Inked Souls (The Shaw Effect Duet)

by Lucia Grace

“I see that,” I reply before leaning down and kissing the smile on her lips. I swear, kissing her has become my favorite thing to do. Can’t keep my lips to myself when it comes to her.

  We keep kissing for another minute or so before both pulling away to start dancing.

  I wrap her up tight. Slender curves to hard ridges. No space between us.

  Not letting anything keep us apart.

  Not even the air around us.

  I band my arms low around her waist, my hands skimming the top of her perfect ass. Her small hands clutch my arms before sliding up my shoulders to settle against the sides of my neck.

  She hums low in her throat. Small, serene smile stretching her lips before she turns and lays her cheek against my chest.

  Hearing my heart beat for her.

  Then we start to move. Swaying in slow circles. Soaking it all in. The low beat of the song, the warm feel of our bodies pressed just right.

  This is us. Every night she’s working, I come after closing to take this moment with her. And give it all the same.

  Move her around the floor, hold her tight. Let the soft sounds of the music and the low beats of our hearts lead us.

  We dance through two songs. Just us.

  Fucking perfect.

  After dancing led to more kissing which led to touching that had us rushing out of there to rush back to my condo so we could tear at each other and make the kind of love only we can, Kennedy lies there on her stomach amongst the sheets of my bed. All tousled hair and flawless skin. Legs bent at the knee with her feet in the air and crossed at her ankles.

  Her face is turned toward me with her cheek against her forearms as I take her in. I’m lying on my side, one hand propping up my head while the other skims along the bare skin of her back.

  She moans softly as goosebumps skitter across her skin. A small, satisfied, and content smile crossing her unbelievably beautiful face.

  Not for the first time I take in her unmarked body. A contrast to my heavily inked hand trailing across her skin.

  “Ever think of getting some ink?” My rough voice breaks the silence. Her eyes open and look right into my soul.

  Shrugging, she says, “Not really.”

  “You’re stunning, angel. Perfect just the way you are. But I can’t help but imagine ink by my hand scrolled along your gorgeous golden skin.”

  She blushes at the lust coating my tone and the heat flaring in my eyes.

  The image making me harder than stone beneath the bed sheet.

  “What do you see?”

  “A dreamcatcher.”

  “A dreamcatcher?” she questions. “What’s that?”

  Tracing a lone finger across her goosebumped flesh, I get lost in the feel of her skin as I start to explain. “The dreamcatcher is a wooden circle full of string webbing that has feathers hanging from the bottom. They’re simple, but their meaning is very powerful and they can be quite beautiful. They’re popular in the Naive American culture and became known as magical webs that caught bad dreams and kept any harm from reaching you.”

  Sitting up with the sheet pooled at my waist, I grab Kennedy’s hand to gently pull her up to match my position. Facing me with her bare torso exposed, her long, wavy hair parted to fall over each of her tits with just the underside exposed.

  Takes everything I have not to reach out and palm each breast before dragging each rosy tip into my mouth.

  Refocusing my attention from her almost bare breasts to her completely bare torso, I place one tattooed hand to her rib cage. Seeing the design come to life in my mind and just dying to sketch it out and ink it on her skin. “I can see it starting here.” I point to her right side, at the bend that just starts toward her back. “The hoop would be shaded in black, with the webbing and strings in gray. I’d finish the feathers with a watercolor effect of different hues of green…to match your eyes.”

  “Wow,” she says breathlessly. “That sounds beautiful.” Her soft voice full of awe and wonder.

  “I wanna catch all your dreams, angel. Sift through them to weed out the bad so only the good remains.” My hand now cupping her cheek, my fingers sliding into her hair.

  Tears well immediately in her eyes as the most tender and beautiful smile stretches her lips. “You already do that, honey. You are my dreamcatcher.”

  I can’t not kiss her. Leaning in, I kiss her sweet lips softly. Trying to convey how much those words mean to me.

  Pulling away, Kennedy whispers, “Give me a truth.”

  I don’t hesitate. “I love you more than I ever thought possible.”

  She melts. I see it. Right there in front of me with a small smile on her lips. Her eyes turn soft, and I know my words had the impact I hoped they would.

  “Your turn, angel. Truth for a truth.”

  It’s her turn not to hesitate. “I’ve never been happier in my life than I am with you.”

  Not able to stay away a second longer, I lean forward and take her mouth in a kiss so powerful, I swear I feel the earth shake, my bones rattle, my soul ignite.

  We fall to the bed in a heap of heated moans and needy gasps. Our tongues dueling and tangling and seeking. Fucking consuming.

  Our mouths don’t stop, our hands joining in. Touching, caressing.

  I’m on my side leaning over Kennedy on her back beneath me. She’s writhing and rubbing up against me, driving me fucking wild.

  Ripping her mouth from mine on a gasp, she starts panting into the otherwise quiet room. Trying to catch the breath I stole from her. While I trail my lips over her chin, down her throat, where I nibble and suck on her pulse point. Dying to mark her.

  Moaning, small hands dive into my hair, lifting my head so our lips touch again.

  Our once frantic kisses turn soft and languid. Gentle and coaxing and just right.

  Pecking her swollen lips twice more, I pull away slowly and settle onto my back. Pulling my girl up on my chest.

  The both of us settling in and catching our breath.

  “I could stay right here, like this with you, forever,” she says after a few minutes.

  I look down to see a sweet, serene smile on her face.

  “If only you’d put me out of my misery and stay with me…”

  “Rhett,” she breathes out as she climbs from the bed. Quickly tossing on one of my tshirts that’s scattered along the floor. Exasperated because this isn’t the first time I’ve brought it up.

  I don’t give a shit that we’ve only known each other for barely two months and have only been together one. I want this woman in every aspect of my life. And that means in my home and in my bed.

  “We’ve talked about this,” she says softly. “I would love to be with you all the time. But the reason I moved here—”

  “Was for me,” I state loudly. Confidently.

  “What?” Her voice shocked.

  “The reason you ended up here is because we were meant to find each other, angel.”

  Her face softens at that. It may sound like a line, but it’s not. It’s the truth. From the moment I saw her I knew she was mine, knew she was meant for me, knew we were meant for each other. So to me, taking that step, moving in and sharing the same space, doesn’t seem illogical or too fast at all.

  It seems so goddamn right.

  “I believe that, too.” Her tone gentles yet again. “But that still doesn’t change the fact that even though I found you, I’m still trying to find all of me.”

  Fuck.

  “Don’t get me wrong, Rhett. You’re a surprise I couldn’t even dream of finding. And you make me feel more like me than I ever have, make me feel as though I finally found my home. But as much as I believe what you believe—that we were meant to find each other—I left my old life behind and moved here because I needed a fresh start—I needed a new me. One that doesn’t chase and cling. One who can stand on her own two feet, who doesn’t need validation from a man to feel complete. A me that I can be proud of.”

  How could I ever dispute that? Try to fi
ght it?

  I can’t and I don’t because my girl needs her time, her space, to find herself as an individual. Though I won’t be giving her much time or space from me, that’s for damn sure.

  “So even though practically every fiber of my being screams to jump head first into this with you now that we’ve gone all the way…I can’t yet. And I hope you understand that because I love you, honey. In a way I never knew existed.”

  Goddamn this girl and her heart.

  I’m so fucking twisted and tangled and all fucking in.

  In Front of Rhett’s Condo

  SHE’S AT HIS PLACE AGAIN. Again.

  Smiling, laughing, touching, fucking.

  Happy and in love. I can see it all over her face.

  And I’m here. Still alone, still waiting to ruin her for everything she took from me.

  Him.

  HE’S DONE IT.

  Completely.

  Wholeheartedly.

  Absolutely, positively, one hundred percent.

  I’m all in, can never let go, will always need him, want him, love him.

  A matter of weeks, barely two months, and I’m irrevocably in love with Rhett Shaw.

  The kind that moves mountains. Shakes the ground you walk on. Changes your world.

  The kind of love that invades your soul, strips you bare, and burrows down into your bones.

  A love so deep and true and real that I know I’ll never fall out of it.

  And I’m terrified, but feel more alive than I ever have before.

  Rhett makes all the feelings I thought I had with every other guy in my life before him seem so insignificant and small and meaningless. Because they were. Nothing compares to him, to this love.

  To us.

  The wide smile I’m sporting thinking of Rhett and the love I never thought I’d find slowly slides off my face as I walk through the door of Inked Souls.

  There he is, leaning against the front desk. And leaning up against him is some blonde I’ve never seen before. She’s covered in tattoos, her arms and legs left bare because of the navy-blue romper she’s wearing affording me the view of them.

  She looks like she’d be exactly his type. Slender, yet curvy. Stunning with a dark edge. Tattoos I’m sure he did covering her skin.

  She makes me feel inadequate, like I’m not important. Not enough.

  Like every other man has ever made me feel. Except Rhett.

  Until now.

  My stomach swirls with nausea and jealousy and a whole bunch of unease.

  Especially when I notice he isn’t pushing her away. Or talking her off. Or moving at all.

  It feels like a lifetime until he notices me standing there, staring, and when he does he startles and finally pushes her away.

  “Angel,” he greets me with his usual bright, lopsided smile. Stepping up to me and placing a kiss to my lips that I barely return. “This is Brooklyn. She interviewed for the receptionist position we have open.”

  He mentioned he and Nash were looking to add another position, someone to help with the books and keep the day-to-day stuff going so they could focus more on tattooing and designing. But I had no idea that position would be filled by a blonde bombshell who can’t keep her eyes or herself off of my man.

  When I don’t immediately reply, his smile drops, and concern etches across his features.

  “You okay, baby?” His hand lifts to cup my cheek. His thumb running along my skin as his fingers slide into my hair.

  I watch her eye our interaction as she stands to the side behind Rhett, her eyes lingering on him longer than necessary. A smug smirk lifting her mouth.

  Coming out of my daze, I find my manners even though I want to rip her eyes out of her skull. “Yeah, sure. Hi…” I back away from Rhett to step around him. Not extending my hand for a shake, but instead opting for a barely there wave. “Kennedy.”

  “Pleasure,” she replies mockingly. Looking me up and down next to Rhett. Making me feel even worse.

  I’m distant, he can tell, because when he goes to wrap an arm around my waist, I take a small step away. Indicating I’d rather not have him touch me right now. I can’t help how childish I’m being because I can’t get what I saw when I walked in out of my head.

  Clearing his throat, Rhett shoves his hands into his black shorts before addressing the blonde. I can’t even think her name right now.

  “Thanks for coming by, Brooklyn. We’ll be in touch to let you know our decision.”

  “Look forward to that call.” Her voice sultry and sugary sweet.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks when Brooklyn finally leaves.

  “Do you know her?” I hate the way I sound—wounded and jealous—but I can’t help it.

  “What?” he asks, confused.

  “That girl, do you know her? Have you done any of her tattoos?”

  His face pinches into further confusion. “Never met her before. She’s new in town and saw the ad Nash ran in the paper.”

  “So you have a thing for new girls in town then?” I’m being ridiculous. I know I am, but my heart hurts so badly right now that I can’t stop.

  “I’m not sure what you’re getting at here, angel. But if you have something you want to say, or ask, then do it. Because with these questions, it sounds a whole helluva lot like you’re accusing me of somethin’.”

  “She was touching you,” I blurt out.

  “What? No, she wasn’t.”

  “Rhett, I’m not blind. When I walked in that door, you were leaning against the front desk and she was practically leaning on you. Her hip next to yours as she faced you, leaning into your shoulder. A hand to your forearm.”

  “Christ, angel.” He goes to step toward me, but I hold up a hand. He freezes. “I didn’t even notice. I had no idea. We were ending the interview, talking about our ink, talking about—”

  “That makes it even worse!” I raise my voice for the first time, cutting him off. “It makes it even worse because you had no idea she was so close, that she was touching you. It hurts so much more because you didn’t even think of me.”

  Shock covers his face. “Not think of you? That’s bullshit, and you know it. You’re all I think about. Every damn second of every damn day.”

  “Well apparently not today!”

  “Can’t you see that I’m standing right fucking here, Kennedy? Right here. There’s nobody else. There hasn’t been anybody else since I first laid eyes on you and knew you were fucking meant for me. I don’t know what I have to do to make you see that. To make you see that I’m not stepping out on you. I’ve never done this before, angel,” he stresses. Pleading. “You have to help me out here. Cut me some slack and not think the worst every time you see a woman around me.”

  Exasperated, I lift my arms out before dropping them to my thighs. The slap echoing through the otherwise quiet shop. “How can I, Rhett, when they’re everywhere? Your clients. Swarming you at In Ruins. Eyeing you every time we go out. Interviewing for a damn job. I don’t even want to think what it’s like when I’m not around. And don’t even get me started on what it was like watching them want you when we weren’t together.”

  His face is hard and determined. But so am I.

  “And I’m not blaming you for then. We weren’t together, and I had no right to feel the way I did. But I couldn’t help it just like I can’t help it now. But now it’s worse. Like a knife to the heart every dang time I have to witness it. And walking in and seeing her leaning into you like that…”

  I shake my head, unable to continue. My heart pounding and cracking. Tears welling in my eyes.

  “Fucking hell,” he growls. Running his hands through his hair before clasping them behind his neck. Squeezing. “I may have never done this before, but you’ve got to fucking know it’s you, angel. You’re all I think about. All I care about. You’re all I fucking want. You were made for me. I love you.”

  The space between us becomes nonexistent when he steps toward me. He pulls me close. This time, I let him
. “Together. Remember? You and me. Us.”

  I don’t know why I thought I’d be able to outrun my past completely. Leave it behind me in my no-good small town. But my foolish mind and heart believed I could. Just as long as I put miles and distance between us.

  But no matter what, it will always be there haunting me. Especially if I can never learn to move on from it completely, to let it go and leave it in the past where it belongs.

  Those men not only used my body, but they damaged my heart and mind. Making me believe I’m not enough, that I’m no good, that I’ll always be cast aside. Their carelessness left me questioning and insecure and unable to trust. Clark being the final straw.

  But Rhett…he’s proven his worth and want of me over and over again. He’s never given me any reason to doubt him or his intentions. He’s always been upfront, honest, and all-in with me.

  And I need to remember that.

  “Together,” I finally repeat. Because he’s right.

  I need to keep it in the forefront of my heart and in my mind that just because these women can’t keep their hands or eyes off of him, he’s steering clear of them.

  Because he’s always been choosing me.

  And I love him. Without a shadow of a doubt. I’m madly in love with him. And I know he’s fallen just as far as me.

  He sighs, relieved. “Thank fuck, baby. I swear to you, she wasn’t even on my radar. Not even fucking close. Got lost in talking tats and ink and then you walked in. The interview hadn’t been over more than a couple minutes.”

  His hands run my back in a soothing gesture as they pull me in closer. I soak up all the warmth and comfort he has to give. Letting it ease my worried, hurting, and troubled heart with each caress.

  “You have to trust me, Kennedy. I’m not them; I’m never going to be them. I’m always going to be here, putting you first, loving you with every ounce of everything I’ve got. No one, not a single soul on earth is going to change that. I swear to you.”

  I sniffle and nod. Tears welling and rolling down my cheeks as I lay my forehead to Rhett’s chest. His hands move from my back to the back of my neck, holding me in place. His lips kissing the crown of my head as his fingers work to massage my neck.

  Shame and embarrassment start to mix with my earlier worry and jealousy, taking over. Because I can’t believe I reacted the way I did, let my past dictate my emotions and actions. Not when the man I was accusing and worrying over is Rhett.