Inked in the Music

by Kitt Rose

  “Let me take you out tomorrow,” he murmured, nuzzling my hair.

  “Yes.” Because of course I said yes.

  The next morning, I called Joey. This date felt different somehow, and I wanted to look extra special.

  When she answered, I could hear the kids at the ballet studio in the background laughing. I told her what I wanted, and she agreed to stop by after classes.

  Joey brought Trina when the studio closed at six.

  “Don’t you need to poke some holes in people?” I asked Trina.

  “I’ll get back to it. I’m taking a lunch break. Plus, I had to see this shit. So he finally sacked up and asked you out, huh?”

  “Trina, be nice! He was being sweet, given her time to get to know him. Besides, they’ve been out a few times already,” Joey said as she unpacked a curling iron, makeup, a dress, jewelry, and shoes from a small bag.

  “How did you…” I gestured to the bag of stuff.

  “I have minions,” she said. “Or a husband. Same thing really. I told Ty what to grab, he dropped it at the studio before heading in.” She pushed me into a kitchen chair and plugged in the curling iron. “He talks about you, you know?”

  “Who, Ty?” I asked, confused.

  “No, silly. Dennis. He talks to me about you.” She worked some stuff through my hair and started curling strands. “Has he told you about his exes? The most recent two?”

  “He’s mentioned them.” I hadn’t asked many questions when they came up because I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

  “Soo-jin was the big one. He was with her for like six years.”

  I swallowed hard. That was a really long time.

  “They had a weird relationship. He ended things right before he moved down here. She was a stripper, you know?”

  “A stripper?” Wow, I suddenly felt really self-conscious. “Why’d they break up?”

  “Yeah. She started stripping to pay for college. Got her degree but didn’t want to give up the money so she kept at it. She was like Trina, a total attention whore.”

  Trina stuck out her tongue and flipped Joey off—all in one motion.

  Joey grinned and went on. “She wanted to get married. He didn’t. But all the girls he’s dated that I’ve met were all kind of…”

  “If we’re talking Ella, I think the word you’re searching for is slutty,” Trina said, examining her nails. “Or maybe skank.”

  “I was going to say worldly. But yeah. Slutty would work. And you’re so not. He said you’re inexperienced.”

  “Yeah. Inexperienced.” I snorted. “He was my first kiss.”

  Trina’s jaw dropped and Joey froze.

  I flushed. “Long story, but the guys who gave me the time of day only wanted one thing.”

  “Aw, honey, if you think there’s only one thing you’ve got a lot to learn,” Trina drawled.

  Laughter filled my small apartment and I blinked. I’d never had this before. Friends helping me get ready for a date. It felt really normal and extra nice.

  Joey curled my hair into soft waves. She showed me how to put on eyeliner and mascara. A little powder and some sheer eye shadow and my eyes looked huge and bright. For clothes, she’d brought me a pretty pale-green tunic and soft gray leggings. The shoes were too small. But I had a pair of second-hand store heels for interviews. I’d never worn them, but now was as good a time as any.

  Within seconds, it became clear that I did not know how to walk in the shoes. After Joey and Trina left, I spent the next twenty minutes walking circles around my apartment.

  When Dennis knocked at ten after eight, I hesitated. What if he didn’t like the way I looked?

  He knocked again and with a deep breath, I opened the door, a shy smile on my face.

  Dennis was poised to knock again. His hand hung in the air for a solid minute as his gaze swept over me.

  “Wow,” he said finally, tucking a curl behind my ear. “You look beautiful.”

  Silence descended as Dennis stared at me. I shifted on my feet, awkward and unsure. And my feet were starting to hurt.

  Dennis cleared his throat. “So, um, I know it’s a little cliché, but I want to give you the classic dating experience, dinner and a movie.”

  “Um, sweetie, it’s a little late for both, isn’t it?” I smiled tentatively.

  His lips curved up when I called him sweetie. “How about we pick up some takeout and head to my house and watch a movie?” Whatever he saw on my face he misinterpreted as reservation, because he rushed on. “I’d say we could grab something and come back here but you don’t have a TV.”

  “It’s fine. I trust you. And I’d like to see where you live.” And I did.

  He waited while I locked my door. I clutched his arm tightly as he led me down the stairs. He laughed at me, shaking his head. When we hit solid ground again, I punched him in the ribs playfully.

  “I’m not used to these shoes yet. I was nervous about the grating. Had this picture of my heel getting stuck in one of the openings and tumbling down.”

  “You know I don’t care what shoes you wear right? This is totally unnecessary.” He gestured with his free hand, sweeping his hand from top to bottom.

  My face fell.

  “No. I didn’t mean it like that. Shit. I meant I like you exactly the way you are. You look great, but you don’t need any of this. You’re beautiful without it.”

  Heat spread through my face. “Thank you. It’s really strange to hear that. But it feels really nice.”

  He stopped me and turned me toward him. “And it’s true. I know you don’t see it, but people look at you. Guys look at you. Those huge eyes and perfect porcelain skin. And those dimples just … they’re killer.”

  Absolute sincerity shone on his face. The warmth swept down my chest to curl in my belly.

  “Well, when I first saw you, I think I stopped breathing for a minute.”

  He liked that. A lot. The heat intensified as his hands framed my face and he rubbed my nose with his. Then without another word, he pulled me back into motion and led me to his car.

  We stopped at a barbecue place and Dennis ran in to get us food. Sitting in the car, watching him through the windows, I had a moment of extreme disbelief. A few months ago, I never would have imagined having so many friends, let alone a boyfriend. Not that he was my boyfriend. Or was he? He wasn’t just a boy who was a friend either. He was more than that.

  A few minutes more passed, and Dennis strode out of the restaurant with a big brown bag.

  When we turned into a driveway ten minutes later, I sat up straighter. “Is this your house?”

  “Yeah. It’s not much, but it’s mine.” He sounded embarrassed somehow.

  Did he think I was unimpressed? Because that wasn’t it at all. “It’s nice. But… That first night you told me my apartment was on your way home and we just drove past Scottie’s to get here.”

  Dennis’s ears turned red. “Yeah, so…” He ran a hand over his head in a gesture that spoke of embarrassment.

  I laughed. His lie made me so happy. “So, are you going to show me your house or are we just going to sit in the car all night?”

  He smiled sheepishly, taking the bag of food. I stepped out of the car, taking in the small, gray house. A cement stoop, flanked by bushes, led to a red door.

  “I bought it off Ty when he and Phini moved into her childhood home. First thing I did was get vinyl siding. Next, I’m going to have someone come in and fix the heat and AC. Someone converted the attic into a really nice master bedroom and bathroom, but the AC and heat don’t really do it up there.” He unlocked the door and gestured me inside.

  A small hallway led into a cozy living room done in warm earth tones. The brown walls contrasted nicely with a big tan leather couch and an oversized ivory ottoman. An oriental rug in navy and red provided pops of color. In the corner, a modern glass and metal entertainment center housed the biggest television I’d ever seen. Shelves on either side were stuffed with DVDs, books, and records
.

  He led me into a narrow kitchen on the other side of the entry hallway. After laying the food containers out on the counter, he pulled out two plates. “We can sit in here and eat, or we can eat and watch. I’m good with either.”

  “Let’s eat and watch,” I said, dishing out food for us both.

  “Good choice. You want a glass of wine?” He pulled a bottle out of the fridge.

  “You drink wine?” He didn’t seem like a wine drinker.

  “Not too often but I keep it around for whenever Phini comes over. This one’s sweet.”

  I nodded and he pulled out two glasses and a corkscrew. He set the wine and his plate on one end table and lit a few candles. “What kind of movie do you want to watch?”

  “I don’t know. Aside from Disney and the classics, I haven’t seen much.”

  “Do you like sci-fi suspense?” He had his hand on a DVD.

  “I don’t know. I like sci-fi and suspense books, so probably.”

  “Alien?”

  “Isn’t that the one with the thing bursting out of someone’s chest?”

  “You’ve seen it?”

  “No, but I’m pretty sure I read something about it.” The idea of what was supposed to happen in the movie made me a little queasy, but I wouldn’t admit that. “I’ll give it a try.”

  Dennis put in the movie and turned off the overhead light, leaving the room lit by candles. He poured us both a glass of wine and settled on the couch.

  I sat next to him and took a bite of my barbecue sandwich. “Oh, my gosh this is so good.”

  “I love their food. Don’t get it that often because it’s too much for just me.”

  We chatted a little until the movie started and then aside from a comment here or question there, we ate in silence. When I was done with my food, Dennis took my plate and disappeared into the kitchen, coming back with a pack of Oreos that he set unopened on the ottoman. Then he took my wine from my hand and set it on his end table before wrapping his hand around my hip and pulling me next to him. He handed my glass back without a word and threw his arm around my shoulders.

  I was grateful for that arm when we got farther into the movie. I ended up leaning over Dennis to put my glass on the end table so I wouldn’t spill it when I jumped and buried my face into his chest. He chuckled and pulled me closer.

  Scary movies were awesome. I loved watching them with Dennis. Especially because, eventually, I ended up with my shoes off, sitting on his lap with both his arms around me. This made hiding my face easy, and every time I did, I inhaled the warm, spicy incense scent that clung to him.

  When the credits scrolled across the screen, he put his hand under my chin and turned my face to his. And then his mouth collided with mine.

  Chapter Ten

  Need

  Zirah

  The times Dennis had kissed me before started soft and sweet with only a little heat. This was different… There was nothing tentative in this kiss. Fiery and full of need, his lips crashed into mine. I scrambled to turn around, straddling his lap.

  “We don’t do anything you don’t want,” he whispered gruffly into my ear. “If you aren’t sure, you just say stop.”

  “Okay.”

  One hand slipped under the back of my shirt, his palm warm against my skin. I slid my hands up his chest to circle his neck and pressed tight against him. He shifted his hand around my ribs. His fingertips caressed higher and higher until he brushed my breast.

  I gasped and he froze.

  Why is he stopping? He can’t stop.

  Driven by instinct and need, I ran my hand down his chest and tentatively slipped under his shirt, touching the firm muscles of his abdomen. They jumped under my fingertips.

  Flattening my hand against his warm flesh, I dragged my hand back up. When I reached his pectoral muscle, his hand moved inward, cupping my breast. I arched into his touch.

  “Can I…” His free hand grasped at the hem of my shirt.

  I hesitated. “I know you’ve seen them but … my scars.”

  “It’s okay. Every part of you is beautiful, Zirah. Trust me.”

  I nodded and he slowly slid my shirt up over my head. He traced a scar on my chest down to the edge of my plain black bra. One long finger slipped into the cup and tugged it down. My breath caught. Dark eyes met mine, and his thumb circled my areola.

  His head dipped and he pressed a kiss there, his gaze darting back to mine. When he saw me watching him intently, he darted his tongue out to taste me. A breathy moan escaped and turned into a loud groan when his mouth closed over the sensitive tip, his teeth tugging gently.

  “Can I take off your shirt?” I asked when his mouth came back to mine. He gave me a crooked grin and whipped his shirt off, tossing it with mine. I ran my hand over his chest, surprised the skin there was tattoo-free. I was so intent on my own exploration that I didn’t realize he was unhooking my bra until the tension disappeared. My eyes went wide as both his hands cupped my chest. His fingers flicked over my nipples, making them pebble and tingle.

  Suddenly, he moved, his hands sliding down to cup my bottom as he stood and shifted me on the couch, laying me down and lowering himself over me. He moved his hand to grasp behind my knee, pulling my leg up over his hip. I gasped as his hardness sank deep into my softness. His mouth came back down on mine, one hand going to my breast, the other holding my knee in place. His hips pushed into mine and he moaned.

  “I want to touch you,” he said into my mouth. His hand left my knee to slide down my thigh and across to my stomach. He held it there for a moment, waiting for me to stop him, I thought.

  I wouldn’t stop him. Didn’t want to stop him. I throbbed to be touched.

  “Yes,” I whispered when his hand hadn’t moved. His mouth crashed back into mine and with a groan, he glided his hand down to the band of my leggings, toying with the edge for a moment before slipping underneath. I thought I stopped breathing as his fingers pressed into me through the cotton of my underwear.

  He growled. “God. You’re so wet.”

  Then his hand slipped inside my panties and his finger traced me, just outside of where I ached to be touched. Slowly, his touch moved inward, closer and closer until he circled my clitoris. I buried my head into his neck, moaning. His caress sped up and I clutched at his shoulders, arching. He grabbed my hand and pulled it to his jeans, setting my hand against the erection straining against his zipper. My breath hitched and he pressed my hand flat, showing me how to touch him. When his hand moved away, I had a moment of extreme bravery and I slipped my hand under the waist of his jeans.

  I curled my fingers around his erection. It was somehow harder and softer than I’d expected. I squeezed gently. He grunted and his hand dipped lower, sliding a finger inside me.

  “Oh my. Oh my,” I breathed as he stroked me, his thumb still circling my clitoris.

  “You’re so tight. Shit.” His voice was almost pained, and he moved his hips into my hand. A second finger joined his first and I couldn’t stop the little sounds that slipped out of my throat.

  “Faster,” he breathed, and I eagerly complied.

  I’d touched myself a few times in the shower, but it never really did anything for me. I couldn’t get past the fact that I was touching myself. I had no idea it could feel like this. And then he did something with his hand and I felt tension building inside.

  “Dennis.” His name was a plea.

  He did it again and I almost came off the couch. I gripped him tighter and he groaned.

  “Fuck, yeah. Just like that.” His breathing became rougher and his hips moved faster.

  He plunged his tongue into my mouth, and he did that thing again and again until everything inside me tightened to a pinpoint of sensation. And then the sweet tension exploded outward, sending languid warmth spilling into my veins.

  I shouted wordlessly as my body clenched around his fingers and his long and broken moan followed. Something warm hit my wrist and he pulsed in my grip as he came. His head
dropped and his forehead hit my shoulder, long hair slipping down to whisper across my chest. I brought my hands up and wrapped them around his shoulders, hugging him to me.

  He slipped his fingers out of me and wrapped his arms around me. He twisted us so that I lay on my side facing him, our fronts pressed together. My bare chest against his was one of the most sensual things ever.

  “You okay?” His voice was soft.

  “Oh, yeah,” I said, and he laughed. “You?”

  “Duh.” He squeezed me tighter. “Not too fast?”

  “I don’t think so.” The absolute sincerity in my voice must have come through because he kissed me deeply, his tongue exploring and caressing mine. I tried to pour every ounce of whatever emotion was bubbling up inside me into that kiss. I couldn’t name the feeling, but I wanted more of it.

  Even after what we’d just done, there was still heat and want in that kiss.

  “When do you need to be home?” he asked.

  “I don’t have anything until Monday morning, so it doesn’t matter.”

  “Do you want to stay over?” he asked.

  My stomach dropped in wonderful anticipation.

  “Nothing has to happen. I’m not expecting anything. It’d just be nice to wake up next to you,” he said quickly.

  “I’ll stay. But I should warn you I don’t sleep well most of the time. I wake up a lot, toss and turn. I don’t want to keep you up.”

  “I hate that.” For a minute I thought he meant me keeping him up but then I realized he meant he hated that I didn’t sleep well. He pushed my hair back from my face, his thumb stroking my cheek.

  “Can I ask you a dumb question?”

  He nodded and I blushed before asking, the words spilling out in a continuous stream. “Are you my boyfriend? I mean, what is this? How does that work? I don’t know how—”

  He put a finger to my lips, silencing me. “Yeah. That’s what I want. Do you want that?”

  “Yes.” It came out breathy and he chuckled. I cuddled into him. “I can’t remember ever being happy like this before.”