Tegan: Exotic Ink Series (Book Two)

by LS Anders

  She had nearly fallen off the edge of the dryer when the room shattered around her, splintering into a million tiny pieces. Her hips were still rocking in time with his questing finger when she opened her eyes to find him looking down into her flushed face, the barest hint of a smile had played across his sculpted mouth.

  She had been so incredibly sensitive after cuming, the feel of him touching her most intimate flesh made her brazen in her need for him. “Tegan, please,” she had whimpered, her eyes pleading with him to continue, desperately wanting more. She would have taken anything he would have given her just so long as the immense pleasure not come to an end.

  His eyes had taken on a sheen of their own. Leaning towards her, he had rested his forehead against hers, forcing her back to arch while keeping her hips taut. She had placed her palms behind her and leaned back to give him better access to her needy center.

  Her butt had barely been on the lip of the dryer, leaving her soaking wet slit to clear the edge, completely exposed to him. He had wasted no time taking full advantage. He had withdrawn, then slowly slid two thick fingers inside her soaking wet heat, so deep that he had touched the tip of her cervix. Going slowly at first before pumping into her faster, his predatory stare never wavered. She had known this would be exactly what he would have been doing with his dick, and she had wanted him inside her more than anything in her damn life.

  Suddenly, three of his immense fingers had been thrust inside, stretching her. Quickening his pace, he had fucked her hard with his hand. The feeling of fullness had been so incredible that she had cum without him ever touching her clit, marking the first vaginal orgasm she had ever had. It was so different, so much deeper and more fulfilling than any other orgasm before. She had thought the G-spot was a myth, but he had made her a believer.

  The knock on the storage room door had startled them both back to earth shattering reality. For the love… they had been in the storage room in the studio, and their boss had knocked on the freaking door.

  “Is everything alright in there?” Evana had asked through the wood slab.

  “Sorry, E. We had to move a few boxes around. What we were looking for was buried deep,” he had said almost grinning, thrusting a few more times before he pulled his fingers free of her.

  “Oh, that’s ok. I thought I heard a scream.”

  “Rayna thought she saw a mouse,” he had responded quickly as she was too mortified to answer.

  “No shit? I’m going to go call the exterminator…” Evana’s voice trailed off as she believed the lie.

  Rayna gasped, disbelieving when he had looked her dead in the eye and slipped one finger after another inside his mouth cleaning off her response to him. He had even licked the palm of his hand.

  Feeling over exposed, she had hopped down off the dryer onto legs that wobbled, pulling the hem of her dress down as far as it would go. She had felt her ruined panties gaping between her legs, the elastic hanging loose from being overly stretched against her thighs that were soaking wet and cooling fast. Her vagina had still been pulsing with every beat of her heart, and she could still feel his fingers buried inside.

  She had wished with all her heart that he would bend her over that dryer and finish making her his. But, sadly he hadn’t. Instead, he had reached inside the dryer and pulled out a warm towel. It had been one she recognized as Callie’s spa towels she had specially made for her clients.

  He had surprised her again when he leaned down close to her lips to run the tip of his tongue along the seam of her mouth, reaching between her thighs with the cloth, he had gently wiped away her orgasms. His touch had only made her wetter, and the material had just fueled her desire with the friction it had created.

  He had pulled away suddenly, giving her a satisfied look before he had left her alone in the storage room...

  Squirming around in her seat to stave off a spear of lust, she refocused on her work. Elisa was beginning to squirm as well, but it sure as shit wasn’t from any lust filled memory but from the needle on Rayna’s tattoo gun hitting against that sensitive area on the top of her foot.

  That had been the most erotically confusing moment of her life. She couldn’t help but wonder if he had been playing a game with her, maybe wondering how far she would let him go. For all intents and purposes, she had let him fuck her in that storage room, maybe not with this dick, but what they had done definitely qualified as fucking.

  That had been months ago. Neither one of them had spoken of it, nor was it ever repeated, but she had caught him looking at her in that same lust filled, all-consuming way and had been caught doing the same to him, but neither one had broached the incident with the other.

  Once, she had let him walk her home after a night out with their co-workers from the studio. She was secretly hoping for a repeat of that storage room action when they’d reached her apartment. Unfortunately, she’d been in a fragile mood and had brought up the subject of her late husband and the difficult time his parents were putting her through. Tegan had proven to be such a good listener, his brow creasing with such concern, that she’d ended up conveying most of the story and blubbering all over him, crying her heart out until she’d fallen asleep on his muscular chest. He’d stayed overnight with her and everyone thought it was some sexual encounter when he was doing nothing more than comforting her and had fallen asleep with her on the sofa.

  So romantic, Rayna, she thought rolling her eyes.

  He probably wasn’t interested in her now that she’d unleashed her crazy on him. On a lighter note, she had gotten a feel of his amazing physique, and the man was rock solid. Even in her moment of upset, she had clung to his muscular body unable to deny her attraction to him.

  At the moment, both their lives were complicated, and she hoped that was the reason for their stunted romance. Her own issues were threatening to suffocate the life out of her. From the tidbits she’d gathered from shop gossip, he was legally separated from his wife, one that had been left behind in Boston. The girl had some sort of personal problems, and he couldn’t seem to track her down for one reason or another, but Rayna hadn’t been privy to his entire story.

  Tegan had planned on heading home after work to douse his troubles with anything high in alcohol content, but he knew Vehn didn’t have many opportunities to hang out in public with friends without being completely molested by fangirls. Funny how the guy was now engaged to marry the reigning queen of them all. Originally, Tegan had cautioned him about Callie and her excessive fangirling over his supermodel celebrity, however, they’d met in a peculiar way and she had fallen for him before she had even realized who he was…, but that love story has already been told.

  Pfft, it was nothing for Tegan to pull off acting pissy over Callie telling him he had to go to dinner with the group after work. Sporting a scowl on his mug was much the same as a business man wearing a suit to work, it was simply part of his wardrobe.

  Absolutely, he was looking forward to spending more time in Rayna’s presence and planned to sit next to her at dinner tonight, even if he had to bully someone out of his way. Maybe he would escort her home again, even though his common sense was hitting him over the head with a big fat, no.

  The one time he’d done so, he’d ended up staying the night, but it was nothing more than to offer comfort. She had opened up to him on the subway, telling him about her issues with her in-laws and had become so distraught over rehashing out events that had happened since her husband’s death, that he had been reluctant to leave her by herself.

  If he were being honest with himself, that hadn’t been the only reason. His selfish side hadn’t wanted to let her go. Once he’d gotten them settled on her couch, he’d rubbed her back in wide circles as she’d continued to sob into his chest. At some point, she’d fallen asleep and as she lay with her head resting in the crook of his neck, her breath brushing across his skin with every languid exhale, she’d felt way too perfect in his arms to let go.

  Selfishly savoring the moment, he had adjust
ed them in a more comfortable sleeping position, promising himself that this would be the only time he would hold her like that. She was off limits to him on so many levels.

  She hadn’t imparted every gory detail of her situation, but the gist of it was her late husband’s parents had given her hell over not being included in his will. Feeling slighted, they were attempting to contest her as sole beneficiary on all his policies, including the title to the apartment she was living in. Talk about ruthless vultures.

  Annnnnnnnd… he needed to add hypocrite to the long list of descriptions he had for himself. She had something he craved as well, and her too trusting and giving nature had allowed him to take full advantage of her naiveté. She was like Vehn in that regard, and he had just recently warned his friend about people that were just like himself. A true wolf in sheep’s clothing. Pfft, no wonder he was so good at spotting them. It’s always easier to recognize your own kind.

  The soft buzzing of Rayna’s tattoo gun filled the void between the few words she exchanged with her client. The woman could be muttering a bunch of jumbled up horse shit and it wouldn’t matter, that breathy voice of hers never failed to escalate his heart rate. She was the sweetest, most desirable woman he had ever met in his fucking life. Her wide-eyed, shyness turning him into a raving, lust filled lunatic.

  When he’d first met her months ago, he’d thought her flirty innocence was an act, but the longer he was around her, he’d discovered that was her true nature and the breathiness to her voice was how she always spoke.

  And, she was driving him fucking crazy!

  One day she had arrived to work with her naturally pale blonde hair piled high atop her head, exposing the elegant curves of her slender neck. She’d swept by him in the lobby wearing go-go boots and a 60’s era baby doll dress that fell a mere four inches below her sashaying rear-end. Pfft, he would have bet his vintage Harley she was wearing little white cotton panties underneath the motherfucker, too.

  Those big doe eyes of hers had smiled up at him as she’d passed, greeting him in her unique voice, before sweeping her long lashes down his front and devouring him with her eyes, all while maintaining that virginal look.

  He normally had astounding will-power in all things, could give or take cigarettes, no problem. Until that one particular day and Rayna had proven to be his Achilles heel. Once he’d gotten an eye full of her in that sexy little dress with the promise of white panties beneath, his self-control had instantly been laid to waste. All decisions to not get romantically involved with her disintegrated in the dove gray depths of her eyes, the remnants swept away with her mile-long eyelashes.

  Determined to have a taste of her, he’d followed her into the storage room and was momentarily stunned to find her just the way he wanted her… bent over with her sweet ass up in the air. And what do you know, peeking out just beneath the hem of her dress was a precious white triangle. The scant wedge of cotton had been the only thing between him and her intimate flesh, just begged to be chewed in half.

  She had been as surprised as he, whirling around at the sound of his voice but had recovered quickly gifting him with a lusty look that had sent a shot of intoxicating hormones directly into his brain, eradicating all higher reasoning.

  He’d meant to only kiss her, but those huge baby doll eyes of hers had been begging for more and he’d given it to her. Beginning slowly as to not scare her away, he’d been gentle with her at first, allowing her to become familiar with his touch, but her passionate response had floored him. Desperate to be buried inside her slippery heat, he’d used his fingers to stretch her tight slit to ready her for his thick shaft. She was so small that he knew she’d need to be primed before she could take his girth. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought she was a virgin, her slick tunnel incredibly snug around his probing fingers.

  He’d stopped kissing her, wanting to look into her eyes, wanting to see her usual innocence wiped away when she came undone for him. He’d worried he’d gotten too rough with her, but she’d pleaded for more, flooding his palm and he was more than ready to give her what she wanted. Only Evana had knocked on the door interrupting their sexually infused moment.

  Rayna had looked rather taken aback once the spell had been broken, and he was certain regret had played across her delicate features. Guilty. He was like a predator taking advantage of an innocent girl and her obvious infatuation with him. The big bad wolf had molested little red riding hood in the storage room at Exotic Ink Tattoo Studio that day.

  Neither one of them had spoken of the encounter, but her shy glances and guileless stares had turned hungry, and he wanted nothing more than to taste her sweetness again. Only not from his fingers but directly from the petal soft lips of her delectable sex.

  The battle he faced to stay away from her was a constant struggle with his will-power. A war within himself that he fought and nearly lost daily.

  Besides having the soul of a fathomless black pit, his life was currently undergoing a major catastrophe. Another relationship was the last thing he needed right now. Ridding himself of his wife, Tracy, was his first priority and he still had a couple more weeks to wait until his court date, in hopes that the judge would grant him a default divorce and unfreeze all his assets.

  Tracy had been arrested for possession of heroin a week before he’d moved to NYC and begun work at Exotic Ink. She’d been bailed out of jail and had disappeared with her dealer, so serving her with the divorce papers had been impossible. She was long gone by the time his lawyer, Samuel Knowles, had the papers drawn up and filed with the court. Tegan had taken the guys advice to wait until the following month when she was to appear in court for her arraignment to have her served with the divorce papers, but she never showed and because of that contempt of court, a warrant had been issued for her arrest.

  Now that she was in hiding, Tegan would need to show the court he had done his due diligence to locate her before they granted him a divorce. Another six months of hurry up and wait, and they were no closer to locating her than the police.

  Tegan had thought it would have been an easy, uncontested divorce, but once she’d pulled her disappearing act, it had turned out to be a complete cluster fuck. The house he had bought, his bank accounts, and 401K were considered marital property, having obtained all that during their marriage. Except for his current income from Exotic Ink, everything else had been frozen and he was stuck in a hellish limbo waiting for her to either show her face, get arrested, or for the court to grant him a divorce after he proved she was nowhere to be found.

  Cleaning up after his last client, he tossed his favorite tattoo gun into the drawer with a hard clunk escalating his irritation over his present situation.

  “Pfft, fucking fantastic.” Now he was going to have to check it and see if it was still good to go before he used it on another client.

  The whoosh of the HVAC stirred the air around him, and he knew what was coming next, dreading the painful squeeze. After that storage room make-out session, his cock had developed a keen sense of smell on a molecular level. One particle of Rayna’s intoxicating scent never failed to make him hard as a rock. An enchantress of the most innocent variety, and he was losing his mind with wanting another taste of her.

  Outside by Staind flowed out of the hidden speakers that were sprinkled throughout the studio, deflating his erection instantly. Normally, he enjoyed the selections that ranged from alternative rock to R&B. The volume was set for background noise and went mostly unnoticed, unless it was a favorite song or this bullshit that was currently playing. He liked Staind just fine, but this one tune reminded him of Tracy, and he could go his whole life without ever hearing it again.

  “Hey, you wanna go for a smoke?” Cale asked, rapping on his door frame.

  “Yeah, let’s go.” Tegan gently laid his tattoo gun down this time. Snatching up his cigarettes and lighter, he followed along behind Cale.

  Passing by Rayna’s, he willed his head to remain front and center, but his traitorous
eyes swiveled in her direction as he passed. Her tattoo gun was still humming, her back to the door as her blonde head was bent to her task. He needed to break this bad habit of tracking her every move before he lost his damn mind.

  “You comin’?” Cale paused at the next room down to collect Gabriel. Filing out one at a time through the back door in the breakroom, they landed in the courtyard behind the shop. “Thank fuck for you guys. It sucked being the only guy here and I never counted Brent, he was a complete waste of skin. There so needed to be some more testosterone to dilute the sea of estrogen up in this bitch.”

  Cale wasted no time lighting up, drawing the stress relieving smoke deep into his lungs. He was a handful of days away from tying the knot with Avie, and he was looking as if his clock had been wound too tight, his internal spring ready to pop free.

  “Everything ok with you and Avie?” Tegan asked.

  He liked them both, but in his opinion, they were way too young to be marrying. Although his youthful marriage had been precipitated by an accidental pregnancy, he knew Cale and Avie were marrying because they loved each other, but still, youth and lack of life experience were stacked against them.

  “Fuck yeah. Why do you ask?” Cale tilted his head to the side and slightly back as if he were trying to look down at Tegan, which was impossible since Tegan towered over him at six-feet-five, but he didn’t take offense to the guy’s insolent behavior, it was just his way. The punk kid had smart-ass written all over his lanky five-foot-ten frame, from his jaw length dirty blonde head to his vintage Converse, so naturally, Tegan had taken an instant liking to him.

  “Because, you look like you’re about to shit yourself,” Gabriel blurted out.

  Tegan could only shake his head. Tact was obviously not Gabriel’s forte. He was the newest addition to the Exotic Ink family and didn’t have a lot to say, but when words did erupt from his cake hole, they were completely unfiltered, which was why he had already won a place in their makeshift family.