Inked in the Music

by Kitt Rose

  Chapter Eleven

  Surprise

  Zirah

  Sunday, October 18th

  Something touched my cheek, pulling me from sleep. My eyes fluttered open.

  Dark eyes, framed by thick lashes, hovered above me, blurry. I blinked until Dennis’s face came into focus.

  “Good morning.” He grinned, one side of his mouth rising higher than the other. His fingers stroked my cheek, right where my dimple lived.

  I leaned into his touch, bringing my mouth to his. His kiss was soft and sweet. Something inside me opened. Like a muscle relaxing, a tightness I hadn’t even been aware of eased.

  “Want to go for breakfast?” he asked.

  “Sure. But I don’t have any clean clothes.”

  “We can stop at your apartment so you can get changed.” He swung out of bed and stretched, arms over his head.

  I enjoyed the view … a lot.

  He caught me staring and smirked. Grabbing his pillow, he tossed it in my face. I laughed and rolled to my knees and batted him back with it. His hands closed on the edge of the pillow and he yanked. I slammed into him. My arms wrapped around him to keep me from falling. The pillow tumbled to the floor, forgotten as his mouth landed on mine.

  He pressed me closer, his skin warm and inviting. I wanted to curl into him.

  Something twitched against me.

  I broke the kiss and raised my eyebrows at him. “Maybe breakfast can wait a little?”

  He flashed a smile and grabbed my shirt, pulling it over my head. His boxers dropped to the floor and he pushed me back into the mattress. My underwear disappeared, tossed aside, and then the warm silk of his skin covered mine.

  I hooked an arm behind his neck and tugged on his earlobe with my teeth. His hands slipped under me, pulling me tighter against him. Lips whispered over my skin, a scrape of teeth, and then his mouth consumed mine.

  When he rolled, pulling me on top of him, I squeaked in surprise. He reached out and slid open a drawer, pulling out a condom. He tore the wrapper and showed me how to put it on him, his hand over mine as I rolled it down his length. And then he sat up and wrapped an arm around my waist, lifting me, slowly lowering me onto him.

  I was tender from last night, and I fought not to flinch at the discomfort. But I wouldn’t stop this. I wanted this—him. He reclined under me, his big hands wrapped around my hips. As he guided me, I got lost in the sensations he pulled from my body. My head fell back and my hands splayed across his chest. The pressure of his fingers on my hips disappeared and I gasped as his hands covered my breasts. My head snapped up and my eyes met his.

  I felt something stir in the dark places in my soul and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop it.

  “Zirah, look at me.”

  I wanted to say no, but my eyes had a mind of their own. I met his gaze.

  Color stained his cheeks, riding high on those elegant cheekbones. He licked his lips and I followed the movement. “I want to be looking into those beautiful eyes when I make you come.”

  I flushed.

  He laughed, and then he did this thing with his hips while his hand strummed my clitoris. I was lost. Every time my head fell, he called to me, drawing my eyes back to him. And then my orgasm washed over me like the tide.

  With a look of wholly male pride, he rolled me under him and chased his own pleasure. I whimpered and pulsed around him, his thrusts drawing out my aftershocks, prolonging the pleasure.

  He came with a grunt, burying his head in my shoulder. His warm breath washed over my neck as his breathing slowed. I wrapped my arms around his wide shoulders and held him to me.

  Someone should pinch me. Just to make sure this was real.

  We didn’t hurry to get out of bed. Lingering until sweat dried and bodies cooled. Then Dennis grabbed a quick shower.

  Afterward, we went to my apartment. I was so relaxed, feeling a little like a cat in a sunny spot. That feeling vanished when I hit the first landing on the stairs to my apartment and saw him. Dread curled in my gut and I grabbed Dennis’s arm, trying to stop him. But it was too late.

  “Z! Where’ve you been?” my brother, Andy, said. “Been waiting since last night.”

  “God bless it.” I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. “Son of a biscuit and crap on a cracker.”

  Dennis raised an eyebrow. “You swear like my grandma,” he said.

  I smiled weakly and tromped up the stairs. Down to my bone, I knew that nothing good would come out of Andy being here. As soon as I hit the landing in front of my door, Andy pulled me in for a hug.

  Anxiety and anger made me step out of his embrace. “What are you doing here?”

  He frowned, his brownish-red hair shaggy and flopping onto his forehead. “Ain’t you gonna introduce me to your friend here?”

  Disapproval radiated from him as he took in Dennis with his long hair, tattoos, and skin that wasn’t anywhere close to white.

  I sighed. “This is my boyfriend Dennis Hansen. Dennis, this is my brother Andy. Now, I love you to death, but what in the heck are you doing here? How did you even get here?”

  “Boyfriend?” he asked, his frown deepening.

  I nodded. “Yup. And not as in a boy who’s a friend.”

  Dennis coughed next to me and I fought an ill-timed grin.

  Still watching Dennis, Andy said, “Can’t a brother come visit his favorite sister?”

  “No. Especially when it’s such a long way and you didn’t tell me you were coming. What are you doing here?”

  Dennis shifted behind me, his hand grazed my shoulder and squeezed. “Maybe we should go inside?”

  His words were too soft for Andy to hear, so of course my brother assumed the worst.

  Andy’s warm brown eyes hardened, and his cheeks went ruddy with anger. “Don’t think I don’t see you whispering over there. I don’t appreciate you talking bad ’bout me to my sister. You don’t know me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Geez, overreact much? Dennis suggested we take this inside, but you know what? I’m over this. You leave, come back when you’re ready to tell me why you’re really here.” I shouldered past him and unlocked my door. Stepping inside, I grabbed Dennis’s hand and pulled him around Andy.

  I closed the door in my brother’s face, anger and impatience keeping me cold.

  “Wait! Fine. You win.” Andy slumped, defeated. “You win.”

  I swung the door wide and gestured for Andy to come inside. He shuffled through the door and I closed it with a metallic thud. Crossing my arms, I leaned against the door, foot tapping as I waited.

  Finally, he said, “I need to lie low for a week or two, three weeks max.”

  “Darn it, what did you do now? How much do you owe?” I rubbed my forehead, hating that Dennis was seeing this.

  Andy shifted uncomfortably. “Three grand.”

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! What were you thinking?” I yelled at him.

  He opened his mouth and I held up my hand to stop him. Muttering unkind words under my breath, I stomped to my closet and ducked inside, closing the door. The apartment had come with a little safe built into the wall. I’d taken to stashing my hourly earnings and tips from the coffee shop in there, a mad money fund. I pulled out enough to cover a room for a few nights at the motel up a few blocks.

  When I came back, I thrust the cash at Andy. “When you hit the street, head that way. You’ll go three blocks and there’ll be a motel on your left. It’s not fancy, but I hear it’s clean. This should be enough for at least three nights plus some food. Go, get a room. You probably won’t be able to check-in until eleven or twelve but…”

  He took the money but looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Can’t I just stay with you?”

  I shook my head. “Absolutely not. I don’t have room here for you.”

  “I can sleep on the couch.”

  “And what if I want Dennis to stay over? What then?”

  Andy clenched his fists and I cut him off before he could wind himself up. “I
t’s not your business what I do or with whom. A, I’m an adult. And B, it’s a little late to play protector. You stood by and watched all the shit Mom put me through. Don’t try to big brother me now.”

  I clenched my fists at my sides. “Heck, you’re not really even my brother, are you? And you’re just as much of a liar as everyone else. Despite everything, I love you. Up to a point, you’ve been good to me. But I don’t owe you anything and I am not your port in the storm. Especially when it’s a storm of your own making. I didn’t hold a gun to your head and make you gamble. This is your shit. You get to clean it up all by yourself.”

  He exhaled and sank onto my couch, dropping his head in his hands. “What happened to you, Zirah?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Falling

  Dennis

  Zirah and her brother looked alike. The shape of their nose, their coloring, there were enough hints of their relation that even without an introduction I would have guessed. But even with their similarities, Andy was nothing like my Z.

  He sat, slumped and defeated, on her couch. Z stood over him, fists clenched at her side, anger and hurt radiating from her.

  “Look at me, Andy,” she said, voice firm.

  Slowly, Andy pulled his head out of his hands and looked at her with red-rimmed eyes.

  Quietly, Z said, “I got out. I got away. You guys…” She swallowed, her volume rising. “You lied to me. For my entire life!”

  She shook. Her entire body trembled. I had tried to stay out of this. This was family and I didn’t think Z would thank me for interfering. But I had to do something. Closing the distance between us, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close. She shuddered when her back met my front.

  Her chest expanded with a deep breath. “Do you have any idea what I had to deal with? And all three of you just left me there. I’m sorry if I’m angry but I think I have every right to be.

  “I’ll help you. Within reason. But I’m not putting you up. I’m not supporting you. You get your own place, you pay your own bills, and you get your own job. I’ll help you with everything I can but that’s it, Andy. That’s all I need to do.”

  Pride swelled in me. Damn, this girl had strength in spades.

  Z stepped away and I let her go. She walked to her brother and grabbed his chin, forcing his head up.

  “This is what you left me to.” And she turned and pulled her shirt over her head.

  Her brother sucked in a breath. “Jesus. Z. Who… How?”

  For a heartbeat, Z was silent, then she tugged the shirt back on and dropped onto the couch next to him. “Remember Reggie?”

  Andy flinched and grabbed her hand, squeezing. “You couldn’t have even been seven. Fuck. Why didn’t Mom do something?”

  “Oh, she did. She laughed,” Z said, voice bitter.

  Her brother’s pained expression shifted, and pity shone in his eyes.

  Z straightened her spine and thrust out her jaw. “I survived, no thanks to you. No thanks to any of you.”

  Andy wrapped his arms around his sister. Z sat stiff for a moment, then her arms went around him. Her posture softened when her brother said, “I’m sorry.”

  Pushing away, she patted his shoulder. “Okay. Why don’t you go get a room and start looking for a job? There’s a restaurant across the street from the motel that’s always got a hiring sign in the window. You’ve got experience.”

  “Okay. Yeah.”

  “You get settled in and start looking for a job. Come back tomorrow morning and we’ll have breakfast and catch up. Okay?”

  “Yeah. That sounds good. Thanks.” He popped to his feet and headed toward the door. Z trailed behind him, and I followed them both.

  Once he was outside, he took a step toward the stairs before turning around. “Hey, Z? Are you ever coming home?” he asked, his voice quiet.

  Zirah tilted her head. “No. Why would I want to go back there? I was never happy there. I’m happy here, and if someday I’m not, I can move on.”

  He nodded once and looked thoughtful. Without another word, he disappeared down the stairs. She stared after him, her spine bending and shoulders rounding inward. Her posture gave me the impression that if she could have, she would have curled in on herself and disappeared.

  I turned her gently and ushered her back inside before wrapping her in my arms. She took the comfort I offered, wrapping her arms around my waist. One icy hand slipped under my shirt and pressed to my back while she cuddled her head into my chest. I hid the flinch as she warmed her hand on me, pressing a kiss to her hair.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  She nodded without looking up.

  With a finger under her chin, I tilted her face to mine. “You don’t seem okay.”

  “I hate that you saw that,” she said.

  “That I saw what? That your brother turned to you when he got himself into trouble? Or that you’re helping him in the best way you can by not bailing him out but still standing by him? Is that what you hate that I saw? Because, I gotta say all that just makes you even more amazing.”

  The prettiest shade of pink stained her cheeks at my compliment. “You make it sound so great. But no. I hate the fact that my thirty-six-year-old brother got himself into so much trouble with a bookie he had to hitchhike down here so he didn’t lose a finger or wind up with a broken leg. My family’s just so…”

  “Hey. Don’t do that. My mom was sixteen. Who knows who my dad was, or what their relationship was. I was lucky enough to be adopted by someone who would love me. I could have been in your exact situation. I’m not judging you. Not about who you happened to be born to. If anything, I admire you more because of who you are despite all that.”

  She stared up at me, mouth open in surprise. And then she kissed me.

  The woman used my ears as handholds and gently tugged my face down to hers. I chuckled into the kiss.

  She tasted of toothpaste and something sweet. Something uniquely Z. When she pulled back, Zirah dropped her forehead to my chest.

  I tucked her hair behind her ear, sifting my hands through the silky strands. “Why don’t you get a shower and change? We’ll go get some breakfast.”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

  I patted her ass, giving it an extra squeeze just because. Z laughed, shaking her head at me, and disappeared into the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, a fresh-faced and wet-haired Zirah emerged. She wore a pair of jeans and a shirt that read I listen to dead people with the faces of Bach, Beethoven, and Mozart underneath.

  Trina had gotten her the shirt. We’d had to explain the reference to her as she’d never seen The Sixth Sense.

  “Ready?” Z asked.

  I stood and tucked my phone in my pocket, a smile kicking my lips up.

  Z frowned at me, pulling her hair back into a low ponytail. “What?”

  “That was fast.” If she were any of my exes, I would have been waiting at least an hour. Probably more. None of them had ever left the house without every hair in place, a full face of makeup, and a carefully chosen outfit.

  The differences between this woman and all the others struck me time and again. And damned if she wasn’t more beautiful because of those differences. She didn’t leave me waiting. I could touch her and feel the softness of her skin. Granted, she’d looked amazing yesterday all done up. But I honestly liked this version more.

  This was the woman I’d fallen in lo—

  Shit. Damn. Was I really thinking this? Was I really pulling this pre-pubescent teenage girl crap? All hearts and flowers and sap?

  Zirah walked over, completely unaware of the thoughts spinning through my head, and held out her hand. “I hurried. You were waiting.”

  Swallowing, I took her hand. Threading my fingers through her cool ones, I brought her hand to my mouth and brushed my lips over her skin. She smelled like strawberries. I wondered what she’d taste like covered in whipped cream. And just like that, I was hard.

  I wanted her again. My balls ached with it.<
br />
  I told my dick to calm down. She had to be sore.

  Last night, and this morning, had been a surprise. The ground under me had shifted when I slid inside her for the first time. I’d never been someone’s first before.

  That she gave that to me … trusted me that much.

  Damn it. I really was falling for this girl. Or maybe, I’d already fallen. And as corny as it was, I never wanted to get up.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Insecurity

  Dennis

  I wasn’t much of a cook, but I loved to eat. The combination meant I knew all the best places to grab good food that didn’t cost an arm and a leg. No Yolking Around was my favorite breakfast place in town. Aside from the horrible name, the place did great breakfasts, was within walking distance of Ink’d, and had a view of Lincoln Park.

  The hostess sat me and Z in a booth by the window overlooking the flower gardens bursting with color. Fall flowers filled the beds in rich autumn hues of red, orange, and yellow. Z’s gaze drifted to the window and I watched her.

  She wasn’t okay. Her brother’s visit bothered her more than she was saying. I wasn’t sure if it was him, or that him being here brought up old hurts.

  “Z?” I said gently.

  With a soft sigh, she turned those big eyes on me. “The view’s really pretty. I love the flowers.”

  Hesitating, I decided to take the opportunity to pull her out of the funk she’d fallen into the best way I could—in a public place at least—by distracting her. Conversation and food could do a lot to turn her mood around.

  Maybe it was selfish of me, but I wanted my happy girl back.

  I nodded toward the window. “Ty and Phini got married there. A little over a year ago.”

  “They’ve only been married a year?” she asked, glancing back at the park.

  “Yeah. She’s only been back in town a little over that. I followed shortly after when Ty offered me an ownership stake in Ink’d.”