“It’s feeling better already. It seems you’re all it needs.”
“You can put your shirt back on now.” It kills me to say that.
“If you’re sure,” he says, smirking.
I shrug, trying to seem like I don’t care. Gabe slips his hands to the armholes and pulls the shirt over his head, shoulders and washboard abs. I watch, mesmerized. When the last speck of his chest is covered, I sigh.
He plays along as I show him a few stretches but it’s obvious he’s never going to do them.
“Same time next week?” he asks.
Good question, I think. I busy myself making notes in his file while I contemplate the question.
“Unless you want to have dinner before that,” he says, with a coy smile on his face.
Even though I’ve been bracing for it since his arrival, the question stops my heart.
“Not going to happen,” I say, shaking my head and chewing on the end of my pen.
“It’s going to happen, it’s just a question of when. How long do you want to torture yourself before you give in and let me blow your mind?”
I swallow hard, unable to say a thing and hating the fact that I’m so red I’m glowing.
Gabe steps close to me, puts his mouth to my ear and says, “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be waiting for you.”
My knees threaten to buckle, and I fight to keep from it being noticeable. Gabe pulls back from me and moves to the door.
As he crosses the threshold, I say, “You might be waiting a long time.”
Without breaking stride, he turns his head and says, “Worth it,” before vanishing from my view.
Eloise
“Two more margaritas coming up,” the waitress says, tapping the table with her fingers.
Good. Maybe after another drink I’ll be able to tell Sophie everything I need to get off my chest. I thought two would be enough, but evidently I need a third.
It’s Saturday, and I haven’t been able to get Gabe out of my head since the physio session. Neither has Marcy. All day yesterday I had to listen to her talk about him.
Today was even worse. Being home alone in my apartment meant my brain spent every single second of the day thinking about him.
I broke down and called Sophie just after lunch. I told her I needed to talk about the panties I’d left in the tattoo parlor, but that there was no way I could do it sober.
Thankfully she came up with the plan of sending our parents to dinner and a movie. Sophie made a big deal about it, saying they deserved a date night because they never go out, and that it would be our treat.
At first, Mom protested, saying she’d miss us and that we all should go but Sophie put her foot down and demanded they go and promised we’d both be there for lunch tomorrow.
“Start spilling,” Sophie says, licking the rim of her empty margarita glass.
I try to work out where to begin. My eyes search the bottom of my glass for answers. I lift the glass up and toss my head back, coaxing the last drop out of it.
Plunking the glass back on the table, I say, “The tattoo guy showed up for a physio session, and brought back my panties.”
“No fucking way,” Sophie says, her mouth hanging open. Alcohol turns her into a potty-mouthed sailor.
Our waitress arrives at the table carrying two fresh drinks. She sets them on the table in front of us, and says, “Here you go, enjoy.”
I lift mine and take a massive gulp, trying to find the courage I need.
“Turns out he’s got a stiff shoulder,” I say.
Sophie’s eyes pop open, and she says, “You actually treated him?”
“I did. I had my hands all over his muscles.”
“So he’s hot?”
“Marcy hasn’t stopped talking about him. It’s annoying the hell out of me.”
“What does he look like? Tell me what he looks like!”
“He’s got brown hair and brown eyes,” I say, smirking.
“And is muscular.”
“Yep.”
“That’s it?”
“Pretty much.”
“Fuck off. Give me the details. Maybe I can call Marcy, invite her here now. She never goes out. I’m sure she’d love to come tell me all about him.”
I take another gulp of my drink. And this is the easy part, I haven’t gotten to the juicy bits yet. The waitress walks past our table and I flick my hand out.
“Two more, please,” I tell her.
She laughs, and says, “No problem. Here’s to a good night.”
“You need to be that drunk to tell me what he looks like?”
“He’s tall and built like a Greek god with the intense stare to match. His chest, arms, hands and back are covered in tattoos. And both his nipples are pierced.”
“Oh my God, Marcy must’ve shit herself.”
“Yeah, she told Mom and Dad that we have a scary new patient. She even said he might be a criminal.”
Sophie throws herself back against her chair and cackles. “She’s such a tit.”
“I had to step in and defend him, explaining he’s a tattoo artist. At which point Marcy fell against the wall, fanning herself.”
“What did Mom and Dad say?”
“They gave her their sternest look of disapproval and said they hoped she behaved professionally around him.”
Sophie sits up straight again, still laughing. She’s never liked Marcy and always loves hearing stories about her. “And did they tell you to be professional with him?”
“No, why would they?”
“Because he had your panties. Obviously you’ve got something unprofessional going on with him.”
Holding my head high, I say, “I am always professional.”
“Then why did he have your panties? And why the hell were you at a tattoo parlor anyway?”
I down the rest of my drink, still not sure how to say what I need to say.
“Tell me,” she barks, “these drinks are on me if you spill it.”
“You can’t afford these overpriced cocktails.”
“Oh, but I can,” she says, grinning from ear to ear.
I’ve never understood how a med student always has so much cash. She’d better not be sucking money from Mom and Dad.
“How?”
“Since it will make you feel better, I’ll tell you my panties story now. But you can’t think less of me,” she says, pointing at me.
“Don’t worry, I already think very lowly of you.”
“You want to know how I get all my extra money?”
“Yes, it’s always been a mystery to me.”
“Every night, I sell the panties I wore that day in an online auction. Now I have this big following, and guys pay a fortune for them. It’s hysterical.”
“And creepy.” What is she thinking? It’s so gross. Mom and Dad would freak if they knew.
“I know, they’re real pervs. But it keeps me in the lifestyle I have become accustomed to.”
I roll my eyes, and it makes me feel dizzy from the booze. “You’re nuts.”
She raises an eyebrow, and says, “Yeah, your turn.”
“Fine. I went to the tattoo parlor to get a genital piercing,” I blurt.
Sophie chokes on her drink and has a coughing fit. I wait patiently for her to compose herself, still wondering why she sells her panties. The waitress rushes over with a glass of water, and Sophie calms herself enough to take a drink.
“You got a genital piercing?” she asks, her voice raspy.
“No,” I shake my head. “I was going to, but he, Gabe, didn’t want to give me one.”
“Why?”
I hold my drink up in front of me, and lick some of the salt from the rim. Hiding behind it, I say, “I wanted the piercing so I could have an orgasm, but he says he can give me one without the piercing. So now I don’t know what to do.” I take two big gulps of the drink.
Sophie says nothing while I drink. She stares at me, her eyes in disbelief. Setting the drink back on the
table, she still says nothing, so I take another sip.
“What you do mean, Eloise? Are you saying you’ve never had an orgasm?”
I nod.
“Okay. I mean, I tell you this as a medical student. Studies have shown men are selfish shits in bed. Did you know that most lesbians have orgasms every time they have sex, but straight women don’t? What does that tell you?”
“Are you saying I should sleep with a woman?”
“No. Unless you want to,” Sophie shrugs. “What I’m saying is you need a man who isn’t a selfish little shit.”
“So you think I should let Gabe try?”
“Well, if he can do what he says he can, you sure as hell won’t regret it. Because let me tell you, you’re really missing out.” Sophie points her finger at me with each word.
“I’ve never had meaningless sex before.”
“No time like the present to start.”
Sometimes I wonder how we’re related.
“There’s something else I didn’t tell you.”
“What? That he fingered you at the tattoo parlor?”
My face flushes, and I hope she won’t notice.
“Not quite, he offered to.”
“I think you’re full of shit, but whatever. What is the thing you’re not telling me?”
“We went to grade school with him!”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Gabriel Irwin, you probably don’t remember him because he left when I was in seventh grade.”
“Did he have a younger sister? There was a Melanie Irwin in my class who left halfway through the year.”
“Yes, that was his sister. Why did they leave?”
“I don’t know, she wasn’t my friend. The only reason I remember her is because she used to cry all the time in class. Something about her mother being sick. And then she moved away. That’s all I remember about her.”
“Interesting.”
“I don’t see how knowing him in school changes anything. If you’re attracted to him, and he’s actually interested in your sexual pleasure instead of his own, I don’t see a single reason not to fuck him.”
“I’ve never done anything like that before. His nipples are pierced!”
“Even better.”
“I don’t know, he’s so different from anyone I’ve ever had a relationship with.”
“Stop thinking about a relationship. This is meaningless sex. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want to spend forever with him. All that matters is that he’s good in the sack.” Sophie’s shoulders drop, and she reaches her hand across to mine and takes hold of it. “It makes me sad that my sister had never had an orgasm. We need to fix that.”
Gabe
I hold my arm along the wall behind me, stretching the way Eloise showed me. Since my physio session with her, I’ve religiously done all my stretches three times as often as she said to do them.
It’s paying off. My shoulder hasn’t felt this good in months. I have another session with her today. It’s only Wednesday, but I changed my appointment from Thursday because I couldn’t wait another day to see her again. Actually, I didn’t cancel the Thursday appointment. I figure two physio sessions with her is even better than one.
My phone rings, and I step away from the wall to get it from the coffee table. It’s Kaylee. I hit ignore, and set the phone back on the table. She can fuck off. I paid her, there’s no need for me to ever talk to her again.
Going back to the wall, I do some more stretches. The text message notification dings a minute later, and I pick up the phone to read it.
I’m working for Marshall now. Thought you’d want to know.
No, Kaylee, I don’t need to know that you work for Marshall. I don’t care that you’ve joined Hell in a Needle. I don’t care about you at all. I don’t feel the need to tell her that.
Setting the phone back on the table, I head to the bathroom for a quick shower before my appointment with Eloise.
As the water runs over my head, a thought strikes me. Should I warn Marshall about Kaylee? Even if he is the biggest cocksucker on the planet? Fuck him.
My mind turns to Eloise, and my dick springs to life. If I take care of it now, it might behave itself during physio. Wrapping my hand around it, I stroke it, picturing myself pulling Eloise’s ponytail.
The fantasy morphs into the feel of her hands on my back and then I laugh. I can’t stop thinking about how much I enjoy being with her.
I don’t know what I want more, to fuck her or an actual relationship.
The longer I tug on my cock, the more I realize that it’s Eloise I want, all of her. She will be mine in every sense of the word.
Her pussy, spread for me that first day, takes over my brain, and tingles coat my skin. Another stroke and cum erupts from my cock, giving me the release I need before I see her.
Maybe I can get through today’s session without having a painfully hard erection.
After drying off and dressing, I pick up my keys and phone, ready to go to Eloise.
There is another text from Kaylee.
Did you see my text about me working for Marshall at Hell in a Needle?
Rolling my eyes, I type a quick message back.
Good luck to you. Now leave me alone. I’m blocking your number.
She’s lucky that’s all I’m doing. I should be reporting her to the cops. Once again I wonder if I should be warning Marshall about her or not.
Fiddling around on the phone, I figure out how to block her number. Good riddance to her.
I hop on my bike and make my way to sweet Eloise, my Jewel.
When I arrive at the office, the chick behind the counter, Marcy, drops the papers she was holding.
“Back again?” she asks, her voice half breathy and half nervous.
I don’t know if she’s flirting with me or not. She flicks her hair. It’s definitely flirting. In her dreams.
“I’ll take a seat,” I say, winking.
Eloise appears a few minutes later, smiling. My heart thuds at the sight of her. It’s going to be a struggle to control myself.
“Follow me,” she says.
I want to tell her that I liked it better when she said ‘come with me’, but I vowed to be on my best behavior today.
“How’s the shoulder?” she asks, shutting the door to the room behind us.
“Much better. Those stretches are really helping.”
“You’ve been doing the stretches?” she asks, her eyebrows raised in surprise.
“That surprises you?”
She shrugs. “Most people don’t.”
“I’m not most people.”
“Let’s check your range.”
I follow her instructions as she tells me to move my arms around. Her face is serious with concentration the entire time, her soft lips moving left and right while she thinks. I struggle to stop from pulling her against me and kissing her.
“Take your shirt off and lie face down,” she says.
A massive grin pushes across my face. They’re words straight from my fantasies. I’ve been thinking about them all week. Thank fuck I took care of my dick in the shower, or it’d be rock hard right now. Instead, it’s only semi.
Eloise ignores her notes and watches me as I grab the hem of my shirt. I try to grab her eyes, but her gaze is fixed on my stomach. I lift my shirt a little, exposing my abs, and her mouth quivers with a smile.
I open my mouth to crack a comment, but bite my tongue. Today is all about making her comfortable with me.
She watches intently as I pull off my shirt the rest of the way. With my shirt in my hand, I lock my eyes on hers, and we stand motionless for a moment.
My dick stiffens, and I break the gaze and lie down before she notices the massive bulge in my pants.
Through the face hole in the table, I watch her feet. She moves to the wall shelf, then back to me. Positioning herself at the top of the table, the toes of her shoes are directly under my eyes.
I wait, ready for her t
o run her hands over me the way she did last week, but she remains motionless. What is she thinking? Is she chickening out of touching me again?
The air in the small room charges, getting more electric with each passing moment.
And then she lays her hands on me.
My body jolts from head to toe. The thin paper under me rips under my sudden movement.
Her hands don’t move from my back. It’s as though they’re stuck to me, unable to pull away.
Eloise adjusts her feet, and begins the deep tissue massage along my shoulder blade. I fight to keep my mind off of her. From all the ways I’d like her to touch me, and for me to touch her.
No matter how hard I try, I can’t help the raging hard-on in my pants.
“Thought any more about how to fix your problem?” I ask, all attempt at keeping control gone with her touch on my body.
“As a matter of fact, I have.”
“Really?” I ask, genuinely surprised.
“Yes. I’ve been thinking a lot about it since I last saw you, and I think you’re right.”
“By right, you mean you want my help?”
Her hands stop moving, and she pauses. “Yeah, I think maybe I do.”
Holy fucking hell. I can’t believe she just said that. If I was hard a second ago, now my dick is so hard it hurts like a son of a bitch. I can’t even adjust myself, as any movement near it is likely to end up as a mess in my pants.
Neither of us says anything else as she works on my shoulder. Even though I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist me for long, her words just changed everything.
My mind races through the possibilities.
“Okay, sit up,” she says, tapping my back.
I sit up, unconcerned about my raging erection.
Eloise wraps my arm around her back, the same way she did last week. My exposed skin prickles from her nearness. But there’s one resolution of mine I won’t forget – this isn’t just going to be about sex.
Our eyes lock as she rocks her body back and forth, teasing me with her lips.
As much as I’d like to rip off her clothes right here, I’m good. I behave myself. But I can’t hold off for much longer.
On an inward rock, I squeeze my arm around her, and bring her head close to mine. My nostrils fill with her fruity shampoo, and I’m overcome with the urge to rip out her ponytail holder. I want to see her hair wild around her face, not the carefully tied back way it always is.
Pierce Me: Satisfied by the Bad Boy Page 5