Eight
EIGHT
Kat
I rested my hands on the edge of the sink, tapping my fingernails against it, while staring at the uneasy look on my face in the mirror in Graham’s bathroom.
Was I really going to do this?
I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt so conflicted in my life.
Pushing off the sink, I paced the room and ran my fingers through the lock of hair draped over the front of my shoulder. Once I did this, I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t undo it.
I stopped pacing, turned to face the mirror again, and swallowed hard.
Then I puffed up my chest, balled my hands into fists, and felt the sense of purpose wash over me.
I had to end this.
I had to stop the madness.
Being completely honest with myself, it had been wrong from the start, and I’d gotten in way over my head with Graham.
I’d arrived here a while ago—it was my first time seeing him since he’d come to my place—and Graham did not mention anything about our awkward scene from a few days ago.
It was business as usual for him. He was as he’d always been with me when it came to us connecting physically. And if I hadn’t experienced first-hand what I had that day at my place, I wouldn’t have believed anything was wrong.
But since I had endured it, had lived through that embarrassment, I couldn’t ignore the way it made me feel.
The bottom line was that I couldn’t continue like this. The more time I spent with Graham only ever kissing, touching, teasing, and having sex, the more I wanted the other bits and pieces of him, parts he’d be reluctant to share, if I had to guess.
I wanted to know about his family and friends, his work, and his life. Simply, I just wanted to know him.
With a renewed sense of determination, I’d decided it was time to change things. I thought I wanted what I had with Graham, but deep down, this wasn’t who I was. I needed more. I wanted more.
And sure, I was terrified about where it might lead me, but I could feel that this wasn’t leading me anywhere good, either.
So, maybe I could do this once more. Maybe I could build something worthwhile and meaningful again. I just didn’t know if I’d chosen the man who’d be willing to give it to me.
Despite the possibility of failure, I was going to do it anyway. I’d merely go slow, weave little things in and do it in a way he might not realize it was happening. It wouldn’t be so obvious as asking him to stay for dinner. And maybe, if I could accomplish that, Graham would be just as eager to take a chance as I was.
After taking in one last deep breath, I turned and walked out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to head home.
Graham’s eyes met mine, and there was something that lingered in his gaze I couldn’t read. Something that looked like a mix of longing and pain and something else.
“I’ve got to get going,” I told him.
He inclined his head with understanding. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
I knew he would.
He always did.
We made our way there, and just before he reached around me to open the door for me, I said, “Oh, I almost forgot.”
“Forgot what?”
“What was it you said was wrong with my garage door button on the wall?” I asked him.
Without even thinking twice about his response, Graham answered, “I can’t guarantee it’s the problem, but since you said it’s working intermittently, it’s probably the contact.”
“The contact,” I repeated, nodding like I was filing that away. “And I think you said I could replace the whole thing or do something else. What was the other thing?”
“Soldering a new contact on. It just depends on what you find when you take it apart.”
I wasn’t going to do any of these things, but this conversation led me right to where I needed it to go. “Right. Soldering contacts. I need to remember that and do some research later. Thanks for telling me.”
He shook his head and waved his hand in the air dismissively. “It’s not a big deal at all.”
“You probably know all this because you’re an electrician or someone who works in construction, right?”
“No.”
My head dropped toward my shoulder. “Really? So, you’re an engineer, then?”
“I’m a tattoo artist, Kat.”
I hadn’t anticipated my efforts having such a profound and positive effect, but I was thrilled about it. Those five words had me throwing my head back with laughter. Maybe things weren’t as bad as I had presumed. Maybe Graham was willing to be playful with me outside of sex. Maybe going slow with it and not having such a direct approach—like asking him to stay for dinner—was precisely what needed to happen in order for this to be successful.
My eyes were brimming with tears of joy, and I struggled to catch my breath through the laughter, but as I worked to do that and returned my attention to Graham, my laughter died.
He wasn’t doing the same.
He didn’t even look remotely amused.
“You’re… you’re serious?”
“Yes.”
I couldn’t stop myself from scanning him from head to toe and back again. Sure, he had pants on, but he was still shirtless. “I… I don’t understand. Are you telling me the truth?”
“If there’s one thing I can say, it’s that I don’t lie.”
“Where are your tattoos?”
He looked down at his bare chest, like he needed to locate them himself to be able to show me. When he lifted his gaze to meet mine, he mumbled, “I don’t have any.”
My eyes widened in shock. Graham had to be the only tattoo artist on the face of the planet that didn’t have a single tattoo on his body. I was fascinated by it.
I also wondered if I’d removed any of the tattoos he’d done, because I occasionally had patients who came in looking to have tattoos removed.
“I mean, I knew that. I’ve seen all of you, Graham. I just don’t think I’ve ever heard of a tattoo artist who doesn’t have any tattoos. I’m blown away by that.”
He shrugged, and I couldn’t tell if he was bored with the conversation or simply not interested in sharing any of his choices or reasons with me.
Since I’d gotten what I’d hoped to get from him, I figured it was time to quit while I was ahead.
“Right. Well, I should get out of here. I’ve got an early day tomorrow.”
My heart squeezed in my chest, wishing and hoping he might ask me about what I did for a living. But he opened the door and said, “Drive safe, Kat.”
Disappointment washed over me. “Goodnight, Graham.”
I stepped outside and made my way to my car. As he always did, Graham waited until I was inside before closing his door. And on the drive home, no matter how much it hurt that he hadn’t shown any interest in learning more about me, I did my best to be grateful that I’d gotten that tidbit of information about him.
I leaned my weight into Graham’s big solid body, my palm resting on his groin.
Hearing the groan that escaped from him, a smile formed on my face.
This just might work.
Getting Graham to share information with me was easily the most difficult thing I’d ever done.
He didn’t share anything willingly.
And I quickly learned that if he wasn’t distracted by something else, it was even more of a challenge.
So, I’d come up with a new plan to learn more about him. I thought back on our first night together, when Graham had been the one who did more talking while I wasn’t looking for any conversation, and I got an idea.
Maybe this needed to not feel so threatening to him.
In order to make that happen, I decided I’d try to get him to talk when he was feeling excited about what was to come, when he thought the only goal was merely building each other up for some fun.
Sure, I didn’t think I’d be having any deep, life-changing conversations with him, but I was eager to learn anything I could, to see if I could soften him up in any way.
“It seems as though somebody likes that,” I said, my tone light and teasing.
Graham’s hand on the arm that had been wrapped around my waist, holding me close, drifted down to my ass and squeezed. “What’s not to like about your hand being precisely where it is right now?”
I tipped my chin up and offered a seductive smile. “What if I moved it?”
“Moved it?”
My hand stroked over him again through the rough fabric of his jeans. We were both still fully clothed, and I was convinced that would work to my advantage. “Moved it. To another spot.”
Graham’s hand squeezed my ass again as he dropped his head down to brush his lips against mine. “I guess that depends on where you’re going. It likely won’t have the same effect.”
“So, I guess that answers that.”
His brows pulled together. “What are you talking about?”
My fingers gripped him around his length. “I was going to ask what your favorite part was.”
Graham sent me a questioning look. “My favorite part?”
Nodding, I clarified, “Your favorite body part.”
“On you?”
I rubbed my hand over him again, feeling his hold on my ass grow firmer. “I was referring to you.”
If anything, Graham only seemed to be more confused. “You were going to ask me what my favorite body part of my own is?”
Believing it would be easier for him to answer if I shared first, I didn’t hesitate. “Yes. I’ll admit that I’m not very tall, but I love my legs.”
His lips twitched. “I’m partial to your mouth, but I like your legs, too.”
He liked my mouth.
Interesting.
Was it the way I kissed that he enjoyed? Did he like the way it felt to have my mouth wrapped around him? Or was he merely referring to the shape of my lips and how they looked on my face?
Not wanting to focus on any of that in case he realized he was giving me too much about himself and would shut down as a result, I focused on the comment about my legs. “Yeah, but the reason I like them is probably different than the reason you do. I like what they can do for me; that they’re strong, and I can run, walk, and dance because of them.”
“I like the way they feel when they’re wrapped around my back or thrown over my shoulders.”
A shiver ran along my spine. I could admit I liked when my legs were in either of those positions as well.
Smiling at him, I squeezed his length again. I was feeling slightly victorious. Sure, I wasn’t getting any groundbreaking information from him, but he was talking to me, and he was doing it without that edge of uncertainty or gruffness I typically saw when I pushed for more and didn’t have my hands on him.
“It seems as though somebody else likes that, too.”
“Are you using my own words on me?” I questioned him playfully.
He shrugged and tipped his head to the side. “It’s true, isn’t it? You like the idea of your legs thrown over my shoulders and my face buried between them.”
I narrowed my eyes and pulled my body back just a touch. As I began working to unfasten his belt, I couldn’t miss the gleam in his eye. Only after I unzipped his jeans and pushed them and his underwear down just enough to free him did I speak. “So, is this it?”
My fingers were curled around him.
Graham looked down between our bodies, saw where my hand was gripping him firmly, and lifted his gaze to meet mine. He wrapped his hand around mine and countered, “Is this what?”
“Your favorite part of yours.”
“Seems like it might be yours, Kit Kat.”
There it was.
For the second time ever, he called me that name. Both times he’d used it, we’d been playing like this and teasing one another. I hadn’t anticipated getting that little treat again, but I loved knowing that my efforts to encourage more conversation with him—even if being done like this—were leading to him letting his guard down in such a sweet way.
And I loved that name. I didn’t know if there was any sort of explanation for his use of that specific name—something I was curious about—or if he threw it out because it was an easy play on my name.
Figuring I’d need to leave the discovery on that for another day, I smiled and stroked him. “So what if it is? Wouldn’t that make two of us?”
He shook his head, his jaw clenching. Graham was waging a battle between answering my question and giving in to the physical desires. And this seemed to be the place I got the most out of him.
“My eyes.”
“What?”
“I like my eyes the most.”
His response caught me off guard. Not that I didn’t think his eyes were gorgeous. They were. But I was surprised it was his eyes that got the top spot for him. In an effort to keep the conversation going, I pressed my body close to his, kept my hold on him, and stared up into those eyes. “They sure are pretty.”
Graham chuckled. “Like you felt about my reason and yours for liking your legs being different, it’s the same with this.”
“I don’t understand.”
Before he gave me an answer, Graham’s hands went to my waist. His fingers slid along the sliver of exposed skin beneath my shirt, sending shivers across my body. Then he bunched that material in his hands and lifted it up and over my head. My hand lost purchase on his cock, and by the time I could reach for it again, I was too captivated by the look in his eyes to do anything but hold my breath and wait.
Graham’s attention shifted lower, focusing on the trail his fingers had taken as they journeyed across my collarbone. His eyes continued to watch as those fingers dipped down between my breasts before shifting to one side and lightly caressing the swells of flesh. “I like my eyes for what they see, for the way they take in the world around me.”
His fingers swept across my chest to the opposite side, the touch just as light and tender.
I had officially stopped breathing. For some reason, I was terrified that if I dared to exhale, he might stop speaking.
“I like how they can take in colors and light and shapes and shadows. I like my eyes for their ability to recognize beauty where others might not.”
He was a tattoo artist.
His ability to see things, to create, was so wildly important to him. I thought that was utterly beautiful.
“Graham.” That single word came out in a rush of air. “That was… that was unexpected. But it was so beautiful.”
“Yeah.” One half of his mouth quirked. “I also like my mouth for what it can taste. And right now, I need a taste of you.”
He dragged my pants and underwear down my legs, tossed me onto the bed, and urged me to part my legs. Then they were tossed over his shoulders, just like he liked, and he feasted on me.
I didn’t get much more in the way of insight into Graham’s inner workings once he’d commenced our fun, but I wasn’t upset.
I’d made progress, and what I’d gotten had been nothing short of extraordinary.
“What’s this?”
“Consider it an early apology.”
Graham stepped back, allowing me to come inside, as he inspected the package that I’d just handed him like he’d never seen one like it before. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. What are you apologizing for?”
Having stepped fully into the house, I closed the door behind me before turning to face him. Then I smiled brightly at him and explained, “I know I’m going to see you between now and then, but I didn’t want to forget this, so I brought it today. You and I have been making the effort to get together with one another at least once each weekend on a Friday or Saturday. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to do that two weekends from now, so this is technically for you to have then.”
He cocked a brow. “You brought me a Kit Kat?”
I beamed at him. “Yes. Sooo…my sisters are coming to visit me in two weekends and will be staying with me Friday and Saturday night, so you and I won’t be able to get together.”
Graham shifted on his feet, looking as confused as ever, and tipped his head to the side. He held the Kit Kat up between us. “Maybe I’m just missing it, but how does this play into this?”
“That’s what you called me.”
His head jerked back. “Pardon?”
I set my purse down on the counter, stepped toward him, and pressed my body against his. Bringing my hand to rest at his groin, I stroked it over him and smiled. “The one day I was on my knees in front of you a couple of weeks ago. We were teasing one another, and you called me Kit Kat for the first time.”
Though he didn’t deny it, Graham’s expression made it clear he didn’t recall what he’d done.
While there was a small part of me that was bummed that he didn’t remember, there was another part of me that appreciated what it might mean. He had been so consumed by what we were doing that whatever walls he had up, preventing him from wanting more than just a physical relationship and forcing him to be on guard all the time, might have crumbled slightly that day. I’d driven him so wild that he let go of whatever held him back, even if only briefly, and allowed himself to be more than just the rough and tough guy.
Recognizing he might have been drawing this conclusion on his own and wasn’t prepared for how it made him feel, I waved my hand in the air dismissively, as though it was nothing to make a big deal about. “It was just a silly thing, really. I was at the grocery store yesterday, and when I was standing in the checkout lane, I looked down and saw this there. It made me think of you. That’s all.”
Though my words had made it seem like it was nothing special, it hadn’t felt that way to me at the time. For what it was worth, there had been a small part of me that had wanted to ignore it.
But the more time passed, the more I saw glimpses of the sweet guy underneath the grouchy exterior, the harder it was to forget the way it had warmed me to hear him call me that.
Ignoring everything I’d said about why I’d purchased that specific candy bar, Graham focused on the reason I’d purchased anything at all. “You won’t be free two weekends from now?”
I sensed a bit of dismay in his tone, like he was bummed about not getting to see me that weekend. Hearing that helped to alleviate my own disappointment about him not wanting to put much stock in the reason I’d picked up the candy bar.
I shook my head. “No. I’m sorry.”
“Looks like we better do what we can to make up for that now,” he murmured, his head dropping low so he could kiss me.
“Mmm,” I hummed against his lips, continuing to stroke my hand over his now-hard length. “That sounds promising.”
Graham hooked his arm around my waist, and though I couldn’t see it, I heard the candy bar drop down onto the counter beside us. A moment later, I was hoisted up and being carried through the house to wherever Graham deemed necessary to begin our fun.
And while there was a twinge of disappointment lingering that he hadn’t been willing to delve further into what he’d called me, I couldn’t say he didn’t make up for it in the two hours that followed.
Plus, if it had really bothered him, I suspected he would have kicked me out. If anything, he seemed hungrier than ever for me, so I counted that as progress. And progress was a win.