TAT Box Set

by Emjay Soren

  I make my way back over to the liquor cabinet and shuffle around until I find the Patron and hold the bottle up. "So, wanna get wasted and make bad choices?"

  She laughs and then shrugs her shoulders. "Why not! Fill 'er up boss."

  "I would love to fill 'er up, but I don't think she'll let me." I say and wink. I watch her cheeks flush and I may be addicted to that fire I light in her.

  "Well, then keep pouring until I forget why I won't let you."

  I look at her as she says it, my heart racing because I want her so bad. "Deal." I say, but I know it will never get that far. Fucking T and Carrie were right. I refuse to use Bright and know that I will defend and protect her.

  But damn, I want her.

  Fuck my life.

  Sometimes it's like someone took a knife baby

  Edgy and dull and cut a six-inch valley

  Through the middle of my soul

  Awolnation~I'm on fire

  Chapter Seven

  Bright

  I woke up to some foul taste in my mouth and my head pounding through my skull. I am in the bathroom and thank God because I lean to the left in time to empty a bottle of patron from my stomach.

  Trying to place what the fuck I did last night, I look around knowing my bathroom is not even remotely this nice. I look down and see I am in my white tank top and panties, nothing else, nipples on display and I am in Noah's bathroom.

  Panic isn't the right word, but full blown anxiety is and the beehive in my chest is erratic and God damn nuts.

  Images of last night come back in HiDef. The bald dick bouncer dude that insulted me, Noah comforting me as I cried, shots omg shots, a lot of them. Then I remember me placing a shot glass between my breasts and telling him to take it, which he did. He traced a pattern from behind my ear to the shot glass between my breasts, then sprinkled lime salt on the wet trail. Jesus he took the shot, his breath on my chest, shot it and licked that path back up to my ear.

  Fuck he licks his lips and kisses me.

  Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod! What did I do? I feel my stomach curl again and lean back over the toilet remembering with every violent lurch of my stomach, why I don't drink any more. Hangovers and bad, bad choices.

  Wanna get drunk and make bad choices?

  Fuck me, I wish I didn't remember.

  The thought of not remembering brought a sadness I didn't expect and that made me puke harder.

  Fuck me, I liked it…

  I sat back from the toilet and pulled my hair back. Looking up I saw the door open slowly and tried to stop it with my foot and missed. "Jesus Noah! Do you have an aversion to knocking?"

  He looks showered, clean and perfect dressed in black basketball shorts and no shirt and bare feet that somehow make him ten times sexier. I can smell his shampoo on his wet hair and that cologne he always wears. He is devastating, and I look like a hot fucking mess. "Calm down chucklehead, I thought you were still sleeping."

  "I slept in here?" I ask and lean my head back to try and stop the hammer in my head from pounding.

  He squats down in front of me and nods before handing me some pills and an orange Gatorade. "Yeah. I take it you can't remember last night?"

  I look up and take the Aspirin he is handing me and swallow them. The Gatorade is perfect and cold, not too sweet. "Thank you."

  He nods but stays squatting in front of me. "And no, I can't remember much… some though. We didn't…?"

  "No, your virtue is intact. I like my girls dirty and raw, comatose isn't really my thing."

  "I didn't mean it like that." I say and sit back groaning from the hell in my head.

  "I know." He says and scoops me up in his arms.

  "What are you doing?" I ask as he carries me through the bathroom door and sets me on his bed. His room says a lot about him and his style. Various pictures of bands, a lot of Alice in Chains, some gold records and a butt load of snowboard and skateboard stickers and various sports. His bedding though, is a Ouija board and I find it kinda creepy, kinda cool.

  But totally him.

  "I am letting you lay down obviously."

  "I can go to my bed Noah. I know you're busy."

  "Do I look busy?" He asks and lays next to me, pulling me until I am rested on his chest. "Besides the bus is gonna start moving again in about thirty minutes so I want ya close if you get sick again."

  I am so used to him giving me shit and teasing me endlessly, that I am unprepared for this sweetness. "Why did we stop?" I ask mindlessly as I trace a tattoo on his arm idly.

  "We needed to hook up to water so we could shower." I went to sit up and freak out, my head throbbing from the movement when he placed his hand on my head gently. "I made sure they filled the tank and the water heater is on so you can shower."

  He pulls from me and gets out of the bed and down the hall. I lay back on his pillows, perfect soft and expensive pillows and it feels so good. Not as good as laying on his chest was, but a damn good second option. He comes back in the room with two cups of coffee and a washcloth. He hands me a coffee and sets his on his night stand before laying back down and pulling me to his chest.

  "This will help the throbbing." He says and places the washcloth, cool and wet to my neck. We don't talk as I lay there, tracing his ink as he drinks coffee and stroking my back.

  I can feel the medicine working and I try to sit up and reach for my coffee, the washcloth falling from my neck. He takes it and tosses it to the bathroom doorway.

  I look over at him and grab the arm I was tracing, taking in his tattoos for the first time. "This is seriously cool." I say and trace the portrait of his sister on the inside of his bicep. She had to have been around sixteen maybe younger.

  "She's fourteen in that picture. I took it at our aunt and uncles house about two months after we moved to Gig. I think it was the fourth of July." He sips from his coffee, before letting me keep looking. "I love that pic because it was the first one I had of her, and in it you can see her happiness. When she turned sixteen I was nineteen and already tattooing and believe it or not her husband Chad did the work."

  "That's awesome. Very fitting." I say and decide I am gawking as it is I might as well take it all in. "So tell me the story?" I ask and go to pull back when he grasps my wrist to stop me, then holds my pointy finger and begins tracing his tattoos.

  "This side is the good, and my left is the bad and they come to war on my chest. The whole thing is symbolic. See the angel standing in front of the sun? She holds a scale, one with a pound of flesh, the other a pound of gold. The snake at the foot of the angel symbolizes my dad and the bird atop the scale symbolizes Carrie."

  He traces the lines over to his left arm. "See, here, all the skulls and bodies lined up." He rolls his arm to the inner forearm. "Here you see my vision with Freddy Kruger and Jason Voorhees. All depictions of evil." His hand stops when he comes to the inside of his arm and looks at me. "This is me, on the other side of the spectrum." I look at the rusty spoon in one hand and a needle in the other arm. He looks old and dirty and almost dead.

  I look up with tears in my eyes, tracing his arm on my own "I am so glad that you see both sides. That's strength Noah. Pretending it couldn’t go there is unhealthy, knowing it could have, and might even is amazing."

  "Now this side…" He says enthusiastically, officially changing the subject pulling my hand to trace the good. "This picture is Layne Staley. He was the singer of my favorite band Alice in Chains. He died of a heroin overdose, but he is on the good side because he inspired me to change, to run from our dad, so many things."

  His fingers guide me over his TAT logo, music lyrics from an Alice in Chains song that read:

  I don't wanna feel no more

  It's easier to keep falling

  Imitations are pale

  Emptiness all tomorrows

  Haunted by your ghost

  Lay down, black gives way to blue

  Lay down, I'll remember you.

  "Is this for her?" I don't say who, I kno
w as does he who I am talking about.

  "Yes. I got it about six months ago when I knew I was gonna live instead of die."

  "I think that it’s a perfect example of your ongoing love for her." I mean that too. Yes, I am totally crushing on some yummy Noah Beckett, but I would never feel an ounce of jealousy to the woman who changed his view to live. I can only assume she was amazing and very much missed.

  "Thanks." He says and lets my hand go. I follow the patterns and line work that fills the negative space and down his chest tracing the beautiful angel.

  "Does she represent anyone?" I ask as I look at the face that is the very definition of angelic.

  "Sometimes I think my mom. I don't remember her at all and I have thoughts sometimes that I can't explain. I swear she loved us, but we were just too young to remember her. I have two memories and they are good. One, she's playing the airplane spoon game with me and in the other she is tucking me in. When I look at the angel I think of her, but it was never intended to be her."

  There is a detachment as he talks about her that tells me he isn't connected in one way or another. Maybe she was a subconscious idea that represents both sides.

  Either way, it makes me sad. And I don't think either of us want to be sad right now.

  I lean down, unsure if what I am about to do is fair to either of us, but I can't help myself when my lips kiss the angels head. I can hear his breath catch, and close enough to hear his heart rate pick up. I pull back and look at him, unsure if I may have read him wrong.

  He takes my hand in his, the look in his eyes is that he is very much okay with what I did. "Keep touching me..." He says on a whisper and closes his eyes, breathing deep as my fingers trace the wings that span his entire chest.

  I reach the end point of the wings, in dangerous territory, here the letters of his last name span the line of the shorts he is wearing, low on his waist might I add.

  I trace the B and he groans in the most delectable way, and I can't stop. My skin is sensitive, my nipples peaked and desperate to be touched. I can see he is hard beneath his thin shorts and I want to taste.

  I move to the E and he shifts, stopping me by grabbing my wrist. I look up into his eyes that are glazed with need. "Stop… I can't."

  I nod and feel a blush of embarrassment fan my chest and face when he cups my chin. "I'm sorry, I know. No touching. None of that." I cringe from the look of passion in his eyes.

  "I want to… Fuck, I want your hands on me and more. But I can't offer anything else." He looks at me, begging me to know he wants me physically and nothing more.

  "I got it Noah, really."

  I try to pull back, but he won't let me. "I don't deserve to be the guy that gets you Bright. I am epically fucked up and emotionally unavailable. It's been four years for you and I ain't the worthy guy that breaks that spell, I wish like fuck I was."

  My humiliation only grows at his words. Even when let down in an unbelievably gentle way, it's still humiliating to know you won't be touched, ever, by the one you want most to touch you. I nod and pull back from his touch on my face. "I get it." I say and go to get up from the bed when he grabs my thigh and rolls me on top of him, my legs splitting to either side like a fuckin hussy. He thrusts up against me and I am throbbing in need.

  "I don't think you do." He says and licks the path from my chest to my neck again, thrusting himself against me again. I can't hold back the cry of pleasure it erupts in me. "Feel that? I bet your pussy is soaked, it'd be so easy to slip in and stay there all fuckin day." He rolls until I am beneath him and his lips are on mine. Any argument I had, ended when his taste on my tongue took my attention. I immediately twine my fingers in his hair and kiss him back.

  His cock, trapped beneath his shorts, is hard and hitting my clit every time he moves, and I am already so close to coming from the friction. Unable to stop, I tell him. "Oh God, so good. I need to come Noah." I cry out and he stops to look at me.

  He stares me down, lust clouding both our better judgment. He is propped on his hands by my head, his crotch pressing against mine. All I need is a shift… He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath and I am more scared of what was in his eyes than I am that he won't finish what he started…or I started? What we both started the minute we met in the PIT.

  His eyes are back on mine and he drops a sweet kiss to my lips…and thrusts against me. "Then come for me." He says and his hips start stroking me in a vigorous pattern that has me gasping and moaning and crying out for more. "You're close, I can tell, and fuck me I want to taste it Bright." His eyes are on mine. "I want in your pussy so fucking bad right now!"

  My thong was long ago soaked, but it has moved up with every thrust, until only a simple string lies between my lips and I am bare against his shorts which are soaked from both our need.

  "Just do it!" I say and I will later regret that but right now I only care about us both finishing. I arch when he presses harder and I'm done, I fly apart to a million tiny fragments that have me soaring on a sex high unlike any I have ever had.

  "Fuck yes, come girl…wish it was on my dick…sucking me in…Fuck!" He slams against me three times in short succession , his back tightening as he shakes and thrusts slowly against me. I can feel his orgasm, soaking against my skin even in his shorts.

  My pussy so sensitive that even the tiny thrusts send aftershocks through my body and I can't stop moaning and pulling him against me.

  "You're not done." He shocks me when he slips down my body and tugs my thong until it snaps, then buries two fingers in me, twists them, and,- "Oh, motherfuck!" I scream as he hits my spot and I gush all over his hand and the bed. His hand stays there, still working me as he comes up to me.

  "Gimme' your mouth girl!" He demands and I give in with no fight, his tongue invading as he continues to finger me, forcing orgasm after orgasm from me. His focus is on me and only me, my hands are locked up at the wrist over my head, shackled by his tight grip. After I kept trying to touch him he took my ability. "My turn to play, you can when I let you." He said and shut me up with his tongue in my mouth.

  My panties were long gone and I could see his cock, hard and straining against the wet spot on his shorts when he rolled to his back, pulling me on top of him.

  "Once more, ride me and make me come then I'll stop I swear." He groaned as I rocked myself against him, feeling something I couldn’t name, hitting my clit. As if he read my mind he pulled me down so my breasts were pressed against him, and we were face to face. "It's pierced, a lot. That's what you feel."

  As if he needed to be sexier, knowing he had jewelry and feeling it got me off big time. "Like that? One day, I swear to God, one day I will get in that sweet cunt and you'll feel it ten times stronger, come ten times harder."

  He sat and licked my neck when I arched at his words, his hands on my hips guiding me how he needed it.

  "Oh God damn it, fuck me please Noah, I can't take it." I cry and he laid back and slipped his hand between us and I swore he was about to get inside me when we heard one of the guys yell from the kitchen

  "Noah?"

  Ooooooh the fucking shame.

  "Fuckin Christ!" He growled and rolled us again and pounded against me in fast hard thrusts. "Hold on I'm getting dressed." He yelled and came down close to my ear. "This should be soaking and leaking out of you right now…fuuuuuck…" He almost whispered and sat up, whipped his shorts down and came right there on my bare pussy, fist tight on his cock and the glint from the ball through his cock head flashing with each stroke.

  Noah

  "Noah!!!" I hear Chad yell even louder this time and I want to punch his pretty boy face.

  "In a fuckin minute!" I shout and fall down over Bright. Her legs are around me and my head is resting on her chest as I try and catch my breath. I can feel my cum on my stomach once I laid over her.

  "You should go." She says and I can feel her tension like a bolt of lightning. I am just as tense and freaked out by whatever the fuck that was, but she wasn't s
omeone I was willing to toss away. Whether I liked it or not, I was into this girl big time.

  I pull back and look at the mess between us, how it’s a symbol to the big fucking screw up we just made. But I still smile and then look at her. "He can fuckin wait."

  I stand from the bed and grab the washcloth from earlier, rewetting it and head in to clean her up. "I can do that Noah." She says and reaches for the cloth.

  "My mess and all."

  "It's fine-"

  "Stop. I'll clean you." I rub the spots its smeared on her, avoiding any thought of how much I love my come on her. She is so stiff though it's pissing me off. I need to save at least a fraction of the friendship we've built this far. "Stop acting like you're sorry, even if you are. We are consenting adults and that shit was hot as fuck. Don't over think it or try to figure it out and chill. Feel me?"

  A small smile lines her lips and I know damn well she'll over think it because it's what chicks do, but for now she's cool so I will be cool.

  I run the washcloth over my chest and sack, my thoughts going a mile a minute and I lock myself in the bathroom so luckily she can't see me panic. I am freaked out that I lost control, a fuck ton of times. I lost control and almost fucked her, would have if GQ hadn't called my name and cleared the haze long enough for me to not fucking come inside her.

  Thank God for cock blockers like Blake.

  I'm fully panicking that I wanted to taste her, keep at her all fuckin day. My heart isn't clear for the taking and I can't offer her shit. I think of Candey and like that, I bend and empty my stomach in the toilet.

  I hope like hell she didn't hear me vomit.

  I brush my teeth again and head to get a shirt from my room when I see Chad sitting on the bed, head in his hands and Bright nowhere to be seen.

  Fucking stay calm… I tell myself, but a thousand different reasons why she bailed run through my head and I am fucking tired of her bailing.

  "She's in her room. Said she needed to dress." Chad says, the words muffled slightly from his head in his hands. He sits up and looks at me with a strange kind of sorrow. I don't know if it's for me, or for her or for what? "Wanna tell me why her hair was fresh fucked and she was wearing your boxers?"