"Ew, just stop," I blurted out as I grabbed my purse off the dining table. "I don't want to hear it."
Andy just laughed as he followed me down the stairs and out of my apartment. Like I said, he was annoying.
I climbed into the back seat of his yellow Evo, and greeted Lydia warmly. She looked beautiful as usual with her long dark wavy, red hair and aqua-blue eyes. She was dressed in a knee-length green sundress and strappy heels. Andy leaned over and kissed her cheek before driving away. Lydia gave him a warm smile as he took her hand. They loved each other so much. I could see it every time they looked at each other, even after two years together and only nine months of marriage. I couldn't wrap my head around it. I'd only felt that way about another person once, and it had blown up in my face because the feeling hadn't been mutual. How did anyone manage to find someone who felt the same way about them? I'd probably never know.
We made it to the restaurant without a moment to spare. It was Mom's favorite restaurant, and the place was quirky and fun, just like Mom, with round tables and booths, and lots of bright colors. Along one wall, was a line of three large garage doors made of windows that were wide open letting in the cool morning breeze. We found Mom and Dad already seated and waiting for us.
I was the spitting image of my mother. We had the same blue eyes, long dark hair, and body shape. When I lived at home I stole her clothes all the time. Mom was a clothes horse and had great taste. Some days I wished I still had access to her closet. She looked fabulous this morning in khaki linen pants and a loose black-and-white floral halter top.
"There they are," Mom announced as she stood when we approached the table. "How are all my beautiful babies this morning?" She smiled widely at all three of us, then proceeded to give each of us a big hug and a kiss on our cheeks; Lydia included. Mom considered Lydia her third child now and made sure she knew that fact as often as possible. Lydia's mother had passed away a few years before Andy met her, and Mom had pretty much adopted Lydia at this point. Who was I kidding? We all had adopted her. She was a Purcell now.
"Good morning, kids." Dad rose and greeted us with a wide grin. He was dressed down for once in jeans and a red polo shirt. Dad's hugs were a little more subdued, but no less sincere.
"Happy birthday, Mom. You look stunning today." Andy laid it on thick with a huge grin that was identical to Moms. I looked just like Mom, but Andy acted just like her. Both were annoyingly happy sometimes with a witty sarcastic comment for almost anything. Andy leaned more toward annoying, but I think that was because he was a man.
"You're such a suck up," Mom said as she shook her head and patted Andy's cheek with a smirk.
"I have to, Mom." He winked at her. "I've got Jenny and Lydia to compete with for your affections now."
"Don't worry, baby," Mom reassured him with a gleam in her eyes. "You're still my favorite son."
"Yet still her only son," I quipped with an eye roll.
"And he was so perfect we didn't need another one," Mom said with another pat on his cheek.
Andy gave me a smug expression. I wished I could flip him off.
"Alright," Dad said in amusement. "You've fed his ego enough. We all know who the perfect one really is here. Right, princess? You were so perfect that we didn't even bother having any more kids at all." He slung an arm around my shoulders and kissed my temple.
"Thanks, Dad," I mumbled sheepishly, trying not to wince as he bumped against my fresh tattoo. Perfect was hardly an accurate description of me, especially after last night. Sadness fell over me at my own weakness. I didn't feel worthy of my father's praise. That was when I noticed Mom eying me closely with a concerned expression as we all took our seats at the table. Shit, I had to get it together here or Mom would end up grilling me.
"Hey, Lydia," I said as a distraction. "Did you tell Mom about that promotion at the restaurant you might get?" Lydia was a sous chef at The Glass House, a local well-known restaurant. She told me the other day that she was hoping to snag the head-chef position since the current head-chef was taking a job somewhere else.
"I'm hoping to find out next week if I got it," Lydia said excitedly.
"I'm sure that she'll get it," Andy added as he smiled adoringly at his wife. "She's the best chef I know."
"She's the only chef you know," I told him with a shake of my head and a smile.
"She's still the best." His voice turned warm and affectionate as he kissed her cheek. I could see longing and love in my brother's eyes. I felt a pang of loneliness hit me as Lydia's face lit up in happiness and she returned his loving gaze.
Suddenly, an image of Ford's face, with that wide grin that crinkled the skin around his gorgeous indigo eyes, popped into my head out of nowhere. That was quickly followed by a blast of shame and regret yet again. Maybe I shouldn't have left him like I did. Maybe I should have stayed. I felt something for him last night, a deep yearning for more, for a connection, but I pushed that ridiculous thought away. What was the point? I'd never see him again anyway, and I highly doubted I meant anything more to him than a sexual conquest. It served me right for all the times I'd used men for that myself. I don't know why I ever thought things could change for me. My life was what it was, and I needed to learn to live with it, even though it meant I'd probably never truly be happy. I suddenly just wanted to go home and be alone.
I ended up forcing a smile on my face and powering through brunch with my family, even when I won the prize for the best gift for Mom's birthday again. When Andy finally dropped me off at home a few hours later, I was exhausted from acting like I was fine for so long. I trudged up to my room, and threw on my T-shirt and sweatpants again. I crawled into my bed for a nap, and tried unsuccessfully to ignore the fact that I cried myself to sleep.
**********
It was a long, long week. I couldn't seem to stop thinking about Ford and his deep rumbling voice. It distracted me at work and made me feel like an idiot. I dreamed about him every night, felt his hands all over me and his cock inside me so vividly that I ended up using my vibrator so much that I killed the batteries twice. Every time I drove to work I'd pass Apex Ink and start daydreaming about his beautiful tattoo-covered body and the feel of his full lips on mine. I had to keep myself from stopping at the tattoo shop to see if he was there on my way home every night. I'd never had this happen before, and it was pathetic. It was just sex. Why was this guy still in my head?
By the time I got home from a long day at work on Friday evening, I was a hot horny mess and my determination to stop making random hookups was fading fast. So when Tori called to make sure we were still going out tonight, I agreed immediately, trying to ignore the little voice of reason in my head that said it was a bad idea.
Tori showed up at my place around nine while I was still getting ready. Tonight she was wearing black. It was a short club dress with a plunging neck line and strategically placed slits running down the sides baring her tanned skin. I needed to bring my A-game tonight to compete with that. I pulled a royal blue strapless dress that was almost too short that made my eyes pop and showed off my new ink. My tattoo was still peeling as it healed, but the low light in the club would help hide that. I wore my hair up too, because damn it, my tattoo was beautiful, and I should be proud to show it off no matter what happened with Ford.
I walked out carrying my silver stiletto sandals into the living room after dressing, and found Tori sprawled on my couch typing away on her phone. She didn't even look up as I paused next to her to pull my heels on.
"Where do you want to go tonight?" I asked her as I grabbed my wristlet out of my purse.
"How about The Indigo Room?" she suggested as she finally looked up from her phone. "We haven't been there in a while, and the D.J. is always killer."
"Sounds good to me," I answered, trying to pretend that I wasn't thinking about Ford's killer blue eyes when she mentioned the word "indigo".
I headed toward my small kitchen to get some water and Tori stood to follow me. She suddenly gasped loud
ly.
"O.M.G, girl," she blurted out. "You got a tattoo."
"Do you like it?" I asked with a wide smile.
"That is so fucking hot," she answered with a grin. "The guys will be panting like animals over it." That wasn't exactly the answer I was looking for. I didn't get it to help me hook up.
"It's a phoenix," I explained. "It's a symbol of change and rebirth."
"Cool," she replied distractedly as she started typing away on her phone again.
I suddenly thought about what Ford said about a tattoo meaning as much or as little as you wanted it to. I guess Tori was one of the ones who didn't put too much thought into them. I tried to ignore my disappointment. Tori was my best friend, and I loved her, even if she didn't get the symbolism behind my new ink.
"Where did you get it done?" she asked.
"Apex Ink," I answered sheepishly.
"I've heard of that place." She looked up at me and smiled wickedly. "A friend of mine went there and told me the owner is a real bad-boy hottie. Did you see him?"
"Yeah." I felt my face heat and couldn't meet her eyes. I could feel her staring at me for a long moment.
"Holy shit," she blurted out excitedly with gleaming pale blue eyes. "You fucked him, didn't you?"
My shame burst to life inside me as I nodded, wishing she couldn't read me so well. There was no point denying it with Tori, at least she wouldn't think less of me like I already did.
"Was it good?" Tori asked enthusiastically. "Please tell me he was hung like a horse." She had an even bigger weakness for hot tattooed men than I did.
For the first time ever, I didn't want to talk about my sex life with Tori. I wanted to keep what happened with Ford to myself, partly due to my shame, but I think another part of me felt kind of possessive over what he and I shared last night. There was a chemistry between us that I'd never experienced before, a connection that scared me even though it was merely physical. I let myself go with Ford in a way I hadn't in a really long time, begging shamelessly and wantonly for him. It was such a relief to let everything go, to just be myself and not feel the weight of expectations or judgment. I wondered if maybe that was the reason I couldn't get him out of mind. It was also part of the reason I left the next morning. Trusting someone like that would only lead to heartbreak. I wasn't going to let a man do that to me again.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" I replied suggestively as I grabbed my keys off the kitchen table, hoping she'd let it go. She laughed as her phone chimed with another text notification. I sighed with relief as she started typing again and quickly forgot our conversation. She followed me out to our waiting cab, and started telling me all about the hot tattooed guy she hooked up with last weekend. She didn't mention my tattoo or Ford again.
The Indigo Room was already packed when we got there. We grabbed a couple of quick shots and headed out onto the crowded dance floor. It felt good to let out some of the tension I'd been carrying around all week as I gave myself over the music and started dancing. Tori and I immediately drew in some male attention.
A sexy dark-haired guy with ice-blue eyes caught my gaze and sidled up closer to dance in front of me. His eyes scanned appreciatively down my body as we danced, and I gave him my best seductive smile. He looked good enough to eat, with sensual lips and arched brows that gave him a rakish appearance. He grinned leeringly at me in a playful way, and I knew I'd hooked him. I ran my fingertips up his toned chest over his tight T-shirt and liked what I felt. He grabbed my hip and moved in closer. I placed my palms on his pecs. They were nice, but Ford's pecs were better. Shit, why was I thinking about him again, and now of all times?
I moved my hand to his shoulders and pressed my breasts against him. He started grinding against me, and I suddenly realized that I was comparing him to Ford again. What the fuck? I kept dancing with the guy, hoping these thoughts would just go away.
He leaned in close to my ear to speak. "I love your tits," he growled out in a sexy tone that I should have found hot, but did nothing for me. What the hell was wrong with me? Everything he did just seemed lacking. Had Ford actually ruined me for other men? Was that even possible? Maybe I just needed more alcohol.
"Buy me a drink?" I suggested in his ear.
"You got it, baby," he answered cockily. I tried to ignore my sudden flare of irritation with him. He was hot and willing, that should be all that mattered.
He led me to the bar and ordered four shots for us. I downed my first shot as I watched him toss back his. He wasn't looking at my face at all. I know I had dressed to show off my cleavage, but he didn't even look at me at all. Why did that suddenly matter to me tonight? I'd never cared before. At least Ford talked to me, and seemed interested in me and not just my body. Damn it. There I was thinking about Ford again. It was getting ridiculous. I grabbed my second shot and gulped it down. The next thing I knew the guy was all over me, his hands on my ass as he was kissing me. His lips were clumsy and demanding in a way that did nothing for me and just didn't feel right. I was instantly and completely unaroused. This wasn't working. I needed to get away from this guy and clear my head. Maybe I just needed to find a different guy.
I pushed him away gently. His jaw clenched, and I saw anger flash across his eyes. He was even more unattractive now. "I don't think this is going to work out," I told him and didn't bother to smile or apologize for my dismissal. I had no intention of going any further with him, and I think he knew that. I didn't want a confrontation, so I made an excuse about needing to use the restroom and walked away.
I caught sight of Tori as I headed toward the ladies' room. She was all over some good-looking blond with her hands on his ass as they gyrated together on the dance floor. She met my eyes and nodded with a wink. I gave her a smile and a thumbs up. If I took a cab home now, she wouldn't even notice.
I was fortunate that the line for the restroom was short. I took care of business quickly, anxious to get out of here. Maybe my tattoo did what I wanted it to. Maybe the shame of sleeping with Ford served a purpose after all, and I could change and become someone else. I sneaked a peek at it in the mirror after I washed my hands. I nodded and smiled, feeling better already. When I walked out into the now empty hallway, I was so lost in my own head, that I didn't realize someone was behind me until I was violently shoved face-first into the wall.
"No one fucking turns me down," a growling male voice snarled in my ear as I fought to breathe. "Especially a whore like you."
I felt hot breath on my neck and terror spiked inside me. It was the guy I just rejected, pinning me to the wall with his body and trapping me. I could feel his erection grinding against my ass. His free hand started yanking my dress up, and there was no one in sight to save me. I closed my eyes and prayed for a miracle that I knew probably wouldn't come.
Chapter 4
Ford
I was walking down the hall toward my office Friday evening when I heard a woman giggling flirtatiously off to my left. I sighed in exasperation, knowing what I'd probably see when I glanced into the room where A.J., one of my tattoo artists, was working. I saw an attractive young brunette woman lying on A.J.'s tattoo table while he was applying a stencil to her ankle. He was leaning over her leg with a salacious smile on his face as he stared at her tits. A.J. was a consummate flirt. The man used his good looks and tattoos as a weapon against anything with breasts.
His reddish-brown hair was perfectly styled into his usual slicked back pompadour, with his full and overly groomed hipster mustache and beard. His white V-neck T-shirt showed off his chest and full sleeve tattoos. I caught his eye and he abruptly straightened as the smile fell from his face. I glared at him, but held my tongue since he was with a client. I shook my head at him, then continued to my office and closed the door. I needed to have another talk with him about his constant flirting. It was only a matter of time before he pissed a client off, or worse. I was pretty sure he'd probably slept with a few. That thought was quickly followed by a side order of guilt. Who was I to talk? I did th
e same damn thing last weekend.
I slumped down on the black leather couch next to my desk and stared off into space, feeling like a hypocrite for sleeping with Jenny. However, I couldn't bring myself to regret it. It was the most incredible sex I ever had, and it didn't even involve rope. My God, what would it be like if Jenny was open to that kind of thing? I sighed again. I'd never find out.
When I woke up Sunday alone in my bed, I felt hurt and disappointed, feelings that were completely alien to me where sex was involved. She just took off, like what happened between us meant nothing. Was I the only one who felt the connection between us? Even now, almost a week later, I couldn't get Jenny out of my head. I closed my eyes and pictured those breathtaking sapphire eyes. I could still feel her silken hair as I ran my fingers through it, and that unbelievable and indescribable moment as I sank into her tight little body.
It was more than just the physical though. From her biting sarcastic humor, and those moments of vulnerability I saw in her eyes, to her wild inhibition in bed, I felt this deep visceral reaction to her that surprised me. I was drawn to her against my will, and when she touched my arm and started kissing my jaw, I couldn't resist her. Now I had nothing left but vivid sex dreams about her every night, and the unsatisfying relief of my hand in the shower every morning.
I considered contacting one of the few women I played with off and on. Maybe indulging in some kinky rope bondage would distract me and get Jenny out of my head. I stopped hooking up with the others when I met Sarina, but I was sure a few of them would be more than willing to get together again. I pulled my phone out and scrolled through my contacts, thinking one of them might even meet me tonight. I stared at my phone, trying to decide who to call, when I realized I didn't really want that anymore. It all felt so meaningless and empty now. I never once felt anything like I did with Jenny with any of them. It was only a physical release. Jenny had rocked my world and changed everything, then just fucking disappeared. I put my phone back in my pocket with a growl of annoyance. I was turning onto a sentimental fool.
An Act of Restraint: Order & Chaos Book 1 Page 7
