Chapter 11
eleven
My mind is all about Sasha as I park in front of Skin & Ink. I barely slept after our little late-night encounter. The whole time I was with her, I couldn’t seem to squash the guilt about sketching her, watching as she got naked in her room.
Even though my knee feels so much better, there’s still a slight ache. Now all I can see are those sexy green eyes of hers peering up at me from under dark lashes as she knelt between my legs, her magic hands relieving the worst of my pain.
It wasn’t just my sore knee that was making it hard to concentrate.
All I could think about was what I wanted to make her do while she was down on her knees.
Like take off my shorts while I fisted a hand in her hair, shoved my cock in her mouth and fucked her face until tears streamed down her flushed, pretty cheeks.
Adjusting my dick, I shake my head to clear it and head inside. The last thing I need is a raging hard-on leading me around all fucking day.
Claire is already at the front desk, tapping away at the computer. “Morning, sunshine.”
“Morning,” I grunt.
The typing stops, and she glances up at me, popping a brow. “Rough night?”
“Storm kept me up.” The last thing I’m going to do is tell her about my impromptu visit with Sasha. Claire would never let me live it down. It would give her way too much ammunition. And if there’s one thing Claire loves more than tattoos? It’s giving me shit.
I take my time setting up my station. I’ve got three back-to-back appointments today, which leaves a full day of work ahead.
Arranging my inks just the way I like them, I check my needles and prep for my first client. My stomach growls loudly as I finish, reminding me I haven’t eaten anything since dinner last night. I wasn’t feeling too hungry this morning, so I skipped breakfast, and I’m out of coffee.
I glance at the clock. It’s just after 8:30, so I’ve got time to grab something before my client shows up.
“Heading next door,” I say to Claire. “Want anything?”
“Oat milk latte and one of those amazing cinnamon thingies they always have,” she answers without looking up from the screen.
“You got it.”
I step outside into the bright morning sunshine. Bean & Co. is right next door, and the rich scent of freshly ground coffee and pastries hits me as soon as I step inside.
Busy with the morning rush, the café is filled with a mix of locals and tourists lining up for their first caffeine fix of the day.
Spotting Lizzy sitting at her favorite table in a corner, hunched over her laptop, I get in line, scanning the pastry case while I wait. The breakfast sandwiches look good, and the bacon and egg croissant happens to be a personal favorite.
“One bacon and egg croissant, an oat milk latte, and one of those cinnamon twists,” I tell the barista, pulling out my wallet.
While she rings me up, I scan the room again. Lizzy has company now, and it looks like she’s showing him her designs.
The guy sitting next to her is hanging on her every word. Then it hits me. She’s mentoring the new guy Ryder hired. Good for her. She’s been working hard, vying for a senior position at the shop.
After paying, I step to the side to wait for my order just as my phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s Ryder asking if I can pick up some more transfer paper. I shoot back a quick “no prob” and slip my phone back in my pocket just as the barista calls my name.
Balancing the cardboard carrier and the bag of food, I weave through the crowded tables toward Lizzy, who looks up, a smile lighting up her face as she closes her laptop.
“Hey,” I say with a nod. “Is it ‘mentor the newbie’ day already?”
She rolls her eyes playfully and gestures to the guy sitting next to her. “It sure is. Jax, this is Carter. He’s the new artist who’ll be starting this week.”
“Nice to meet you,” Carter says, rising from his seat to offer me his hand.
Shaking his hand firmly, I give him the once-over. He looks to be in his late twenties, with messy blond hair and a nervous energy that reminds me a little of myself back in the day. He’s wearing a band tee, showing off a full sleeve of impressive traditional work on his left arm.
“Carter, this is Jax,” Lizzy adds, leaning back in her chair with a smirk. “He’s the other half of Skin & Ink Tattoo. So, try not to piss him off on your first day.”
Carter’s eyes widen slightly. “Oh, right. The boss. I’ll do my best not to mess up.”
“Relax, man.” I flash him a grin. “As long as you don’t drink the last of the coffee without starting a new pot, and keep your station clean, we’ll get along just fine.”
“Noted,” he laughs, looking relieved as he retakes his seat.
“I gotta get this sugar bomb to Claire before she starts going through withdrawals,” I say, jerking a thumb toward the door. “Be good.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Lizzy calls out as I walk away.
Shaking my head, I push out the door, squinting in the bright morning sun. The one thing I do love about storms is how they leave everything feeling so fresh and clean.
After dropping off Claire’s food and coffee at the front desk, I settle in at my station and unwrap my breakfast sandwich. I’m about to take a bite when I remember I left my sketchbook out in the truck.
Just as my hand grasps the truck’s door handle, I hear a familiar shriek coming from inside Sasha’s building.
“What the hell?”
I jog across the street. The front door is open a crack, so I cautiously take a step inside. “Hello? Anyone in here?”
When there’s no response, I listen close and hear what sounds like someone grumbling, so I follow the sound.
“Hello?” I call again, louder this time.
As I round the corner, I hear mumbling coming from inside of what I think could be the women’s restroom. When I reach the doorway, I stop dead in my tracks.
“What the hell happened?” I ask, my eyes sweeping over the flooded bathroom before landing on a soaking wet Sasha.
She pushes a couple of wet strands of hair away from her face as she looks up at me.
Completely soaked, she’s clutching a wrench in her hand and sitting in a puddle of water.
Strands of wet hair are sticking to her forehead and neck, and I try not to laugh.
The look on her face is a hilarious combination of shock and embarrassment.
“What does it look like? I tried to fix a leaky pipe, and it backfired on me. Literally.”
My eyes drift down, taking her in. And that’s when I notice her white T-shirt is plastered to her skin. It’s completely see-through, showing off not only a lacy white bra, but her hard pink nipples underneath.
Shoving my hands in my pockets, I lean against the doorframe, letting my eyes rake over her drenched form, a smirk tugging at my lips. “Is there a cover charge for the wet T-shirt contest you’ve got goin’ on in here?”
She shoots me a glare.
“Are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” she snaps, trying and failing to stand as she slips on the wet tile.
My mouth waters at the vision before me, and I have to force myself not to make a comment about how fucking ‘more than okay’ she actually looks. And my dick? Back in the game.
Damn, I’m fucking feral for this girl.
I bite back a grin and cross the room, carefully navigating a few puddles still dotting the floor.
Squatting down, I level my face with hers. “Need a hand up?”
“Of course not,” is her indignant response.
Planting her palms on the wet tile, she pushes herself up to standing, leaving my eyes perfectly in line with her crotch. Her leggings are soaked through, clinging to every curve, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.
My mouth waters as I stare at the outline of her pussy, mere inches away from my face. I can practically feel the heat radiating from her core. All I would need to do is just lean forward a couple of inches and…
“Um, Jax?” Her voice sounds strained, breathless.
I drag my gaze up her body, past the see-through T-shirt and that fucking lace bra, to meet her eyes. Her cheeks are flushed, and she’s looking down at me with what looks a hell of a lot like desire.
“Yeah?” I barely manage, voice rough.
“You’re still down there. On the floor.”
With no intention of rising anytime soon, I smirk up at her. “I know.”
Her breath catches, and I watch her throat work as she swallows. The tension between us is so thick it’s making it hard to breathe.
“This position suits me just fine,” I add, letting my eyes drop back down to where I want my mouth to be. “For now. Unless you’d prefer I do this standing up?”
“I—” Whatever she was about to say dies on her lips when I place my hands on her ankles.
Slowly, I slide my palms up the back of her legs. My fingers trace the curve of her calves up to her knees, then continue their journey along the back of her thighs. Fuck, her skin is hot, even through the soaked fabric of her leggings.
“Jax.” This time, her whisper sounds more like a plea.
I glance up, waiting for her to tell me to stop. Instead, she lightly scrapes her nails along the sides of my newly shaved head, making me groan.
Leaning forward, I press my mouth against her center. She gasps, hands gripping my head as her hips instinctively buck into my face.
“Fuck,” she breathes.
I hum against her, the vibration making her shiver. My hands slide around to cup her ass, pulling her even closer as I drag my tongue along the seam.
“We shouldn’t—” she starts, but her protest turns into a moan when I suck gently on her clit through the fabric and slide my hands up to her waist.
Just as I hook my fingers into the waistband of her leggings, she stiffens.
“Stop,” she gasps, pushing my head back. “Jax, I’m sorry.”
Disappointment thrums in my chest as I stand with a heavy sigh. Placing my hands against the tile wall on either side of her head, I lean in close, my gaze searching her face.
The warring emotions of molten heat in her eyes and the manic look on her face makes me grin. She wants me. Unfortunately, she’s just not able to admit it to herself quite yet.
There were so many things I wanted to do to her when we had sex the first time, and eating her out was one of them.
But Sasha didn’t want to take a chance someone would walk by, so she wouldn’t let me do anything other than hitch up her dress, allowing me only enough access to fuck her. I did, however, manage to get my mouth on her tits.
Sure it was quick, and we both got off, but it didn’t quench my thirst for her, not even a little. It bugged me how disappointed I was when she left with Noia the night of the party. Still does.
One and done with Sasha wasn’t enough. Not even close.