by L. P. Maxa
“You are to me.”
She had me there. I’d found myself on more than one occasion going out of my way to make her smile. And this dinner? I never, and I mean never, agreed to see my clients after I’d tattooed them. It blurred a line, and it was against my own personal policy. I could tell myself it was because Evie seemed like she could use a friend, except she was hot as fuck and friendship wasn’t on my mind when I looked at her.
“Will you have sex with me?”
I choked on the tater tot I’d just popped into my mouth. “What?” I pounded my chest, coughing and trying to clear my airway. Had I heard her right? Was I hallucinating?
“Will you have sex with me?” She spoke louder, enunciating every word like I didn’t speak English. And also like we weren’t in a crowded restaurant on a Friday night.
“Are you serious?” Not that this was the first time I’d been propositioned by a chick after I inked her. It was the adrenaline; it was the rush. I always turned them down. It wasn’t a good mix. They tended to mistake the overabundance of endorphins as love at first sight. It didn’t really seem like she was that kind of girl though. She was quiet and reserved, or at least she had been two hours ago. “Uh, Evie, don’t get me wrong. You’re sexy as fuck, and I’d love to.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
How had her roommate ever thought she was shy? There wasn’t nothing shy about this chick. “No. But I, uh…”
“I’m not asking you to marry me, or even date me.” She wiped the corner of her mouth with her still pristine napkin. “One night. That’s it.” She folded her hands and put them in her lap.
“Just one night?” Was this a trap? Was she going to tie me to my bed and then murder me? It was the quiet ones you had to look out for, that had to be a saying for a reason, right?
“Yep. One night.” She took a deep breath and then bit at her plump bottom lip. She’d done that a few times back at the shop. and each time I felt like my brain had short-circuited. “What do you say?”
This was a hella terrible idea. This was something I never did, not once. But damn she was hot, and I really wanted to see what she was like when she let go. It was as if I couldn’t help myself where she was concerned.
“Ah, yeah.” I raised my hand, signaling our waiter. If she wanted to kill me, at least I’d die happy. “Let’s go.”
***
Evie was standing in my living room, a chilled glass of wine in her hand. Yeah, I had wine. Didn’t make me a pussy or anything. She’d seemed so bold and sure of herself in the restaurant. But the closer we’d gotten to my place, the more she’d clammed up. I turned on some music and then joined her, setting my beer bottle on the coffee table.
“I can take you home any time. There is no pressure here, okay?” She was the one who wanted to come back to my place; she was the one who had put sex on the table. But I’d never push, and I sure as fuck would never make her feel guilty for backing out.
She shook her head, downing her wine. “Can I have some more?” That was her second glass. When she’d drained the first one I hadn’t thought too much about it. But now? Asking for a third in under five minutes?
“Nope.” I raised my eyebrows as I shook my head. “If you need to drink a bottle of wine to hook up with me, that probably means you don’t actually want to.” I sent her an understanding smile. “And that’s okay. It’s totally okay. I can take you home. Or we can watch a movie and you can sleep on the couch. I can take you home tomorrow.” I’d do anything she wanted to. I liked hanging out with her, and if she told me she wanted to go on a midnight stroll down the shoulder of I-75, I’d do that too. The shop didn’t open until noon on Saturdays; I had the time.
“No, I want to stay.” She straightened her spine, lifting her chin. “I need to do this.”
She needed to do this? What the hell did that mean? I was seconds away from asking her when she kind of launched herself at me. I caught her hips, grabbing her perfect ass when she wrapped her legs around my waist. Her mouth on mine felt amazing, and her kiss only a little timid.
I moved one hand to her silky dark hair as I sat down on the couch, Evie straddling my lap. She moved back, giving herself room to take off her shirt. My mouth immediately went to her white lacey bra and my fingers to the clasp in the back.
She smelled like oranges and her skin was the smoothest I’d ever felt. I moved my mouth back to her neck, my hands covering her small tits. She fumbled with my belt, and I slid one hand into her shorts. “You’re so fucking wet.” I rubbed on her clit, my dick straining against my zipper. I needed to taste her, I had to.
“I’m sorry.”
“Huh? For what?” I sat up a little, maneuvering her to her back. I pulled her shorts off, careful not to rub against her fresh ink. I placed kisses on her flat, bare stomach, working my way down to where I really wanted to be.
“You s-said, I w-was, um…”
Her voice was small, her words stuttered in an almost whisper. I picked my head up, confused. “Wet?” She nodded, the blush on her cheeks more red than pink. It was then that I noticed the tremor in her legs, the shallowness of her breaths. The bold Evie from dinner had vanished, and in her place was a girl that seemed terrified.
Chapter Four
Evie
“Evie? Are you okay?”
Well. I was freaking out, but determined as hell. Did that count as okay? “I, uh, I…”
“You’re fucking shaking.” Nicky reached behind him, pulling a blanket off the back of the couch and wrapping it around my topless-for-the-first-time-with-a-guy body. “What’s going on?” His face wore that concerned-in-a-somewhat-suspicious-kind-of-way look.
He’d tried to give me an out, more than once. And I’d refused every single time. I didn’t want to leave, and I didn’t want to abandon my plan. I could be whoever I wanted to be, and I didn’t want to be myself. I didn’t want to be a plain, boring virgin. I wanted to be fun and wild and sexy. I wanted to be more like the rest of my family. I wanted people to look at me like I was something special, like they were lucky for having met me.
“Nothing. I’m fine.” I leaned forward, placing kisses against his tight pecs. That was a thing right? I should have watched more R-rated movies.
“You need to tell me what’s going on.” He put his warm hands on my shoulders, pushing me back gently. “Right now.”
I sat up, keeping my eyes trained in my lap, but that didn’t help me find the right words. I could see his hard-on pressing through his jeans. My throat went a little dry, so it took me even longer to answer him. “I’m a virgin.” His eyes went a little wide, but he didn’t say anything. “And I don’t want to be, so…”
“So you figured you’d go home with the tattoo artist, the guy covered in ink who says fuck every other word? He’s probably got no morals, right?” He shook his head. “You know I’d have been able to tell, right?”
He sounded kind of pissed, but he was still holding me, keeping me warm by his side. That was something, right? “I didn’t think those things about you, not ever. I wanted to come home with you because you were nice to me, because you were kind.”
“Do you even find me attractive? Did you even want to kiss me?”
“Yes,” I answered immediately and truthfully. “I swear. I think you’re gorgeous and your little chuckle gives me butterflies. I loved every second that you were touching me in your shop. I wanted more, for the first time in my life…I wanted more.”
He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’m not doing this. I’m not taking your virginity. I don’t know what you were expecting to happen, but I’m driving you home.”
He stood up, setting me on my feet and pulling the blanket tighter around me. He was so caring, so empathetic. I almost hated myself for what I was about to do to him. But I’d come this far; I’d made up my mind. I was going to make the next four years of my life a hell of a lot more exciting than the last.
“If you don’t do it, I’ll head to the first b
ar I see and find someone else.” I clenched my teeth, almost wanting to vomit at the thought. Was I bluffing? I had no freaking clue, and that was bad. I didn’t recognize the voice coming out of my mouth. I’d never met that girl before.
“Stop.” He grabbed my wine glass and took it into his kitchen, flipping on the light. He rinsed it out, setting it in the sink and then resting his hands against the stainless-steel farmhouse frame. “You’re being ridiculous.” He wasn’t looking at me, but I could see his concerned expression in the reflection of the window above the sink.
“I’m not kidding.” I was a horrible person. Well, this new Evie James was a horrible person. But he told me to stand up for myself, right? I was standing up for the person I wanted to become. I was fighting for my future here in Dallas. I wanted to change, and this was one huge piece of the puzzle. I needed to be the opposite of the shy prude kindergarten teacher. I needed to know how to be bold. I needed to learn how to tell people to fuck off. “You take me home? That’s putting me on a campus surrounded by thousands of horny teenage boys.” My tattoo had been an accidental step one. Dinner with Nick? Unintentional step two. Letting the only guy that had ever made me long for slow kisses and lingering touches take my virginity, deliberate step three.
“Why are you acting like this?” He finally spun around, his expression a little angry. Not that I could blame him; I was being a real asshole. “Why are you throwing this experience away?”
I wasn’t throwing it away. I was forcing the only guy who’d ever made me feel lust into taking it. “Because I need this to happen, and I need it to happen tonight. I need to wake up tomorrow and be the new me.” I bit at my lower lip, knowing his resolve was wavering when his eyes trained in on the motion. I kept pushing. “It’s one night, and I’d really rather it be with you.”
“The devil you know? Is that how this works?” he scoffed, his gaze morphing into an almost sadness.
I shook my head, taking a few steps toward him. “I want you. I can feel it in my body. I can feel the pull. When you touch me, I get chills.” That was how it was supposed to feel, right? Desire? “I’ve never felt anything like this before and—”
He threw his head back and let out a little laugh that didn’t sound all that humorous. “It’s the endorphins from the tattoo. You’re high on adrenaline and dopamine, not me.” He wagged his finger at me. “Which is exactly why I never bring girls home after I work on them.”
“You’re wrong.”
“I’m so fucking right.”
“The high from the tattoo made me bolder, made me brave. But the way you make me feel—I noticed that before the needle even pierced my skin. You were the first guy to ever make me want, make me long for more.” I took a step in his direction. “Why shouldn’t you be the first guy to show what more feels like?”
His Adam’s apple moved as he worked to swallow, and I knew once again, he was wavering. “Fuck, Evie…”
“You get one night, I get what I want. And we both wake up tomorrow, happy.” I had to. I had to wake up tomorrow happy. I had to make it here. I couldn’t run home to the compound crying like a lost kitten. I needed to be able to make a name for myself. When I heard people talking about me behind my back I wanted it to be in awe, not annoyance. I wanted to rule this damn campus and make everyone pay for making me feel like I was less than.
“You’re backing me into a corner and putting me in a really shitty position.”
“You don’t want to have sex with me? Because back at dinner you seemed really on board.” I raised one eyebrow, challenging him. He’d all but screamed at our waiter to hurry up with the bill. And he’d told me more than once that he thought I was pretty.
“Of course I want to have sex with you.” He rolled his green eyes and then gestured down to his crotch. “My dick is straining against my damn zipper so fucking hard I probably have the imprint. But I was on board for one night, one random hookup with a willing participant.”
“Are you prejudiced against virgins? Is there something wrong with me because I haven’t been with a multitude of guys?” I was being utterly absurd, but for some reason it seemed to be working. “You can only ‘hook up’ with chicks that could possibly have an STD?”
“Evie, come on. You’re eighteen years old. Wait for someone you actually love. Or hell, at least someone you like.”
“I like you.” I shrugged a bare shoulder, the blanket slipping down my arm. I wasn’t lying; I did like him. I liked him a lot. And if I wasn’t about to start my new life, maybe I’d want more from him. “You want me, I want you. We like each other. We enjoyed each other’s company enough to go to dinner, right? I’m asking you for a favor. And I get it, it’s a big favor for someone you’ve only know for a few hours.” I licked my lips, stepping closer still. “But is it really that much of a hardship for you? Would it be so terrible to spend the night with me?” I could see the waver in his gaze, and it made me bolder than I already was. I stepped into him, looking up, my eyes wide. “Just one night.”
“I don’t want this to be a regret for you.”
“It won’t, I swear.” I wasn’t lying to him. I wasn’t sure how I knew, but I could feel it in my soul. I’d met Nicky for a reason; everything about this night had been perfect. It was like I was right where I was supposed to be. I wasn’t scared. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to feel fear in his presence. Nerves? Butterflies? Heck yes. But never fear.
“If we do this, we do it my way.” His way? I thought there was really only one way to do it. “We start at the beginning.”
“The beginning?”
He nodded, his hands going back to my hips. “I’m not going to toss you onto my bed and fuck you like it’s nothing. It’s not nothing.” His voice had a slight shake to it and it was making me smile. “You said one night, which means we have all night. We take things slow. We take our time. And at the end, if you still want to, then I’ll do it.”
“Okay.” I felt like the shittiest person in Dallas. Basically, I’d conned and lied my way into this guy’s bed. But I wouldn’t back down, not now, not when I’d already come this far.
My new life started as soon as the sun came up tomorrow, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Chapter Five
Nick
I wasn’t a monster, and I wasn’t an asshole. But Evie’s request had made me feel like one for a few minutes. I knew what a lot of people saw when they looked at me, especially here in Dallas. Near the SMU campus? I stuck out like a sore tattooed thumb. And that was fine by me, because I liked me. I liked my shop, I liked my art, and I liked who I was.
I guess Evie didn’t have that luxury, which made me sad for her. It also made me wish I would have gone in a different direction with the advice I’d given her earlier. I had wanted her to learn to be happy in her own skin, but it must have come out all wrong. Because she was standing in front of me, naked except for the blanket still wrapped around her body, asking me to keep going.
After our argument in the kitchen, which she’d won, I’d picked her up and carried her back to the couch. I sat her in my lap, kissing her lips and showing her how to grind against me. Showing her what friction felt like, showing her how to move and make herself feel good. Her head fell back, her long hair tickling my hands on her hips. I wanted to wrap it in my fist. I wanted her down on her knees in front of me, her eyes pleading. But I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t make this night about anything but her.
She’d backed me into a corner, and I truly hated her for it for a good three minutes. But then she’d dug her nails into my shoulders and bit that sexy bottom lip of hers. After that, all my hate went away. In its place was affection, and a fuck ton of lust. I’d told her to stand up. I’d ordered her to lose the borrowed shorts. I moved her panties to the side, teasing her clit and making her cry out in a quick release. She was so responsive to my every touch. I hadn’t even been inside her yet, and I had her panting and begging for more in my arms.
“Keep going, Nick,
please.” Her forehead was on my shoulder, her breaths hot against my bare skin.
I put my hands under her thighs, lifting her effortlessly and setting her down on her back. I hovered over her face, brushing light kisses against her lips. Each time she arched up, searching for more contact. “Say it again, dove.” I needed to be sure every step of the way. I needed to be sure.
“Keep going.” She wrapped her arm around my neck, pulling my mouth down to collide with hers. “Please, Nick.” My name, whispered from her lips, was the hottest sound I’d ever heard.
I moved down her body, trailing wet kisses along the way before I settled between her creamy thighs. I watched as I slid two fingers inside her, making her eyes widen in surprise. She tensed up a bit, but her expression was still relaxed, lust filled. “Stop tightening up, let go a little.” I nipped at her smooth skin.
When she did what I asked, I started to move my fingers in and out of her tight pussy. I needed her pliant and liquid before I even attempted to fuck her. I could lie to myself and say that the jury was still out, that I might not go through with it. But that was utter bullshit. I was completely enamored with the girl writhing against my hand. I loved the thought of being the first person inside her body, like I loved being the first person to ink her skin. I was a sick bastard, and I was going to hell.
I dipped down, taking her clit in my mouth and working her to another, louder, release. She was all but screaming. The quiet virgin was disappearing before my hungry eyes. I got off the couch, holding my hand out and helping her to her feet.
“What’s wrong?”
I put my finger to my lips and led her into my bedroom. I wasn’t going to let her first time be on a damn couch. I’d meant what I’d said earlier. I wasn’t going to let her treat tonight like it was nothing, and I wasn’t going to either. I pulled her against me, kissing her, letting my hands travel all over her naked body. My dick was so unbelievably hard by this point and still straining against my zipper. This time when her hands moved to my buttons, they were steady. She wasn’t nervous anymore, and that made me smile.
