Tattooed Sweetheart: Sweetheart, Colorado

by Snow, Jenika

  He held up both hands and shook his head. “I’m being serious, man. You’re a stand-up guy, and she’s going to enjoy herself no matter where you take her. Hell, you could take her to one of those fast-food chains, and she would be in seventh heaven.” Ryder looked at me, and at my expression, he repeated, “I’m being serious, Malkolm.”

  I looked away, because damn, I was a little embarrassed by the confidence Ryder was suddenly giving me. But the longer I thought about it, the more I hoped he was right.

  I hoped I hadn’t screwed up this first date right out of the gate, because I wanted this to work with Flora.

  I wanted it more than I’d ever wanted anything else in my life.

  5

  Flora

  Porky’s.

  That was the actual name of the restaurant Malkolm wanted to meet at. Well, he offered to pick me up, but I figured for the first date I should at least attempt to act like I wasn’t desperate for him, so I just said I’d meet him here.

  Porky’s was just right out of Sweetheart, kind of located in the middle of nowhere, the building situated with open fields surrounding it. But it was still close enough to town that I didn’t feel anxious about driving out here. But the truth was, I would’ve gone anywhere Malkolm wanted to. I was just excited and deliriously happy to have found some kind of connection with someone.

  And that’s what it is, isn’t it? A connection, one that went deeper than just on the surface. It was one that had me questioning everything else in the best possible way.

  It’s one that tells me waiting to be with someone emotionally invested had been the best idea of my life.

  I exhaled slowly as I sat in the driver seat of my car, staring at the neon pink sign that slowly flashed OPEN. There was a pig wearing a bib right beside that, a neon outline around it in brilliant orange. The pig had a fork in one hoof and a knife in the other—which didn’t make sense, because how was it holding it with no opposable thumb?

  I shook my head as my mind wandered, something that happened when I was nervous.

  Porky's was a barbecue place, one that had signs all over the windows in bold declarations that it was VOTED #1 BEST BBQ IN THE STATE THREE YEARS IN A ROW!

  I looked back at that neon pig that wore a big grin on its face. Was it cannibalism if he was getting ready to eat pork?

  I grabbed my phone and looked down at the screen, unsure if I should send Malkolm a text letting him know I was here. But before I could wonder about it too long, a truck pulled into the parking lot, the headlights flashing through my windshield and blinding me momentarily.

  The large pick-up ended up in the spot right beside my car, and I could see Malkolm sitting in the driver seat. He already had his focus on me, the corner of his mouth kicked up. I felt tingles moving along my body at that small grin and curled my hand around my phone hard enough I was actually worried I might snap the thing.

  Was it normal or natural to have this intense of a reaction toward someone, and arousal that had me scatterbrained? Was this desire I felt simply because I didn’t know any better, simply because I’d never experienced it before? Or maybe I should stop questioning everything and just enjoy what was happening and embrace it.

  Resolving myself to go with the latter, I gave him a smile back and lifted my hand in an undoubtedly awkward wave. We climbed out at the same time, and I could see a scowl on his face as he looked at my door.

  I followed his gaze and then looked back at him. “What? Is something wrong?”

  He shook his head slowly and said, “I should’ve opened the door for you. It would’ve been the gentlemanly thing to do.”

  I couldn’t help it. I let that smile wash across my face so it was so big and probably so goofy-looking that Malkolm probably thought I was a lunatic.

  He was sweet, so sweet that I wanted to just melt against him. Malkolm may look hard and rough around the edges with those tattoos, but he was a good guy.

  He was more than that, although I didn’t know what that was.

  He gave me this slow, sinfully sexy smile, and without saying anything, he gestured toward the restaurant and led the way. I could tell he was tense and wondered if he was just as nervous as I was.

  “I’m sorry about taking you here for our first date.”

  My footing faltered silently, not because he mentioned the restaurant, but because he said the first date, like there was definitely going to be more than one. “What?” I finally said after a second passed and I realized he stopped right before the entrance. I could hear country music coming through the closed double doors, and although everything was so bright with the lights from the signs on the building, and the streetlights, I was in my own world as I stared up at Malkolm.

  “I’m sorry I picked Porky's for our first date.”

  Reality finally settled in, and I felt my brows lower in confusion. I looked at the front entrance for a second before turning my attention back to Malkolm. “Why would you be sorry?” Yeah, Porky’s was a boisterous establishment, but it was also a place I’d never gone before, and it looked like their food was incredible.

  He rubbed the back of his neck and stared down at his feet. “I thought maybe… it was too gaudy, too loud.” He looked up at me then.

  “I think it’s going to be great, Malkolm.”

  I saw his whole body relax and then a smile of… relief crossed his face.

  “Come on. I’m starving, and all this hype about it being the best barbeque has me curious to dig in.”

  He grinned then, flashing straight, white teeth and looking so happy. He held the front door open for me, and I walked in, instantly amazed by the place. The lights were low, but there were enough neon signs on the walls, even hanging from the exposed wooden beams, that the whole atmosphere was almost dreamy in quality.

  There was a hostess desk off to the left, but numerous people loitered around, leading me to believe the wait-time was probably insane.

  Malkolm leaned in, and I felt his warm breath along my ear. I suppressed a shiver of awareness. “Give me one second,” he said low, gruffly.

  I nodded as I watched him head toward the hostess desk. He said something to the older woman working, and she looked down at a list, then nodded before grabbing two menus and walking out from behind the podium.

  Malkolm was back to me and tipping his chin toward her direction. “Ready?”

  I nodded again, not about to ask how we’d gotten in so quickly. I couldn't see this place allowing reservations, but maybe?

  We passed a massive soup-and-salad bar and weaved around tables of people wearing bright white plastic bibs, their table topped with all kinds of barbequed meat.

  Once seated, the hostess handed us our menus but gave us the rundown about how we could experience the full Porky’s experience, all you can eat, where servers brought platters of all the meats they provided.

  Then she did another rundown of all the sides, desserts, and the million different types of beer they offered.

  We were left alone after that, and I stared at Malkolm, feeling my eyes widen. “Wow, that was a lot to take in.”

  He chuckled and nodded, and I glanced down at the folded plastic bib sitting at my place setting.

  “How about we do the all-you-can-eat meat? They have so many different choices; it’ll give you a chance to sample them all.”

  My stomach growled, but thankfully the music was loud enough it drowned out the sound.

  “I’m game,” I said, excited by the whole date so far. He’d brought me to a new place, and not just any run-of-the-mill chain that seemed to be at every street corner. Not to mention, my company was pretty incredible.

  Our waiter arrived, and we both ordered beers. I wasn’t a big alcohol drinker—not counting when Tatum brought over wine with dinner—but beer and barbeque seemed like a good combination. Malkolm said we’d do the all-you-can-eat barbeque, as well as the sides sampler and the dessert tray.

  I was impressed he thought I could handle all that food, but
I was hungry enough that I was going to try a little bit of everything.

  When we were left alone, the look he had on me made me feel as if he was touching me. His stare was that intense.

  “So. What do you think about this place?” He had to lean forward and speak loudly in order to be heard over the country music.

  I looked around at the people seated at the tables and booths and glanced at the stage that featured a live band—where I just realized the country music came from. Peanut shells littered the ground, and every once in a while, you’d hear them cracking under the heels of people passing by.

  “It’s loud. The scents are a combination of sweet yet savory.” I kept looking around at the neon signs on the walls. “It’s also so colorful it almost hurts your eyes.” I looked back at Malkolm, and he watched me intently.

  Is he holding his breath?

  “I really like this place,” I said honestly, smiling.

  He exhaled, as if waiting for my reply before he let himself feel relieved. His grin told me my response pleased him. I didn’t know why I felt a thrill move through me at that realization.

  Our drinks came first, and I took a long pull of the icy cold beer. The flavor was sweet and refreshing, and I took that time to just lean back in my seat and enjoy the atmosphere. It was chaos, but for some reason, things seemed to move slower.

  I finished off my beer, and the waiter was on top of things, bringing me another and doing the same for Malkolm. And because I was a lightweight, that first beer was already making me feel warm from the inside out.

  The efficiency of everything was startling, and before I knew it, a massive wooden tray was delivered to our table with so much delicious-smelling meat my mouth watered. Then there was the smaller, but just as delectable, sampler tray with the sides. I knew I was staring at it with wide, saucer-sized eyes.

  “That's… a feast,” I breathed and heard his deep chuckle. I snapped my eyes up to meet his and saw he was grinning, the corners of his eyes slightly crinkled as he watched me.

  “It’s worth the upset stomach we’re sure to have.”

  Oh, I had no doubt.

  “But first,” he said and lifted up the plastic bib.

  I started laughing as I did the same, unfolded it, then proceeded to put it on and tie it around my neck. I looked ridiculous, no doubt, but Malkolm and I were both grinning ear-to-ear, so I didn’t even care.

  I couldn’t have even named all the different types of meats on the tray. But it all smelled and looked delicious, and Malkolm and I just dug in. I wasn't sure how long we tore into the ribs, but I was amazed—and impressed—with the amount of barbeque Malkolm could put down. In fact, the waiter came by and refilled a few of the meats that were a bigger hit than the rest, and Malkolm took those to the face like a champ.

  When I was finished and didn’t think I could eat another bite, I took my bib off, grabbed a wet wipe from the waiter, Trevor, had left, and wiped off my mouth and hands. And then Trevor came back, took away the wooden barbeque tray that looked like a massacre had transpired on it, and replaced it with the desert sampler.

  “There’s always room for dessert,” he said as if he read my mind that I was going to burst from being so full.

  I couldn't help but grin though. “Truer words have never been spoken.”

  And then we attacked that as well, with nice, easy conversation, pretty awesome surroundings, and company that couldn't be beat.

  It had to have been another half hour before we were finally throwing in the towel and Trevor was clearing the table. He left us with a few mints and told us to take our time as he left the bill.

  Malkolm and I both grabbed a mint, popped them in, and then the conversation turned light, with Malkolm saying funny little jokes, ones that were meant to ease the conversation so it wasn’t serious. And I was grateful for that. My cheeks hurt from the constant smile I had on my face, and the sheer relaxation and comfort I felt around him seemed so… natural.

  I started talking about the relationship I had with Tatum, how our parents had never been supportive of us starting our own business, how they thought it was a waste and that we should finish college and get “real jobs.” I confided in him and was honest about not really having a relationship with my folks anymore because of their lack of support. I told him how close Tatum and I were, how I was an introvert, had really no friends, but how in life I was more than content.

  I probably told him more than I should have on a first date, but a part of me wanted to just bare my soul and let Malkolm know who I was and what he was getting into.

  I was falling further into this feeling that sometimes you meet a person and they were always meant to be in your life. I looked at Malkolm and was surer than ever that he was meant to be in my life, that all the waiting and longing, all the struggles and loneliness I felt, had all been leading up to this moment where our paths crossed.

  I’m sure some people would call me crazy, delusional even, but if something felt this good, it had to be right… right? If being with someone claimed me so much, put me at such ease and where I felt like I’d finally found someone who I was supposed to be linked to, then I’d be an idiot to cast it aside.

  I don’t want to ignore this.

  “You ready?” he asked, and I smiled in what I knew was this satisfied way.

  I nodded, and after the waiter came back, the bill was paid, and Malkolm helped me out of my seat like a gentleman, we headed back outside.

  Despite it being February, tonight was unseasonably warm, with the snow almost all melted, and the only thing remaining was that of the dark, dirty slush that had been pushed to the curbs from the cars.

  There was that awkward “what happens next” silence as we stood there staring at each other.

  “I had a really great time, Malkolm.”

  He took a step toward me, and even though people poured in and out of the front entrance, music coming and going as the door opened and closed, I found myself wishing I had the courage to press my body to his. To touch his chest and see if it was as hard as it looked underneath his shirt. I wanted to rise up on my toes and kiss him, that image slamming into my head until the arousal that was a constant simmer in me started to boil over.

  He was silent as he stared at me, but I felt the heat pouring off him. I felt his desire for me. I wondered if he could feel mine too.

  “I don’t mean to overstep bounds,” he murmured softly.

  “Yes?” I prompted, and even I heard the anxiousness in my voice, as if I couldn't wait to see what he said, as if I couldn’t help but let him know in my tone and in my body language that I was so ready for what he wanted.

  I saw his nostrils flare, his jaw clench, and then he said, “I don’t want this night to end,” he said in a husky, sex-laced voice.

  My heart thundered. I knew I should take things slow. But I don’t want to.

  I want Malkolm. I want him to be my first. I want him to give me the experience I’ve been waiting for my entire life.

  I wanted to feel Malkolm, to see if he was just as potent and powerful in the bedroom as he was at every other turn, every single encounter we shared.

  Arousal was a steady constant in me. It was every time he was near. I was horribly inexperienced, but for the first time in my life, I wanted to throw caution to the wind and really explore these feelings. And by explore, I meant to see what it was like—what it felt like—to have a man like Malkolm take control and show me what I have been missing all these years.

  This was all so new to me, but I was excited to see how this progressed… especially at the end of the night.

  I said nothing as I took a step toward him, as I felt our body heat slamming together, mingling, bouncing between each other. Everything in me came to life, and even if a little voice in my head said I should say goodnight and how I was looking forward to our next date, I shoved that voice to the back of my mind.

  This is the moment I’ve fantasized about, dreamed about, when I thought of my
first time.

  Chemistry.

  Arousal.

  All-consuming need.

  “I don’t want it to end either, Malkolm.” I swallowed, licked my lips, and internally told myself to just say the words. “Let’s not let this night end just yet.”

  6

  Flora

  This is crazy. Insane.

  Oh my God, am I really doing this?

  Not only did I have every intention of doing totally important, consensual adult things with Malkolm; I planned on doing those things tonight.

  I followed him home and currently followed a few steps behind him as he made his way toward his front door. He kept glancing back at me, and a part of me wondered if it was because he thought I’d have second thoughts and bolt.

  Yeah, not going to happen.

  The entire ride from Porky’s to his place, I felt my arousal grow and grow… and grow even more, even stronger. My panties were soaked, my nipples so hard they ached as they rubbed against my bra, and my hands shook, because so much adrenaline was moving through my bloodstream.

  “Malkolm,” I said slowly, my voice pitched low, my throat scratchy.

  We entered his place just a few moments ago, and I’d taken a moment to look around.

  Sparse details, dark color scheme. Smelled like him—potent and masculine and enough to make me nearly moan.

  I didn’t know why I said his name—maybe a subconscious plea that I was dying over here, that I wanted more than I could probably handle. Or maybe it was a question, his name falling from my lips for him to take control.

  Maybe it’s all of those things.

  “Flora,” he groaned, his voice sounding just as… desperate as mine.

  I watched as his breathing changed, watched as the adrenaline hit differently—for the both of us. His shoulders moved up and down, the heat positively roaring from him and slamming into me.

  And then he was striding toward me, his focus intent, the desire on his face almost savage in its appearance. He looked rough, almost unhinged in his passion, and it was all for me. I wanted to feel more of that unhinged desire. I wanted that roughness I saw hinted from him, the bad boy persona I craved, to coat me like a second skin.