Chapter 33 Eli
Eli
I’m doodling for a client at the hotel in the corner of Dandy Stuff.
Winnie flits around the store, cleaning and helping a few customers.
It’s Saturday afternoon, and it’s been busy.
I didn’t really have a lot to do today, though.
So I stayed with my mate. Something about being close to her helped even with the crowd, and I mostly stayed in the back break room until it slowed down and her assistant, a small beta woman, went home.
Deputy lays against my legs. We told Winnie about the alpha who came in for him, just so she could be more aware, though Corbin doesn’t think he’ll be a problem anymore. She was grateful we’d protected her pup. I reach down and absently rub the mutt behind the ear.
“Can I see?”
I look up from my pad of paper to find Winnie standing in front of me. I have my mask on, so I usually can’t hear her light footsteps.
I hand over the pad. She studies it while I study her face, searching for a reaction I’m not sure I’m prepared for.
My style is lines, shapes, and minimalism. The client wanted something related to hiking, so I’ve drawn a mountain inside a hexagon, crisscrossed with geometric shapes.
“This is really stunning,” she says simply.
“I’ve never been brave enough to get one.
” I take the pad back from her. Today she’s wearing a loose, strappy halter blouse and a skirt.
Her beautiful skin is on display. Thinking about inking that gorgeous expanse of untouched canvas makes my sketching hand twitch, and my cock fill.
She is a perfect canvas for any artist, and I want to be the first one displayed on her.
Winnie’s looking at me, head tilted. “Can I look at your tattoos?” No one’s in the store right now, though. When she’d stayed at the hotel with me the lights had been dim.
I reach forward slowly and take hold of her hip, pulling her toward me.
She never resists and settles on my knee when I urge her to.
I wrap the arm that held her hip around her middle.
Her rose-and-lilac perfume rises around me, and my hand flexes on her stomach to keep from dipping lower than it should.
I take my hand off her stomach and roll up my right sleeve, exposing my wrist and lower forearm.
Almost every inch is covered in ink. Some are mine, sound waves riding through a prism, turning into lightning on the other side.
A motorcycle done in simple lines and geometric shapes. A skull in nothing but outline.
Others are tattoos that symbolize my packmates.
Winnie’s fingers hover over my wrist. She looks at me with a question in her eyes, and for that I’m incredibly grateful. Most people don’t think about their movements, assuming every average interaction is average for everyone. Winnie notices, though. She notices everything.
“My mate can always touch me,” I assure her.
Her eyes go wide, and their beautiful depths are a place I could drown.
Her fingertips graze my skin, and it’s like a spiritual connection. We don’t have a bond, but I already feel so connected to her it’s hard to breathe.
“Do they all have meanings?” she asks. She shifts in my lap, and I have to breathe shallowly to keep myself under control.
“Yes,” I confirm.
“I’d like to learn them all,” she says. Her head tilts back. My tattooed hand skims up the column of her throat and cups her chin.
I can’t help it. I lower my lips to hers and skim them softly. She leans in. A deep feeling begins resonating from my center, and suddenly I’m purring. It’s a surprise every time. Before her, I’d never managed to do it.
Winnie’s eyes flutter, and she leans deeper into me as I wrap my arms around her.
“I like when you’re in the store,” she murmurs. “I know it can be overwhelming, being around people. Thank you for being here with me.”
“Anytime,” I assure her. Whenever there were too many people, I just went to her back employee room.
I help her close up the shop, and the other guys slowly arrive. I’m more than a little nervous.
Tonight is the big dinner with her family. Her friends are going to pick Deputy up from Dandy Stuff in an hour.
She catches me on our way out to the bikes. I brace myself for the obvious lies people like to tell in these situations. They’re going to love you. It’ll be okay. You can do this.
The truth is most people don’t. It usually ends up being a shitshow for me. And sometimes I can’t do it. It’s just too fucking much.
But she surprises me again. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to the gentle care of this woman.
“If you need to leave, I’ll completely understand, Eli, okay?
” I can’t stop myself from wrapping an arm around her and pulling her to me.
Her arms wrap around my waist, and she sighs into my chest like there’s nowhere she’d rather be.
“Thank you, Softness,” I whisper through the mask into her hair. Her head turns, and she kisses into the space between my pecs.
She looks over her shoulder at the other guys waiting.
“Do you mind if I ride with Rafe today? He called dibs.” Of course he did. The smug bastard is grinning at me from his bike, her helmet in hand.
“Sure, Softness, but I call the ride back.” She cringes, and I know I’ve already lost that one too.
“Gage already called that too.”
I groan but pull her back to me. “Guess I need to be faster next time.” I chuckle, but my heart definitely feels a little cracked until she raises up on her toes and plants a soft kiss onto my mouth through the skull smile on my mask.
“Next time,” she promises and winks before sauntering away. And damn if those swaying hips don’t threaten to flatten me.
This is going to be a long trip.