“God,” she whispered from beside him. He was there suddenly, looming over her, his tongue in her mouth, her taste on her tongue, and her arms slipped up and around his shoulders. She sucked at his lips. His cock was hard against her hip. “You need the same thing?”
“Hell yeah, babe. I need to shoot so hard and fast…” To emphasize his point, he humped into her side.
“Mmm. Can’t let you suffer like that.”
“No, doll, you can’t.” He shuddered when she reached between them and wrapped her hand around his cock. He was hard and was throbbing in her palm. “At least, fuck, I hope you don’t.”
“Where do you want it? Mouth? Or hand job?”
“Blow me.” His answer came immediately, followed by a jerk of his cock between her fingers. “My cum should be down your throat or somewhere inside your body but never wasted on your hand.”
His crudeness turned her on. A lot. He was a sweet man, hotter than hell, patient, adventurous, and at times, he was crude. She could well imagine he’d been good as a lawyer and knowing he was well educated, cultured made his ‘blow me’ comment even more arousing.
Annie crawled again, this time down the blankets and knelt between his legs. She kept her hand around him and soon enveloped him in her mouth. She didn’t waste time with finesse or preamble. She didn’t go down slow and easy. She took him all the way in, all the way to the back of her throat. As hungry for an orgasm as he was, she was just as hungry for a taste of cock. It had been way too long since her last lover and no one had come anywhere close to tripping her trigger like Brax. A mix of street tough and refinement, charming words and wicked ink. He was bad boy and gentleman all rolled into one.
Her throat molded to the slide and curve of his cock and when she lifted, then swallowed him again, it was perfection. Not too thin, not too thick, not too long, and most definitely not too short.
She worked her mouth over him amid his groans and thrusts and his fingers tangled in her hair. Her nipples dragged over the blanket as she rocked and shifted inside his thighs, her pussy wet and hungry again. She wanted to climb him, ride him, keep him. He should always be naked, the art on his body visible to her. It would take her days, maybe weeks to trace every tat. She wanted that. She wanted to touch and taste and slip her tongue over each minute inch of Brax’s skin.
She licked upward along the shaft. She smiled around the head when she thought about having him at her disposal where she could explore him quickly, or at her leisure.
“What are you grinning at, kitty cat?”
Annie giggled. “Nothin’.”
“Uh huh. Well, tell me later, will ya? I wanna know.”
“Why later?” she asked just before sucking the tip between her lips like a lollipop.
“Because you need to stop teasing and pull my cum from my balls right now.”
“These?” She wrapped her palm around the sacs between his legs and lightly tugged. They were hot and tight against his body. At her ministrations, he dug his heels in and lifted his ass. He humped in her hands and thrust at her mouth.
“Damn, Annie. Please.”
She kept a firm hold on his sensitive flesh, and covered him until her lips surrounded the base of his cock. He sighed in pleasure and trembled. Up and down she slid over him, keeping him hard and needy.
His tattoos drifted in and out of her peripheral vision with each of his moves. The colors blurred in abstract images. She couldn’t imagine anything hotter, anything she wanted more than to look at, wake up with, experience tattoos and their personalities every day. And of any man she knew, Brax was the man with tattoos she’d love to see naked each morning.
And speaking of mornings…
He fisted her hair in both his hands and pushed his cock deep into her throat. He left her with little choice but to take him, which she did without complaint or protest.
The feel of him, taste of him sank into her pores, her taste buds. Spice and musk and smooth, hard man.
With the constant drive across her tongue, Annie moaned and wiggled her ass. She loved giving head, the invasion of the shaft, the sticky saltiness of precum. Sometimes nothing gave her more pleasure or turned her on more than offering herself up for it.
“Your lips stretched like that, baby… So fucking sexy. Time for me to paint your tongue, and those pretty lips with my come.”
Annie scraped her fingertips across his hips and wrapped her hand around the shaft, firmly stroking the length. Brax’s grunts, echoed steadily in her ears, growing louder with each suck of the head, each press of her tongue to the vein on the underside.
He wanted to give her his come and she would do all she knew how to coax every drop from his balls.
“Put me back in your throat.”
Annie shook her head slightly, which tugged the crown back and forth between her lips. Brax whimpered Annie thrilled at the sound, thrilled at the knowledge she could move him to vulnerability.
Big, bad, tattooed Brax.
“P-please, baby…” His thrusts in her hand were short and forceful, erratic. She relented and swallowed him. He sighed, then groaned, then fucked. Annie breathed through her nose and Brax’s hands tightened in her hair. He pushed and pulled, yanked and tugged until he forced himself a deep as he could.
The bitter tang of semen slid down over the back of her tongue and she swallowed. Brax jerked and thrust and jerked again, shuddering in the end until he fell back against their makeshift bed on the floor of the tattoo shop.
Annie licked him clean, sucked him softly. This was one of her favorite parts of making love to a man with her mouth. She loved providing this bit of aftercare, bringing her partner down slowly. Brax’s hands gentled in her hair and he pet her, then urged her up.
He cupped his palm behind her neck and kissed her soundly. “You’re more than I ever imagined. I am the luckiest fucker alive right now,” he murmured against her lips.
“Yes.” She smiled. “Yes you are.”
Chapter Four
“Why did you stop being a lawyer?” The inquiry was a long time coming. Annie had been curious about the career change. Joe had always told her that Brax loved being a lawyer. Of course, Joe had also been happy when Brax had called him looking to take Joe up on a job at Love and Tattoos. “I mean, looking at you right now, I can’t imagine you in a suit and tie.”
Brax grinned and stretched his arms out in front of him, pulling at imaginary sleeves. “I don’t ever stop being one, I just don’t practice all that much, but I keep up with my dues and take care of legal matters for the business. And of course you can’t. I don’t think you’ve ever seen me in one. For your information though, I totally rock a suit and tie.”
With a sideways, body length glance, Annie had no doubt he did. “Why though? Why did you quit the firm you worked for? Joe never told me that.”
Brax relaxed again into their makeshift mattress on the floor and stared at the ceiling. “Wake up call, I guess.”
“How so?”
“You really want to hear this?”
“Yes.”
“We could be doing other things.”
“I want to know.”
“And then more sex?”
“And then a snack,” she corrected per her stomach’s needs. It was protesting all the energy consumption and lack of replenishment. “Maybe sex after that.”
“Sex after. I’m going to hold you to it.”
“You’ve already held me to the desk,” she remarked offhandedly.
“Ooh yes, but there’s the wall, the front counter, the window even. There are many other surfaces we can tackle.”
“Something else I’ll consider, then.”
“You drive a hard bargain, baby.”
“I drive a lot of hard things. Now, tell me.”
“Okay, okay. Damn.” He rolled to his side and propped his head on his arm, giving her a stern look. Annie giggled and mirrored his move, enjoying the sight as well as the voice. Their faces were somewhat level, but her toe
s met at his shin. He was a good bit taller than she was, though it didn’t seem to matter in any way that was important. He wasn’t buff, but lean and muscled enough that his embraces were strong. She felt safe with him, comforted, protected. It was funny, really. She’d never paid much attention to his height until now. Her eyes had always been more interested in his ink and his smile than anything else.
Of course, she was more or less drawn to him in every way imaginable; it was only heightened after tonight. He ―
“The ground was red with blood and the sky was purple. We ―”
Blood? The word yanked her out of her thoughts. “What the hell are you talking about?” she interrupted.
Brax burst out laughing. “You weren’t paying a damn bit of attention to anything I was saying, so I started making shit up. You should see the look on your face. Wide eyes. Jaw dropped.” He leaned close and kissed her slack mouth. “Too funny, baby.”
Annie scratched him with her toenail. “Jerk.”
“Why am I a jerk?” He followed his words with a finger poke in her thigh. “You’re the one who zoned out. What were you thinking?”
“You’re making fun of me.” Not that it wasn’t deserved, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. She wasn’t going to admit what she was thinking either even though it hadn’t been dirty. “I’m listening now. Promise.”
Brax eyed her skeptically. “Okay, but if you drift off again, I’m going to pull you over my lap for a spanking.”
She’d never been spanked. Maybe she’d like it. Maybe if it came at the hands of Brax, she’d really, really like it. “I’ll do my best to stay riveted.”
“Smartass,” he groused. “Long story short, my boss came into the office on a Saturday morning when I happened to be there. I had on flip flops though and a couple buttons undone on my shirt and he saw the ink below my throat. He paled a little and tried to make small talk but kept glancing over. I asked if the ink bothered him. After a long, uncomfortable pause, he said it was frowned on in the firm. Tattoos made people seem irresponsible, loose, unreliable. You know the drill. He told me he’d keep it to himself, but I should dress more appropriate when I was in the office, even on weekends. Got me thinking and by the time my vacation was over, I decided it was time the firm and I part ways. I probably already knew it, but that conversation pushed me the rest of the way. I didn’t want to hide who I was because of what others thought.” He shrugged. “I called Joe, asked if his offer to partner up was still open.”
“And the rest was history?”
“As they say.”
“Why didn’t you start your own practice?”
“Much as I love the law and as good as I was at it, I love the tattoo business more. I work with my best friend, dress how I want, come and go without having to account for my whereabouts, and now that you’re home –” he turned his head to smile at her “– I get to see you every day.”
Annie returned his smile and hoped he knew she felt the same way about him. She rolled to her stomach and braced her chin on her hands, reveling in the flutters in her belly from his sentimental words. “No one ever saw mine. Not at the ad agency, at least. I knew what people thought, just like you. Not all people think that way, but I guess I just played it safe, in case. I’ve seen Joe treated horribly because of his ink, how others sneer. Some have been rude about the tattoos.”
“I’m sure all the piercings in his one ear and the gauge, didn’t help the outward perception,” Brax said.
“Probably not. There’s an idea that people with tattoos and piercings are delinquent and I didn’t want that. Even though I only have a few pieces of ink, I just… It wasn’t shame, you know? It… I don’t know.”
“You were trying to fit in. That’s all. Is the swirl the reason you had long hair?”
“Yeah. Strange, the things we’ll do and put ourselves through so that we don’t draw undue attention, and so we appear, at least outwardly, as part of the group.”
“There are places and parts of society that want us to assimilate. You weren’t made that way. Neither was I. Joe knew it from the beginning that he wasn’t and didn’t try.”
“Seems maybe he was the smart one.”
“You like the short hair?” he asked. He followed the question by running his hands through the black strands. She moaned softly at the tender massage of her scalp and the warmth of his palm, the strength in his fingers.
“Yeah. I’d missed it.” Annie dropped her head forward as Brax’s hand traveled down the back of her neck. “You wouldn’t believe how good it felt to get it cut.”
“I bet I would.” He slid closer, continuing the light massage. “Just as freeing as it was for me to remove the shirt and tie.”
“Mmm. You do understand. I didn’t realize it at the time that I felt weighed down by the charade of trying to belong.”
“I know.” A kiss was placed on the top of her nearest shoulder. “I told you, baby. I know you better than you think I do. It’s as simple as what you eat and drink. Even that you pull your art away from me when I get too close.”
“Sandwiches and coffee preferences do not intimate knowledge prove, detective,” she countered.
“True, true. But I do know you love ink, piercings too,” he whispered hotly, making her shiver as lava pooled between her legs. “And you’re up for challenges. By your choice of bra and panties, neon pink and green polka dots? You embrace color and a little whimsy, but your outward appearance is fairly conservative, unremarkable. You are starting to travel down that old road again with your rock star t-shirts. Mmm. I always did love that about you. However, most people would never know you work in a tattoo parlor. Your choice of glasses is adorable, glittery and like totally girly. The —”
Annie shoved him with her hand and laughed. “Like totally? That’s so Valley Girl.”
Brax laughed with her. “And?”
She was charmed. Every time he opened his mouth or smiled or touched her, she was charmed. “Nothing. I love it. What else?”
“Not going to laugh at me anymore?”
“No.”
He regarded her, studied her at length, his gaze roaming her face. It was interesting to be blatantly observed. It was like having layers peeled away without knowing. She knew she was giving her confusion away, her questions away by looking back at him, but she didn’t care. He’d tell her what he saw.
She didn’t have to wait long either.
“The way you nip at your thumb when you’re nervous, purse your lips into a near pout when you’re thinking. The way you play with your earrings as you draw, or turn your coffee cup around and around in your fingers. The thing that has had me concerned about you is your art. It’s less inspired than it used to be. It’s the shadow that has no shape, no life.”
“Gee, tell me how you really feel.” Annie closed her eyes, shutting him out, but opened them quickly enough again. Criticism was hard to take, especially for an artist. She’d been told all her life that she needed to develop a thick skin. But hearing it from Brax, well meaning as it was, full of concern as it was, based in fact or not, it still stung “No one else has said anything. Joe certainly hasn’t. It can’t all be bad. You liked my sun well enough.” She heard the defensive tone of her voice
Brax’s smile was indulgent. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to kiss it or smack it off his face “No. Joe’s just happy to have you home and thinks you just need to readjust to a slower, more casual pace of life.”
“Did you ever think maybe he’s right and your concern is misplaced?”
“Yes. Then again, maybe he’s not right. And yes, I do like the sun you drew. I like a lot of your stuff. But not all of it is you. There’s a lot that’s bordered, designed by rules There’s a rose I saw you working on. It had no distinction. It’s something anyone could have sketched. On another page, there’s a skull without a story. It’s just…a skull.”
“It could be a phase,” she suggested.
“Really? That’s what you’re goin
g with?”
“I’m not sure. Shit. Brax I’m just not sure.”
“And that is why I’m here. I want you to be sure of you. Of me, too.”
“Do you think it’s possible to lose yourself without realizing it’s happening? Or find yourself before you realized you were even lost?”
“I suppose so, yes.”
“Do you think it’s possible to find yourself again, even if you’re not completely sure who you want to be?” There was uncertainty in her voice and it was something she wasn’t proud of. She had talent. She had ability. She had drive and desire and connections. She even had secret plans that she was dying to tell someone about. She just hadn’t known who to tell. Until tonight. Until now.
“Yeah, baby, I do.”
Annie hoped he was right. “I know you think you know me. I know you want to believe you’re clued in enough to know me better than anyone, even me and in some ways, you do. In other ways though, you don’t. You think you know my art, what it’s saying about me, but you’re wrong. The things you’ve seen in my tablets, in my notebooks aren’t the whole truth, aren’t me being blocked or uninspired.”
“Then what? Have you’ve gone along with all this tonight for the hell of it?”
She wondered if she burst his bubble too soon. He was mad and upset and she couldn’t blame him. “No, but sex is great for clearing the mind, boosting creativity.” She tried for a light, teasing tone but it fell flat.
“Then what?” he asked again, tightly this time. “If there’s nothing wrong, nothing holding you back, then why do you act so damn defensive? Why do you look lost and unsure? Shit. Maybe I am reading you wrong.” He growled in frustration. “Why do you push me away? Why do you look at me like you’re afraid I’m going to eat you alive half the time?”
“All of that is easy to answer,” she said, nudging him with her toes. “You noticed me when I came home. You do know me and I didn’t think you did, but this whole night has proven you do. At least in a way. I mean, I thought I was hiding my discontent well enough. I guess not.”
Love and Tattoos Page 5
