22. Chapter 22
Chapter 22
Corbin
It’s official. I’m a total bastard. Leaving Avery alone in the shop tonight after one of the most mind-blowing orgasms of my life was a dick move. I’m still not completely sure why I did it. Not the sex part. I know exactly why I did that. I wanted her. I wanted her like I’ve never wanted another woman before. And she'd been wearing another of those sexy-as-fuck dresses that drove me crazy. What happened tonight shouldn't have been a surprise to either of us. We've been doing our best to ignore the tension between us for weeks. It was bound to blow up eventually. And it had been just as mind-blowing as I expected it to be. I knew sex with her would be fucking amazing. No, there’s no mystery about why I gave in and fucked her. But leaving afterward? I don’t know why I did that.
I hadn’t been ready to talk to her about what just happened. But did I tell her that? No. I’d just left like a pussy. I’ve had sex with plenty of women. I’ve even had casual hookups that I knew weren’t going to lead to anything serious. But I’ve never left without talking to the woman afterward. So, why did I do it tonight? I don’t have an answer for that. Granted, I’d stayed nearby until I’d seen her get into her car. I wanted to make sure she was safe. I’m not a total piece of shit. But I hadn’t wanted her to know I was there. Maybe I’m not a total bastard after all. But I’m pretty close.
By the time I make my way home and into the shower, I’m calling myself ten different kinds of fools for hooking up with Avery. Regardless of how badly I’ve wanted her since our first meeting, I shouldn’t have acted on it. I should have ignored her. I shouldn't have said shit about her helping Jessie with that dick piercing. I remember the irritational anger when I realized what piercing Jessie was doing and that Avery was helping her. Not that it should have mattered. I should have pushed down those feelings and gone home. I should have done a lot of things that wouldn’t have ended with me filling her pussy full of my cum. That memory has my dick growing hard again and the urge to jack off is strong. I just had mind-blowing sex with Avery, and it was better than I could have imagined. But somehow, I’m hard again and already thinking of the next time I can fuck her.
“Fuck,” I mutter to my empty bathroom.
I ignore my hardening cock, refusing to give into the urge to masturbate. I’ve spent weeks masturbating to thoughts of Avery. Now that I’ve had her, I know exactly how insufficient my hand is in comparison to the real thing. I finish washing quickly and step out of the shower, doing my best to ignore my body’s reaction to the memory of Avery’s moans as she came while I was buried deep inside her. Seriously. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I need to talk to her and make sure she knows that what happened tonight was a one-time thing. It can’t happen again. No matter how great the sex was. And fuck, was it good. But I’ve never allowed workplace relationships in my shop. I’m not going to bend the rules now just because I want to keep having sex with Avery. We’ll just need to be mature adults about this and agree to do what’s best for business. And that’s keeping our hands to ourselves.
I’m also not going to fire her. That would make me a complete and total bastard. Not to mention, I’m pretty sure it would get me sued. Besides, I’m starting to think she has what it takes to be a good tattoo artist. I won’t let my selfish urges interfere with that. So, I’ll just find a moment tomorrow to talk to her alone. I’ll explain that while what happened was incredible, it can’t happen again. She’ll understand, right? She has to.
By the time I make my way to the shop the next morning, I’ve nearly convinced myself that what happened between Avery and me wasn’t that big of a big deal and that she’s going to be reasonable about it. She’ll understand why it can’t happen again and that it’s best to forget it ever happened in the first place. I just need to find the right time to talk to her. Without the others around.
Unfortunately, I don’t get the chance to talk to Avery before my first client. I forgot I booked him early because he needed to catch a flight this afternoon. So, I spend two hours working on his arm and listening to him tell me about his next album while Avery studiously avoids coming anywhere near me. I know it’s for the best. It’s not like we can have a conversation about what happened right now with clients here. Not to mention Jessie is only a few feet away, getting ready to pierce someone’s septum.
Speaking of Jessie, I know I need to apologize to her too. She’s got every right to be pissed at me after the way I acted last night. I’m usually more careful with her. At least she hadn’t looked afraid of me last night. Just pissed. That, I can deal with. And she hadn’t quit. But she’s definitely been giving me the cold shoulder today. Not that I can blame her. I deserve it.
Oddly enough, Avery isn’t acting strangely around me. I doubt anyone else can tell anything is different between us. But it doesn’t stop me from being hyper-aware of her at every single moment. It also doesn’t stop my gaze from straying to her every chance I get. It’s as if now that I’ve had a taste of her, my body wants more. Even if my mind is telling me that it’s a terrible idea that will only end badly. I can’t stop thinking about how fucking good it felt to be buried inside her, my hand on her throat, her nails digging into my shoulders.
When I realize I’ve once again let my brain veer off onto the subject of Avery’s naked body, I abruptly shut down that line of thinking. I need to focus on what I’m doing before I make a mistake. It was one night. Not even a whole night; it was one hour. And somehow, it’s all I can think about. Why does this one woman have such an effect on me? Speaking of Avery, she walks toward me as I finish wrapping my client’s arm, a pleasant smile on her face .
It’s the first time she’s approached me all morning and I don’t know what to expect. Surely, she isn’t going to make a scene now. She smiles and nods at the man who returns the greeting before shaking my hand.
“I’ll see you in a couple of months,” I say. “Take care of that, and good luck with the new album.”
“Thanks, Corbin. Great work, as usual.”
I dip my head in a single nod. “No problem. I’m glad you’re happy with it. It’s going to look great when we’re finished.”
I’m keeping my gaze on him, but I’m hyperaware that Avery is standing a few feet away, waiting to talk to me. Finally, the client turns to leave, and I immediately turn my focus to cleaning and sanitizing my station.
“Corbin, can I talk to you for a second?” Avery’s voice comes from behind me, making me go still.
She sounds normal and natural. No different than she had yesterday before the incident. I don’t know what that means, but I force myself to turn and look at her. God damn it. She looks fucking gorgeous in jeans that sit low on her hips and a cropped top that shows off just a little skin. She always looks great, obviously. But now that I know what’s underneath her clothes, my fingers itch to yank that shirt off so I can see if my memory of those pretty, pink nipples is accurate. Instead, I school my features to something I hope is neutral before speaking.
“What’s up?”
If she’s bothered by my casual tone, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she seems just as unaffected as I’m pretending to be. Which shouldn’t annoy me as much as it does. This is what I wanted, right? To pretend nothing happened. To go back to the normal, professional relationship we had before we got carried away last night. So, why does it bother me that Avery seems so unbothered?
Her brows lower with something that looks like concern. “I just got a call from Cass. She’s in town. I didn’t know she was coming, but she’s at South Station. I was wondering if I could take the rest of the day off. I know our arrangement was for me to work 6 days a week. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think Cass needed me. It’s not like her to be so impulsive. Well, it is. But it’s not like her not to call first, and I just want to make sure she’s okay.”
She finally stops talking, her words trailing off as she takes in a much-needed breath.
“Okay,” I say. “I hope everything is okay with your friend.”
Avery stands there blinking at me for several seconds before giving her head a little shake.
“Really?” she asks, shock evident in that single word.
I nod. “Yeah. I know she’s important to you. Go make sure she’s okay.”
She looks as if she wants to question my decision some more, but she doesn’t. Instead, she just says, “Thanks. I’ll see you Tuesday.”
I nod again. “See you Tuesday.”
As Avery walks to the back of the shop to grab her purse, I breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe we didn’t make it through an entire day without last night’s incident coming up, but with her out of the shop for the rest of the day, I’m in the clear for a little while longer. I know I need to talk to her about it and make sure we’re both on the same page. I’m a coward and a jackass for not doing it last night before I ran out on her. But it can wait another day or two. It’s not like talking about it today will change what happened. I may as well take some time to compose my thoughts so that when I do talk to her about it, I won’t sound like a total asshole. As I watch Avery walk out of the shop and to her car, I ignore the urge to follow her into the parking lot. Now isn’t the time for this. Tuesday is soon enough. I’ll talk to her on Tuesday.
I order cheesesteaks for Jessie and Noah, along with a dozen snickerdoodles to be delivered from Jensen’s. The delivery fee is insane, but it’s worth it when Jessie smiles at me around a mouthful of the trash cookie.
“Sorry about last night,” I say. “I was a dick.”
“Mmhmm,” she says, nodding as she chews. “You were.”
“Forgive me?”
She shrugs. “I guess so.”
She offers me a cookie. It’s not a turtle brownie, but I accept the peace offering. As I take a bite, I’ve got to admit that snickerdoodles aren’t as bad as I thought. Maybe it’s just that Jensen’s makes superior baked goods. I may need to reevaluate my stance on snickerdoodles after all. Sugar cookies are still shit, though.