by Vi Keeland
Mina had cooked dinner for Jess before leaving the apartment, and Karen had volunteered to stay there with Jess for the evening. So there was no reason why Mina shouldn’t relax and enjoy her time with Eric – or at least, there wouldn’t have been if she’d already made her confession. But she hadn’t, which meant that Eric still didn’t know that she was a fourteen year old girl’s sole legal guardian. He didn’t even know what she did for a living. He didn’t know her.
But they’d kissed. Mina’s mind kept reminding her of that, as if it meant anything. A kiss didn’t mean much more than a handshake to most women her age nowadays, did it? Well, maybe a little more, but few people gave it the significance that her heart was trying to assign to it. She tried not to think of the feel of Eric’s lips against hers as she settled into her seat at the cozy restaurant table. “This place seems nice.” Eric had picked her up at her apartment at seven as he’d promised and taken her to a Mexican restaurant known for their specialty fajitas. She loved Mexican food, but couldn’t seem to muster up much of an appetite as the hostess handed her a menu.
“It’s a favorite of mine,” he said as he took a seat. “The fajitas really are amazing.”
She managed a smile as a waiter hurried by their table, the platter he carried sizzling and exuding a surprisingly tempting aroma. “Mexican food is actually my favorite, too.”
“Yeah.” He smiled ruefully. “Karen called to let me know that.”
Mina sighed. “Maybe I should be surprised, but I’m not.”
He laughed. “Neither am I. I got the feeling that she was trying to push us together the other night at Ruby’s.”
“You have no idea,” Mina said, thinking back to the heated conversation she and Karen had shared that afternoon in the restaurant’s bathroom. “But anyway, I appreciate how nice you were to Jess. I know she can be chatty.”
He shrugged, revealing a hint of a smile. “She’s quiet as a mouse compared to your friend Karen. Besides, I didn’t mind. She seems like a great kid.” His smile seemed to waver for half a second, the lapse so brief that Mina wondered whether she might have imagined it. “And very talented, too.”
Mina grinned, remembering their night at Ruby’s, when Eric had been caught in the crossfire of Karen and Jess’s characteristically enthusiastic conversations. “Yeah, now that you mention it, I guess I tend to surround myself with loud people.” Maybe that was another reason she was so attracted to Eric. He was calm and relatively quiet, but not in a brooding way – more in a laid-back fashion. Her cheeks warmed as she remembered his complacency at Karen’s studio, where he’d agreed to her suggestions without batting an eyelash – including her request that he pose half-naked with Mina. Was he always so agreeable, or had he wanted to wrap his arms around her with nothing but a sinfully thin layer of silk between their bodies?
They shared an appetizer, discussing the reason why they’d met in the first place – tattoos – between bites. By the time their fajitas were delivered hot and sizzling, she knew she’d only be able to enjoy the meal if she got her ultra-condensed life summary out into the open. Then they could enjoy dinner together and Eric would have a little time to contemplate it. It wasn’t an easy thing to bring up. She’d just have to plunge right in. “I should probably tell you; Karen is keeping Jess company for me right now. Jess doesn’t have parents – just me. I’m her legal guardian.”
Eric set his water glass down on the table and Mina couldn’t help but notice the moisture that gleamed on his tempting lips. “Wow. I wouldn’t have guessed.”
Mina nodded. “Yeah. We’ve been living that way for three years now. We’re both used to it – I just thought it was something you should know if, you know…”
He nodded. “I understand.”
His tone was easy and decidedly neutral; impossible to really interpret. She tried not to read too much into it. The moment of truth would come when dinner ended. For now, she’d just try to enjoy the meal as best she could.
She wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or not when he suggested that they order dessert. On one hand, she was enjoying being with him, even when they were simply eating, making little conversation. On the other hand, if he was going to tell her he wasn’t interested in seeing her again, she’d rather their date end sooner. Just like peeling off a Band-Aid, it would hurt less the faster it was done. Wouldn’t it? She eyed him across the table as he gave the waiter their order, and couldn’t deny the wave of longing that swept over her. Instead of tasting the tea she’d just sipped, she tasted him. His lips had been soft, and his hands hot on her skin…
“The flan here is great too,” he said, causing her to divert her gaze from his arms to his face. He was wearing one of those sinfully simple cotton shirts again, which allowed her make out the curves of his biceps underneath. Now that she knew exactly what lay beneath, it was harder than ever not to think about it. “Are you okay?”
She snapped out of her muscle-dazed trance, realizing with embarrassment that she’d been staring at his arms again. She must have looked like she’d been zoning out. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was just thinking about work. Sorry.” It was sort of true. She’d never really gotten over the way Ashley had assaulted her and Amy that afternoon and the incident had been a prominent fixture in the back of her mind ever since.
“You said you work at a bank, right?”
She nodded. She’d mentioned it in passing but had steamrolled over the topic in her haste to confess her family situation. “I’m a teller.”
“Do you like your job?”
She shrugged. “I did, but I have a new co-worker who’s been making work miserable for all the tellers lately and I’m hoping to be promoted to a position as a junior loan officer.” She smiled at the thought of her own private cubicle. “I guess you could say that I like working in finance though.”
“Oh yeah?”
She nodded. “Working with money is easy. If you run into a problem, there’s always a way to solve it. All the counting and calculations…it must sound really boring, but there’s something satisfying about knowing there’s always a method that can be used to reach a solution.” Unlike real life, banking was organized and formulaic. For the past three years she’d been striving to achieve that same balance and sense of comfort at home, despite how difficult it was to truly control one’s life.
“I can imagine that,” he said. “When I’m tattooing I sort of get into this zone where I’m not really thinking about anything else. When I’m in that state, I know the piece is going to turn out great.”
She nodded. Applying permanent artwork to someone’s body wasn’t exactly the same thing as cashing someone’s check, but she appreciated him trying to bridge the gap between their vastly different jobs. “That sounds great too. Too bad I don’t have a lick of artistic talent or I might just consider trying my hand at something more creative.”
He smiled. “You mean Jess is the only one who inherited the art gene?”
“She must have gotten it from her father. Our mother can’t draw her way out of a paper bag.”
He didn’t say anything, but his eyebrow arched, unintentionally reflecting the question he was probably too considerate to ask.
“I mean, we haven’t seen her lately,” Mina clarified. “We’re estranged. She’s spent the past few years in and out of jail, which is why I was able to get custody of Jess. Truthfully, I don’t even know where she’s living.”
“Sorry.” Eric took a sip of his water. “I didn’t mean to dredge that up.”
“It’s not a big deal. Her absence is no loss, to be honest. The day I was granted custody of Jess was the happiest day of my life.”
The flan came and disappeared quickly – Eric hadn’t been exaggerating, it was amazing – but when it was gone, her stomach felt somehow empty, as if the bottom had dropped right out of it. She rose from her chair reluctantly after Eric paid the bill and followed him out into the night, leaving the restaurant’s spicy scents and lively music behind.
&n
bsp; He opened the door for her and she drifted through, feeling as if her stomach were full of butterflies instead of fajitas and flan. His touch was feather-light, so that at first it barely registered when he pressed his fingertips to the small of her back. Despite his delicacy, a bolt of awareness shot through her, leaving her feeling as if she’d been struck by lightning. Her entire body tingling, she allowed him to walk by her side, his arm brushing her shoulder as he staked a quiet claim on her.
He maintained contact as they walked the short distance to the parking garage where they’d left his car, and when they stepped into the building and headed toward the elevator, her stomach flip-flopped and her nerves buzzed. When the elevator opened, it was empty. They stepped inside, alone together. The light-headedness that struck Mina had nothing to do with the sudden movement and everything to do with the kiss Eric pressed against her lips.
The lingering fajita spices leant a pleasant heat to his taste, which she experienced in full when he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, searching for hers. She gave it to him, her inhibitions melting for at least a moment. She was still avoiding underwires for the sake of her tattoo, and her nipples pricked against the thin shelf bra that was built into the cami she wore beneath her shirt. Eric placed his hands on her hips, pulling her against him. She gave in to the seductive press of his firm body, relaxing against him as he leaned against the elevator wall. He teased her tongue with his, cueing her body to respond. She gripped handfuls of his jacket and slid her tongue deep into his mouth. It was almost impossible to think of how just moments ago, she’d been worrying over whether he’d want anything to do with her anymore. She gripped the fabric tighter, letting her fingernails bite into his sides as she tasted him, intensely aware of the hardness that—
Ding. The elevator came to a halt that seemed far too sudden, the doors rumbling ominously as she and Eric were exposed to…
No one. When she pulled her mouth from his and looked over her shoulder, there was no one waiting on the fourth level. She sighed, as much from desire as relief.
Eric took her by the hand as they left the elevator and she let him guide her, drifting by his side toward the car, still tasting him on her tongue. Her nerves were buzzing, her senses on red-alert. Worries were still whirling somewhere in the back of her mind, but when his lips touched hers, it was impossible to focus on anything but him. On how badly she wanted him, even though she knew deep down that it wouldn’t work…would it? She sighed. His kisses had challenged what she’d thought she’d known – that he wouldn’t be interested in her after learning about her unusual family situation.
“Is something wrong?” He gave her hand an almost imperceptible squeeze as they stopped at the car.
She looked up slowly, meeting the gorgeous blue eyes that had been haunting her ever since she’d first met him during her consultation at Hot Ink. “No.” At least, it wasn’t when he looked at her that way; like he wanted her as badly as she wanted him, and – even more importantly – like he actually cared.
“Good.” He unlocked the car and opened the passenger-side door for her, his fingertips brushing the small of her back as she ducked inside.
“Where would you like to go now?” he asked once he’d joined her, sliding the key into the ignition as he settled into the driver’s seat.
Where to now? She’d assumed that he’d take her home after dinner. Unless he thought…
“I’d planned to take you to a movie, if that’s something you’d like.”
A movie. Mina’s heart slowed just a little as his words washed over her. She glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard, noting that it was already nine o’clock.
“If you’d rather not, that’s all right,” he said. “I know you have work in the morning.”
She nodded slowly, trying to imagine what it would be like to sit close beside him in the dark for an hour or two. Would she be able to pay any attention to the movie at all? Would she actually be able to keep her hands off of him for that long, or would the slightest touch in the dark of the theater turn into something like what they’d just done in the elevator? She didn’t normally think of herself as someone who’d steal deep-reaching kisses in elevators or movie theaters like a sex-starved teenager, but the temptation to do just that was undeniable. She just couldn’t deny her attraction to him, which was stronger – surprisingly, alarmingly stronger – than anything she’d ever felt toward anyone else.
“Would you rather I took you home?”
He was polite, but the low note of angst in his voice didn’t escape her notice. She turned her attention away from the digital clock, looking to him instead. It was semi-dark inside the car, but what light had managed to make it in was reflected in his eyes, rendering them almost luminous. “No.” It might not have been exactly what she’d intended to say, but it was the truth.
Before she knew it his lips were brushing hers, soft and hot, still tasting of spices. Had she leaned forward or had he? Every inch of her skin tingled as he buried a hand in her hair and pulled her close, his teeth denting her lip as his tongue glided over hers, deep into her mouth. By the time his fingertips made contact with the soft skin above the low waistband of her jeans, it was as if she’d been waiting for a million years for him to touch her there. He kept his hand in her hair as he traced the curve of her hipbone with the other, eliciting a second, even-stronger wave of longing. She couldn’t help trembling when his fingertips brushed her belly.
She was sure he knew exactly what he was doing. His touch was just light enough to make her crave more. She remembered the way he’d grasped her hand as they’d left the elevator and the way he’d held her in the studio. Why couldn’t his touch be that solid, that possessive, now? He was teasing her, holding back and rousing her impatience. He had a light, precise touch when he chose to use it – he had to, for his line of work.
She pushed her tongue deeper into his mouth, letting her rapidly increasing desire take over, demanding more. Her teeth dented his soft lower lip and he finally flattened his hand against her belly in response, touching her in earnest. His palm was hot and his fingertips were just touching the lower curve of her breast. It ached – she ached – for more. Arching her back, she pressed herself against him, filling his palm. It was perfectly sized to accommodate her curves. He cradled the swell of her breast, sending a wave of bone-deep satisfaction through her.
It was short lived. After the initial sense of gratification faded, the ache in her breast returned with a vengeance, wanting more of his touch. She kissed him harder, inviting him to abandon gentleness. He tightened his hold, exerting a gentle pressure that caused her core to tighten and the skin between her thighs to tingle. He found her nipple with his fingertips and explored its hardness. She could just imagine his lips moving over her chest, soft and hot, eventually finding the stiff peak of her breast. He massaged it, fueling her sudden fantasy. Her moan was lost in the low hum of a working motor and rolling tires, and just like that, she remembered that they were in a parking garage, making out like a couple of teenagers as another car rolled past.
Eric slowly withdrew his hand from beneath her top, giving her breast one last regretful caress. He waited a few moments longer to break the kiss, and she didn’t complain. A part of her didn’t want to ever stop kissing him. Another part of her was suddenly hyper-aware that they were in the front seats of his car in a public parking garage, divided only by the console that was digging into her hip. She finally opened her eyes and met his, facing reality.
His eyes were as blue as ever, his gaze hazy. His lips, which were normally naturally full, seemed a little more so – inflamed from hard kissing. Hers felt the same way – tingly and slightly swollen. God, she wanted him. And she had a feeling that if they’d been in a place that was the least bit accommodating, she’d already have him.
But they weren’t. She hadn’t imagined that a first date – well, if she didn’t count the coffee shop thing – would have ended like this; with her wishing that they were in be
d instead of in a car and that his hands were still on her body. That he wouldn’t stop until he’d touched every last little bit of her, and then some. That just wasn’t her. She didn’t usually give in to physical temptations, and in any case, she’d never found anybody as tempting as Eric. And the attraction seemed to be gloriously mutual, despite what she’d told him about herself. Either it wasn’t an issue for him, or…
Her stomach lurched unpleasantly, and for half a second she thought she might lose her fajitas. Maybe any future complications caused by her responsibilities weren’t an issue because he wasn’t thinking that far ahead. Maybe he thought she’d be up for a one night stand before they went their separate ways. She bit the inside of her lip, studying his eyes as she tried to ignore the crushing feeling that had settled over her. They were so gorgeous, hazy with the same desire that was flooding through her veins. Could he really be thinking she’d go for that?
Maybe so. After all, she certainly hadn’t resisted any of his advances. Maybe they hadn’t all even been his; maybe she’d been equally responsible. And then there were the photos – they’d been racy, evocative. God, they’d actually kissed. If he thought she’d do that for the sake of a photo, then why wouldn’t he expect her to be up for a meaningless tryst? After all, the physical chemistry between them was undeniable.
“Is everything okay?” His eyes cleared a bit, his gaze sharpening with apparent concern.
No, it wasn’t okay. She suddenly felt like she’d led him on, and now she either had to admit it and apologize or live up to the impression she’d apparently given. Did he expect her to go home with him now? Her nipples were still rock-hard, the one he’d touched tingling with the desire for more attention. Her body wanted more of him, but she didn’t do one night stands. She didn’t do meaningless. Her life had been far too full of emptiness up until a few short years ago, and she’d worked hard to obtain the sense of comfortable control she now had. If there was one thing she’d grown to hate, it was watching a woman treat her body like public property to be rented out to any man who promised her a few minutes of attention. She’d grown up seeing it happen time after time, and she had no desire to behave that way. It didn’t matter how good Eric made her feel, or how attracted she was to him. Remembering that he was waiting for an answer, she shrugged, unable to bring herself to say yes or no.
