Beneath These Shadows

by Meghan March

  I raised my gaze from her chest, expecting her cheeks to be red when she realized I was staring at her nipples, but she wasn’t watching my face. She was staring down at my body.

  “Like what you see?”

  That got her attention.

  Eden jerked her head up to meet my eyes, and the blush colored her skin like I’d timed it.

  “You’re . . . big.”

  A booming laugh broke free from my throat at her unexpected response, and her cheeks flamed even brighter.

  “No, that’s not what I meant. I mean . . . everywhere. Not just, in the . . .” She looked down, then jerked her gaze back to mine. “I’m going to shut up now.”

  That kind of awkward and fumbling response couldn’t be faked, and protectiveness rose in me again. Eden was no con artist. She was a girl who couldn’t even say the word cock without turning red.

  “Ain’t no shame in my game.”

  She reached out a hand and covered my lips with her fingers. “Stop. You’re just making it worse. I wasn’t checking out your . . . package. I mean, I did before you got in the pool, but that’s only because I thought you’d have underwear on because who doesn’t wear underwear?” The babbling continued, and so did my laughter.

  Hell, I hadn’t laughed this much since Delilah had given in to a customer’s request and tattooed a flexing veined eggplant cartoon on a client so he could send pictures of it instead of dick pics.

  Eden pulled her hand back and covered her face. “I’m going to stop talking now. I seriously can’t be trusted to say anything that’s not completely humiliating when you’re standing this close to me naked.”

  “I disagree, and since I’m not ready to get out and put my clothes on, you’re going to have to deal with it.”

  She mumbled something under her breath.

  “Come again?”

  Eden pressed her lips together for a beat before saying, “I don’t know how to deal with it. This isn’t something I’ve ever dealt with before.”

  A crazy thought popped into my brain. “Are you a virgin?”

  If there was a red brighter than fire engine, that was the color of Eden’s cheeks. “No! Of course not. Really. I’ve touched a dick before. I mean, just the one, but it still counts. Well, I didn’t really touch it. Except, you know, inside me. Oh my God, I’m just going to shut up now.”

  Realization dawned on me as her babbled protest silenced. “You’ve had sex with one guy? Once? How old are you?”

  Eden turned to bolt, but instead smashed her tits into my arm. I stepped close enough so that only an inch of water separated us.

  Her gaze went skyward. “This is so humiliating.”

  That’s where she and I had differing opinions. “Why? Because you haven’t fucked every guy you’ve ever met? What’s wrong with that?”

  Eden’s gaze snapped down to mine and her brows drew into slashes. “Hey, whoa now. You can toss that double-standard crap right in the trash. What if I had screwed every guy I ever met? Would that make me less of a person? I mean, it’s not like you probably haven’t been with dozens and dozens of women. I’m not judging you. Except for maybe that Kitty girl. I mean, really? You’ve got to have some standards.”

  My laughter boomed out again across the courtyard. “Cupcake, just because I can get most any pussy I want, doesn’t mean I do it.”

  “Still, double standards are—”

  When she started on another tirade, I decided to silence her the best way I knew how.

  I leaned down and covered her lips with mine.

  HE WAS KISSING ME. HE was naked. I was naked. And my hands, mouth, and the rest of my body decided this was the best idea anyone had ever had. That was the only excuse I had for why there was no water separating us anymore, and the hot, hard length of Bishop’s cock pressed into my stomach.

  My fingers gripped his shoulders as his hands found my ass and lifted me higher in the water, sliding his cock directly against my clit, a spot that normally only zinged with pleasure because of the toys I owned.

  I moaned into his mouth and held on tighter. A small voice told me that this was going to escalate way too quickly for my own self-preservation, but I told it to shut the hell up because I wanted a non-self-induced orgasm.

  Bishop’s hands, no doubt incredibly clever due to using them all freaking day, squeezed my ass as he groaned.

  One move. That’s all it would take for him to be inside me. What stunned me more than the fact that I found myself writhing against him in a pool was the fact that I wanted him inside me so very badly.

  Heat licked over my body, and I knew if I didn’t stop soon, I wasn’t going to have the willpower to stop at all. But before I could call a halt, Bishop jerked back and his hands dropped away from my ass. By the time my feet touched the bottom of the pool, he had backed away until he hit the other side.

  “Fuck, cupcake. Two more seconds and I would’ve been inside you.”

  He said this like it was somehow going to be news to me.

  What was the appropriate response for this? Probably not, I know, right?

  Instead I blurted, “I don’t have a towel. Why didn’t I bring a towel?”

  His lips turned up into a sensual smile. “Didn’t plan the skinny-dipping? Just went with your instincts?”

  “Basically.”

  Thankfully, Harriet had kept the apartment stocked with sheets and towels, but that meant I had to get out of this pool, naked, with Bishop watching me.

  Umm. Nope. That wasn’t going to work. Looked like I was going to stay in this pool forever—or at least until he left and I could climb out without him seeing the cellulite on my thighs and butt, and the lack of toned muscles due to not going to the gym in the last millennium.

  Bishop seemed to read the dilemma on my face. “You going to go get something to dry off with?”

  “Eventually.”

  “Now would be better.”

  I looked down at the water and pretended to study my nails. “I’m good with waiting.”

  “I guess you’re going to get a great look at my ass then, because that means I’m going to go get them.” With a splash of water, he pushed himself up and out of the pool, and my attention went right to his ass.

  Where did men get asses like that? His was perfect. The rounded muscles flexed as he put one foot on the ground and then the other.

  He jogged up to the spiral staircase and I couldn’t help but watch. I think I might have even drooled.

  Ink. Muscle. Pure man.

  My earlier thought about him being completely out of my league came back in spades. And now he knew just how inexperienced I was.

  Bishop let himself into my apartment and disappeared for a few minutes before coming out with a towel wrapped around his waist and one in his hand.

  He stopped at the edge of the pool and shook it out. “Come on, cupcake. You’re going to prune.”

  Seriously? He’s worried about me pruning and I’m staring at the outline of his cock beneath his towel, wishing he was still pressed against me. Apparently I was the only sexually frustrated one in this situation.

  But even my sexual frustration wasn’t enough to get me to step out of this pool naked in front of him.

  “You can leave it on the edge and turn around.”

  Once again, his deep, rich laugh filled the courtyard. “Cupcake, I’m not sure where you got the idea that I was some kind of gentleman, but by now, you should know that’s not the case. The only reason I didn’t find out how tight that pussy of yours was is because I don’t have a rubber on me.”

  How stupid was I that I hadn’t even thought about a condom? Embarrassment filled me, and came out as contrariness. “And because I didn’t want you to find out.”

  “Bullshit.” He shrugged. “Whatever you have to tell yourself to make you feel better.”

  Bishop didn’t drop the towel, and I was faced with the choice of staying in the pool or giving in.

  “Just turn around.”

  “
I’ve already felt nearly every inch of you, and there’s not a damn thing I didn’t like, so what does it matter?”

  “It matters,” I yelled. “Okay? It matters to me.”

  Instead of laughing at me or refusing again, he turned his back and held the towel out to the side.

  I swam toward the stairs, climbed out, and pulled it from his hand. As soon as I had it wrapped around my body, Bishop turned around and his intense green gaze collided with mine.

  “I want you. I’m not making any secret of that, but now I’m going to wait until you admit that you want me just as much.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I wasn’t denying it, but something held me back. Probably the same embarrassment that had paralyzed me in the pool. I didn’t know how to navigate this situation, and I certainly had no idea how to respond.

  When I stayed silent, Bishop didn’t speak again. Instead, he reached for the knot of his towel and tugged it off before tossing it aside and reaching for his jeans.

  His eyes stayed on my face as though daring me to look down like I had before. I was determined to prove that I had retained some self-control where he was concerned.

  The hiss of the zipper sounded between us and he bent to grab his shirt. “You’re a fucking contradiction. Stubborn, innocent, curious, and a whole hell of a lot of other things I haven’t figured out yet.” He pulled the shirt over his head. “But I will.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was a threat or a promise, but either way, I didn’t know if I’d be able to withstand his scrutiny. I was supposed to be laying low, not attracting attention or raising questions while I waited for my summons. And instead I’d aroused the curiosity of a man who seemed to have the tenacity of a bulldog. I didn’t need him to be curious, but the thought of him being anything else didn’t sit well with me either.

  I watched in silence as he shoved his feet into socks and pulled on his boots. When he was done, he stood.

  “I’ll be seeing you around, Eden. That’s a promise.”

  FABIENNE PUT BOTH HANDS ON her hips and watched as I looped my apron over my neck and tied it around my back. The bright purple coordinated with my white polo and jeans and Sperrys. It wasn’t like I could wear one of my new dresses, so this would have to work. Your Favorite Hole was embroidered on the purple hat I fit over my ponytail and secured on my head.

  “That uniform makes you look even cuter than normal. I didn’t know that was possible,” Fabienne said before turning to the espresso machine.

  Her words instantly made me wonder what Bishop would think when he came in for his coffee. Would he look at me differently? What if he didn’t look at me differently? God, that would be even worse.

  After he left last night, I’d kicked myself for not stuffing a vibrator in my suitcase. Note to self: next time, make sure to pack all the essentials.

  I’d pulled up my favorite bookmarked dirty scenes and handled things the old-fashioned way. But even two orgasms hadn’t been able to put me to sleep. I’d tossed and turned for hours, and then when I finally drifted off, I’d dreamed about Bishop sitting on the chair in my bedroom, jacking off while he watched me.

  For the first time in my life, I considered begging for sex.

  Pathetic. I would not beg. But it wasn’t like I had the skills to make him beg. This needed to be remedied . . . but not right now.

  “First things first. You’re going to make me the best latte you can, and then I’ll give you any pointers to up your game.”

  Pushing all dirty thoughts of Bishop out of my head, I turned to the espresso machine and unhooked the portafilter from the head and checked to make sure it was empty before holding it under the grinder and filling it with espresso grounds. After tamping it down, I returned it to the head and paused with my finger over the buttons.

  “One-shot or two-shot latte?”

  “Small is one, medium is two, and large is three. Let’s do a medium. We don’t do that tall, grande, venti shit here, for the record.”

  I slid the shot glasses under the spouts and pressed the button for two shots before bending down to open the fridge beneath and asking, “What kind of milk?”

  “We do skim, two percent, soy, and coconut. Do skim, and I’ll talk you through steaming coconut and soy later.”

  Nodding, I grabbed the container and poured what I hoped was enough into the metal pitcher and checked the thermometer on the side. From my own personal experience, I remembered that I needed to hit at least 155 degrees. I frothed the milk while the espresso finished dripping before grabbing a paper cup.

  “Any flavoring?”

  In my peripheral vision, I caught her head tilting to the side. “Amaretto.”

  Keeping one eye on the milk, I grabbed the amaretto flavoring and poured one shot into the bottom of the cup before adding the espresso. When the milk came up to temperature, I added it in as well, stirring as I went.

  “I can’t make any fancy designs on the top, though. I hope that’s not a job requirement.”

  I set the milk pitcher and the long metal-handled spoon aside and offered the latte to Fabienne.

  “We’ll have you drawing dicks in no time,” she said with a smile as she accepted the cup.

  There’s no way I can fit a dick as big as Bishop’s on top of a latte. Seriously, how big was that monster?

  The thought disappeared as Fabienne brought the cup to her lips. Moment of truth.

  She sipped and I held my breath. Her expression gave nothing away until she lowered the latte back to the counter and nodded.

  “You’ll do just fine.”

  Releasing my breath, my cheeks tugged with the smile that stretched across my face. “Really?”

  “Damn right, you will.”

  The validation I felt from her approval soared far and beyond what I’d felt in years. I thought about holding it in, but cast that aside to pump my fist into the air.

  Fabienne’s laugh seemed to fill the room, all the way to the tin-stamped ceiling. “Yeah, you’ll do just fine here. Now, let’s talk donut holes and packaging them up.” She swung her gaze to mine. “You’ve gotta handle them real carefully. Just pretend they’re a guy’s balls and you don’t want to crush them.”

  I slapped a hand over my mouth. “Oh my God, you did not just say that.” Once again, a mental picture of Bishop’s equipment flashed through my brain.

  “Sure did, and I bet it helps.”

  And just like that, I was officially employed in New Orleans.

  THE LINES OF A GIRL’S face stared back at me as I worked on the portrait of a man’s daughter on the outside of his bicep. It took all my concentration to make each one perfect because this wasn’t the kind of tattoo I could fuck up and live with myself.

  “She’s going to be seven this year, and I decided this would be the way I’d always remember her. Even when she’s got a license and driving and boys are chasing after her, I always want to remember my little girl when I was the only important man in her life.”

  My client’s words penetrated, and I wondered what it would be like to feel that way. With the course I’d set for my life, it wasn’t in the cards.

  “You mind if we take a break? I could use a smoke.”

  I was holding the tattoo machine in midair as I let my mind wander, but snapped out of it. “Of course. Take your time.” I looked down at my watch. “I’m going to run next door and get some coffee. You want anything?”

  The client shook his head. “Nah, just some nicotine.”

  I put everything on the counter behind me and snapped my gloves off my hands before standing and stretching. Staying in one position for too long told me exactly how much of an old man I was becoming. Thirty-three years felt older than it should most days.

  But when I walked into Your Favorite Hole, the feeling fell away as laughter reached me.

  Eden was standing sideways, reaching into the donut bins and pulling out selections for a man that had to be eighty if he was a day.

  “I mean, come o
n, it is called Your Favorite Hole for a reason. You have to pick your favorite.” Her tone was light and teasing, and the man’s smile grew.

  “Oh, darlin’, if I wasn’t fifty years past my prime, I’d have a whole lot more to say to that.”

  The rush of possessiveness that had been dogging me since I’d met Eden didn’t come this time. The old man was harmless.

  He turned and saw me. “But this young man, he looks to be about the right one for you. I bet if you teased him, he’d just pick you up and carry you home.”

  Eden glanced toward me. Her cheeks bloomed with color but her smile stayed intact. “He does seem like the type, doesn’t he? I think that’s a safe bet.”

  The old man glanced between us, looking intrigued. “I sense some history here. You have intentions toward this girl? As her unofficial new grandfatherly figure, I feel the need to look out for her.”

  I didn’t know what it was about Eden that made people automatically want to protect and defend her, but I couldn’t fault the old man for feeling like that when it was my natural instinct.

  Eden leaned an arm on the counter and rested her chin in her hand. “What say you, Bishop? Do you have intentions toward this girl?” Her tone carried laughter, but there was something else underlying it. Challenge.

  I studied her and considered my response. Might as well lay it all out there. “I’ve got intentions. Plenty of them.”

  Eden’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline at my answer.

  The old man caught on quickly. “I bet you do, boy. I bet you do.” He laid money on the counter and reached for the box of donuts. “You better watch this one, Eden. If he’s anything like me with my Sally, he might take his time with the decision, but once he’s decided, there’s nothing that’ll stand in his way.”

  His words echoed in my head. Was that what I was doing? Taking my time with the decision to make Eden mine? I hadn’t even considered the possibility of something permanent because my life hadn’t left room for it. And then here was Con asking me if I’d want to buy Voodoo, and an old man insinuating that I could have permanent intentions toward Eden.