Chapter Sixteen
Calli
My body is flush all over and my breath is coming so fast I’m lightheaded, still trying to figure out how I’m lying here in this bed. This was not supposed to happen again. I got what I needed from Garrett the first time.
The usual crowd was in the pub, and we’d been having a good time.
Spotting him across the bar on my way back from the ladies’ room was a shock. Even more so, the rush of jealousy, seeing those women with him.
It was them who made me walk over. Like I have a right to make them back off. For all I know, he encouraged it and wanted one of them. The relief when he didn’t bother answering them and kept his full attention on me should have been a warning.
After our talk at the festival, and his dismissal when I told him part of the nightmare my life was, I never imagined I’d be in his bed. Yet here I am, letting this man do whatever he wants with my body.
And loving every moment.
Garrett’s teeth caress my nipple, his hands holding my wrists above my head.
He’s still buried deep inside of me, rolling his hips as he nips at the crystal on my piercing. That sensation alone makes me cry out again. Garrett lifts his head and smirks at me.
He stops moving inside me and pulls away, using his knees to slide back until he is standing. Reaching forward, he grabs my ankles and drags me down the bed.
The sheets bunch beneath me as he plants my feet on the ground and presses his hands onto the comforter.
All I can do is watch him as he bends forward, putting his face in front of mine. His eyes flick back forth, like he’s trying to get inside of my mind.
Why did he come to the pub? What did he want to happen? Was he there looking for me?
All questions I’m dying to ask him, but I bite my tongue. Like I’ve done since we got back here. I’ve barely strung a sentence together.
I don’t know what Garrett thinks as he stares at me, or what his intentions are. He’s always so intense. Which is why it’s such a shock to see a different look in his eyes, a softening.
Instead of overthinking the moment, I grab the back of his head and pull him close, pressing my lips against his. Garrett kisses me back. He grabs my hips and pulls me to a standing position, bringing my body flush against his.
His skin is hot and when his arms go around me, I welcome the crush of his body. He lifts me off my feet again, but our mouths don’t let up. He turns me around and pulls me so my back is to his chest and his lips devour my neck and throat.
Beneath my ear has always been a wildly erogenous zone for me. Garrett makes a satisfied sound as my body convulses under his touch, even with no other stimulation.
Still recovering from yet another out of the blue climax, he sits down and spreads my legs around his knees.
He doesn’t force his way back in, slowly lowering me onto his cock until my ass is pressed onto his lap. Holding me still, he brushes my hair away from my neck and nuzzles into me again.
Lightly, his fingers trace my neck. “Does this always make you come so hard?”
“Clearly,” I mutter.
His dark chuckle has me shifting. The need to move is overwhelming me. Garrett holds me still, my waist in his iron grasp.
“Good to know,” he rasps into my ear.
What does that mean? For future reference? He thrusts up, shocking that thought out of my head. I’m like a rag doll in his hold, my head lolling back onto his shoulder as he does all the work, pushing up and down, lifting me when he needs to, toying with my piercings, and then my clit.
It’s too much. I can’t take it anymore. My feet scramble against his calves and I moan. It sounds desperate, the pleasure is too much.
“Fuck yeah,” he grunts and buries his face into my neck. His cock pulses and his hands tighten on my hips again as he comes.
I’m so done, my body doesn’t want to move. Garrett instinctively knows I need a moment. Even as his cock softens, it remains inside me, until our mixed release soaks onto our thighs.
Garrett helps me to a standing position, getting up immediately and holding me steady. His quiet rumble of laughter makes me elbow his ribs. Yes, I am having trouble standing after that. I will not bother denying it.
The term fucked to within an inch of my life finally makes sense.
He walks around the bed and opens a bureau drawer, taking out a clean pair of underwear. My clothes are strewn across the floor. Embarrassment flushes my cheeks, remembering how damn fast I stripped when he told me to.
Unsure, I head to where my top is, but Garrett holds out a T-shirt. Okay… That is unexpected. After slipping it on, I tug the hem down, even though it’s large enough to cover my ass.
Garrett points out the bathroom and leaves the room. I turn to the pile of clothes. I’d feel a little more comfortable in my panties, so scoop them up.
Oh fuck, I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving. How long have I been here? What if they think something happened to me? There are no calls or texts on the phone. That’s weird.
I fire off a quick text to Sin, telling her not to worry about me, then close the bathroom door.
What do I do now? The men I’ve slept with in the past have always been someone I’m in a relationship with. The awkward moments after haven’t been an issue before.
My phone pings with a text.
Sin:
I know. I saw him
Sin:
Don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone. Hope he’s drilling you into the bed
Calli:
Jesus. Stop it
Sin:
Don’t say that to him
Sin:
Call me tomorrow. I mean it
Locking the screen, I push the phone back into my jeans, then clean up and pull on my panties. He definitely didn’t pull out this time. Stupid, but kinda hot too. I trust him. Garrett has never pretended to be anything other than what he is.
I leave the jeans on the bed and put the rest of my stuff on top of them.
Looking around the room, I’m surprised it’s well lived in, not at all how I imagined. This is his space, his home, and it’s comfortable, decorated in white and navy with things lying around on the surfaces. All in their place, he’s not messy.
There is a painting on the wall over the bureau. Garrett definitely painted that. I’d recognize his style anywhere. It shows shadowy figures in a forest, but the lines are perfect. There is nothing abstract about it. It’s not the woman he has drawn so many times in his sketch pad.
He calls my name, and I head out of the bedroom, down a short hallway back into the living space. I didn’t get to see much of it on the way in, given I was thrown over his shoulder.
The rest of the apartment looks as lived in, and I wonder how long he’s been here. I didn’t know he lived above the tattoo shop. Garrett is holding two glasses of water, one of which I gratefully accept. He leans back against the counter, very reminiscent of our last tryst at my apartment.
Instead of talking, I walk across the open space of the living room and go to the window. If it’s possible, I can feel his eyes on me as I walk away. My self-consciousness rears its ugly head.
God, get it together, Calli. You’re not this na?ve, scared person. It’s sex. The man has had you in the most intimate of places, now is not the time to be shy.
It’s still early enough that the streets are busy with people enjoying their Friday night. I don’t hear any noise and touch the window. They’re double pane, so block out the noise and cold. They’re the windows I recommend to clients when I’m…
“You okay?”
The sound of his voice so near makes me jump. He lifts his brows in question.
“For someone so big, you move really quietly,” I remark.
“I’ve heard that before,” he mutters.
It sounds like there is more to that statement, but I don’t know how to phrase it into a question that doesn’t come across as invasive.
“I was admiring the windows.”
I’m still touching the glass, and pull my hand back. Garrett takes a few long gulps of his water before setting the glass down on a low table beside the window. Touching my elbow, he encourages me over to the couch. He sits in the corner and watches as I join him at the other end. I pull my legs up and tug the T-shirt over my knees.
It’ll be stretched to hell, but if he’s concerned, he doesn’t say anything.
“People rarely take an interest in my windows when they come up here.”
“I’m not your average hook-up,” I joke. Partially. I mean, this is another hook-up. Don’t go getting any silly ideas.
“It’s an architecture thing?” he asks.
“Yeah. They’re a good brand.”
He smirks with a slight shake of his head. “About that,” he says after a moment. “Sorry we got interrupted the other night. You said some things that were difficult for you, and I got distracted by a phone call and Lucky’s big mouth.”
“It’s okay.” I look into my glass. “I’m not expecting deep conversations.”
“I am capable of them,” he says.
“Never would have guessed.” I smile at him before looking away again.
“It’s shitty what happened. Especially to someone so talented. Is there no way you’ll get back into it here, in a new city?”
“You’d be surprised by how small the industry is.” I shrug one shoulder, enough that the neck of the T-shirt slips slightly, bearing my skin.
Garrett studies it for a moment. Given how hard he was sucking and nibbling there earlier, I’m sure there is a mark.
It was stupid not to think he’d look me up. I guess, given he shrugged me off so quickly that night, I didn’t think he cared. Which means he knows about Jared.
“Did you look at my work?” I ask, instead of dwelling on that elephant between us.
If he researched me, he’ll know we’re divorced. I paid a lot of money, what little I had left, to get that rushed through.
“I did. It’s impressive.”
“Thanks.” I try to keep the sadness out of my voice, but it’s difficult. “People told me to pick a style. I guess, I like all different architecture and never wanted to be known for one particular style. Plus, I listened to what my clients wanted.”
“Wouldn’t that mean it was harder for people to recognize your work?”
“That’s what I liked about it,” I half grin. “I didn’t conform to the usual standards.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” Garrett watches me sip my drink, a slight frown marring his brow. “I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t tattoo anymore.”
“Well, you have a talent too. You could use it in other ways.”
His finger taps against his bare knee. God, he’s sitting there, barely covered. Unconsciously, I lick my lips, my mouth dry. He’s taken me to heights I’ve never felt before. Pleasured me so much I couldn’t take any more. It’s strange sitting here, wearing his shirt and chatting.
“It’s hard making a living out of being an artist. Besides, if I couldn’t tattoo anymore, it would be because my hands no longer worked. And,” he holds them up and looks at them. “I couldn’t draw or paint without them either.”
“What made you become a tattooist?”
“Kind of fell into it,” he says with a non-committal shrug. “I was getting out of another career that wasn’t working for me. While I was getting a tattoo, I got interested.”
“What career?” I ask, not sure he is going to actually answer.
He pauses, and I think he is going to silence his way out of telling me anything. Then he surprises me. “I was in the army.”
“You were?” My eyes widen. Garrett looks over at me. “You know what, I can see that,” I add with a slight laugh. He gives me a wry grin. “How did you get out?”
“It wasn’t straightforward, but I went into an admin role early on.”
“Oh, so you weren’t a soldier.”
“Not when I discharged out,” he says. Another moment of hesitation means there is something he isn’t saying.
It’s not my place to pry. Especially with the secrets I’m keeping.
“The owner needed help at his shop, and I wanted to learn. It worked for both of us.”
“And now you own this place?”
“Part own.”
Oh yeah, Lucky said Phoenix is his partner. There is a tattoo on his forearm of the shop logo, with writing around the tattoo. Blackhawk Disciples. What is that?
Before I can ask, Garrett speaks. “Sounds like your ex is a special kind of prick.”
I choke on the water and cover my mouth to stop spitting it everywhere. Garrett seems amused. I set the glass on the coffee table and look over my shoulder at him.
“The worst,” I say eventually.
“You hear about assholes doing shit like that all the time. I can’t imagine doing it to family.”
“That isn’t even the worst of it,” I mutter. Then freeze. Shit. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.
“What?” Garrett leans forward.
“Nothing,” I blurt.
Time to go. Getting to my feet, and careful not to knock over the glass of water, I head for the bedroom. I’m almost fully dressed when I realize Garrett is standing in the doorway watching me. His arms are folded, his shoulder leaning against the doorframe.
That inscrutable gaze of his bores into me. Half naked, he is even more intimidating. All that skin and ink on show.
“I touched a nerve,” he says.
“It’s nothing.” I wave a hand. “But I should go. It’s late.”
He stares at me some more while I pull on my sandals, then he grabs his jeans.
“What are you doing?”
“Do you think I’m letting you leave alone?”
“I can get a cab,” I argue back.
“I can give you a ride.”
“You don’t need to.”
“Calli.”
I want to get away from him.
“I’m taking you home,” he comes right up to me, puts his hand on my waist and leans close to my ear. “I will never force you to tell me something you’re afraid to. But I won’t let you walk away into potential danger.”
“Danger?” I whisper.
“There are a lot of scary ass people in the world. And I’m not the kind of guy who would let any woman be alone at this time of night.”
Well, that isn’t as surprising as it should be. I’ve seen how he takes care of his staff. Especially Lucky. Whether or not he knows it, he looks out for her. It makes sense he’d do the same for the woman he brought back to his place.
I’m not even sure he would have kicked me out if I didn’t freak out first. Sure, he left my apartment the first time, but that was different. This is different.
He goes to the closet and grabs a hoodie, tossing it to me. “Put that on. It’s cold on the back of a bike.”
“The back of a bike?” I blurt.
He doesn’t answer, just grabs his phone and keys and leaves me standing in his bedroom with my mouth hanging open.
When I get my feet to unstick, we head down the back staircase. This time I take more time to notice things, like the door with a glass window that leads into the shop. And the private room where we had our first… moment. And I did that other thing.
Jesus. How had I forgotten that?
Garrett is propping the door open for me, holding on to two helmets. I snap out of the mortification and step out into the back alley. His bike is parked off to the side, his car is a little further away. For a moment, I wonder why he isn’t taking the car, then he strides to the bike and swings his leg over it.
And my ovaries constrict. Holy fucking shit, that was hot. Any fear of getting on the back of that thing flitters away when he crooks his fingers for me to come over.
Sin is going to lose her shit when she hears about all of this. I mean, would it be wrong to say I changed my mind and go back upstairs?
Garrett positions me in front of him and puts the helmet on me. It’s not like a regular bicycle helmet. It’s heavier, and a lot tighter around my face. He makes sure he has done it up properly, then takes my hand, twisting around to help me.
He tells me where to put my feet and that I need to hold on to him. Tightly. I do as he said, and wait while he puts on his helmet, then he starts up the bike. The rumble between my legs has my thighs clenching all over again.
I wobble a little when he uses his heel to move the kickstand. He turns to me again, as far as he can with our bodies so close.
“Calli, I said, hold on tight.”
“I am.”
He takes my hands and pulls them around him. But apparently that isn’t enough, because one of his hands snakes under my knee and he runs it backward beneath my thigh. With one unexpected tug, he pulls my body forward until it’s flush against his.
Hopefully, he didn’t hear the moan that slipped out over the roar of the bike. When he turns the bike, then throttles the engine and picks up speed, I have no choice but to hold on.
For the first five minutes of the ride, my eyes are squeezed tight. Instead of watching everything whizzing past, I focus on the scent of his hoodie, the feel of his body pressed to mine.
It crosses my mind to slide my hand down and see if he is feeling the same way I am right now, but I don’t want to cause an accident. Besides, what are the chances he randomly pops an erection while riding his bike?
No, it’s me being insanely turned on by this. So much so I forget to be scared.
When we pull up outside my place, it’s difficult to let go. I’m grateful for his support when I try to get off. He dismounts and helps me with the helmet.
“Thanks for the ride,” I tell him. “Both of them.”
He ducks his head and chuckles. Holy shit, he has dimples. I can’t believe how many times I’ve been around him and not seen that before.
“No problem, on either count.”
I don’t want to leave this with him making the last crack. I think back on the earlier conversation. About piercing me. I’ll never do it. I don’t care what Katja says about the pleasure you get from it, because nipples are more than enough. Still, it’s fun to leave him with a visual.
“You pierce as well as tattoo?”
His head tilts to one side. “Don’t fucking mess with me,” he steps closer. “Not when you already let someone else do this,” he presses his thumb against my breast, moving it around until it makes contact with the piercing.
My teeth clamp down on my bottom lip as the urge to moan comes again. Damn, these really are worth every second of the initial pain. His lips graze my ear as he continues to caress my nipple.
“No one else will pierce you, ever. You want anything else done, you come to me. Got it.”
Bossy Garrett is doing it for me. I’m on the verge of dragging him inside when he looks over my shoulder at something in my building. Before I can turn, he puts his hand to the back of my neck and pulls me into him, kissing me. I melt. Like a fool.
After thoroughly kissing the shit out of me, he steps back and I touch my lips. Whatever caught his attention is gone now, because he hasn’t taken his eyes off me.
Out of nowhere, he slaps my ass. “Be good, Calli.”
Before I can protest, not that I want to mind you, he walks back to his bike and puts his helmet back on. He points at my building, his meaning clear.
Can’t a girl stand and swoon as she watches the hot guy drive off on his motorcycle? Given he isn’t moving, I guess not. I walk inside. Garrett doesn’t pull away until the door is closed. Even then, he waits a little longer.
The sound of the engine disappearing into the night leaves me disappointed. If my brain wasn’t occupied with him before, I don’t know how I’m going to focus on anything but him now.