by Ranae Rose
“Schubert showed up on my doorstep back in Buffalo one day and just kind of stuck around. My roommate there was a computer programmer and worked a lot of hours. Sometimes he’d get in the zone and I’d barely see him for days. I’m pretty sure he forgot to eat and drink himself sometimes, so I didn’t really trust him to take care of another living creature on his own.”
Zoe smiled down at Schubert, who just blinked.
“So you take in stray cats,” she said, standing when Schubert stalked off, apparently bored with her attentions. “I wonder what that says about you inviting me to live here?”
“I don’t take in just any cat. Schubert is special.”
“Oh?”
“He’s a fighter. I watched him beat up two dogs before I finally broke down and let him live in our apartment.”
“Is that how he wound up with missing body parts?”
“Nah. By the time he started beating up the neighborhood dogs, his tail and the tip of his ear were long gone. I took him in because my neighbors were afraid to let their pets go out to take a piss at night.”
“Hmm. I’m really not sure what that says about how you see me.”
“You’re no Schubert,” Noah said. “You’re much prettier. I’m sure you could inflict some damage with those nails, though.” He took one of her hands, holding it lightly in his own, and raised it toward the light. Her freshly-manicured nails glistened a vivid shade of fuchsia. “Schubert would approve. I’m sure that’s why he let you pet him – usually he shuns visitors, you know.”
She couldn’t help but smile, even though her stomach had been tied in knots ever since he’d made his offer earlier that day. Her nails were a point of pride – they were all natural, not acrylic, and she did her own manicures. Nail painting was the only remotely artistic talent she had, so she went all out, making time to keep them perfectly shaped and lacquered.
“Anyway,” he said after holding her hand for a few seemingly endless moments, “let’s get this tour started. We’ve got white walls to stare at and futons to admire.”
As it turned out, there was only one futon – the sole piece of furniture in the living room, which Schubert took to lurking under, his stubby wisp of a tail twitching as he stared out from beneath with topaz eyes. Noah was right about the walls being all white though, and really, the apartment was a series of open spaces with boxes stacked in corners, a blank canvas as far as décor went.
A roomy bed dominated one bedroom. The second was empty and significantly larger than the closet she’d been shown the day before.
“It even has its own window,” he said, as if he’d read her mind.
“I see that. I have to say, I’m impressed with how fit for human habitation this place is. After the madhouse I visited yesterday, this apartment is a breath of fresh air. Literally.” She had to resist the urge to wrinkle her nose at the memory of the smoky fog that had filled the other apartment. “That being said, I’m sure this place runs you more than anything else I’d considered.”
She hated to bring up money, but it was utterly necessary.
“The rent’s not too bad, really. I shopped around before signing the lease.” He quoted her a figure for her share of the rent that nearly had her jaw dropping.
“That seems too low. For a place like this? Surely my half would be more.”
“I pay extra every month to have Schubert,” he said, deadpan. “And of course, that cost wouldn’t be passed on to you. So yeah, my share would technically be higher than yours.” He tipped his head toward the short hallway that led to the living room. “Think of it as having two roommates, not one.”
“You’re just being nice. Don’t tell me you feel sorry for me.” She glanced instinctively in the direction of the living room, thinking of Schubert. Noah didn’t see her as another needy stray who’d stumbled into his life, did he?
He stared directly into her eyes, and the look she saw in his gaze wasn’t one of pity. “I hope I’m being nice, because a part of me wonders whether I’m being just the opposite.”
“What do you mean?”
“Bad. Selfish. I like the idea of you staying here. I like it a hell of a lot, actually. But yeah, I want to help, too. I keep telling myself that’s why I’m doing this, even though I know part of my motivation is strictly selfish. I want you around, Zoe. I want you here. Sharing this place with you would be far from a burden.”
Her mouth went dry, and she struggled to come up with something to say as his words lit a spark of pleasure inside her. It felt good to be wanted by him – wanted back – and the look in his eyes made a part of her want to lock the deadbolt and never leave. Almost gleefully, she imagined living with Noah.
Seeing him before work. After work. Sleeping with nothing but a few inches of drywall between them, and sharing the sparse affections of Schubert. It all seemed like something out of a daydream. Was it stupid of her to think it could work?
“You’re my boss,” she said. “People are always saying what a risk workplace relationships are. Nobody ever says anything about how living with your boss could turn out – I assume because no one besides me has a boss crazy enough to offer.”
He appeared thoughtful for a moment, though he never removed his gaze from hers. “If it turns out I’m a slob and you’re a shower-hog and we hate living together, I promise not to fire you because of it.” He raised one hand slowly, extending his little finger. “Even if we fight over whose turn it is to do the dishes. Pinky swear.”
That caught her off guard. Slowly, she raised her hand too, skin tingling as she prepared to touch his. “Pinky swear – is that legally binding in the commonwealth of Pennsylvania?”
“I don’t know. I’m the one who’s new here. I could ask my attorney.”
“Don’t. They charge way too much per hour to waste time on a pinky swear question – I saw the bill from your last session when I was organizing those files the other day. I’ll just have to trust your word. Er, your pinky.” Before she could second-guess herself, she linked her little finger with his.
It was absurd that the contact felt sexy, but it did. She liked being linked to him, and a sense of satisfaction rose up inside her as she stared around the apartment – her new apartment, at least for a few weeks.
The pinky-lock quickly turned into something more – hand holding, and then Noah was pulling her closer, eliminating the space that had separated them. “Will you need help moving your stuff over here?”
“I don’t have a lot – I could probably fit most of it in boxes in my car. I’ll need help moving my bed, though.”
“Jay has a pick-up truck. I’m sure he’ll be glad to let us use it. I’ll ask him about it tomorrow.”
“If he’s not able to lend a hand right away, I can just camp out on the futon. No big deal.”
“You’ll have to fight Schubert for it – he’s already attacked me for sitting in his sleeping space. It’s the far right corner of the cushion, by the way – consider yourself warned.”
A smile leapt to her lips but was quickly tempered by another wave of worry as she thought back to the discussion they’d been having before he’d charmed her with his pinky swear. “About my share of the rent—”
“The figure I quoted you is firm.” He arched one brow and raised a hand. “Don’t think you can talk me down just because you’re so beautiful.” A smirk twisted one corner of his mouth, and God help her, she even thought that was sexy. “I’ll need the cash to make up for what I’ve spent on fancy chocolates in the past week.”
Behind the teasing light in his eyes, there was a stubborn expression.
She believed that he paid an extra charge per month to have Schubert around, but she wasn’t so sure the amount he’d quoted her was really her fair share. Not with utilities figured in, anyway. For a moment she considered asking to see the lease agreement, but her will wavered at the last second. She couldn’t deny that this was an ideal, if unexpected, solution to her problems. If she simply accepted it…
“Thanks,” she said eventually. “Is it all right if I wait a few days to get my first monthly share to you? Either until I get my next paycheck from Hot Ink or my one and only check from Sugar Panda.”
He waved his free hand – the one that wasn’t holding one of hers. “Don’t worry about the rest of March. There’s not much of the month left anyway. Talk to me again when April rolls around.”
She started to protest.
Noah squeezed her hand, and the reminder that he was holding on to her swept away her doubts in a burst of pleasure. “So it’s official – you’re moving in tomorrow.”
Hearing him say it out loud obliterated a weight that’d been dragging her down. Slowly, she breathed a sigh. Knowing she’d have a decent roof over her head was like emotional morphine.
“I’ll start packing tomorrow morning.” She didn’t work at Elite East the next day, just Hot Ink, starting that afternoon. The free morning would allow her enough time to get her things together. “Thanks again.”
She met his eyes, studying the odd mix of desire and kindness that shone there. There was definite chemistry between them, and it rendered the idea of her staying with him for a while appealing in a way that made her entire body tingle. It wasn’t that she didn’t see the hunger in his eyes; it was just that he was so nice.
Schubert proved it. The cat was ugly, and apparently moody. Noah had brought him to Pittsburgh anyway when he could’ve easily left him behind. He was the first guy Zoe had ever met whose inner attractiveness seemed to match his seriously stunning exterior. The kind of guy she could’ve gone a lifetime without ever meeting. As that thought dawned on her, she experienced a pang of sadness – regret for what she would’ve missed if he hadn’t walked into Hot Ink five minutes before the end of her shift.
Rocking up onto her toes, she pressed her lips to his.
The same magic that had sizzled through her the first – and second – time they’d kissed filled her again, heating her from the inside out as he responded with perfect pressure, slipping his free hand behind her head and letting his fingers intertwine with her hair, like he’d been waiting for this.
They weren’t on a streetside this time; though the apartment’s windows were curtainless, the blinds were tightly shut, granting them total privacy. She pressed her body to the front of his, reveling in the feel of muscle and heat against her hips, belly and breasts, exactly the degree of firmness she’d imagined.
Also firm was the hard rod of his cock, already stiff, an unmistakable presence between their bodies. The feel of it sent a thrill through her – one that made everything inside her draw up tight as heat flared between her thighs. She wasn’t surprised; Noah was the type of man who inspired fantasies simply by walking into a room. He had that look, that presence, and she’d noticed it immediately, as nearly any woman would have, but since then he’d shown her other, even more attractive aspects of himself.
Not that she didn’t appreciate his physical attributes. God, did she. He felt good against her, and her scalp prickled beneath his palm as he cradled her skull, slipping his tongue into her mouth and kissing her more deeply than he had on the streetside.
She kissed him back, letting her tongue tangle with his. Her heart beat so hard that she could feel her pulse radiating throughout her body, and each beat seemed to push them a little closer. Already, they were so close that even the smallest of movements – her every breath – created friction between their bodies, making her hyper-aware of his erection between them. It seemed to swell further as the tide of lust rose high inside her, and her pussy dampened as she imagined slipping her hands beneath his t-shirt and jeans, feeling him skin-to-skin.
He flexed his hips, reinforcing her fantasy as his shaft rocked a little higher up her belly, sending ripples of anticipatory pleasure through her core. Longingly, she thought of the large bed in the first bedroom.
Maybe he’d read her mind. Raising his mouth from hers but maintaining his hold on her hair, he broke off their kiss.
Before she could say a word, he ran the hand that had been resting on her waist up the side of her body, sending her breath rushing past her lips as he caressed one of her breasts.
She was fully dressed, but it felt amazing. Beneath the cover of her jacket, shirt and bra, both her nipples went hard. Why hadn’t she at least taken her jacket off? She was too hot for it, both temperature-wise and figuratively. If being touched by him felt this good with so much on, she could only imagine what it would be like with nothing between them.
As a fresh rush of desire filled her, she eyed the arms that held her, letting her gaze travel slow and admiringly over the swirls of ink, the bulges of muscle. Today was the first time she’d seen so much of his arms – the first time she’d seen him in as little as a t-shirt. This was still so new – they were so new together. That in and of itself was exhilarating, but as he removed his hand from her breast and wrapped her in what could only be described as an embrace, she couldn’t see growing tired of him, even if it turned out he was a slob, or a slacker when it came to dishes.
As she breathed in his scent and basked in his body heat, it was hard to imagine that the days she’d spend living under the same roof as him would be anything less than thrilling.
Besides, she really was a shower-hog – or so Paul had always claimed, anyway – so she could overlook a few possible faults in her new roommate. After all, he had plenty of good attributes.
His hold on her tightened, and she felt the muscles in his body shift as he looked away, toward the bedroom. They were mere feet from it – from the bed – and she could feel the temptation pulling at him just like it pulled at her.
Neither one of them resisted. The apartment was so empty; no obstacles stood in their way. One minute they were in the hall and the next they were sinking down onto the mattress, still half holding each other, lips slipping together again.
When the kiss ended, she finally unzipped her jacket, tossing it aside, tired of the heavy layer between them. After that, she did what she’d been longing to do – slipped her hands beneath his t-shirt, letting her fingers slide against ridged muscle and her palms rest on hot skin.
He pulled the shirt over his head, revealing everything.
He was just as heavily tattooed as she’d imagined. More so, even. Ink swirled all over his chest, forming images and words that flowed together perfectly. The ink below his collarbones stood out most boldly, black script that spelled out here today gone tomorrow. She traced the words just for the pleasure of touching him there.
Beneath the script, his torso was one huge, rippling canvas for a single tattoo. A phoenix. The bird soared across his chest, rising from ashes, wings spread, their tips extending across his shoulders. It was beautiful, the design brilliant despite the fact that it had been done without color, all in black and grey. Somehow, that made the bold imagery even more striking.
His body tensed beneath her touch, muscles going taut. He was in great shape – all lean muscle, inked all over. He could’ve easily been a model on one of Hot Ink’s front window posters. But which tattoo had Jed done for him? Not the phoenix, obviously – that was clearly healed, and had to have taken much more than a single session to complete. One of the smaller pieces on his arms, then.
“Which one of these tattoos is new?” she asked, looking for the telltale signs of healing ink among the other designs that must’ve taken him years to accumulate.
Noah touched his forearm, guiding her gaze to where a lion swirled among the other designs in his sleeve, stylized in black ink and perfectly integrated. When she looked closely, she could see that the design was peeling a little, shedding a carbon-copy of the image that remained in his skin, the new ink a stark ebony.
&n
bsp; “Nice,” she said, because it was. Not that she’d ever expect anything less from Jed. “Is that supposed to be Schubert?”
Noah’s lips quirked. “That’s how Schubert sees himself, I bet.”
She traced her way over his shoulder and down his arm, stopping at the edge of the new tattoo, not wanting to irritate his healing skin.
He took one of her hands and pushed up the long sleeve of her shirt, exposing the floral design that flowed down the edge of her forearm, to her wrist. Abby had done it for her several years ago – that was how Zoe had discovered Hot Ink. When she’d gone in for her tattoo, they’d had a sign up advertising for a receptionist. She’d been hired within the week.
“I like this,” Noah said, tracing the colorful blossoms with a light touch that made her skin pebble all over. “Noticed it as soon as I saw you behind the counter at Hot Ink. It’s pretty, like you.”
Heat rushed into her cheeks and she knew she was probably blushing the same shade of soft pink that shaded the center of half the tattooed flowers’ petals. “Thanks. The pink flowers are lilies of the valley – they were my mom’s favorite flower. The blue hydrangea blossoms are for my dad. He claimed not to have a favorite flower, but I remembered these being in a bouquet he gave my mom once and I thought they were especially pretty.”
The hydrangea blossoms were spread out, scattered as if by wind instead of contained in the clusters they naturally grew in. That way they intermixed with the lilies, blending in a graceful swirl of pinks and blues.
“Your mom’s not around anymore?” Noah rubbed one of the tiny pink blossoms, causing extra heat to bloom on the surface of her skin.
“No. She passed away a few years ago. She and my dad were very close, even up until the end of her illness – that’s why I wanted to get this tattoo. Not just to remember her, but to remember them together. My dad is still alive.”
