by Ann Grech
Chloe felt so good in Timmy’s arms. Soft curves against his solid muscle. Vulnerability against his strength. Her flawless skin against his tattoos. He may be doing his best to push her away, but at that moment, he wanted to be everything she’d ever need.
Claire’s disapproving cough made reality slam back into both of them. Chloe and Timmy startled back from each other, Chloe’s sheepish smile directed at the others in the room dragged Timmy out of his pinpoint focus on her. He couldn’t forget that she was still so young, albeit an adult. For Christ’s sake, she’d been allowed to drink liquor for less than a month. He had to back off. He had to stop giving Chloe mixed messages. Timmy motioned to the sofa and let her sit down on the armchair as he walked out of the den and into the kitchen to help Bakos make the cups of tea. Timmy was reaching into the fridge for the milk that Chloe had with hers as Bakos dropped sugar cubes into both cups and Peterson entered the room. He was following right on Timmy’s heels and wasted no time scolding him. “She’s a little young for you, isn’t she?”
“We’re just friends,” Timmy muttered. “Barely even that. She’s Rake’s apprentice.” His voice sounded hollow even to Timmy, like he was trying to persuade himself of the truth of his words. And he was. The more he touched Chloe, the more he needed to have her, to claim her.
“See that it stays that way. Chloe’s too young to get involved with anyone, much less you,” Sheriff Peterson said as he walked away.
Timmy’s muttered, “Fuck you, asshole,” and Bakos’, “Fuck off, idiot,” were uttered at the same moment. Timmy instantly felt better about Van. At least they both thought Peterson was a dick!
Almost as if Bakos sensed Timmy needed to make a tactful exit without hurting Chloe’s feelings more, he gave Timmy the opening he needed as he placed the two cups and saucers on the coffee table. “Chloe, why don’t you walk Timmy to his bike? We’ll be out in a minute.” The suggestion worked, immediately breaking the tension between the two sisters. Timmy hated being the source of that tension. If he pursued Chloe, her relationship with Claire would suffer. Notch up another reason why I can’t be with her. It was obvious to Timmy how protective Chloe’s older sister was of her, and it was equally apparent that Claire’s protectiveness was unwelcome. The two girls were glaring at each other as if they wanted to scratch the other’s eyes out. That wasn’t how they should be acting toward each other especially given what they were going through. He did not want to come between them.
“Thanks, man,” Timmy muttered again as he slipped on his leather jacket before giving Mo a quick pet.
“You aren’t staying for a little longer? Help me with the ice cream?” Chloe asked hopefully.
“No, pretty girl, I can’t. I’ll see you at the studio tomorrow though. Yeah?” She nodded and followed Timmy out to his bike. As he straddled the beast, Chloe openly admired it, trailing her fingertips over the fender and gas tank toward Timmy. Jealously spiked hard and fast in him. That’s a fucking new one; jealous of an inanimate object experiencing her touch. Timmy gave himself a mental beat down. His ride was amazing. He’d picked his Heritage Softail because of its clean lines, sleek beauty and strength. He loved every inch of it, more so since he and Beau had restored it together.
When Chloe reached Timmy’s knee, she stepped into his personal space and ran her hand up his arm to the back of his neck. Combing her fingers through his messy hair, she looked into his eyes and leaned in for a kiss. There was nothing he wanted more than to feel those soft pink lips against his again, either set of them. But the look on her sister’s face came into his mind’s eye as he found himself leaning into her too. Shaking out of his lust-filled stupor, Timmy turned his head so her lips touched his stubbled cheek. His hands landed on her waist, holding her body away from his. Once he felt her pressed against him again, he’d be a goner.
“We can’t be together, Chloe.” Timmy sounded tortured even to himself. He was sure she could see the regret written all over his features.
“Why not?” she whispered.
“It doesn’t matter, the reason won’t change. See you at work tomorrow, okay.” Timmy gently pushed Chloe away from him, slammed on his brain bucket and started the bike, roaring out of the drive before she could tempt him again. She called to him on a level he didn’t understand and he didn’t know how much longer he would be able to resist her. His cock told him 0.235 seconds was too long to wait to have her under him, but thinking with that part of his anatomy was never a good thing.
Timmy usually liked to keep a clear head so he was in complete control, but tonight, he couldn’t do it. Chloe was under his skin, and jacking off before he saw her hadn’t worked. Instead, sitting at her house, he’d imagined her on her knees licking his length and sucking on his crown as she fondled his sac, using those perfect white teeth to nip him. He absolutely couldn’t kiss her. Her lips were doing mind blowing things in his fantasies without touching or tasting her again. The last thing he needed was to be reminded of what it felt like. There was no way he’d be able to stop himself once he started. Complete control be damned, a bottle of Johnny Walker called his name. He’d need it to get the hurt he’d seen in her eyes as he pulled away out of his memory bank.
* * * *
Chloe had just received a lesson in what it felt like to be rejected. Embarrassment, hurt and self-consciousness swept over her as she crossed her arms protectively over her chest. Sure, she’d been rejected before, but it was always for things that never really mattered to her. Heck, she was used to being picked last for sports teams in school and that never bothered her once.
Frustrated, Chloe marched inside and went straight to her bedroom, slamming the door after her. She needed some time alone to process what had happened tonight. Claire would, no doubt want to talk about their parents and what was happening with Timmy, but Chloe didn’t have it in her to rehash either. She fell onto her bed and curled up with a pillow. Thoughts of her momma and daddy as she was growing up filled her mind. Surely those memories weren’t lies. Timmy had told her to remember the good things about them, who they were to her. She picked up her brand new sketchpad and charcoal pencils and started drawing. It always made her feel better. It was her meditation. Her hand moved over the heavy stock art paper almost by its own volition, forming the outline of her parents’ faces, their heads touching at their temples, her momma’s hair falling softly down her shoulders tickling her daddy’s hand as he hugged her close. She drew her parents as she remembered them; kind, generous people who were as in love as the day they married. Hours later when the sun was coming up and she’d finished her two sketches, she sat back and assessed them with a critical eye. Not bad. The one of her parents wasn’t an exact replica of them, but it was how she saw them in her mind’s eye, their flaws and faults having faded away. The dark drawing on her second easel was an abstract; her expression of pain, anger, anguish, fear and the myriad of other emotions that had assaulted her senses in the last few days. She took photos of both sketches, uploading the images to her databank before heading for the shower.
“These are amazing,” Claire said from Chloe’s doorway as she returned dressed for the day. “Are they private? Can I show Cleo?”
“Sure.” She shrugged.
“Show me what?” Cleo yawned as she emerged from her room still wearing the same rumpled clothes as yesterday. Her hair was a mess, the creases from her pillow still on her face as she woke up. Zane followed close behind Cleo wearing only his jeans, his hair standing on end too. Chloe would love to get a closer look at the artwork all over his back and arms knowing that Timmy did it, but she didn’t have it in her at the moment. She felt as flat as road-kill.
At least Cleo and Zane had managed a few hours of sleep. Chloe and Claire were both up all night. Chloe had had trouble sleeping since the explosion, her mind remembering in vivid detail her daddy’s bloodied body falling to the ground and hearing his tortured cries as he took his last breaths; her momma’s terrified screams as bullets tore up their new home
. She was finding it easier to survive on the bare minimum of sleep than having to relive those nightmares over and over again.
Claire was a pacer and the creaks from the old floorboards were constant last night. It was strangely soothing knowing she wasn’t alone, even though she’d needed that separation from her sisters.
Zane’s goofy grin that he perpetually had around Cleo was even more adorable when he was half-asleep. Clearly nothing had gone down last night but Chloe was glad that Cleo had a friend like Zane. While Timmy also had that protective, caring streak, he was so quick to retreat that she was getting whiplash from the pulling and pushing he was doing.
“These,”—Claire motioned—“they’re so powerful. Chloe captured all the emotion, the mood, everything from last night in them.”
“Damn, they are amazing,” Zane murmured, rubbing his eyes. When Chloe looked across at Cleo, she saw the tears tracking down her sister’s face. Wrapping an arm around her, Chloe held her while she cried.
“I’m going to run a bath for Cleo. You girls finished with the bathroom?”
“Yeah, go for it, Zane. I need to leave for work now.” Chloe gave Cleo a squeeze and stepped away.
“I’m okay. Go.” Cleo waved Chloe away from her when she hesitated. “Kick ass at work.”
Chloe grinned and kissed her sisters on the cheek before dashing out the door.
“Hey Chloe.” Timmy gave her a stiff smile as she walked into the studio.
“Thanks for last night. I didn’t get a chance to tell you.”
“Sure, no problems. Sorry, I can’t talk. I’m in the middle of something,” he said, spinning away from her on his stool.
“Ah, yeah. Sure. I’ll get out of your hair.” Wow, that was…abrupt, even for Timmy.
Chloe checked the studio’s myriad of social media profiles, posted a few comments and photos of yesterday’s work and went back to focusing on the koi dragon back piece that she was designing for Rake’s client. She wanted to perfect the perspective on it. Depth was critical for a properly proportioned piece. So was capturing the movement of the waves at the point the koi dragon was rising from the river. Chloe’s passion was photorealism but she enjoyed drawing anything. When the client came in on her second day in the studio, Rake pulled her into a consult and set her a challenge: each of them would do a design and the client would pick which one he liked the best. There might have been a block of chocolate involved too; apparently, both of them suffered from the same ultimate weakness.
An hour later, Chloe checked how Timmy was going with his client’s tattoo in case he needed any more supplies or for her to clean-up his station. When he snapped at her again, she retreated to the drawing room to prepare the transfer for Rake’s latest tattoo so she didn’t slap him. Moody pain in my ass. Dakota joined her in the drawing room, standing close to her to keep their conversation private. “Did you see Timmy last night?”
“Yeah, why?”
“What happened?”
“The sheriff told us the cause of the explosion. Timmy came over in case it helped him remember anything to add to his statement. Why, what’s going on?”
“He said he saw Mo so I figured he saw you too. But he’s not normally so damn grumpy. I’m impressed, you seem to be able to spectacularly piss him off even though you’re incapable of being mean.” Dakota laughed wryly.
“I’m not trying to upset him, but maybe I should be. He’s being awful. I didn’t think what happened would have pissed him off that much.”
“What went down?”
“It was nothing. Or at least nothing I want to talk about anyway.”
“Stay strong, sweetie, and pull him up on it if he pushes you too far.”
“Yeah.” Chloe huffed. She thought about Timmy telling her to stay strong on the night of the explosion and her heart squeezed. “Sorry, I need a break,” she said, walking out of the drawing room into the adjacent kitchen and taking a few deep breaths to get her on an even keel again. Chloe poured a glass of water from the filter and leant her elbows on the kitchen bench, resting her chin in her hands.
“You okay?” Timmy asked quietly.
“What do you care? You’ve been in a hell of a mood with me all morning and I have no idea what I did wrong. I tried to kiss you, you shut me down. So fucking what? Grow up.” Chloe was holding onto her emotions by the barest of threads. Her raised voice reverberated around the little room, her disapproval radiating off her.
“I care. I do.”
“You have a shitty way of showing it sometimes. Last night you were… Urgh, never mind. This morning, you’re being a dick. Am I so repulsive that you can’t bear the thought of even kissing me?”
“No, pretty girl. It’s me.”
“Code for I’m grossed out by the thought of touching you.”
“I told you that it’s me, not you,” he growled.
“Yeah, whatever.”
Timmy was on her in a flash, pinning her hands behind her and backing her against the wall, holding her in place with the weight of his hips. “I’m not disgusted by you. Does it feel like I’m turned off?” Timmy said, swiveling his hips so that the unmistakable bulge in his pants pressed against the soft skin of her belly. “I can’t do us.”
“Why not?” Chloe breathed, looking up into the depths of his grey eyes. She wanted to touch him, wanted to pull his face closer to hers even just to experience a no-holds-barred kiss from him once.
“I’m sorry, Chloe.” Timmy let her go and turned to walk out of the room.
Chloe yelled, “Fuck you, Timmy. You’re a coward,” before he’d even taken the second step away from her.
His reaction was lightning fast. Slamming her against the wall again, he took her in a hard kiss, his tongue possessing her mouth, not giving her a chance to breathe, to react to him. He wrapped her hair around his fist and tugged hard, angling her face away from his so he could trace the line of her jaw with his teeth, nipping her on the sensitive skin of her neck before taking her lips again punishingly hard. Chloe knew they would be bruised after his kiss and likely her neck too but she dared not show a hint of resistance in case he stopped. The pounding of his heart against her chest and the slightest of tremors in his touch left Chloe with the distinct feeling that Timmy’s control was slipping. Then it stopped. She knew the exact moment he surrendered all the pent-up desire he harbored toward her into his kiss, his touch. With his free hand, he grasped her wrists, pulling her hands free from their grip on the front of his navy blue button down shirt and lifted them over her head, immobilizing her. He returned his mouth to hers and she responded eagerly, her tongue tangling with his as they explored and teased.
Chloe bit Timmy’s lip and he groaned as she sucked it into her mouth, soothing the sting with a gentle swipe of her tongue. He released her wrists and ran his fingers down her back until they rested on her waist. He pulled her body even closer to his if that were possible, molding them together from head to toe.
Chloe ran her hands along his strong arms feeling every ripple of hard muscle twitching underneath her soft touch. She threaded her fingers into his soft hair and tugged, as her other hand explored the planes of his back. She gasped into his mouth as his hand found her breast, pinching her nipple between his fingers. Never had she felt anything so erotic. His kiss screamed of possession, of hot, hard, dirty sex on whatever surface happened to be available.
Timmy let go of Chloe’s hair and lifted her onto the bench. She wrapped her legs around his waist for fear of him pulling away. Heat flooded her as he ground his hard cock against her hot core. They both moaned as sensation rocketed through them, their mouths never leaving each other’s.
They both froze when Rake cleared his throat behind them. “Fuck,” Timmy breathed, resting his forehead against Chloe’s.
“Chloe’s sister is here. And it was hard to miss what was happening in here. She’s pissed.”
“Which one?” Timmy rasped.
“Claire. She needed to drop off something,” Chloe wh
ispered. “She wasn’t supposed to be here until this afternoon.”
“I’m sorry, Chloe,” Timmy said, pulling away from her.
“For what?”
“I shouldn’t have done that. Shouldn’t have kissed you. It won’t happen again. I’m sorry for taking advantage of you.” Spinning on his heels, he walked away from her.
“Oh, for God’s sake, you didn’t take advantage of me. Didn’t you feel me kissing you back?” Chloe’s frustration with Timmy was back in full force. He was treating her with kid gloves and she was sick of it. Chloe hopped off the bench and raced after him. “Timmy, stop.”
“No, Chloe. Go to your sister.”
“Timmy. Please.”
“Go, Chloe. I can’t be with you. Don’t you get that?”
“No,” she whispered. The little piece of her heart that hadn’t broken when her parents died was left shattered after Timmy’s dismissal. He was back to being stubborn; that fiery passion he momentarily gave into, gone in a flash. With a heavy heart, she went to see her sister in the main part of the studio.
“What the hell was going on back there? What sort of shop is this? You’re supposed to be training to be a tattooist and instead, he’s assaulting you out the back while the rest of the staff are sitting out here with smirks on their faces. You’re coming home with me now. Let’s go. We’ll get you a job somewhere else,” Claire said vehemently as she tried to snatch at Chloe’s wrist.
Chloe yanked her hand back and stepped out of Claire’s reach. There was no way she was going to take all the crap she was being served without a fight. “No, Claire. Not happening. I’m an adult and I’ve made my decision. This is what I want to do and where I want to work. Everyone here is great and Rake and Timmy are amazing mentors. I’m not giving that up.”
