Chapter 3
Kiki
As soon as I enter my apartment, I toss my keys into the bowl and kick my shoes off by the door as I close and lock it behind me.
Today was long. Things got wild after Theo and Ezra left the shop.
I ended up not finishing a tattoo on a biker because he fainted.
Then, Mason called in sick, so I had to take one of his clients who refused to reschedule, and Oliver got upset when some cowboy came in to talk to Bull.
I’m not sure what the deal was with that, but the guy’s daughter apparently upset Oliver after their high school graduation night a few weeks ago.
That little encounter ended with Oliver storming up to the apartment he has over the shop and not coming back down.
To say I’m exhausted is an understatement.
All I want right now is a bubble bath and a glass of wine, followed by curling up in bed with a book and my cat Moe.
I don’t even want dinner tonight. Of course, that could be because after Ezra brought me the pastry from next door, Bull came in with donuts, and his wife brought everyone Chipotle for lunch.
Pastries and burritos are my weaknesses. I’m so full I could burst.
I grab the bottle of Riesling chilling in my fridge and head straight to my bathroom, stripping as I go.
Moe jumps on my bed as soon as my clothes start flying, and I can practically hear his eyes roll back in his head as he regards me.
He’s a rescue, so I’m not sure how old he is.
All I know is he’s definitely the boss. Honestly, I’m lucky he puts up with me.
“Sorry, Moe,” I say in a soft voice. “I’ll snuggle with you as soon as I wash off the day.”
He stretches out on my pillow. I go to him and scratch him behind his ears until he decides he’s had enough and bats my hand away.
“Love you too, Mr. Meanie.”
Inside the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and pause, frowning at what I see.
My sister is tall and thin like our dad, but I got our mother’s genes.
I’m short and plump. I believe the word is Rubenesque, or at least that’s what I learned in my one semester of college when I took Art History.
As I fill the tub, I think of Theo’s dad. He was frantic at first, but once he calmed, I found myself mesmerized by his inky eyes. I wonder if Ezra likes women with thick thighs that jiggle.
Ezra.
That man is absolutely gorgeous. What I wouldn’t give for a night with him. But he’s probably not interested. Not that it matters. I doubt I’ll ever see him again. Still, I wouldn’t mind him putting an end to my dry spell.
I turn off the water and slip into the warm water, moaning at how good it feels.
This must be heaven. As I twist the cap off my cheap bottle of wine, I hear Moe jump off the bed.
He’s probably going to the front window so he can watch the neighbor’s house.
This is the time of night their teenage daughter gets dropped off at home by her boyfriend.
They usually spend a good twenty minutes steaming up the windows of his car.
Moe is like a nosy old lady. He never misses anything going on outside our window.
Oh, to be young again. I haven’t made out with a guy I like in what feels like forever. Sighing, I reach for my trusty waterproof bullet. The only action I see these days is exclusively with my toys. On the plus side, they never disappoint me like men do.
I turn on my vibrator and drag it along my chest, circling each nipple.
As tingles run up my spine, my thoughts turn to Ezra.
My pussy floods with warmth as I picture him stripping out of his flannel shirt.
I don’t know what his chest looks like, but in my imagination, it’s perfect.
He probably has some ink and a nice patch of chest hair.
Even his fluffy midsection turns me on. Dad bods are hot.
I press the vibrator against my clit. My loud moan fills the bathroom, echoing off the walls. I imagine him caressing and licking my body as he dominates me. Fantasies play out as I touch myself. In no time, I’m reaching orgasmic levels of pleasure.
“Ezra,” I cry, arching my back as my inner walls spasm. My entire body tenses as I ride the waves of my release.
Breathing hard, I sit up, turn off my vibrator, and chug the rest of my wine. Did I really just touch myself to fantasies about a stranger I met earlier? What the hell is wrong with me?
My phone buzzes, and I reach for it, still caught up in my thoughts of Ezra. “Hello?”
“Kiki?” a deep voice asks, sending a jolt straight to my core.
“Um, yes? This is she.”
“Hey. This is Ezra.” When I don’t respond because I’m trying to figure out if I cried his name so loudly when I orgasmed that he heard from wherever he is, he continues. “I’m the madman who ran into the tattoo shop frantically searching for his runaway kindergartener.”
I laugh at his description. “Oh, hey. What’s up?”
“I was wondering. . . never mind. This is a mistake. It’s late. I should let you go.”
“No! Wait,” I yell before he can end the call. “Why did you call?”
He lets out a slow breath. “I wanted to know if you were busy tomorrow.”
Disappointment hits. Of course. A tattoo. To think that I thought he was calling to come over and wrestle in my sheets. That’s what I get for reading all those steamy romance novels.
“I have three tattoos in the morning and one around 2:00 in the afternoon. I could squeeze you in after for a consultation.” I try to keep my tone professional and not let on that I wish he had called for a different reason.
He clears his throat. “Oh, um, no. I don’t want you to tattoo me.”
My stomach tightens. “Okay,” I say, unable to hide my disappointment. “Did you want Oliver? He’s an apprentice, but he does excellent work. I’m not sure what tomorrow looks like for him, though. You might have to wait. He prefers advanced notice.”
“No. You misunderstood. I want to take you out to dinner.”
I’m so shocked that I almost drop my phone in the bathtub, causing Moe to come into the bathroom to check on me.
“You still there?” he asks.
“Sorry. I’m in the bathtub and almost dropped my phone. Dinner tomorrow would be good,” I say, clearing my throat.
He lets out a strangled breath, then coughs. “Would you like me to pick you up at the shop around 5:00?”
“Can we make it 6:00? I’ll need to run home and shower first.”
“Sounds perfect. I’ll see you then.” He ends the call, leaving me to squeal in delight.
I kick my feet, splashing water over the side of the tub. When it splashes Moe, he hisses at me and darts from the bathroom.
Holy crap! I can’t believe Ezra called. It’s as if my orgasm summoned him.