35
Leaving Me Hanging
Kami
Keaton: The party wasn’t the same without you. Those neighbourhood savages can be pushy. It was touch and go for a bit, but I survived on my own. But pls never leave me alone again!
I laugh as I see the message appear. Wiping my hands after I finish washing a few dishes Jane had left in the sink, I sit at the kitchen table and text him back.
Me: Were you missing my ability to model for the masses how to swallow Jell-O from those paper ketchup-holder cups like nobody’s business?
Keaton: Yeah, that, plus I missed the view.
Damn, this man is smooth. Everything’s an innuendo even when it’s not.
Me: My view was pretty nice, too. Faith has some really nice friends with lots of muscles, so it made for a quick move.
The move was the reason my family missed the Labour Day pool party and barbecue at the Hatfields’, for the first time in years. My younger sister, Faith, needed help moving and getting her stuff settled into her new apartment in Toronto. She’s starting her first year of business school at the University of Toronto tomorrow, and, Faith being Faith, left moving in until the last minute, hence all of us being called upon to go help at the last minute.
Keaton: Your view was “muscles”? Kam. Don’t test me.
I giggle, imagining his face. I love it when he gets all growly.
Me: Oh sorry, lost my train of thought. I meant the view out her living room window. It looks out over a really cute park.
Keaton: You’re such a shit.
Me: I aim to please!
Keaton: You ready for the big first day of school tomorrow?
Me: Yeah. I think this will be the first year in forever I haven’t been a little hungover on the first day lol!
Keaton: I’ve been such a terrible influence over the years.
Me: You really were. And to think, I was so innocent…
Keaton: Fuck, I know. Thinking that makes me ha
That’s all I get. “Ha—”.
I wait a minute.
Two.
“Makes you what?”
What?
Happy?
Hard?
“Harney”?
“What???!!!”
After eight minutes, still nothing.
Me: What?
Silence.
Me: Keaton!
Me: Hello? What’s “ha”?
Damn him. His texts have stopped.
Frustrating. Feeling we were at a really good plot point, I’m about to call him when my phone buzzes in my hand. Eastlyn’s name appears. I swear the universe has me destined to live in limbo as a virgin for life!
Instead of harbouring resentment about my current condition, I greet Eastlyn and ask jovially, “How was the big barbecue?”
“It was fun. My mom went all out, as per usual. You were missed. I think Keaton might have noticed you weren’t there. He manned the Jell-O shots station looking bored and mournful. He’s used to having his partner in crime there.”
“I hated missing it. Yeah, Keat told me he felt a little overwhelmed being in charge of the Jell-O shots all by himself,” I share, and can hear her smiling through the phone.
“Ah, so, you two’ve spoken already, eh?”
“East. Don’t do that. I told you, we’re friends,” I scold.
“Still doesn’t mean I can’t try to push this along…” she starts.
My phone pings. Unable to stand not knowing if it’s Keat, I quickly remove the phone from my ear to check. It is.
“Anyway, it’s late, and I better get going,” I say, no clue if she’s still talking or what about. She sounds as distracted as I am. Regardless, I am clearly a horrible friend, but I’ll make it up to her.
“Er…ee…ah, yeah, okay. I’ll see you in the morning?” she says, a little winded, but I don’t bother to ask why.
“You will, you lucky thing,” I say, “with a tray of coffee in hand. ’Night.”
“Goodnight.”
I check Keat’s message.
That son-of-a-cake-baker!
Keaton: Ha, I’ll never tell.
Keaton: Good luck tomorrow, babe.
Keaton Hatfield is the devil in human form.
36
Mr. Fix It
Keaton
“Are you sure you’ll be okay? You’ll be alone here until five,” Mo says, and I can see the worry in her blue eyes. She’s just received a call from her daycare provider saying her four-year-old daughter is sick and needs to be picked up.
“Go. Be with Clover, make sure she’s okay. I can handle it. My next appointment isn’t for forty-five minutes, and Tristan said he’ll come in as early as he can. Just get out of here.”
“All right, thank you. I’m so sorry.”
“Mo, relax. Clover is what matters. I’m sure all she wants is her mom.”
“Thanks, Keat. I’ll make up the hours,” she starts, and I raise my hand to stop her.
“You will not. It’s all good.”
“And you sure you’re okay fixing that nipple piercing for me?”
“I think I remember how.” I roll my eyes. Of course, I remember. I’m actually a pretty good piercer myself, it’s just that I prefer tattooing.
“Perfect. The new barbell is on my table, sterilized and ready to go. Tell my client she’s a dumb-ass for losing her old one, but that I’m sorry I had to leave,” Mo adds, a sly smile appearing on her face, as if she’s in on a joke I’m not.
“Go.”
“I’m going. Thank you again!”
“Mo!” I say, exasperated, and she laughs as she opens the door. “Let me know if you and Clover need anything. I can pop by after work.”
She blows me air kisses of gratitude as she finally exits.
I head back to her workroom, grab the tray with the small barbell and everything else I need from her desk, taking it back to start setting up in my own room. Ten minutes later, I hear the bell chime, and make my way to the front to greet Imogen’s client and explain that I’ll be the one replacing her jewellery today.
“Keaton?” She seems shocked to find me here.
“Oh, hey, Kam!” I feel myself smile. Man, she’s a sight for sore eyes. Her hair is styled in natural waves reaching just above her shoulders, and a tight black pencil skirt hugs her curves and draws my attention down to her long and lean runner’s legs. The short-sleeved, emerald-green blouse she has tucked in at her waist makes her eyes look an almost whiskey colour.
I feel like I haven’t seen her in weeks, although in reality she was over at my parents’ house last weekend to celebrate my shop appearing in the October issue of INKED magazine. My mom baked one of her outrageous cakes (this time shaped like a pretty wicked tattoo iron, even I have to admit), and invited our close family, friends, and my colleagues to help me commemorate the moment like she always does.
With the shop being featured, business has skyrocketed, meaning I’ve had to work a shit ton more than ever before. I’ve had to skip out on trivia nights, too, for work, which has killed me because I feel some distance growing between Kami and I again (a feeling I hope is something in my head, because that’s the last thing I want). Seeing her here before me confirms it. And as soon as shit slows down at the shop, I’m going to make sure she knows how much I’ve missed her.
“I didn’t think you’d be here,” she says, and it doesn’t sink in right away.
“I had to switch up my timetable again this week, we’re swam—” I cut myself off. “Aren’t you here to see me?”
She shifts nervously from one foot to the other. I round the counter to stand in front of her.
“I’m here for an appointment with Mo, then I was hoping we could visit for a few minu–”
“You’re Mo’s nipple piercing fix?” I interrupt, hoping my voice doesn’t crack and give me away. My cock instantly hardens, as I think of Kami’s pierced nipples under that sexy blouse of hers. I can’t believe this is happening.
�
��Uh, yeah. Is Mo here?”
I step in closer. “Not anymore. Clover’s sick, so she had to run out. Most of the guys are working afternoons this week, so it was no big deal to let her go home early. Tristan will be here soon, and Brody and a couple of the other guys, but it’s just me until then.”
“Oh.” She looks panicked. And I know why.
“I can fix it, Kam. You know I used to pierce, and still do when I have to. I can easily slip a new barbell into place. It will only take a second.” I might have to jerk off immediately after, but I’ll do it.
Kami’s silent. I can see her hesitating, going over her options. “We need to fix it, Kam. The hole could close if you leave it too long. When did you notice the barbell was missing?”
“Last night. I called, left a message on Mo’s voicemail, and she told me to come in right after work.”
“It’s okay, Kam. Let me fix it.” I reach for her hand, and she lets me take it. I walk us to the front of the store, flip the lock and the “Back in Fifteen” sign, then lead her to the back to my workspace.
“Keat,” she says, looking up at me as we stop at the threshold of my room, our hands still joined.
“It’s me, Kam. It’ll be fine,” I assure her, our eyes locked, hands together.
“That’s the problem. It’s you.” She blushes at her confession, and I nod in understanding, because this is a huge deal. For both of us.
“Baby. It’s only a problem if you don’t want it to be me.”
She squeezes my hand, her light hazel eyes never wavering, silently giving me her answer. We move into the space. My sanctuary, the place I am my best version of myself. Sketches, photos, and messages of appreciation adorn the walls, and yet the only thing that stands out to me is Kami as she sits on the edge of my InkBed. It’s quiet while I set up. I can feel her eyes silently following my movements as I wash my hands in the sink and slip on a pair of gloves.
I step towards her and she opens her legs, inviting me in. And I swear I die a little with the gesture.
“Lift your arms above your head.” My voice is gravelly, and I wonder if she can tell I’m as nervous as she is, if not more. But she does what I ask. My eyes trail down her front, stopping on her chest, knowing now what’s waiting for me.
“Keat?” She says my name, drawing me back to her. I’d zoned out, the feeling of having her here like this is surreal.
“You want to take it off or me?” I ask.
“You.”
I move my hands to her waist. She gasps when my hands untuck then pull her blouse up over her torso, my fingers purposely grazing her skin as I lift the fabric. Her legs tremble slightly, tightening around me enough so that I notice.
“Unhook your bra,” I say, after I’ve pulled the green blouse over her head and off. It’s a command, and Kami’s eyes flare. Her arms reach around her back to the clasp. Slowly, she pulls the straps down, and the purple satin cups fall, first one, then the other. I almost fall to my knees as my legs go weak.
“Fucking perfection,” I growl, my eyes taking in her beauty. My cock weeps, she’s made me so hard, my dick now a steel rod. Her tits are full with nice, round pink nipples, a sexy-as-fuck 16-gauge stainless steel barbell in her left one.
I rest my hands on her hips, needing to touch her before I lose my mind. I lean in and rest my forehead against hers, dropping a gentle kiss on her nose.
“I thought I could do this. I’m so fucking jacked right now, Kam. I need a minute,” I say into the shell of her ear.
“Touch me, Keat. Please. I want you to make me feel good,” she utters, and I’ve found my new happy place—her in my shop, begging for my touch.
Shifting in closer, I meet her eyes, confirming it’s what she wants. Kami—my little Hellcat—has had enough. She takes my hands and places them over her breasts. On instinct, I cup each mound, and my right thumb begins to thrum against the barbell, rolling the nipple ever so gently, given the newness of her piercing. The actions elicit the sexiest sounds to fall from Kami’s mouth.
“I’m going to suck on it,” I warn her, a second before I wrap my mouth around her pierced nipple, and suck.
“Oh my God, Keaton. Holy shit.”
“Feels good, eh, baby?” I confirm, before going right back at it. Kam’s legs wrap around my hips, pulling me in closer. Her arms wrap around my head, securing me in place while I’m gently sucking. She’s moaning and her hips move closer and closer to the edge of the chair. I remove my mouth with a pop.
“No. Don’t stop. I’m so close. It’s crazy, but I am,” she pleads, and fuck me if it isn’t music to my ears.
I adjust my cock as Kam shifts up onto her knees like a mad woman, and reaches out, grabs me, and all but hauls me back in as close as I can get. Our lips crash, and I see stars. Our tongues battle for dominance as my hands continue to grip her hips, squeezing before bunching up her skirt and slowly sliding it upwards, giving Kam the opportunity to stop me.
“Yes. Do it, Keat,” she says, sucking on my bottom lip. We both groan when the pads of my fingers trail over the outside of her purple panties. A place my hands have longed to visit for what feels like a lifetime. Her body sways forward as if tethered to my hand, and I shift the scrap of material to the side, giving us both the relief we crave.
“Your skin’s so soft,” I say into her neck, inhaling the scent I love most—her—while lightly trailing a path along her lips with the fingers of my free hand.
“Please,” she moans, her head lolling forward towards me, and I kiss her softly on the mouth as I slip a finger inside her.
“Fuck, Kam, so warm. You’re fucking drenched for me,” I rumble into her neck again. I tug a little at her nipple ring.
Her body is on stimulation overload, and she starts to rock on my finger. Our gaze meets and holds, and she nods, silently telling me she wants more. I give her a second digit, my touch deliberate, and my pace quickens when I flutter the right spot causing her to moan louder than before, her beautiful eyes never wavering from mine. They might close for a half-second as she grinds down on my hand, but her focus always comes back to me. “Touching the inside of you like this is making me hard as fuck, Kamilla,” I tell her truthfully because, fact is, I might come in my pants from the feel of her alone.
“Oooohh, god, Keeeeat!”
I curl my fingertips, playing her pussy like a conductor.
“I want my cock in you so bad, Kami.” I move my head in closer to start sucking on her tit, laving at the barbell, swirling my tongue around it and pulling on it that little bit. I elicit a sexy-as-fuck growl to fall from the back of Kam’s throat. I shift my body, repositioning myself so I’m able to rub my cock against her thigh, desperate for friction and whatever form of contact I can get.
Within seconds, Kami’s lit, her pussy clenching my fingers as she rocks herself against my hand catching and trapping her orgasm, “That’s it, Hellcat, take it, let me see you fall apart,” I encourage, as she moves faster, wilder, and without inhibitions before screaming out my name and collapsing forward against my chest.
“Wow,” is all she says, kissing my neck, and making me smile because all I can think is I did that.
“That good, eh?” I ask, a few minutes later.
“Imagine with both rings?” she looks up at me dreamily, and I tilt my head back and laugh.
“Let’s get you cleaned up. Mo will kill me if I give you Puffy Alien Tit.”
“On my god, what?”
“Don’t worry it’s been long enough, you’re safe, I would’ve never touched you like that if you weren’t ready. Sometimes if you play with them too soon, they can get swollen or infected. Mo calls it Puffy Alien Tit,” I say, as I clean the area with a sea-salt solution before I quickly slip in and secure the new barbell.
We spend the next fifteen minutes teasing each other, laughing, and unable to hide our smiles. I’m grateful things didn’t turn awkward.
“I better go,” she says, “I told Jane I’d meet her after for dinner and a m
ovie. Seems she might be moving out of my Maison Jaune soon. She and Jer have been talking, and it’s going really well,” Kam tells me, and I’m happy for her sister and Jeremy. They’re good together, and I’m happy to hear they’re working their shit out.
“Sooo, I have a serious question before I go,” Kami says, giving me her best puppy dog eyes and a pout.
“This isn’t going to be good, is it?” I tilt my head to the side.
“Well, I wanted to ask if you’d book me in for my tattoo now? I’ve been patient, and clearly I don’t have regrets about my piercings so I figured you can see that I’m really ready,” she says, looking hopeful, and bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Also, the Little Guelph Theatre is performing The Rocky Horror Picture Show next week, I just saw, and I want you to go with me. You’re the only one I know who will tolerate it.” She smiles wide, positioning her hands in a praying/please pose.
“Jeez, I wish I could, but I’m booked solid, Kam. I was lucky to be able to block off the time just to grab some food.” I rub the back of my neck.
“Oh, okay. I thought maybe you could squeeze it in. It’s been years since Rocky Horror’s been—know what? Never mind…it’s fine,” she says, her voice betraying that it’s not fine. I feel bad, I do, but like I said, this is my chance and my business. I can’t take time out right now when new clients are pounding down my door just to go see a play.
“Don’t be pissed, okay? Once things settle down a bit, I’ll make it up to you. I just need Inkredible to be my priority right now,” I say, reaching for her hand.
“You’re right. Sorry for being sulky, I get it, and I’m so excited for you guys, you deserve all the accolades,” Kam says, squeezing my hand. “I’ll drag your sister along, instead. I’m sure I’ve got blackmail material on her that I can cash in.” We laugh. “And the tatt?” She raises a brow.
“No can do. Booked solid for at least the next month. I couldn’t squeeze you in if I wanted. And I’m still not convinced I do, Little Miss Incognito.”
“You suck. One day you’ll give me my tatt, Keat. One damn day. I’ll figure out the way to make you see I’m ready.”
First Love (Winning at Love Book 2) Page 20
