“What do you want from me?” He wrapped his hands around her arms and his fingers bit into her flesh. She winced and jerked back, and he apologized as he loosened his grip. “I can sign a paper filled with guarantees—whatever the hell you want—what will it take to convince you?”
Sadly, she shook her head and moved away. “I don’t know if you can. Maybe it would just be better if you go for now.” She yanked her stare from his deeply hurt gaze. “I need some time alone, and I really need to think for a while. A lot has happened fast.” Bekka glanced up at the clock. Anywhere but his eyes. “And, anyway, you better get going. Look at the time.”
Corey ran a slow hand through his long dark locks and shook his head. Taking quick strides away from her, he walked into the kitchen and snatched his jacket off the back of one of the chairs. Yanking it on as he opened the door, Corey charged out of the apartment without another word, or even a goodbye.
This time, Bekka knew it was over for good. She couldn’t get her hopes up again only to have them dashed. She would not show up tomorrow for the tattoo appointment, and if Corey decided to come over to see why, she’d let him know then that there was no hope of a second chance.
***
Chapter 8
Corey stalked to the back of his tattoo shop and up the wooden, creaky stairs to his apartment. The two bedroom suite upstairs was recently refurbished since the building was a heritage structure, build in the late 1800s in Moncton’s then booming fishing and farming days.
It was in beautiful shape, with light oak wainscoting and old-fashioned wallpaper. Corey had always been a fan of all things old and historic, just like Bekka. He had an appreciation for their timeless charm. It seemed a part of you journeyed back when you walked into the kitchen, with its old wood heated stove in one corner and a more modern oven near the dishwasher.
Despite his rough and tumble look, Corey was an excellent cook and had a great eye for taste and design,. Something Bekka had always appreciated in him. They were both of a contrary nature—a perfect fit for each other, with his soft side complimenting the rawer, rougher side of his personality. Bekka too had a rough, raw exterior when he met her (still did—the girl was tough), but a sweet, warm heart deep inside.
Quite thinking about her! he scolded himself. For the moment, he wanted to clear his thoughts, his head, and envisioning Bekka only caused a storm of electric emotions stirring through him like a cyclone—anger, love, lust, fear, and worry. What if he had lost her? What if he could never convince her that, this time, it would be just her and him. Even if it meant putting his foot down rather firmly with his step-mom, Corey would do whatever it took to get his Bekka back.
As he threw himself on the couch and shrugged out of his leather coat, Corey wondered if Bekka would show up for her tattoo appointment tomorrow. A stab of expected disappointment at her ditching the scheduled tattoo work made him pick his smartphone off the coffee table in front of the forest green couch. He punched his step-mother’s number into the keypad and heaved a deep sigh as the connection gave a mechanical, purring ring.
***
Jamie took the stairs up to Bekka’s apartment two at a time. He’d crept out the back of the tattoo parlor when Juanita had knocked on the front glass door. A huge fight was about to burst. He could tell by the incensed look on Corey face. The big man had been pacing and grumbling on and off all morning, and he’d tossed a few thundercloud glares Jamie’s way when he’d made a few minor mistakes on a practice skin he was working on.
Jamie had just arrived for work that day when Corey had been on the phone with his step-mom. He’d heard the yelling coming through the door and he had thought about turning around and leaving until the fire cooled. His buddy was in a rage, by the sounds of it. Corey’s mood was already sour, since Bekka hadn’t showed up for her tattoo appointment on Sunday—although he had confessed to Jamie that he hadn’t expect her to show anyway. Corey was a quiet, patient guy most days, but if something really got at him, gnawed and chewed enough, he could explode.
He knew, from picking up loud snippets of the conversation as he came closer to the door, that the fight with Juantia was over something to do with Bekka. Jamie’s stomach tightened and he waited outside a good ten minutes before he entered the tattoo shop, counting out the silence after he heard the phone slam into something when Corey threw it.
With no more clients booked that night, they’d closed up the shop early, and Jamie suspected his raging friend had planned on getting pissed alone as soon as he headed up to his apartment.
So when Juanita tapped on the door just after 10 PM, peeking around the CLOSED sign, her timing had been terribly off. As Corey’s gaze fell on her tentative, half-guilty smile through the clear glass, Jamie heard the unmistakable low growl erupt from deep in his friend’s throat.
Jamie couldn’t blame Corey for his anger at his step-mom. She was a great lady—had a heart of gold—but she had a tendency to be very overprotective of Corey and meddlesome. Corey tried to be as patient as he could with her smothering, gently putting his foot down when it was an absolute must, but things had come to a point where Jamie knew harsh words were about to fly.
He needed a diversion. Something to stop the fight from escalating to a point where things were said that could scar the relationship. And he hoped that seeing Bekka, and Bekka hearing what the argument was over, would show her how much Corey really did need her back. He couldn’t handle working with a big angry Russian who could kick his ass in a heartbeat for the next twenty years. Corey was his best buddy, but the tension today and last night, when he was around the usually gentle bear of a man, was unbelievably thick.
Jamie swallowed over the lump in his throat when his third knock went unanswered. “Come on Bekka, please.” He’d watched her close up shop and walk around the back of the sturdy, red brick building. She’d headed straight up to her apartment, and her car was still in the back lot.
Bekka opened the door, wearing a worn, almost see-through blue t-shirt and a pair of torn up old jeans. She had a mop in one hand and wore bright yellow cleaning gloves.
Her face went from annoyed to surprised when she saw Jamie. “Hey, kiddo. What the heck are you doing here?”
He blushed a bit as his eyes inadvertently drifted downward and Jamie caught the swell of her breasts, spilling over what looked to be a black underwire bra, through her thin t-shirt. Jamie yanked his gaze to her face and stammered, “Bekka…I—oh, hell, I know you and Corey had a fight about something, ’cause he’s been walking around like a bear with a sore ass for two days.” Jamie took his baseball cap off and ran a shaky hand over his short blond hair. “But Corey called Juanita and they must’ve had one hell of a fight earlier, ’cause she just showed up at the shop looking worried as hell, and Corey looks ’bout ready to spit fire.”
Bekka dropped the mop and pulled off her gloves, tossing them on the counter. She reached for something behind the door. “Let’s go.” Her face looked as concerned as his, and relief washed over him when he saw she held her wallet and a light coat. “I remember what happened last time those two had a major blow out.”
She locked the door and swung the jacket over her shoulder as she followed Jamie down the stairs and over to the tattoo parlor.
***
Bekka could hear the shouting as she and Jamie came up the sidewalk and neared the large front glass window of Black Magick Tattoo & Designs. She peered inside, but couldn’t see any sign of Juanita or Corey in the waiting area or near the front counter. Casting a worried glance over her shoulder at Jamie, she grabbed for the silver door handle and yanked on it. Thankfully it was unlocked. She strode quietly but quickly into the shop, with Jamie on her heels.
“You have one helluva a sense of timing, Mom. Christ, why can’t you just leave me alone long enough to live my goddamned life? You promised you’d give me space. No more smothering. Did we not agree on that? Did we not have that conversation?”
As she and Jamie crept nearer to the back tat
too area, Corey’s angry words floated out at them, along with the muffled, sniffly protests of Juanita.
“I swear, Juanita…” She heard his boots clip—hard and sharp—across the tile in the back room. “If you have ruined my second chance with her—” His voice broke and he took a long pause. “I don’t know…” A heavy sigh. “I don’t know if I can ever talk to you again, Mom, if Bekka turns me down after this.”
Soft sobbing drifted as Bekka moved down the hall. She practically lunged into the tattoo area to stop the ensuing upheaval between step-son and mother. Jamie bumped into her in his haste to also put some distant between the feuding pair, and they both went stumbling into the room.
“Hey, Corey.” She flashed a brilliant smile and swallowed her pride. Getting these two on neutral ground was more important that her anger and fears right now. She needed a quick reason for being here, and Bekka grabbed the first thing that popped into her head. “Sorry I didn’t make it over yesterday. I had to take some inventory in the store. I totally forgot about the tattoo. Every second Sunday of the month is my inventory day …” She realized she was on the cusp of rambling. “Hey Juanita!” Bekka veered course and walked toward the middle-aged woman, who was now sporting a shaky smile as she dabbed at her eyes. “Didn’t know you were coming into Moncton. How you doing?”
“I’m good, sweetie. Real good.”
Bekka wrapped the short, portly lady in a warm hug. As she pulled away from the embrace with her ex-mother-in-law, Bekka bumped into the wide, solid chest of her ex-husband.
“You came for the tattoo?” Corey frowned, darting a suspicious glance between her and Jamie, who blushed a telling red.
She flashed him an innocent, wide-eyed look and screwed up her face. “I know. My memory is terrible. Sorry I didn’t make it over yesterday.”
His dazzling smile hit her in the gut with both relief and love, and she knew, then and there, she could not write Corey’s offer of a second chance off as easily as she had vowed last night. But right now she couldn’t think about their future. Right now, winging it was all she could do, and she hoped for the best.
***
Once the heat settled, Corey ushered Jamie and Bekka out of the tattoo area while he had a quiet word or two with his step-mom. He and Juanita offered up a few smiling, forgiving words of apology to each other.
“I better go.” Juanita gave him a tentative kiss on the cheek.
Corey flashed her a sympathetic look when he saw the uncertainty in her wide brown eyes. She was so afraid of losing him, but she had to see that by smothering him in what she saw as “motherly affection” she was simply antagonizing their relationship and pushing him away.
“Give me a call when you get home.” He kissed her forehead and waved as she tossed a nod and another smile goodbye over her shoulder.
“I will,” Juanita promised, and then grabbed her purse from the far counter as she left the tattoo area and headed for the front entrance of the shop.
***
After Juanita left, Corey flashed Jamie a quick, secret look that let him know he wanted some time alone with Bekka. Blushing, and giving a quick nod, Jamie made some feeble excuse and left the tattoo shop.
Bekka fidgeted near the front glass counter where stainless, surgical steel body jewelry was displayed. She was pretending to look at the tattoo sheets on the wall, but Corey could tell she was stalling. He could feel the awkward energy coming off her after their recent fight, and admittedly he felt out of sorts, nervous and unsure of what to say first exactly.
“So…” he finally blurted, not missing the way she jumped slightly, startled by his voice. “Do you want to go with the same tattoo I removed—I still have the design sheet for it—or something different?”
She looked back to the wall of design sheets and then played with her full bottom lip. Corey watched her and felt the back of his neck grow warm. He cleared his throat—not to get her attention, but to clear the growing desire from his next words. “See anything you like, hon?”
Bekka crossed her arms beneath her ample breasts. She was wearing a snug, low-cut black tank-top today—a picture of one of her favorite horror characters, Pinhead, emblazoned on the front—and tight, low cut blue jeans. Damn, tattooing her wasn’t going to be easy. His adrenaline was thrumming through his body from today’s fight with his step-mom, and when his adrenaline kicked into high gear he grew hornier than hell.
Looking at her right now and thinking about last night’s fight, where he’d been truly terrified he’d lost her, Corey thought he’d rather suggest they go in that back room and use one of the two tattoo chairs for a better use than inking today. But, he didn’t know what kind of mood Bekka was in.
He knew Jamie had ran over to her apartment next door and got her to come over to break up the disagreement. Corey was no fool. In the past, any fight between him and Juanita over her clingy nature was always patched up by his quick-thinking, clever wife.
He also knew that didn’t necessarily mean they were back on good terms—let alone fucking terms. Bekka was wary of a second chance to begin with, so after their recent argument, and today’s display between him and Juanita, where did he really stand with her now? He was almost afraid to know, but he had to find out.
“What about something darker this time?” She wrinkled up her nose, and he just hoped Bekka didn’t notice his eyes glued to her well exposed cleavage. “I’m thinking a small portrait of H.P. Lovecraft.” She grinned wide. “To commemorate my love of horror—or maybe a small Cthulhu. What do you think?”
He couldn’t think. His gaze was still glued to those sumptuous breasts spilling from her shirt. Corey grinned and forced his gaze to meet hers. “I could do either.” He focused on the design sheet wall to keep his words and mind centered on the moment, instead of the lascivious thoughts racing through his head. “Where do you want the tattoo?”
She swallowed and chewed on her bottom lip, and Corey wondered if she was feeling the same indecision, the same sexual tension, that he was.
“I was thinking of putting it in the same place as the last one.” She rubbed her arm nervously and his eyes were involuntarily drawn back to her chest with the hypnotic bobbing of her breasts. “On my left hip.” It seemed the words were hard to get out, and her voice was slightly shaky.
Sheesh, she doesn’t believe in making this easy on me. But then, maybe that’s her idea? Corey couldn’t say. Bekka wasn’t really giving signals either way, and he didn’t want to push her and have another fight erupt. He had her in the tattoo shop, ready and willing to put his ink back beneath her skin. So, he wouldn’t try any “funny stuff,” unless she initiated it, of course.
He nodded and crossed his muscular arms over the front of his snug t-shirt. “I’ll have to draw it up first and then stencil it.” He looked up at the clock “It’s getting kind of late to do the tattoo tonight. You want to come back tomorrow for that, and we’ll just design something today?”
Bekka clapped her hands in front of her and puffed a large gust of relieved air. No real touching today then. That was good. She was in a disoriented headspace right now—drained by the drama of the last few days—and sex was the last thing on her mind. “Sounds good to me.”
“All right.” Corey smiled, feeling the tension between them begin to ease, as did his tense back muscles from the stress of the last two days. “Let’s go into the tattoo room and look through some books and get an idea of what you want, then I’ll draw it up.”
Nodding, Bekka followed him into the back area of the shop. She wondered if he had confronted Juanita about the strange woman’s text, but that would have to wait for another day. She was in no mood for confrontation tonight.
***
Chapter 9
“What about something like that?”
He held up two art books for Bekka to peer at. One sported a picture of Cthulhu depicted as a half-human half-squid, breaking through the doors of his ancient tomb to free the Ancients from their sleep in R’lyeh. T
he other picture was an old photograph of H. P. Lovecraft, sitting with his hands folded in his lap in a wingback chair.
“We could combine the two,” Corey continued. “Have H.P.’s portrait fade into the picture of Cthulhu near the bottom of the tattoo.” He turned from the pictures to face her to see what she thought of his suggestion. “What do you think?”
Her gaze darted back and forth between the two pictures and she rubbed her chin with an absent hand as she concentrated. “I like it. Let’s go for that.”
He smiled at her approval. “Great. I’ll get started on drawing it up and I can call you tomorrow when it is done.”
She took a seat on a stool near one of the wash up sinks. “Look, Corey…” Bekka dropped her gaze to her boots and heaved a heavy sigh. “Let’s forget the other night, all right?”
His face fell and his stomach lurched. Here it comes… She’s letting me down easily.
“At least.” She looked up and grinned. “At least the fight part. Let’s just put it behind us and start fresh today, okay?”
He nodded, and a broad smile spread over his lips, making him sport the dimples he hated so much. “Sounds good to me, hon.”
He settled at his sketch pad in the work area set for his stencil and tattoo design. Corey propped the two books open at the top of his work area and studied both pictures for a few minutes before he turned to Bekka to ask, “Do you want H.P.’s portrait to fade in at the bottom left corner or top right?”
“Bottom left.” She pursed her lips as if she was going to add something else.
“What’s that?” He put the pencil down and waited for her to speak. Corey’s heart pounded in his ears. He could sense Bekka was uneasy—had something left on her mind to say. And he was just hoping it wasn’t bad news.
“Nothing.” She grinned and let out a little laugh.
Curious now, Corey turned from his drawing desk and faced her on the swivel chair. “Come on. You can’t do that. Remember your promise. Besides, you know I hate it when you leave me up in the air.”
Bad Boys of BDSM Omnibus No. 1 Page 16
