by J. M. Stone
“Mmmhmmm…” I murmured, getting lost in the small, biting kisses he was dotting down my jawline and throat.
Suddenly, a distinct chewing noise broke through my lust-induced stupor. I froze, shoving Brandon back and sitting up, frantically looking around for Grady. I groaned out, “Oh, no, Grady! Bad boy!”
The little black puppy was sitting at the end of the bed, my living room tv remote clutched between his paws, teeth gnawing diligently on the corner. The power button kept lighting up red with every movement of his jaw, like a little evil eye winking and taunting me.
I heard muffled laughter and jerked my head around to see Brandon practically smothering himself in the pillow so I wouldn’t hear him laughing. I smacked his naked shoulder, grimacing when it stung my hand, and then glared at him when he sat up and laughed outright.
“This is funny to you?” I huffed at him as I moved slowly to the end of the bed, intent on trying to salvage my remote.
“Uh, yeah. It is,” he replied succinctly. “Payback for you laughing when he ball-tagged me earlier.”
I reached out slowly…creeping my fingers closer and closer to the dog, stopping, my hand hanging in mid-air when Grady froze, watching me closely out of the corner of his eye. “Good boy,” I cooed sweetly. “Give Auntie Chloe the remote, Grady. Him’s a good baby, yes him is…” I used baby talk, why? I don’t know, maybe because he’s a cute little baby puppy and that’s what you do to babies, but it seemed to be working.
Or not. His tail was wagging now, tiny little circles on the blanket, but then he moved. His furry rear end shot up in the air, waggling back and forth while his front legs stayed flat, holding the remote tightly with paws and teeth. I could see it in his eyes, see him gather himself to bolt, and I took a chance, lunging forward to try to grab him before he got away. Instead, I grabbed empty air as I launched myself off the end of the bed to flop less than gracefully face first on the floor with a deep ‘oompf’.
Fucking hell, this is the second time I’ve ended up on the floor because of a damned dog! I pushed up off the floor, scowled at Brandon who was laughing his ass off on the bed, still, and took off after the dog, yelling for him to come.
I chased the little black furball around the living room and through the kitchen before he headed back down the hallway to the bedroom, remote still clenched in his jaws, and jumped onto the bed, finally dropping it into Brandon’s outstretched hand.
I skidded to a halt in the doorway just in time to see this, scowling at Brandon’s face-splitting grin. I walked to the bed and scooped up the pup, whispering ‘traitor’ in his ear as I sat down.
Brandon stretched and yawned behind me, still grinning as he reached out and pulled me back against him. We cuddled like that for a moment, the three of us, until the puppy wiggled to be let down. I held him a little tighter to me and sat back up.
“Well, I guess I’m up for the day,” I said as I got off the bed. “I’m gonna take him outside real quick. Want some coffee?” I asked Brandon.
He hadn’t moved from the bed, just laid there on his back, arms outspread, towel dangerously loose around his hips. He yawned and scratched at his belly lazily. “Sure, but since I can’t get you back in bed with me, I’ll just get up with you.”
“Okay.” I turned away to hide the gigantic grin that lit up my face at his words, those crazy ass butterflies turning into a tornado inside me as my heart flipped. No, he didn’t say anything special, or cutesy, or even hot for that matter. But he admitted that he wanted me again and that was huge given the fact that he’d used the ‘friend’ speech on me not too long ago.
I let Grady out into the backyard, grateful that it was completely fenced in, and let him run wild while I made a couple cups of coffee. I took them out onto the back porch with me and sat, cradling my cup in my hands as I watched the puppy chase a bird along the fence line.
Brandon came out and sat beside me, having pulled on a pair of jeans and nothing else. Bare chested and bare foot…holy hell, I wanted nothing more than to kneel at the altar of Sinfully Sexy Ass Men and thank the Chief of Staff for such a glorious bounty of hotness. We drank our coffee in the sunlight, watching the gamboling pup with amusement as he chased anything that moved, or even looked like it would move, including his tail.
After a while, Brandon stood and stretched, kissing me on the head as he took his empty cup inside. I followed him, calling for Grady and bringing him inside with me. I dug out some of his toys and he pounced on them delightedly, falling for the distraction just like I’d hoped.
Brandon had disappeared down the hallway again, I’m assuming to get dressed. “You have a lot of appointments today?” I called to him.
He walked into the living room where I was standing, still pulling his shirt over his head so his words were muffled at first. “Yeah, I have quite a few, and of course we take walk-ins if we can. Why?”
I shrugged. “No real reason, I’ve just been actually contemplating getting another tattoo.”
His eyebrows rose and he gave me a quizzical look. “Really? That’d be…wait, another? You said another tattoo?” he asked.
I nodded and then regretted mentioning it to him as he approached me playfully, hands going to the tie of my robe and pulling. He was grinning and waggling his eyebrows at me, but I couldn’t help the panic that bubbled up. I was naked under my robe and it was pure daylight! I forced a laugh and slapped his hands away, hoping to put him off without offending him, or making him think I was hiding something from him. Which I was, but…
He pulled his hands back and his face closed up, eyes going cloudy and dark. He shut me out as I watched, all playfulness gone, the tender man of last night a memory.
I swallowed hard, my heart sinking to the floor. I felt like an asshole, but there was just too much that no one knew and things about me that I wasn’t ready to share, not even with the man I was falling for. And crap on a cracker, I was falling for him hard.
“Ummm…so maybe I could set something up with you? Would you tattoo me?” I asked, forcing a light tone and trying to salvage any tiny little piece of the morning I could.
He nodded sharply and replied, “Yeah. Just let me know when you’re ready. I’ll see you later, I’ve gotta get to the shop.” He turned on his heel and within moments, his boots were on, keys in hand, and he was gone.
I sank onto the couch, a sick feeling in my stomach. And that feeling was fear that I’d just fucked things up before they’d even had a chance to really get going.
My phone rang about twenty minutes later. I’d missed it by the time I got back to the bedroom where it was still plugged into my charger, even though I’d run like mad, hoping it was Brandon. I picked it up to see who it was and couldn’t help the sigh of disappointment that escaped as I noticed it was Emma who’d called.
I walked back out to the living room and sat, watching Grady play with his toys on the carpet while I called her back.
She answered without preamble, asking, “What the hell did you do to Brandon?”
“He-uh-whuh…Ex-Excuse me?” I stuttered, taken aback by her no-nonsense, but still friendly tone.
“He was at your house last night, he said he was just gonna stay there for a while since Luke and I like to play slap and tickle a little too much, and now he comes stomping in this morning and about bites my head off when I mention your name. So, again, what the hell did you do to him?” she asked briskly.
I finally found my voice. “I didn’t do anything, Emma…” I said, hesitantly. Okay, so that was a little fib, but it’s not like I could tell her, ‘oh, I just pissed him off because I wouldn’t let him see me naked after he fucked the living daylights out of me all night long,’ you know?
She snorted. “Yeah, and I’m the friggin’ Pope.” After a lengthy sigh, she said, wryly, “Why don’t you come down here and talk to him, then? Fix whatever might be wrong because, honey, he’s in a piss poor mood and I’m pregnant. That’s a bad combination.”
“I can’t com
e down there. Allie dumped Grady at my house this morning in a drive-by-drop-off on her way to Cincinnati with Jacks. He woke me up standing on my chest.”
Emma was quiet for a moment. “She did what?” she asked, laughing. “That sneaky little bitch. She didn’t go to Cincinnati with Jacks. She’s at home!”
“What do you mean, she’s at home?” I asked her, incredulously.
Emma’s laughter rang out through the phone, the clear, gleeful sound making me smile.
“Grady got ahold of two of Jackson’s shoes and chewed them up. And not of the same pair, either! He was threatening to do bad things to the poor little thing and Allie was so worried she must have snuck him out to your house away from Jacks!” Emma was laughing harder now.
“Oh, my God…she- wait, what? Jackson was threatening to do bad things? Like what?” I was genuinely taken aback by that because I knew my brother and he’d never hurt a hair on an animal’s head, let alone his Grady. He loves that dog! “He wouldn’t hurt Grady!”
“Allie said he threatened to…” she dropped her voice and whispered in mock fear/affront, “make him an outside dog!”
Holding back a giggle, I played along, “No! He didn’t! Jackson would never say those evil words…tell me it isn’t so!”
Emma busted out laughing and I joined in, sobering shortly after when she asked if I was coming down to the shop.
I sighed. “I really can’t Emma. I don’t want to leave Grady here alone in the house because Allie didn’t drop his crate off.”
She quickly waved away my excuse when she said, “Just bring him with you. Call when you get here and I’ll just run him home. I have to go let DJ out anyway, and pick up lunch for the guys so it all works out. Just get here and fix him!”
“Fine,” I said begrudgingly.
We hung up and I gathered all of Grady’s things, piling both of us into the car and heading downtown to Skin Deep, dread building in the pit of my stomach with every mile.
Chapter 8
Fifteen minutes later, Emma was gone, taking the wiggling little puppy from me with a jaunty wave and a casual, ‘Good luck,’ thrown over her shoulder as she left without a backwards glance.
The dread was still hanging heavy in my belly, and I had to force myself to walk into the shop, flinching when the first face I saw darkened in a scowl immediately.
“Hey.” It came out timid but not shaky, thank God. He jerked his head at me in acknowledgement but didn’t speak.
On a sigh, I crossed the floor to the counter where he was sitting. “Can we talk for a minute, Brandon? Please?”
He shrugged his shoulder at me and waved a hand as if to say, ‘go ahead.’
“Look. I’m sorry about this morning, but there’s just things…I just don’t…I have scars.”
It took me a second to get it out, but after a faltering start, the words tripped off my tongue and dropped like a bomb into the silence stretched out between us. I squeezed my eyes tightly closed, not wanting to see his face, not even breathing as I waited for his response.
When the silence continued unbroken, I cracked one eye open and peeked at him. He was sitting, stunned, on the stool on the opposite side of the counter. In the distance, I heard the faint buzz of a tattoo machine start up, but he still didn’t move.
“Brandon,” I started.
He stopped me. “I don’t care about any scars, Chloe.” His words were low, but sharp, like a velvet wrapped razor. “I meant what I said. You’re beautiful to me, just the way you are. I can’t…he hurt you…that bad? He hurt you worse than you were when you showed up here?”
I just stared at him, unable to form the words for a response. I finally settled on saying, “I really don’t want to get into it here, okay? I’m not really ready to talk about it, Brandon. There’s so much that I’ve kept to myself and I…you just have to give me time.” A small, incredulous laugh escaped my lips on a breath. “I don’t even know what we’re doing! Are we having a thing? Are we an item, is it a fling, are you going to change your mind again tomorrow?”
He blew out a frustrated, ragged breath and answered, “I told you last night that you needed to tell me if you didn’t want to cross that line, Chloe. But we crossed that line and there’s no going back, damnit!” He slapped his hand down on the counter and then shrugged sharply. “I don’t know what to call this, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I slept with my brother’s best friend’s little sister, who also happens to be one of my closest friends, too. But I can’t deny that something has changed between us and I’m still not sure I want it to! You make me feel things that I’m not supposed to feel, at least not with you, and it’s driving me insane!”
My breath came in sharply, the pain immediate and piercing as his words echoed in the suddenly deafening silence of the studio. I stood, frozen and silent, eyes wide and blinking as I stared at Brandon in shock.
A throat clearing behind Brandon drew my gaze and I flinched when I saw Luke, shifting uneasily from foot to foot. “Uh…maybe this conversation should be done somewhere else?” He looked pained as he said the words and he was clearly uncomfortable.
That spurred me to action. I nodded once at him, ignored Brandon, and spun on my heel, practically running for my car. I got in, started it up, and peeled out of the parking lot, intent on nothing more than putting as much distance between myself, Skin Deep, and the gorgeous men inside it as possible.
I drove on autopilot, having no destination in mind, no plan in mind, nothing. I just knew I didn’t want to go home, didn’t want to go anywhere near anyone I knew. I found myself crossing the Ohio river into Kentucky, but still kept going until I saw the water tower proudly stating, ‘Florence Y’all’, and took the nearest exit, pulling into the first gas station I saw.
I sat there for a minute and then, taking a moment to be a little bit responsible, checked my gas gauge to see if I should fill up while I was stopped. Noticing that I was at almost a quarter of a tank, I filled up my tank, and then went inside and grabbed a couple bottles of water, a couple candy bars, and a Slim Jim.
Getting back in my car, I headed back to the interstate, but I couldn’t bring myself to take the ramp for 75 North, which would take me back to Ohio. Instead, I stayed off the highway and turned into the parking lot of a hotel.
Half an hour later found me safely ensconced in a room, curtains drawn, sitting against the headboard in the dim bedside lamplight. I’d finally turned my phone off, unwilling to hear it ring or chime with another text one more time. It’d been going off since I’d left the shop, but I didn’t want to talk to anyone.
No, I was having a pity party for myself. One where I called myself a dumbass about a million times over for even thinking that things could be different with Brandon. For falling in love so recklessly after just one fucking kiss. If I was being honest with myself, I could admit that there’d always been that little part of me in the very, way back, teeny, tiny corner of my mind that had appreciated him as the fine ass male specimen he was…but I’d never had the urge to act on it. Until that drunken night when I let my lips get me in trouble.
And where did it land me? Running away like a scared little bitch because someone said something that hurt.
I thumped my head back against the headboard in disgust at myself. I was probably overreacting a little, but damnit, it hurt! It hurt to hear him say that he wasn’t sure he even wanted things to change and one thing I never thought Brandon would be was wishy-washy. He ran hot and cold and changed his mind more than a whore dropped her panties and it was driving me nuts.
Yeah, I get the fact that he was probably just as confused as I was about this whole thing, but Jesus! I wasn’t the only one in the bed last night, and he specifically said he didn’t want to fight it anymore. So what the hell gives, man?
I closed my eyes against the tears of pain and frustration welling up, not bothering to wipe them away as I cried myself to sleep, alone in a hotel room in Kentucky.
“Are you
okay, honey?”
What? I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, confused by the sweet, caring tone of his voice. He sounded like the old Greg…the one I fell in love with. My head felt like it was about to explode and grogginess permeated every inch of it, making me aware that I must have passed out. Again.
Suddenly, blazing pain shot through my cheek as Greg’s hand connected with the already bruised skin. “Open your eyes, bitch! You watch everything and I’ll untie you and let you make us some dinner. You close them, just once, and you’ll fucking regret it. I promise. So open up!”
I complied, knowing that it would only make it worse if I refused his order. I blinked in the kitchen light, fear trickling down my spine as I realized he’d tied me to a kitchen chair beside the table. My heart sank as my eyes found him. This was going to be a bad night.
He was smiling at me, but it was an evil, ugly grin. His arm was slung around the neck of a woman bursting out of her clothes, leaving little to the imagination. Her makeup was heavy and dark, making her look older than I imagined she was, a little trashy, and a little sexy in a hardened, edgy kind of way.
He turned to her and said, conversationally, “Amber, this is the poor little rat I told you about. See how pathetic she is? Can’t even be where she’s supposed to be when she’s supposed to be there. I swear, I spent so much time training her to be the perfect little woman to keep my home and this is the thanks I get. But see how cute it is when she thinks I’m going to actually be nice to her? Stupid little cunt. She can just sit there like the pussy little bitch she is and watch our fun, then, huh, Tina?” Greg’s voice was gleeful, almost childlike with giddiness and I knew he was high on something. He shook his head as his companion laughed, sneering at me as she ran her hand up Greg’s chest.
She snarled and corrected him. “Amber!” before she continued. “So, what do you need me for then, Greggy-baby, if you’ve got her here waiting on you?” she pouted in a creepy little girl voice, walking her fingers up his chest and back down over the placket of his jeans.
