CHAPTER SIX
ALEXANDRA JONES
CATHERINE GROANS, PUSHING HER FACE INTO MY PILLOW.
“You’re busy again? Seriously? When did you become so active?” I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Cathy. We can spend time together on Sunday,” I reassure her. She sat up on my bed, looking a bit sceptical.
“But don’t you go to church on Sunday?”
I look at myself in the mirror and adjusted the borrowed blue sundress that reached my ankle. It was a hand-me-down from Cathy’s mother, meant for church, but she didn’t like it. Instead of wearing it the way it was intended, I turned it into an off-shoulder dress, allowing a bit of skin to show and slightly more cleavage. I never cared about my appearance until now, and that isn’t a good thing. Why does a man have to join my life for me to care? I like it though. I like the feeling of finally having someone interested in me. Wait. What if he doesn’t like me like that? Why am I overthinking this?
“My parents spend the weekends at my Aunt’s place now, so I have some free time,” I explain.
Catherine sighs.
“It means I have two days off every week, and I get to do and dress however I want.”
It felt freeing.
And it truly is.
With my parents away, I had the freedom to be myself, to explore, and to express my individuality without the usual restrictions. It felt like a breath of fresh air, a chance to embrace my true self. I could tell Catherine is still processing the changes in me.
“Where are you going anyways?” Cathy asks, her curiosity evident. I knew I couldn’t tell her about Ares; she wouldn’t understand and would likely disapprove. What if she fakes more stories about him to get me to stop?
“Just going to Joey’s,” I lie, trying to keep a straight face. “He made me pomegranate juice and needs some books.”
Cathy eyes me suspiciously, waiting for me to give myself away with a tell-tale nose rub. But I managed to hold my hand steady, avoiding any signs of deception. She finally nods, accepting my explanation, and we left my bedroom together.
“When will you be done?” She asks as we walk out of the house.
“No idea, but I’ll call you, and you can come over for a movie?” I suggested, hoping to change the subject.
“I don’t want to watch a movie,” she declares.
“That’s fine, we can watch a series then.”
“Sounds better.”
“Oh, shit! Clark Johnson is coming over tomorrow!” I groan, running my fingers through my hair.
“Good luck, Alex,” she said, giving me a side hug.
We said our goodbyes, and I made sure to lock the door before heading to the bus stop, plugging in my headphones. As I wait for the bus, I couldn’t get Ares’ captivating physique out of my mind. The memory of how his body would react to my touch, the thrill of the moment, it all felt exhilarating and intoxicating.
However, my mind was leading me to the wrong things.
Catherine’s warning about how he was into more mature girls is sort of stopping me from thinking any further, what the hell would he want from me? A part of me knew that I should be more respectful of my parents’ wishes, but the rush and adrenaline were worth the temptation. With Cathy as my only other friend, I embraced my role as the ‘oddball’ at school, content with being unnoticed and avoiding unnecessary drama.
My focus was on getting through college without any hassles or torment.
But beyond Cathy, I found a special place in the hearts of Joey and Anna, his wife. They treat me like the grandchild they never had, and I cherished their relationship and the warmth they brought into my life. The love they showered upon me filled every piece of my heart, and I considered myself lucky to have such caring souls in my corner. I hop onto the bus, standing amidst the crowd, I held onto the pole.
A few stops later, I press the buzzer, signalling the driver to stop. Stepping off the bus, I could see the tattoo parlour ahead, my heart fluttering with anticipation.
Just a normal day.
I enter, the woman at the reception greets me with a soft smile. “Welcome, here for a tattoo?”
“I’m here to see Ares,” I reply.
She checked her computer, “name?”
But before I could say anything else, I heard Ares’ voice calling my name from behind. He signals for me to follow him, and I gladly oblige. I smile at the receptionist, who seems a bit tense, and trailed behind Ares as he led me into the same room as yesterday.
He closes the door behind us, and I couldn’t help but notice that he was still wearing the same shirt as before.
A teasing whisper escaped my lips, “you didn’t change your shirt?”
“I promised not to look at it, didn’t I?” Ares slips off his shirt and hands me a pen, I take it, setting my bag aside.
“I might take longer than two hours,” I warn, expecting some resistance.
“That’s fine,” he said, unfazed.
“Won’t your boss complain?”
“No. He won’t.”
With a flick of the pen, I place my hand on his body again, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my cold fingers.
“Fuck Alexandra, your hands are so cold,” he remarks, but I quickly withdrew them in embarrassment.
“Sorry,” I whisper, blushing slightly. “I warned you yesterday. I’m naturally cold-blooded.”
As I drew, my eyes caught sight of scars on his body, marking his past experiences. I graze my fingers over them, and he sucks in a breath.
“I just need to make sure it’s symmetrical,” I explain, my mind focused on the art in front of me.
Without thinking, I straddle him, sitting on his pelvis as I continue drawing. I lift my dress slightly, revealing more of my legs than I should have. His presence beneath me intensified the intimacy of the moment, but I didn’t let it distract me. I was determined to create something beautiful on his skin, to leave my mark in a way that felt uniquely ours.
I got closer to finishing, my hair fell around us like a curtain, but it didn’t stop him from reaching out. His finger gently pushes the strands behind my ear. This wasn’t just about a tattoo; it was about the connection we were forging, the trust we were building with every stroke of the pen.
He cares about what I think.
I don’t know why and neither does he, but it feels nice.
“I’m nearly done,” I whisper, my voice barely above a breath. “just a few more strokes…and done,” I whisper, sitting up, but our bodies were still dangerously close. He mirrors my movements, sitting up as well, and now our faces were just inches apart.
His eyes, those eyes, seem to search my soul. They look at me like they had seen a part of me that no one else had ever witnessed.
The tension between us was electric, and I wondered if he felt the same intoxicating pull that I did. His eyes travels down to my lips, and I found myself biting onto the bottom of them, unable to resist the desire that simmered between us. It felt as if we were suspended in time, the world fading away.
His thumb gently grazes my bottom lip, pulling it from beneath my teeth.
Why would he kiss me?
Isn’t it too early?
Isn’t it to early for me to feel like this?
But before anything more could happen, I muster the strength to slide off of him, breaking the spell that had enveloped us. He smirks, knowing full well the effect he had on me.
“Stop doing that.” I warn him.
“Stop doing what?” He grins.
“You know what.” I push a strand of my hair behind my ears.
“I don’t.”
“Anyways, what do you think?” I anxiously wait for his reaction to the tattoo I had crafted on his skin. He took his time, his eyes studying the art before him. My heart pounded in my chest as I awaited his verdict.
“This really good for an outline drawing,” he praised.
“Thank you,” I reply, “I should actually get going though.”
Ares slips his shirt back on, his dark curls falling slightly over his face. “I’ll come with you,” he said firmly, as if there was no room for argument.
“Oh, no need-” I started to say, but he interrupted me.
“It’s dark,” he insisted.
I nod, appreciating his protectiveness, and he put on his jacket before we walked out of the room.
“Lock up before you leave,” he said to the receptionist.
Ares settles the keys on the counter, and as he opened the door for me, we stepped outside into the cool evening air. We walk a few inches apart, as if there was an invisible barrier keeping us from getting any closer. My bare chest was exposed to the wind, and I shivered slightly.
Suddenly, I feel something drape over my shoulders, and I look up to see Ares offering me his jacket.
“Thank you,” I murmur, sliding my hands into the sleeves. His jacket is a bit too big for me, but I welcomed its warmth. Zipping it up. If I had known I would be staying with him for more than two hours, I would have brought something to keep me warm. I think I keep forgetting that it’s winter-not summer.
We continue walking until we reach the bus stop, and much to my delight, Ares stayed with me. The bright lights of the ads being displayed, the cars passing by as we wait.
“Who did your tattoos?” I ask him.
“I did.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I tattooed everything myself, don’t really like people touching me.”
But he let me.
“You tattooed all of this?”
He nods, leaning against the shelter of the bus stop stand. My curiosity got the better of me, and I reach out to touch his arms, gently grazing over the inked designs. His skin felt warm and rough beneath my fingertips, adorned with a tapestry of artistry. One whole sleeve on one arm, and smaller ones scattered on the other. Butterflies gracefully wrapped around his forearms, while little writings adorned his shoulder. I couldn’t help but lift his shirt slightly to reveal more, brushing my thumb against the inked patterns.
“I’ve always wanted a tattoo,” I admitted wistfully.
“So, why don’t you get one,” he suggested with a nonchalant shrug.
I scoffed, feeling a pang of longing mixed with restraint. “I can’t. Parents. Catholic,” I explain, knowing the disapproval that would follow if I ever went against their beliefs.
They would probably kick me out of the house.
Ares slowly zips down the jacket he had lent me, and my heart flutters at the closeness between us. His fingertips brushes against my abdomen before reaching the lower dip between my breasts. I caught my breath, feeling the electric charge in the air. His gaze locks with mine, his eyes holding a mixture of desire and mischief.
“A butterfly would look nice here, and here...” he murmurs, trailing his hands to the sides of my waist. My heart pounded as he continues, “a snake...” He touched the other side of my waist, and I couldn’t help but feel the intensity of his touch. “A spider.”
My breath hitched as he touched underneath my left breast.
“Writing,” he said, his voice low and suggestive.
My heart races, and it felt as if a test was unfolding between us.
“And here...” his finger trails along my skin.
Until he reaches the middle of my neck.
“Another butterfly.”
“What’s your obsession with butterflies?” I push his hand out the way, trying my hardest to not jump on him and do the unimaginable. “You call me butterfly; you tattoo butterflies all over yourself and everywhere I turn- all I see is butterflies in your store.”
“You don’t like butterflies?” He asks me.
“I do-stop trying to find a way out of answering my questions. You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“You’re doing it again!” I groan, but he smirks.
“Someone is getting flustered.” He whispers out.
I push him gently, “no I’m not!”
“You’re adorable when you’re flustered, you know that?” His tone is teasing, but there’s an underlying warmth that softens the jest.
Before anything more could transpire between us, the bus came to a halt, and I quickly step inside, with Ares following closely behind. The bus is packed, and we found ourselves in a corner, pressed against each other. I couldn’t reach the handles on the ceiling to maintain my balance, Ares grabbed one, looking effortlessly composed.
As the bus hit a bump, I struggle to keep my balance, but Ares reacted instantly, wrapping his strong arm around my waist, and pulling me into the safety of his body.
“We could have just taken my car, butterfly.” He whispers into my ear, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. I smiled, feeling a mixture of nervousness and exhilaration as I lifted my head, accidentally brushing our noses together. Never had I been this close to a man before, and the feeling was weird. Ares seemed like the first chapter in a whole new book, one that you can’t skip. And one that I don’t want to skip.
He is looking at me as if trying to decipher the depths of my soul, as if he wanted to know every intricate detail of my story. Little did he know that my life was as bland as an empty page, with no exciting stories to tell. But being with Ares made me feel like my story had just begun, like there was so much more to explore and discover.
I knew my stop was approaching, so I press the buzzer.
The bus gradually came to a halt, and Ares releases his hold on me as we stepped outside.
“I’ll walk you home,” he offers, his eyes searching mine.
“No need,” I replied, trying to hide my fluttering emotions. “I live just down the road anyways.” I slide his jacket off, handing it to him. I hesitate before asking. “But I’d like for us to be friends, if you want to.”
A mischievous smile dance on his lips, and he chuckles softly. “Oh Alexandra, I don’t think we can be just friends.”
My heart sank at his words, fearing I had done something wrong. “And why is that?”
He leans in closer.
“Because I can’t cross the line of wanting you underneath me if I’m just your friend. So, no, we’re not going to be friends.”
My breath caught in my throat as I absorbed his words. The raw honesty in his confession sent shivers down my spine. His masculine scent enveloped me, leaving me intoxicated and craving more.
He wanted me.
The realisation is intimidating.
I stood there, lost for words, feeling the intensity of his desire filling the air around us. Unable to form a coherent response, I simply nodded and waved farewell before hurrying towards the end of the road. I couldn’t resist the urge to look back, but to my surprise, Ares had disappeared, as if he were a fleeting dream. My heart pounded in my chest as I walk the rest of the way home, replaying the encounter in my mind. Ares had left an indelible mark on me, and I knew that no matter what happened next, my life would never be the same again.
But one thing was certain: Ares had awakened something inside me, something passionate and electric.
And I’m not letting it go.