CHAPTER 14
PLAYBOY
“Today I get to see you in your full bikini glory,” I tease Lara the moment she walks into my shop.
She rolls her eyes and tries to scowl, but I catch the way one side of her mouth tips up. When she notices Riti cleaning up her station, she pauses for a moment. I’ve made sure the shop is empty every other time Lara has come in.
I didn’t want any distractions or for someone else to have any of her attention. I’m aware it makes me sound selfish as hell. Here’s the thing—I really don’t give a fuck.
Being close to her, earning her little smiles and laughs while breathing in her sugary scent, has become an obsession. I won’t apologize for it.
I also won’t be stopping any time soon.
“Hi, Lara,” Riti’s voice is bright and welcoming.
It’s obvious they know each other, even if the only reason they do is because Riti has been a customer at the bakery.
“Hi, Riti. I haven’t seen you here before for one of my sessions, I guess we just keep missing each other,” Lara jokes.
I keep my grimace inside. Because I know something Lara doesn’t know. I won’t be telling her anytime soon. Hopefully, Riti keeps her mouth shut too, not that I’m asking her to hide it or lie to Lara for me.
Maybe it won’t come up.
“I’m just finishing cleaning up.” Riti glances at me with a coy smile on her face. “Then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“You’re totally fine,” Lara assures her.
I do not agree, but I don’t say anything. Instead, I press my lips together in a thin line.
The quiet settles around us for a moment before Riti straightens with a bright smile on her face and grabs her bag. “That’s it for me today. I’m out.”
When she turns her attention towards Lara, part of me wants to step between them. Not because Riti is a bad person; she’s wonderful. But because Riti is also a troublemaker and I recognize the glint in her eyes.
“I was talking to Opal a few days ago and she mentioned getting together for a night out at On Wasted Ridge. You in?” She poses it like a question, but I have the feeling it’s really not.
“That sounds like fun,” Lara admits before hedging, “but it’ll all depend on if I can get someone to watch Vanessa.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Riti waves her hand, “we can find someone. I bet Playboy would be willing to help.”
I would. I totally would. But if Lara is going to be out at a bar where there will be men and alcohol then you better fucking believe I’m going to be there too.
The thought of some guy putting his hands on her makes my vision turn red.
Still, I choke out, “Of course. Or Rumble would be more than willing as well. He could use it as a chance to take Vivi out on his bike.”
Lara’s mouth twists to one side like she’s considering my offer. Her tone is filled with challenge, “Don’t you need to ask him if he’s okay with it first?”
I chuckle and shake my head. “The man is part of your fan club now. Yours and Vanessa’s. I don’t need to ask him.”
“We just talked about sourdough,” Lara huffs a little like she doesn’t understand why something so simple would have such a significant impact.
I’m not surprised. She has no idea the effect she has on other people or how much people value her.
“We’ll figure out the details and make a plan,” Riti promises with a wave as she heads out the door.
As the rest of the world is closed out again, I turn toward Lara fully. I want to talk about the kiss we shared, but I’m petrified she’ll tell me it was all just some mistake.
I’m not too proud to admit that I wouldn’t be able to handle it if she said anything remotely close to that.
Has she been thinking about it as much as I have? I’ve been replaying it over and over again.
I kissed her. That’s not the amazing part.
She kissed me back.
Not talking about it seems like the right thing to do. At least the safest thing to do. Or maybe the easiest.
I clap my hands together and motion to the space in front of me. “Ready to get started?”
Lara makes a humming sound and then starts pulling her clothes off. Fuck me. Did I just die and go to fucking heaven?
She’s not undressing for me. I’m very aware of the distinction, but my cock isn’t.
The bathing suit she’s wearing is totally acceptable and not at all lacy. I’m cursing the very existence of bathing suits and wishing everything was made with satin or lace.
She’s expecting me to be a professional. I’m trying to talk my cock off the ledge right now.
When she steps closer to me, I almost wipe my face to see if I’m drooling. Her sweet scent wraps around me and I have to close my eyes and take a steadying breath. When I open them again and meet her eyes while grabbing a pair of gloves, there’s something mischievous twinkling there.
It’s sexy as fuck.
She doesn’t say a word; she doesn’t need to. We both feel it. We’re just not going to talk about it.
Grabbing a sharpie, I start to roughly sketch out a few vines to connect the two sections. I rough out a few options for how deeply they wind into the side of her ribcage. When I lean back and look at it, I’m torn. My eyebrows pull together as I try to look at her body objectively.
It’s not fucking easy.
“You look like you’re doing math, but not bakery math,” Lara teases.
Her voice startles me and I jump slightly before chuckling under my breath.
“Looking at your body like you are any other client isn’t easy.
” Her eyes widen and I’m quick to add, “I want to do this right. Sure, it’s my design, but when you put your art on a person, on a body, it comes alive in a unique way.
This section is where your body becomes the art.
” I let out a self-deprecating chuckle. “Then there’s how much I want you. It makes this much harder.”
Her breathing picks up and she almost takes a step back. It’s in the way her muscles tense and she shifts her weight. Then her shoulders square and she holds firm like she’s made a decision.
“Do whatever you need to do. I’m not worried about it.” Her words are brazen, but the look in her eyes isn’t.
It’s vulnerable.
She clears her throat. “I know what I signed up for, I’m not na?ve. You’re the artist.”
My hands land on her hips before I stand up. I’m more than a few inches taller than her. Protectiveness roars inside me.
Lara is delicate but with a hidden strength which I desperately want to bolster.
I lean closer, our noses almost touching. Too close. But I can’t help myself.
“Are you sure you know what you’re saying, Cupcake?” I rumble the question, my need barely leashed.
“Yeah, yeah,” she rolls her eyes and waves her hands dismissively. “Big talk.”
The silence stretches between us while I smirk. Big fucking talk is right. I can back it up though. And the look in my eyes is telling her exactly that.
Fuck, it’s fun riling her up and I much prefer doing it this way.
As I sit back down and give her hips a squeeze before I let go, I offer, “I’ll do my thing and if you can be a good girl and sit really good for me then I’ll give you a reward.”
Lara arches a perfect eyebrow. “As if I haven’t already been a stellar tattoo getter?”
“Are you saying you agree?”
“Well,” there’s a tease in her voice and I have to force myself to focus on getting back to work, “I’m not the kind of woman to back down from a challenge and I do like rewards.”
Fuck my life.
My cock is begging to be set free. Sorry, buddy, you’re not going to be part of the party today. I have to go slow and whipping out my dick today would not be going slow.
Of course, she sits like a fucking rock star. I knew she would. If I thought it would go any differently, I wouldn’t have challenged her at all.
Reward her?
Yes, fucking please.
My eyes traipse over her body when we’re done and she’s standing in front of the mirror to get the full body view. There’s too much to look at. And I want to see it all.
I snap a few pictures before leading her back to the chair. Keeping my hands steady as I wrap up the new section isn’t easy to do. Not even a little bit.
Once I’m done, professionally, my hand lands on her bare knee. When her eyes cut to mine, they’re full of heat and need.
“I think you sat better today than you did before,” the words come out like a gentle purr.
I watch goosebumps rise on her skin and let out a soft grunt filled with satisfaction.
“Were you trying to impress me even more?” I chuckle the words, the sound wrapped up in sin and pushed into our skin with ink. “You didn’t need to. I was already thoroughly in awe of you, Cupcake.”
My hand slides up the inside of Lara’s thigh. She scoots back into the chair. When our eyes lock, she stops and time freezes.
I watch her weigh the moment. The possibility of it.
And I watch her choose to give in.
I’m not stupid enough to think it means anything more than her accepting the pleasure I’m offering her. For today it’s enough.
When I lean over her, I suck her hardened nipple into my mouth through the fabric of her bikini just as my hand reaches the apex of her thighs. The tips of my fingers slide over the fabric along her slit and she lets out a low whimper.
“Fuck,” I growl, “I bet your soaked.”
For me.
I nip her nipple before letting go and trailing kisses up her chest and neck. She’s panting as I pull the bikini bottoms to the side and touch her damp pussy lips. Her hips buck when I circle her clit even though I’m barely grazing her flesh.
“You respond so beautifully,” I murmur against her lips.
When she moans, I take her mouth in a kiss which sears itself into my soul. I taste her need and plunge two fingers inside her wet heat.
The way her legs fall open for me feels like being welcomed home.
I kiss her hard as I start to fuck her with my fingers. She rocks her hips in time with my movements. Her moans fill my mouth and my cock leaks in my fucking jeans.
But that’s okay.
I’ll be replaying this in my mind when I stroke my cock later. When I come, it’ll be Lara’s name on my lips.
I curl my fingers and find just the right spot, and she pulls away from me with a gasp as her head falls back. “Oh, fuck, right there,” her words are breathless.
And fucking priceless.
I wish she’d say my name just like that.
My thumb finds her clit and her eyes snap open. Her fingers slide into my hair and she pulls me closer. This time it’s her lips which find mine first.
While my fingers keep fucking her, my thumb moves in tighter circles on her clit.
The need to make her come thrums through me. It’s primal.
And dirty.
And probably wrong in at least three states.
I fuck her faster and the proof of just how wet she is for me fills the space around us. “That’s it,” I coax her, feeling her walls start to flutter around my fingers.
When her hips start to move, I match her movements, finding the rhythm she’s setting and then pushing it just a little faster.
I nip along her jawline and bury my face in the crook of her neck.
The sound of her moans washes over me; a fucking symphony I wouldn’t mind recording and playing back for myself even though it would become a dangerous obsession.
My voice is husky and barely controlled, my fingers keeping their pace and pushing her closer to the edge, “I knew you would sit so perfectly for me. Now,” I growl, “come.”
Lara shatters and it’s fucking glorious.
I slam my mouth down on hers and swallow her scream. She’s so wet and the sound are so fucking delicious that I’m barely able to hold back from coming in my jeans.
As Lara rides the wave of her orgasm, I gentle my movements and pull back just enough to watch her. The satisfaction written all over her face is fucking perfection. Later, I’m going to draw her just like this.
Flushed with pleasure in my tattoo chair with my ink on her skin.
When I kiss her again, it’s slower. I savor her and a part of me settles that never has before. It’s the part that always got me in trouble and made it hard for me to sit still unless I was drawing. It’s the part of me that makes the worst decisions and hunts down a thrill.
She makes a sound which is not quite pleasure, and I pull my fingers free before righting her clothes. Lara’s eyes widen when I suck my fingers into my mouth. The sound that comes out of me the second her taste hits my tongue is downright fucking feral.
“Oh wow,” she whispers, more to herself than me, “you really just did that.”
I smack my lips together and wiggle my eyebrows. “Next time, I’ll get it straight from the source.”
She covers her face with her hands. “You did not just say that.”
“I did,” I confirm.
There’s an awkward moment as we stare at each other, but I decide to just bulldoze right on over it. What, are we going to have a long talk about what this meant?
She sets the pace. End of discussion.
“Next time I’ll add a little more to your arm here,” my fingertips graze the spot where I’ll add another vine. “And I might add some flower clusters near the vines, but I want to see how everything is healing.”
Her blue eyes study me for a long moment. “I’m trying to decide if you’re seeking redemption because you want to become like the flowers on my arm or if you’re just scared of finding out you’re like the imagery on my flank.”
“Don’t say flank,” I automatically respond with my face scrunched in displeasure.
No. Nope. Not okay.
“I’m trying to become like the flowers and stay that way. I don’t want to rot,” I tell her honestly.
If she’s willing to talk to me about this, I know I can’t let the opportunity pass.
The letter was never going to be enough. Fuck, the tattoo isn’t even enough, but at least it’s something real.
“I spent a lot of time listening to the wrong person because I thought they needed someone in their corner, but I was wrong. The worst part was that the entire time, what I couldn’t reconcile was how every time I was close to you, I wanted you.” I chuckle and mutter, “Still do.”
“That is not how you tell a girl you like her,” she admonishes me. “I don’t believe in that ‘boys will be boys’ and might just pull your hair as a sign of affection bullshit.”
“I know,” my voice is hoarse. “The whole thing was a mess, and I hate how I was the one who was used to hurt you. You never deserved my ire and you sure as fuck never deserved to be used as a scapegoat for Lola’s psychosis.”
Lara shoots me a look like that should have been obvious right from the start. I rub the back of my neck and look away.
“I just want to show you that I’m not that man.”
“We’ll see.”
It might not sound like much, but when I lean in and steal one more kiss, she doesn’t pull away.