Chapter Five #2
I lean back against his arm to watch him smile smugly. He watches my expression as his hand continues sliding over my thigh.
“Maybe I should close early,” my eyes drop to his lips.
“Oh? Why is that?” He raises a brow, looking bold as hell and all mine.
“Maybe I want to spend some time with a dog. I’ve thought about adopting one,” I smirk.
“When did that start?” His brows are starting to lower, getting grumpy at whatever he’s imagining. I can’t have that.
“Hmmm, let me think,” I glance away, pretending to look thoughtful while I hide my glee at his unnecessary jealousy. “Oh yeah. When a man came in all by his lonesome, acting all shy before he started stripping just for me. He even undid his pants. I think that’s about the time I started appreciating dogs more.”
“You’re a menace,” he chuckles as he puts the clues together.
“And you’ve been a tease from the start, but I like it,” I rebut and give him a quick kiss that surprises him. “I don’t mind a little barking, cher . It’s when you show teeth that I’ll fight dirty.”
His jealousy may be cute, but I won’t put up with it if he goes overboard. It’s a warning and a promise. He seems to know it, too, because his eyes narrow.
“I’ve had my shots. I’ll be fine if you bite.”
I blink at his response, trying not to laugh. “Did you just imply that I’m rabid?”
“No,” he lies with a smile.
We banter for a few more hours, relaxing into the feeling of each other. He doesn’t take advantage, which disappoints me. I’m dying to have his hands all over me.
I do end up closing the shop early because no one comes in. We pass the other tattoo shops, bursting with people on the way to the diner. I try not to let on how depressed that makes me and focus on taking his hand in mine to drag him along. We’re at the diner before he can process that he just got dognapped.
I order two cones to go while the cashier eyes Poe with a flirty look. He walks around me to pay for it, surprising me. My ex wouldn’t do that. Good thing he’s nothing like him.
His shoulders are getting stiffer the longer she stares at him. He won’t look at her directly, keeping his eyes on me. Like he’s waiting for my reaction to the cute woman’s subtle interest.
I glance at him to find him stone-faced, watching me with narrowed eyes.
The last time someone showed interest in him, I backed off and left him alone. Damon said he didn’t like it. Poe changed his behavior without a word said. I guess I have to prove myself as possessive as he is.
I slide in front of him with a sweet smile, regaining her attention. Her eyes are full of confusion when she looks me up and down.
He’s dressed in his silky, fancy attire while I’m in ripped-up jeans and a raccoon shirt. We look like oil and water, but we mix just fine.
“I’m sorry, girly. The only cone he’s licking is mine,” I give her a fake pout. “He even paid for it. I can’t let him down now.”
Poe makes a choked sound before he starts chuckling. His arms wrap around me, pressing me into his body. A declaration that he’s happy about my interference.
When she scoffs and marches away with her hips swinging, I let my smile come back.
“Check for spit, cher . She seems feisty,” I gloat.
He makes a disgusted sound, but doesn’t let me go.
She wasn’t too bad with her flirting. Her interest was in passing. The performance was for Poe, but that little mocking laugh was a bit much for me. I may have started it, but she upped the game. I can be petty as hell without any shame as well as she can.
I look down at the small plastic trash can by the register and casually knock it over with the tip of my shoe. Receipts tumble out to make a lovely mess. I swish my foot around to spread it.
The sound of Poe’s laughter at my childish antics is everything to me. Gone is the solemn, straightforward man. In his place is someone who might be able to let loose soon. I can’t wait to see that. I’ll knock over trash cans for him all he likes.
We both look as innocent as lambs when she comes back. Her eyes fall to the trash can and back to me.
“Thanks so much!” I chirp, snatching the cones away to walk out.
I make a big production of checking both cones, making him laugh again.
“My man likes vanilla,” I hand his ice cream over with a pout. “Not even a sprinkle. Have you never experimented before?”
“I know what I like,” he banters back with a sly smile.
“Are you sure?” I wiggle my brows and take a slow lick of my chocolate and vanilla coated with caramel. I twist my tongue across the top as he watches and lick my lips slowly after.
“Siren,” he says in a soft tone of warning. It does nothing to hide the need underneath.
“Don’t leave me hanging, yappy. It’s your turn,” I smirk.
His eyes narrow as I start moving backward, leading him down the sidewalk.
He keeps pace like he’s stalking me. My feet stick when his tongue wraps around the tip of the soft serve. His mouth opens to suck on it next, his eyes never leaving mine. He gives me a satisfied smirk when he pulls the cone away.
“Look who turns sweet after a treat,” I breathe, my face feeling hot.
He takes my hand to spin me around with a happy smile that’s lopsided. My body gets pressed to his side as his arm circles my waist.
“Where to next?” He asks, perfectly content while he tortures me with an ice cream make-out session.
“My place,” I assure him grimly and put my arm around him to start tugging him forward at a faster pace.
He digs his heels in with a smile, pretending to be oblivious to my need to get him alone. It makes me laugh the whole way to the apartment. I haven’t enjoyed myself this much in a long time.
We get to my door faster than I thought we would, despite our silent tug-of-war. It isn’t until I fish my keys out that I balk. He sees it and raises a brow, but doesn’t comment. He’s too busy seducing his ice cream and me by proxy.
“I need to warn you about something,” I chew my lip.
“Go on,” he narrows his eyes, the ice cream forgotten.
“I have a very minor obsession with raccoons,” I look over to see him struggling with a smile. “Stop laughing.”
“I think that’s already been established,” he chokes out and bravely tries to stifle his humor.
I give him a glare for his attempt at a dry tone. “If you can’t handle it, bail out now.”
“Are there adopted raccoons everywhere?” His lips tilt into a smile.
“Yeah,” I tell him boldly. “Brace yourself for greatness.”
My bravado lasts until I swing open the door, and he takes a step into the apartment. When I flick on the lights, his feet freeze. The way he tenses and stops moving has my heart beating hard with sudden dread.
He stands in the doorway, staring with a raised brow. I look around with a wince. There’s no way I could hide this many plushies. It’s beyond a hobby and into a packrat kind of obsession. I’m seeing it for the first time through someone else’s eyes. He’s the only man I’ve ever brought to my place. It’s more than a little concerning that I didn’t even tidy up first.
Raccoon plushies are everywhere. On the TV stand, couch, and in the pile I like to dive into. There are two lying on the table. My bedroom is an absolute nightmare of them thrown everywhere. Thank God the door is shut. I made a mistake going with my impulse to get him here as fast as possible.
“Minor,” he mutters thoughtfully. His eyes slide to me while I blush at his side.
“Tada,” I wave a hand with a shamed smile. “Welcome to the raccoon hideout.”
“Thank you.” His reply is formal and stiff. His trembling lips prove he’s trying not to laugh. He clears his throat.
“Don’t say it, I already know,” I glare.
“I’m honored to be here, everyone,” he says, addressing the plushies.
“Stop that,” I pinch his side in revenge, but he doesn’t react to it.
“Tell me you named them all.”
He walks inside and removes his jacket, focusing entirely on all the stuffed animals everywhere. He moves his arm as if he’s setting his coat on one of the dining table chairs and misses. I watch it drop to the floor in surprise. Poe doesn’t seem to notice, too busy doing something on his phone. It isn’t until I hear the faint snick of a shutter that I realize he’s taking pictures.
“I’ve named a few,” I raise a brow, and hang his jacket up for him.
I wasn’t anticipating this reaction at all. He’s not running for his life. He’s relishing in my crazy.
“Which ones?” He asks absently.
He moves the two on the table into the chairs and repositions the salt and pepper shakers. What’s left of his ice cream cone gets placed where it can be propped up by a fuzzy paw. He then squats down to take another picture while I admire his backside.
“You look good busy, cher ,” I hum.
“Uh-huh.”
“You listening to me?” I test.
“Uh-huh.”
He isn’t. He’s really into his pictures. I’m a little jealous of the attention he’s giving them. Outdone by my own obsession.
He doesn’t even comment when I add my cone to the raccoon opposite and slide away. His finger never stops clicking the button.
I flick on the lamp, fall into the mass of plushies, and watch him work, giving up on seduction for the moment.
He must take a million pictures, posing them this way and that. He’s got his laser focus on, his mind miles away from me. He looks through a few photos with a frown and moves to reposition the ones on the couch.
I’m watching him pace around with a stern grace that seems martial in its intensity. No moves wasted. Quick, decisive positioning. He even plays with the lights to get what he needs for the photo. When he keeps frowning, I reach out and turn off the lamp next to me.
The frown disappears as he mutters, “Much better.”
Now I’m in the dark watching a madman play with raccoon plushies. His crazy turns out to match mine perfectly.
I imagine this is how I look when I tattoo. Complete, dedicated focus on the art in front of me. The things I need, the angles and colors. We’re the same in so many ways and so different too.
He’s too stiff all the time. Too intense. I’m lazy and like to make a joke out of everything. Yin and yang. We mesh so well it’s a little scary.
I’m comfortable watching him work with a smile.
A little later, I wake up to the sound of pictures snapping much closer to me.
I open my eyes to take Poe in as he stands above my head with his feet braced apart, taking photos of my groggy wake-up. I don’t bother getting up. One of the raccoons has its nose pressed against my cheek, so I push it back. It doesn’t work out because it falls right back where it was.
“You should have stopped me,” he grumbles, lowering the phone to stare at me. His intensity is gone, replaced by soft indulgence.
“Why?” I stretch my arms out with a yawn. “You were having fun, and I liked seeing it.”
“You liked it so much you fell asleep,” he raises a mocking brow.
“I didn’t sleep well last night. I’m catching up while you play.”
“What happened?” He tucks his phone away to give me all of his attention. That focus is back, his humor gone.
Thinking about it tries to take away all my enjoyment of my time with him, but I’m not having it. Not today. I just got him. I’m not driving him away with all my drama.
“It was trash pickup today. I had to hurry to get the cans knocked down in the cover of darkness,” I whisper with wide eyes.
“Really,” he deadpans.
“The hardest part is washing off all the dark makeup I use to blend in with the night. Applying it, too. So time-consuming.”
“Liar,” he smirks, letting it go without protest. His easy acceptance of my not-subtle lie makes me relax in my plushie bed.
“Come down here and say that to my face, yappy dog,” I crook my finger at him with a sly smile.
I’m surprised when he walks around the pile I’m stuck in until he reaches my feet. When he kicks my feet apart to make room for himself between my legs, my breath catches.
“Bold man,” I reach for him before he even starts leaning down to me.
He has more grace in getting down than I do. Carefully placing his knees and hands to test the give of the plushies. He settles his hips between my thighs and gives me some of his weight. We’re pressed together intimately as his face hovers above mine. He carefully sets the plush that had settled against my face aside.
“My turn,” he tells it softly with a glare.
It looks like I’m not the only one jealous of a raccoon plush.
“You got something to say?” I start off strong, though my voice is weak. He cuts me off with a kiss that drags me down into desire with barely a flick of his tongue.
“Warm enough for you?” He mutters and dives back in without waiting for a reply.
He’s more than warm. He’s burning me up.
My arms go around his neck to keep him close as I move my hips in invitation. Within a second, his erection is pressed to my core, rubbing across denim in a slow taunt. His groan runs across my lips before his kiss gets more intense. The weight of his body gets heavier, pressing us into the toys below.
We break apart to breathe, and a plush drops onto his head to bounce away.
“Shit,” he mutters, his eyes closed and body stiff.
I immediately wrap my legs around him. He’s withdrawing, and I don’t want that. My core pulses with a need that’s all for him.
“Not yet,” he says raggedly, his eyes opening to pierce me with his stare.
“Why not?” I move beneath him, trying to thaw him into melting for me again.
“So you don’t have an excuse to send me away. I’m not taking advantage while you’re vulnerable. I’m sticking around. Get used to it quickly, and the wait will be shorter.”
“I’ll cry,” I warn him with a pout, giddy at the mean reassurance he’s giving me. “That’s no way to start things off.”
“Addie,” he chuckles. The look he gives me is so adoring while I’m acting like a hussy. It does nothing to slow me down.
“Please?” I give him an innocent look and bite my lip.
“No.”
I start sniffling.
“I have to work early tomorrow so I can spend the rest of my day guarding trash cans,” he whispers with a wide grin. That weak excuse won’t wash with me.
“We'd better get to it then. I don’t want you to miss out on the good sleep you’ll get when I’m done pawing you.” I kick a heel into his backside to get him moving.
His surprised laugh shakes us both. A few more plushies land on us, breaking the mood from his intense refusal to be languid.
My body doesn’t cool down. It stays at a frustrating simmer. Waiting for him to set his manners aside and take me already.
I press a quick kiss to his grinning lips and let my head drop back dramatically, pretending to accept defeat.
“I knew you were a tease. I did this to myself.” I let out a long, whiney sigh.
He shifts as if he’s going to stand up, but I hang on him like a dead weight.
“You could always sleep here,” I offer with a sly smirk and a shift of my hips.
“We both know how that would end,” he huffs. I’m surprised he’s not pissed off that I won’t let go. He looks pleased at my clinging to him like a barnacle.
“Happily,” I nod solemnly. “But we can’t have that, can we? We have to mind our manners.”
“You have no idea how tempted I am, siren,” he mutters raggedly, dropping his forehead to mine. My eyes cross for a second before they close.
“Not enough to suit me,” I taunt softly.
“More than enough,” he retorts. “But this is more than sex, and I want that tattooed on you.”
“I have space on my butt for it,” I grin.
“I’m not joking, Addie,” he starts sounding angry.
“Hush, yappy dog,” I soothe him the only way I know how. “I’ll pretend to wait however long you want. Expect a lot of whining, though. And brace yourself for my awesome seduction techniques.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” he kisses me quickly and untangles himself as if he needs to get away from me before he gives in.
I admire him as he readjusts himself with a wince. He sees it and narrows his eyes at me.
“It’s a real shame you have to walk back like that, cher ,” I mock, staring at the erection straining his pants. “I could help you out, but it wouldn’t be polite.”
His eyes narrow more, even though he starts smiling. He looks at the floor by my side and leans down to pick up a plush.
“I’m taking this one.”
I sit up in surprise, my taunting deserting me while I take in the hostage situation unfolding in front of me.
“Why would you do that?” I’m confused about the logic here.
“One, it was all over you while you slept. If I leave it, I’ll get jealous. Two, I’m going to let it roam all over my place so that you will get jealous. It could be you chewing through my walls in the future. Think about it.”
“I’m already jealous you grabbed it instead of me,” I assure him with a laugh. He thinks I’ve been outplayed.
I offer him my hand with a pitiful pout. “Help me up, at least?”
He immediately reaches down and helps me. He tries to keep it casual, but I step into his body, rubbing against him as much as I can. I focus on pressing my breasts hard on his chest and shifting my hips along his, torturing myself with the feel of him. When I pass, I let my hand linger over his erection and rub up and down his length before drawing away.
“Oops,” I say innocently.
His eyes are burning with intensity while his jaw clenches.
“Three, I need cover to get back to my car, and Racer is now my assistant,” he says through clenched teeth.
I burst into laughter as he moves the plush in front of his straining erection.
“Racer?”
“It moves at super speed in relationships,” he cocks a brow at me.
“Maybe it wants the other party to know that it’s all in, without the depressing manners,” I taunt back. It comes out too serious, making his eyes widen in surprise.
To make up for the sudden shift in tone, I move to the door and open it for him. He chose his bed. He can lie in it for the night and stew just like I have to.
“Look at that. I found my manners. Until next time, cher ,” I grin.
He’s slow to leave and presses a chaste kiss to my lips. I lean out to watch him go and whistle.
His shoulders hike up when I call, “Look at that fine man! Poe try in motion and all mine. Yum yum!”
He graces me with a glare over his shoulder as his steps speed up.
“You look good running, too!”
When he disappears around a building, I sigh, my joy quickly deflating. Part of me didn't want him to leave, so this wouldn’t happen. Now I’m alone with my thoughts again.
Maybe he was right about waiting. I don’t want him feeling used.
It pisses me off that he might have been more accurate with my mood than I was. The burning arousal still lurking around makes it worse.
I take a look at my phone to see what I missed earlier and turn the ringer back on.
Asher: Night after tomorrow. Six. The diner.
I grin, my frustration falling away to be replaced with hope.
Cold or not, my brother is still a believer in me. It makes things look a little brighter.
I give him a thumbs-up and a raccoon emoji.