Chapter 15 – “Heavenly” - Cigarettes After Sex
ELENA
“HEAVENLY” - CIGARETTES AFTER SEX
AGE TWENTY-FOUR - FEbrUARY
Rain pelts the pavement as I jog across the street, its scent overpowering the smell of the ocean in a surprisingly pleasant way.
I run around the backside of the Boardwalk, careful not to catch the attention of my brothers through the window of their soon-to-be surf shop. I might stop in and check out their progress when I’m done, but speaking with August is my priority right now.
We haven’t talked since we kissed in the dark two weeks ago. Since he told me he’s in love with me. That he has always been in love with me.
I wanted to take more time to grieve my relationship with Zach, to consider what it would mean to take things with August to the next level.
He has been my best friend my entire life, and I’m not sure who I would be if not for him, and regardless of anything else, I can’t lose that.
I also can’t ignore the repercussions of jumping from the arms of one brother to another, but I was clear with Zach that I wouldn’t wait for him, that I’d move on if he left.
Sure, moving on with his brother might make me kind of an asshole, but it’s clear Zach has known the way August has felt about me all this time, and he continued keeping me on his hook anyway.
He dangled me in front of his brother like I was something to show off, something to possess just because he could, even if he didn’t really want me.
Knowing that should make me feel bitter.
It should break my heart and make me rage, but it doesn’t.
Honestly, it just makes me feel tired—tired of wasting so much of my life, all of my energy, on someone who never truly saw me.
All I want now is to turn that energy toward the one person who has always looked at me clearly, who never tried to change my colors or pluck my petals. The person who has loved me all along.
Since that kiss, I see it—see him—every time I close my eyes.
I feel him when I touch my lips, when my hand slips between my legs in the middle of the night.
I’ve always known I had an attraction to August, one I refused to explore, but now, it’s like something inside me has been awakened, and I’m consumed by him entirely.
It was for the sake of our friendship, and both of our hearts, that I’ve stayed away the last two weeks, thinking and overthinking every scenario and outcome of the predicament we’ve found ourselves in.
I’ve realized there is no part of me that doesn’t want to take this risk and explore whatever has bloomed between us.
There are only parts of me that know I’d regret it if I never tried.
The back door to the last suite on the Boardwalk is unlocked, and I slip inside quietly, wiping my feet on the welcome mat before following the narrow hallway that leads to the front of what will soon become his tattoo parlor.
The open space is nearly empty, save for a few tray tables, two benches, a chair, and a reception desk near the front. There isn’t any art on the walls or decor up yet. There also isn’t any August, though I was sure I saw his Bronco parked behind the building.
“Augustus?” I call out, turning slowly around the building.
A moment later, he comes around the corner I imagine leads to some kind of back office.
His brows are furrowed beneath his glasses, and a smile blooms across his face when he realizes it’s me.
August leans against the wall, crossing his arms. My eyes rake up his body, starting at the worn Converse on his feet, his black jeans, the white T-shirt hanging off his slim, tall frame, tight over his toned, tattooed arms.
He’s smirking at me now as he realizes I was checking him out, and I don’t even care because goddamn , he’s hot as hell.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” I respond, suddenly out of breath.
I inhale deeply, willing confidence as I prepare myself for what I have planned.
I’m about to ask for something I’ve honestly wanted for a while, something I’ve always known I’d only trust August to do, but the meaning behind it is completely different now.
“I came by because I was hoping I could get a service done.”
He raises a brow. “I can tattoo you at home.”
“Not a tattoo.” I shake my head. “Piercing.” August is licensed in body piercing, too. He’s done my septum and a few on my ears. I know he also did his own nose and ears.
He tilts his head, pushing off the wall. “What do you want pierced?”
I swallow thickly, my stomach knotting in a mix of anticipation, excitement, and a little fear, too.
Fear of rejection, mostly. Reaching deep, I find the confidence that only comes alive when I’m in his presence and reach for the zipper at the center of my chest. Slowly, I drag it down, opening my sweatshirt to reveal nothing but bare skin.
Something between a gasp and a moan leaves August’s mouth as his jaw drops open. His pupils blow wide, chest heaving as he takes in the view of my breasts for the first time.
“Will… Will you pierce my nipples?”
Gaze completely stuck on my chest, he licks his lips several times before he speaks again. His eyes drag up to my face so slowly, it almost seems painful. “I…” He blinks at me, clearing his throat as he shakes his head. “Are… Are you sure?”
I nod.
August drags his bottom lip over his teeth, glancing at my tits again.
His eyes fall closed, and he takes a deep breath, as if gathering his composure.
It does fucking wonders for my ego. He shakes his head again, gesturing to the chair in the corner of the room.
“Go sit down. I’ll uh…I’ll get the supplies. ”
He makes no notion to move, still staring with a bright fire blazing in his green eyes. I can’t stop the smile that springs to my cheeks as I close my sweatshirt over my chest, and his gaze snaps up to mine, a faint blush running up his neck.
I walk past him, finding the chair he referenced and lying back on it. The rain outside creates a cascade of water on the windows, and the low lighting and back corner give us plenty of privacy from anyone walking by, but a small thrill races down my spine at the exposure.
August wheels over a metal tray with gloves, gauze, some kind of sanitizing solution, two needles, and two pieces of jewelry: small bars with beads on either end. His hands are shaking as he slips the black gloves on. I let my zip-up fall off my shoulders once more, baring my chest to him.
He sprays the sanitizer on a cotton pad before turning to me, voice tortured as he rasps, “You’re positive about this?”
I nod but reach out to grab his forearm. “I don’t want the first time you touch me like this to be with a cotton pad and gloves between your skin and mine.”
August swallows. “I’m trying to be professional.”
“Professionally, aren’t you supposed to make sure my nipples are stimulated?”
He licks his lips. “I have a clamp.”
“I don’t want a clamp, Augustus. I want your hands.”
“Fuck.” With that, he rips the gloves off, eyes glossing as he leans over me, cupping one hand behind my neck and pulling my head toward him. He forces my gaze to his, doesn’t let me look away, but I jump at the soft flick of sensation across my breast. “Is this what you wanted?”
“Yes,” I breathe, that electric feeling cascading down past my stomach and settling in my core.
“Do you actually want to be pierced, Elena? Or were you looking for an excuse to get me to touch your pretty tits?” His breath skates across my jaw, sending chills down my spine as his palm flattens against my breast, squeezing deliciously.
“Both,” I moan.
He laughs roughly, letting go of me as he steps back, slipping a new pair of gloves on his hands before sanitizing my skin.
Knots form in my stomach as he reaches for the needle, pulling it from the sterile pouch before doing the same with the jewelry.
My throat is a little dry, and my entire body is tensing in anticipation of the pain.
August unscrews one of the balls on the bar before turning back to me. “Look at me, Elena.” My eyes shoot to his, and he steps over me, taking my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it back and forth. “It’s just like when I did your nose and your cartilage. No different.”
“I have sensitive nipples,” I breathe.
He smirks. “I’ll remember that for later then.”
He pinches me lightly, and I gasp at the pain, though the way his eyes blaze through me, mixed with his familiar rain-and-pine scent and the feel of him touching me, sends an entirely different sensation across my skin.
Pain mixed with something primal, something I think I might crave.
Maybe it’s just him.
“Keep your eyes on me, baby.” Fuck . I like the way that sounds rolling off his lips.
August nods toward me. “Play with your other tit. Look at me and touch yourself like that.” There is so much heat in his gaze, I melt beneath it, brushing my thumb across my breast, my chest expanding with each rapid breath. “Does that feel good?”
I nod.
“Good.” I see his hands moving, but I refuse to look at them, all my focus remains on his burning eyes and his full, wet lips—desperate to feel them on me again. “Focus on that. Focus on my voice and how good it feels to play with yourself.”
His eyes drop, but before I’m able to register it, a sharp, stinging pain radiates across my flesh, followed by an excruciating burn that has me gasping.
“Sorry, baby. I’m sorry. I’ve got you.” His voice transforms that pain into electric zaps of pleasure that gather low in my stomach, and suddenly, my clit is fucking throbbing.
August turns behind him, grabbing something off the tray before twisting the bar now through my nipple and taking a step back. The pain dulls into a low burn as my adrenaline bottoms out. “I’m going to move fast with this next one because you’re anticipating it now.”
I’m not sure what noise I intended to make, but it floats from my throat like a moan.
August pauses, smirking at me. “Almost sounds like you liked the pain.”