for me. Especially on Valentine’s Day.”
“No problem. I wasn’t doing anything. Are you staying with your aunt?”
She rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately.”
Seth frowned. “I thought you liked her.”
“Her, yes, but Gus’s mother’s moved in. Violet.” She stretched the name out on her tongue. “The bitch has my old room. Plus I can’t smoke unless I go outside.” Lucy kept perfectly still while he concentrated on a large section of the snake’s body. She would be glad to get back to her condo in Santa Rosa where she could do what she wanted, when she wanted, and with whoever the hell she wanted. Even so, if it weren’t for that dammed Violet, she’d visit more often. Aunt Martha’s house had been her home since her parents died when she was fourteen, but now the whole atmosphere was different—tense—and the old bitch was always slinking around with her dirty looks and snide remarks.
When her aunt left to babysit the Grainger kid for the big Valentine’s Day party, a party Lucy should have been at with the man she loved, Lucy had been stuck there with Violet. Gus grumbled about Aunt Martha being a slave to the high and mighty Graingers, but her aunt’s job as housekeeper for Andrew Grainger was what paid the bills. Thankfully, Gus had gone out for the night not long after that, and Violet took her miserable ass to bed early, leaving Lucy to stew about being alone again on Valentine’s Day.
She exhaled as Seth pressed the compress to the area he’d just burned. “So how much is this going to cost me?”
The compress disappeared and Seth’s long fingers held her breasts apart while the laser zapped the snake’s tail that curled between them. “Depends.”
She winced at the laser’s bite. “Ballpark?”
He raised the hand with the laser wand, kept his other hand in position between her breasts. “This equipment is wicked expensive.”
“How much?”
He bent back down to work on the snake’s tail. “Like I said, depends. Two grand to nothing.”
“Depends on what?”
He raised his brow, met her eyes. “You bring me something?”
She gave a slight nod. “In my purse.”
He set down the laser wand, rummaged around in her purse, and pulled out a sandwich bag full of an assortment of pills. “Nice, but not two grand worth.”
“I can bring a bag each time. Can’t take too many at once. Someone would notice.”
“I’m still going to have to charge you something.” He picked up the laser and got back to work.
Lucy tried to blank out the stinging burn, considered her bank account, then reached her hand out to cup his groin. He jumped back.
“Jesus, Luce, don’t do that while I’ve got this in my hands. I could have hurt you.” He leaned down and lightly pressed his lips to hers.
She slid her tongue into his mouth while she caressed him through his jeans. “The pills and this? Deal?”
“Your mouth?”
“Um-hmm. Or whatever.”
“Whatever?”
&nbs
p; “Whatever, but no marks. I don’t want him to see.”
“Each time?”
“Yes.”
“Tonight, too?”
“Um-hmm.”
“Deal.”
Lucy closed her eyes while Seth finished his work with the laser, her mind on the man she loved. She should have been the one with him at the party tonight; she should have been the one wearing a drive-him-crazy-sexy dress; she should have been the one he took to bed afterwards. She gingerly raised her hand and fingered her jaw, careful not to move her body. Maybe an ice pack would help.
She’d given him her ultimatum. Marry her or she’d tell everything.
That was when he’d belted her.
His blow had propelled her across the room, and she’d hit the wall. After he’d gotten over being mad, though, she’d reminded him why he liked being with her. Doing it with a sore face and a throbbing skull wasn’t easy, but blow jobs were her specialty. And when she’d finished, he promised they wouldn’t have to wait much longer.
This would be the last Valentine’s Day she spent without him.
Chapter 3
“THAT WAS HIM on the phone, wasn’t it?” Andrew sat on the bed and took off his shoes. The ends of his black bow tie hung loose around his neck and the top two buttons of his tuxedo shirt were unfastened.
Anne glanced at him, nodded. Neither one of them needed clarification on who him was.
“What did he want?”
“We didn’t get much of a chance to talk, but he was in San Francisco, at the airport.”
“Why?” Andrew went to the closet and dropped his shoes in. He took off his shirt, then came over to her. “Need help, beautiful?”
She put her arms around his neck. He folded her into an embrace, his hands running along the edge of her bodice, then around to her back. Pulling her zipper down, he released her from her dress, and pushed it down along her body until it lay at her feet. He took her hand and helped her step out of the circle of fabric.
He leaned into her and kissed her neck. “Anne, I asked you why he was in town.” His touch was gentle, but his voice was sharpened steel.
“I guess he wants to meet with me.”
“When?”
She pulled away, picked up her dress to lay it on a chair. “He wanted to meet tonight—he thought he could be here by ten, but I told him I couldn’t meet tonight.”
“Tonight? What kind of a meeting would he want to have at ten at night?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “He thinks he can come into town and just climb back into bed with you, doesn’t he?”
“I’m sure that’s not what he’s thinking. He isn’t interested in me.”
He came up behind her and unfastened her bra. “Are you interested in him?”
“Andrew, don’t be like this. It’s over between us.”
“So is he still coming?”
“I think so. He wasn’t happy I couldn’t see him tonight. I told him I’d meet him tomorrow morning for breakfast. At the café.”
“You were going to tell me this when?”
She turned, nipped at his lip, smiled. “Now. I couldn’t during the party.”
“I’m going with you. I’ll get someone to watch Lenore while we’re gone.”
“No, Andrew. That’s not necessary. Besides, who would you get at this short notice? It will be fine.”
She went to the dresser and started taking her hair down.
He followed her, pulled her against him so she was in front of him, facing the mirror, and put his hands over her breasts. “You look gorgeous with your hair loose and wearing nothing but those little lace panties.”
Anne hoped they’d left the subject of her estranged husband.
No such luck.
Andrew played with her nipples while he ran kisses along her shoulder. “What did he say about the annulment? What’s the status? I hope he’s bringing the damned papers. It’s about time he quit dragging this out.”
She bit her lip, but didn’t say anything. She knew he wouldn’t be happy with the answer.
“Anne?”
She took a deep breath. “He said he hasn’t done anything yet.”
Andrew’s head snapped up. “What? He hasn’t even started it? What the fuck has he been doing?”
“Don’t shout at me.” Tears sprang to her eyes. She pulled away from him, leaned over and dug in her overnight bag for her nightgown, then slipped it over her head.
“Wasn’t he supposed to be taking care of it?” Anne could tell he was trying to keep his voice at a calmer pitch, but his efforts simply made the angry words spit out of his mouth one by one.
She nodded, looked at him uneasily. “I guess he’s been busy.”
Andrew’s efforts at calm ended. “Busy? Busy? We put our lives on hold because he’s busy? Jesus, Anne, I could have had you out of that marriage months ago.”
“Let’s not fight. Let me talk to him tomorrow and see what the problem is. He’s probably bringing papers for me to sign to start the process.”
“I hope goddamn so. Babe, you need to move on. We need to move on.” He took her into his arms then one hand lifted her nightgown while the other one moved her panties down. “Let’s get these off.”
“You don’t fight fair.”
“I thought you didn’t want to fight.”
“I don’t.”
He had his mouth on hers and his hands were …distracting. “Anne, I want to marry you as soon as you’re free. Getting things finalized will be good for all of us. Then we can get on with our lives.”
“Can we talk about this later?”
He pulled back from her but didn’t release his hold on her. “Anne, goddamn it, we can’t keep drifting like this.”
“I just need some time.”
“Fine.” Andrew abruptly let her go and went to his closet, took off his pants. “You think he’s coming back for you, don’t you? That’s it, isn’t it?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then why can’t you give me an answer? You love me, I love you. God, Anne, I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.” His voice softened. “Tell me, babe. What’s wrong? What’s holding you back? I’ll do anything.”
“Andrew, I’m just not sure I’m ready to be what you need me to be.”
“You’re already what I need you to be. You’re perfect for me, for Lenore.”
“That’s just it. I’m not sure I am. Ready to be a mother, I mean.”
“We’ve had this discussion before, and it still doesn’t make sense to me. You love Lenore, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“And she loves you, so what’s the problem?”
“That’s not the same as being a mother.”
“Babe, there’s nothing to it. You’ll be a great mother. Besides, I’ve taken care of Lenore without a wife for six years—any time you’re with us will be a bonus.”
“Andrew, you know very well that one of the things that Terrence and I fought about was having children right away. How can I say it’s okay with you when I wouldn’t with him? That’s not fair to him.”
“Bullshit! That wasn’t the only thing you two fought about.”
“Can’t we talk about this later? After he’s gone?”
“So you’d marry me if I didn’t have Lenore? Is that what you’re saying?”
Out of nowhere came a loud knock on the door. Andrew blew out a breath of annoyance. “Yes?”
A voice Anne recognized as Frank Bolton’s said, “Andrew, sorry to bother you, I just wanted to let you know I’ll be in and out of the house for a while yet getting things closed down. I wanted to make sure you weren’t turning on the alarm any time soon.”
“No, that’s fine. Thanks.”
“Great. I’ll see you in the morning.”
For the first time, Anne was actually grateful for an interruption by the odious man. She hadn’t actually meant what she’d said about not being ready to be a mother. That had been true before, but not anymo
re. She’d needed to stall Andrew, and that was the first thing she thought of to say.
Andrew turned back to her, and she wrapped her arms around him. “Give me some time, okay? It was such a lovely party—I don’t want to fight.” She smoothed his hair with her hand. “Everyone thought you were wonderful.”
He caught her hand, put it to his mouth. “Even you?”
She smiled. “Definitely me.”
He pulled her against him, lifted her nightgown over her head. “Come to bed. I’ll be even more wonderful. I promise everything will be okay in the morning. Trust me.”
Chapter 4
ANNE RAISED HERSELF up on one elbow, brushed her hair away from her face and gazed at the man lying next to her in bed. His sleeping face, so completely relaxed, contrasted markedly with the intense alertness that characterized it when he was awake. His wavy brown hair was perhaps longer than was fashionable, its thick curls coming to the middle of his neck, the front locks tending to fall in his eyes, but it looked right on him. On the nightstand next to the intercom lay his reading glasses, the edge of their pewter rims catching the light of the digital clock next to the photographs of her and his daughter. She loved the way he looked in his glasses, so studious, and even more, how he looked without them, his bluish gray eyes like the sky over the bay when it was just a little cloudy.
Anne bent over and softly kissed the side of his mouth at that tender place where his lips began. As always, their lovemaking had been pleasurable and releasing. She had always been able to so easily lose herself in sex. She sighed and laid her head back down on the pillow.
The wind blew loudly against the house. The old windows held their own but still rattled slightly. Raindrops pelted by the wind pinged on the glass. Anne pulled the covers up around her and put her hand on Andrew’s shoulder, sinking into the comforting, safe feeling of being inside when the weather is bad.