“Fuck that feels good.” My client sighed.
They all sigh at the end. “Get up and take a look.”
He stood and winced as he stretched his arm. He’d been in my chair for the last hour—being stiff was a given.
“If you need to take a picture, do it now before I wrap it up.” The man nodded and admired his arm with a smile on his face. The curiosity was killing me. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why this one?”
“She’s become a Catholic recently . . . devout Catholic.”
“Ahh, okay. So this will make up for the half naked pin-up on your back and pentagram on your ribcage?”
“Nope, but I hope she won’t complain as much.”
“Hopefully?” I laughed.
“Hopefully,” he deadpanned.
After coating the new tattoo with ointment, and bandaging with saran wrap, I walked him out toward the front. We were discussing the added work he wanted around his back piece when Maya’s giggle made me pause.
“Give me a sec, man. It seems something needs my full attention.”
“No worries, Talan. I’ll wait…”
I didn’t wait for him to finish and walked around the counter. Martin, one of my usual clients, was hitting her up. He leaned on the counter, elbows on the marble top, while he smirked down at her.
I saw red. What the fuck?
“What are you doing after work?” he questioned Bitty. “Maybe I could take you out for a late dinner?”
“Um,” she nervously replied, “not sure.” Maya hadn’t noticed my presence behind her, but Martin had.
“Hey man,” Martin greeted me. “When did you get this beauty to join the team? Were you holding out on me?”
My jaw locked and my hands started to shake as rage coursed through my veins. Jealousy was a bitter pill to swallow. Maya was mine.
“Maya, take care of—” I began, only to be interrupted by the smirking douche in front of me.
“Hold up, man. She’s—”
“Martin, back the fuck off.” I growled low. “She’s not available.”
“You hitting that?”
I’d grabbed onto the counter, ready to launch myself over and fuck him up, when Maya grabbed my arm.
“Stop,” she whispered. Maya turned to him, giving him a smile. Anger burned through my veins. “Listen, Martin was it?” He smiled at her and nodded. “I’ve been trying to be nice, but I think you’re taking my being friendly the wrong way. I’m not a piece of ass. If I’d wanted to accept your invitation, I would have thirty minutes ago, when you asked me the first time. Or the three times that followed.”
“Don’t be like that, babe. He won’t fire you for seeing a customer. Right, Talan?”
Motherfucker thought I would help him?
“Martin, she’s off limits to you and everyone else that walks through my door. Don’t fuck with my girl.”
“My bad, bro. I’ll leave the little lady alone.” Martin held his hands up as he backed away from where I stood. Maya hadn’t said a word to dismiss my claim, so the fucker took my silent threat serious. “She should’ve said so earlier and I wouldn’t have pushed.”
“Out.”
Martin left without any more fanfare, and for that I was grateful. I already had one amused client looking at me like I was crazy. Beating Martin’s ass would’ve cemented that idea.
“Since when do you date?” he asked while he swiped his card for payment.
“Since she walked through my door,” was all I said; then walked him out. Maya stayed glued to her spot on the floor, her eyes staring at me with confusion. “Don’t start, Maya. We already agreed, and you are my girl. You want the whole dating / doting / spending time together deal, to make it feel real? Done. But I was serious when I said we saw no one but each other.”
“What the fuck?” she snapped, arms crossed over her chest as she stared me down. “You make it sound like I’m forcing you. If you don’t want anything serious with me, say it. Don’t play the angry lover card when we’ve had nothing but two hot make-out sessions under our belts.”
“Why are you so angry? I’m the one that walked in on him hitting on you.” I stood before her and pulled her arms down so I could wrap mine around her.
“Talan, you want me, but make no move. I don’t like being toyed with,” Bitty mumbled and tried to pull away, but I held on tighter.
“It’s not that . . . I’m just not the relationship type. I’m trying, Maya, but—”
“To be honest, this feels like being on a ‘friends with benefits’ status, but with no benefits. That’s not how I roll, despite how easy I fall into your arms. I’m an all or nothing kind of girl, Talan.”
“Maya, come on . . . it’s not like that, and you know it.”
“I’m going home. Let me know what you want to do next time I see you.” Maya pulled herself free and began to collect her things.
I stood transfixed on my spot. How the fuck had things gone from good to sour in less than a few hours?
“What about dinner?” I hedged, trying to salvage the night.
“I’ll see you next week,” Bitty whispered sadly, and then walked out the door without looking back.
7
The past month had been anything but simple for me, or my cock.
Every day she came in looking like a beautiful sin. It was all in the simple clothing she wore, leaving a small bit of her flesh always on display. A little bit of leg, a peek at her spectacular tits . . . her belly button coming out and saying “peek-a-fucking-boo”.
It was torture of the sweetest kind, and the reason why I spent my days hard and frustrated.
Lately, the idea of marking her had become an obsession. Every time I painted a customer’s body, all I could see was Maya’s skin; slightly tanned and smooth, blemish free and perfect.
“Morning, Talan,” Bitty greeted, coming around the counter. Maya had been a little reserved with me since our argument. No more “boss man” jokes.
“Hey, Bitty . . . you’re a bit early.”
“I wanted to talk to you before the others arrived,” she stated, her seriousness unnerving me.
“Okay.” I groaned. Good news never started off with those words. “Shoot.”
Maya placed her things aside, grabbed a nearby stool, and then sat in front of me. Close, she sat so fucking close to me that our knees touched. Sexy knees that I wanted to lick while I made my way up to her slit.
“I’m tired of this,” she waived her hand between us, “it’s uncomfortable.” That had my attention.
“Maya—”
“Let me finish,” she interrupted, and I nodded. “I hate feeling awkward around you. There is so much tension between us. Either,” she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, “we fuck or date. At this point, I’ll take whatever I can.”
“Babes.” I shook my head. “What brought this on?”
“Before our blowup we were cool. We all hung out, joked, and flirted. Now, it’s just frustrating and a lot of walking on eggshells.”
“Maya, you will never be a quick fuck to me.” My hand rose and caressed her cheek—so soft and warm. “I like you . . . you like me, let’s not push for faster and just enjoy what’s in front of us.”
“So let me get this straight. What you want is no commitment?” Maya spit out.
“You just insinuated we fuck and get it over with!”
“To see what you would say. Damn it.” Her hand slammed down on the counter. “If what you’re looking for is an easy piece of ass to enjoy when you’re in need, it’s not me.” Now, that shit pissed me off.
“Have I ever treated you like a—”
“Watch what comes out of your mouth. The wrong choice will fuck you up.”
“Bitty,” I growled out, “have I ever made you feel like anything but what you are?”
“And what’s that, Talan?” she snapped.
“Special.” Her face softened, and a tiny smile formed on her lips.
“You mean that?”
“Yes, you annoyingly stubborn woman, I do. Now, let’s get to work so we can get out of here early. We have plans.” I smiled back. This tiny, frustrating, crazy woman had me wrapped around her fucking finger and I feared the day she realized it.
“Bitty!” I yelled out hours later, “Can you come back here for a minute?”
What was supposed to be a slow day had turned into a nightmare. It was the Friday before Memorial Day and the beach area was packed. Everywhere you turned there was someone wasted, but still holding strong, and they all were looking for a memento of their blitzed holiday.
Maya came in looking frustrated. “What’s up?”
“I know I said we had plans, but can we just order something to be delivered instead? I’m beat, babe . . . promise to make it worth your while, though,” I bargained.
Her beautiful eyes turned to slits, and then her head tilted to the side as she watched me. Little thing was sexy as fuck no matter what she did.
“What’s in it for me?” Maya asked.
“You get to see my fantasy tatt.” My answer just left her with a puzzled look. “Do you remember when we first met?” She nodded. “You asked me a series of questions . . .”
“I asked you what and who your fantasy tattoo would be.”
“And until you asked me, I’d never had one. But I do now.” A smile lit up her face. “No one has seen what I’m working on for this special person. I want you to be the first.”
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack. Now, go order some Moroccan food from that place on Collins and put the closed sign on the window,” I ordered with a smirk on my face.
“What about the boys?” Maya inquired. “I haven’t heard from them in a while.”
“Simon had plans with Esther and Lance is—”
“With that chick he’s been after for months,” she finished for me and I couldn’t help but laugh. We’d officially become one of those nauseating couples that finished each other’s sentences.
We aren’t a couple yet, but does she think we are? Do I want us to be? I mean, sure I like her . . . feel something for her, but—
“Hey, you okay?” Maya’s question brought me out of my head and back to the present.
“I’m fine,” I croaked, and she raised a brow in question. “Just thought of something is all.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“But—”
“Why don’t you go place that order and I’ll clean up back here?” I urged.
Bitty stared at me, her weight shifting as she bit her lip. “You sure you’re okay, Talan? If you’re tired, we can leave this for another night. No hurry on my behalf.”
And now, I felt like shit. Bitty hadn’t pushed me for more than a simple date and some time alone. Why the fuck was this freaking me out when I wanted the same?
“Nah, I’m good. All I need is you, a beer, and food. In that order.”
Maya smiled and came closer, stopping once she stood between my legs. She leaned forward, ran her fingers through my hair, and then pulled my face up toward hers.
“You’re full of shit, Talan,” she whispered against my lips. “I don’t want us running off to get married anytime soon or even a ring. All I want is to get to know you outside these walls. See the man beneath the Polynesian and Mayan ink.”
“How’d you figure out what they were?” Everyone who saw my tattoos, while impressed, were always lost as to where they were from and what they stood for. The difference between the two styles of tribal markings left people confused by the similarities in their designs.
“Easy.” Her finger ran over the large piece over my shoulder. “The Polynesians, like the Mayans, rely on bold, block like pieces to build the tattoo. It’s like looking at a map; every piece has a purpose and the picture, as a whole, a meaning.”
“Keep going,” I urged, impressed by her knowledge of these cultures. My left hand ran up and down her calf. With each pass I went higher than the last, not stopping until I reached the curve between her cheek and thigh.
I squeezed, causing her words to falter.
“The t-turtle o-over,” she stammered, “your shoulder is meant to symbolize longevity, to bless you and give you long life.” Another squeeze, hand splayed out, fanning more of her perfect bottom. Her hand swatted at mine. “You’re distracting me,” Maya complained.
“I’ve seen you multitask,” I replied and laid my head on her stomach. Turning my face into her flat abdomen, I inhaled her scent and moaned. Maya smelled divine.
“The Mayan god on your forearm is Chaac?” she asked while pulling me back by my hair. “Quit distracting me and answer. Please?”
Why the fuck was she blocking me?
“Correct,” I grumbled before continuing, “Mayan god of rain and lightning. He was worshipped.”
Maya took a step back and immediately I missed her warmth. She pulled my arm up and out, admiring the kneeling god. “I had a friend that was obsessed with their civilization,” she added, continuing to admire my work.
“This one was one idolized for his wisdom and dominance over the one substance the Mayan’s couldn’t live without: water. No water equaled no food for them.”
“So why them?” she questioned.
“The Polynesian culture, as a whole, has always fascinated me. My great grandmother on my father’s side was Samoan. One of my father’s first experiences as a youngster with tattooing was witnessing a ceremonial tatt. They used nothing more than the husk of a boar as the needle, attaching it to a turtle shell and wooden handle.”
Maya’s eyes grew wide while I spoke. “That sounds painful,” she shuddered.
“It is,” I admitted, “but beautiful. I got the tattoo because, like you pointed out, its meaning is tied to my heritage. Also because this lifestyle…this culture, is a part of me.”
Maya surprised me then. Without letting go of my arm, she leaned forward and kissed the turtle on my arm.
A low moan escaped me at the tender touch.
“What about the Mayan god?” Bitty’s inquisitive eyes watched me.
“The Mayans were an extraordinary civilization way ahead of their times. They intrigued me,” I explained. “They worshipped, sacrificed, and fought for their gods. This god in particular being one of their main deities . . . he controlled their water. And like I said, no water . . . no food.”
“So, if I’m translating this correctly, the customers are your water?” Maya asked.
“You’re a smart little thing.” She blushed prettily. “No customers to adorn, no money to sustain me and those I employ.”
“You know,” she began, “I like the fact that there’s a purpose to these markings. That you didn’t get them just ‘cause.’ Makes them hotter,” Her finger ran over the Chaac on my forearm. It was my turn to shudder.
“Want to know what would be hot in my opinion?” I taunted.
“What?”
I flexed my arm and she bit her lip. “If you’d let me mark you.”
“You want to mark me?” Bitty blinked at me.
My hand captured hers and pulled her closer. Before she could protest, I grabbed a thigh and pulled her over me. Maya straddled my thighs, almost above my hard cock.
Fuck, she felt good above me.
“I want my mark all over you, but for now, I would settle for a small piece of your flesh to leave my stamp on. A piece of me that lets the world know you belong to me.” A groan escaped my lips when she pushed herself closer to me.
Chest to chest. Dick to pussy.
“But, what if I’m afraid of needles?”
“I’ll be gentle.” My hand left her thigh and traveled up until I reached her wide hips. I let my fingers dig in a bit. “Plus,” I taunted further, “I know you’re not afraid.” With my help she swiveled her hips, making us both groan. “You told me so yourself. While Esther laid in my chair on that first encounter; you admitted to always wanting one.”
“I do want one,” she whimpered.
“Let me be your first?”
Her hips stilled, much to my disappointment. “You just want to pop my tatt cherry,” she said while doing a piss poor job of hiding her smile.
“First and last to ever mark any surface you offer,” was my reply, and then I kissed her gently, just a few small pecks over her plump lips. “So, will you let me?”
“I don’t know. It’s a lifetime commitment to walk around with that modification.” She tilted her head to the side. “What do you have in mind?”
“You’re going to love it,” I said then bit her lip one last time before standing her up so I could reach my portfolio.
“Wait a minute?” she gasped, making me pause with the portfolio half open. “You already designed it?”
“What the hell did I tell you? I was showing you my fan—” It took her a second, but she remembered our first conversation.
“I’m your fantasy tattoo?” Bitty blurted out before I could finish.
Did she not understand how much I wanted her?
“Yes,” was all that passed my lips before hers attacked mine with fervor. “Is that a yes, then?” I laughed when we pulled apart for air.
“It’s a maybe.” I frowned not liking that answer. After her display of approval, I had been sure it was a done deal. “Quit pouting, babes. Be a good boy and I’ll let you put this masterpiece on me.”
“What does being a good boy entail?”
“Convince me that I mean more. That I am worthy of this.” Maya pointed to the drawing lying on the table beside me.
“Done.” We began kissing softly, enjoying the others’ unique taste. There was a sudden bang on the front door that caused us to pull apart, much to both our disappointment.
“Guess the food is here,” Bitty announced and turned toward the door, pulling me with her.
“Then let’s go enjoy our first meal together in private and maybe after we can discuss placement?” I ran the tip of my fingers from her shoulder to her hip bones and squeezed. “I have a few places in mind.”
“I’m sure you do, perv.” Bitty giggled, “But first, feed me.” My dirty mind was on autopilot when the next words escaped me. This woman disarmed me with so much ease it was scary.
Craving Sugar Page 27