by M. A. Ellis
Chad raised her fingers to his and kissed them before he responded. “Where have you been and what have you learned, woman?”
“Tell you later,” she said, rubbing her face against the back of his shoulder. “But don’t be surprised if there’s a strap-on involved.”
Dave laughed. Chad scrunched his brows. He’d tell her later how that would never happen.
“I like her,” Dave said. “How’d you two meet?”
Chad felt her breasts rise and knew she was taking a deep breath. Preparing to tell the tale. He decided to cut her off. Just this once. “So I’m going into work nearly a year ago. Three o’clock, same as always. And I walk past the tattoo parlor. Down from the restaurant, just like I do every day—”
“Oh boy,” Becca said in mock worry. “Maybe we should find you some popcorn, Dave.”
“And there she is. Standing at the counter, talking to the owner. I saw that long hair hanging nearly to the middle of her back. It was jet black then not red. She changes it as often as she changes her panties—”
“Hey!” Becca tried to pull her hands free, but he wouldn’t let them budge.
“She had on a pair of jeans so snug I knew she couldn’t be wearing panties.”
“So that changes the whole switching-hair-color timeline,” Dave added with a thoughtful nod.
Becca shifted her body, rubbing her breasts over his back and his balls took a sudden interest.
She moved around his side and stacked her hands on her hips. Chad loved that pose.
“And she had these killer heels on—”
“Hotter than what she’s got on now?” Dave asked. “Because I know for a fact, there are two more-reputable clubs on this street that she could stroll into in that getup and grown men would be groveling at her feet, just for a chance to touch those boots. I think a few of my guys might be members.”
“Is that an ongoing thing in your line of work, Agent Dave?” Becca asked. “The foot fetish thing. I thought it ended with J. Edgar.”
Chad liked the way they were immediately hitting it off. He had known his family would love Becca. Now that Dave had met her, he’d have to introduce her to his mom soon. She’d be thrilled that he’d finally found someone he could love.
Dave turned toward him and Chad didn’t trust his brother’s innocent smile. He pulled Becca into his arms and spun her around so her back was to his chest.
“So, nice butt, great shoes and quick witted. She’s perfect,” Dave said, giving Chad’s shoulder a little bump before he offered Becca a look of mock seriousness. “So tell me, Miss Wiley. What the hell are you doin’ with this jerk?”
“You know how it is with these tattoo chicks, bro. One way or another, they’re determined to get under your skin.”
Chapter Eight
Becca opened one eye and looked at the glowing red numbers of her bedside clock. Nine twenty-four. Unlike Chad’s bedroom of sleek furniture and light sheers that did little to block out the brightness of the day, her bedroom was dark as a cave. Heavy deep-purple silk panels covered the double sliding door and the two large windows that made up the corner. It hadn’t been the early morning light that interrupted her sleep.
Chad shifted behind her, pulling her closer into his embrace. She’d learned his habits well. He didn’t think it was time to get up yet either.
They’d had more than a dozen sleepovers before they were forced to face a few realities. While the lovemaking was awesome and the companionship filled voids they had pretended didn’t matter, periodically they needed a few days to themselves. They didn’t have a set weekday schedule, but Becca knew from Friday evening at midnight to Monday morning at ten o’clock, Chad was all hers.
Her girlfriends told her she was a colossal idiot. That she was giving him the opportunity to use those free nights to see other women. She should reel him in while she had the chance. When Becca had brought up that little thing called trust they rolled their eyes and told her she should use her ex as an example to live by. She didn’t waste her breath telling them she’d never use Vinnie as a model of anything. Ever.
The guys at the shop told her she was the coolest chick ever, the only one on the planet who understood men needed time to watch SportsCenter on their own and beat off in the shower because nothing really felt better than their fists. Becca had laughed her ass off at that statement. Then wondered if it were true…and would she get a chance to watch.
Then the female tattoo artists at the shop told her point-blank that if she fucked things up they were going to take a run at Chad themselves. No hard feelings. At least she knew where she stood.
Becca snuggled her ass against his morning erection and smiled. Their friendship segueing into a more intimate relationship had moved with a speed that was scary. She remembered one night when she was waiting for Chad at his house. Entrenched in the pages of a romantic suspense novel, she hadn’t heard the elevator. When he swaggered into the room, she’d been horrified. She hadn’t looked past the patch covering his eye to see he had made an attempt at pirate garb. One of her fantasies, not his. All she had thought was an exploding cork had possibly rendered him blind in one eye. She’d totally ruined his surprise, but sweet man that he was, he plundered her booty all the same.
She and Chad being open about their sexual desires and hard-core fantasies had refined their communication skills, which in turn strengthened their everyday life. It certainly made for a less angst-filled relationship. The trust and respect they shared rose to a higher level, one that surpassed anything Becca had dreamed of. The only thing that dwarfed it was her love for him. She exhaled, wondering how in the world she’d gotten so lucky.
“That deep sigh means you’re thinking too much,” Chad whispered. “You’re supposed to be pretending it’s still night. You’re asleep. And someone’s just crawled into your bed.”
“And he’s got a Three Bears kind of boner? The one that fits me just right?” Becca whispered back.
“Shhhh. No bestiality talk, Goldilocks.”
She laughed and stacked her palms together before slipping them under her pillow, just like every female B-movie star did before the intruder or monster or serial killer made his way into her bedroom.
Becca and Chad had never discussed a serial killer fantasy, and as far as she knew he didn’t have a pair of fake fangs stashed in his nightstand. She figured the morning intruder would probably be human. With deep-blue eyes she’d never get tired of looking into. And a rich laugh that always made her smile in return.
Chad waited so long Becca started to get drowsy again. When he yanked her arms over her head and captured her wrists she actually jumped. Fingers drifted over her hip and up her rib cage. His large, warm hand covered her bare breast. He kneaded, plumped her flesh, never touching her nipple and she shifted her hips, silently telling him she was ready for more. But she knew he could read her without prompts.
His hand drifted to her other breast, repeated the same teasing motions until her nipples were hard and aching. He grazed her tight nub with the back of his hand and Becca’s intake of breath echoed through the silent room.
Back and forth he went, using little flicks against her nipples that sent quick jolts to her pussy and firm steady pinches which sent rolls of desire through her entire body. His erection grew harder and she tried to pull her hands free, wanting nothing more than to reach behind her and stroke his thick cock while his fingers got her off.
They’d done that before, both of them stimulated each other with only their hands until they’d orgasmed together. It had been over the top and so hot, it was a wonder they hadn’t done it again.
But this time, he wasn’t releasing her. His hand drifted down her stomach and she held her breath, waiting for him to make a beeline for the thin arrow of hair that led to her already-slick folds. His fingers teased her navel, as if he knew exactly where her star tattoo was. He’d explored her naked body as if he were charting a course for new lands. He had traced every tattoo at one time or anot
her and probably had kissed them all.
Warmth permeated her torso. Becca had to get away from the heat radiating from his body or she thought she’d ignite. She slid her hips away from him so she could roll onto her back. Still, he didn’t release her arms and she arched her back, thrusting her breasts upward, aching for him to touch them. He ignored the offering.
Becca planted her feet on the mattress and raised her hips, trying to scoot lower on the bed to bring her nipples closer to his mouth but he held her firm. Without warning, his hand dove between her thighs and squeezed her engorged pussy. She ground against his palm, the pressure he’d finally exerted nearly making her come.
“I love when you do that,” she said.
“Is that really something you’d tell someone who just broke into your house?”
“Only if he had a hot body and a tongue that never gets tired,” she teased, turning her head to look into his face.
“You’re a harlot.” His words lost a lot of their bite when he offered her a wide smile. He lessened the pressure and Becca grunted her disapproval.
“Yeah. But I’m your harlot.”
“Mmmm. Don’t I know it?” He stroked the cleft of her labia, barely touching her, over and over again until she couldn’t stand the torment and opened her legs wider, trying to give him more room to explore but he kept his fingers right where they were. The wait was excruciating and Becca thrust her hips upward. He eased one finger just inside her folds. He gathered her wetness, scooping his finger upward until he reached her clit and pushed lightly against the straining nub.
They had learned he could make her come just from staying still. From letting the throbbing of her clit take her over the top. They weren’t intense climaxes. And Chad seemed to love them more than Becca. The first ripple started just below her pubic bone and radiated outward until it consumed her entire pussy. Becca pulled her hips back a fraction of an inch, in total control of when she’d come. She pushed against Chad’s finger again.
His breath tickled her ear in steady huffs. It was making him hard and she kept the motion steady. She was getting close. A few more touches.
Chad thrust his cock against her hip. It was iron hard and the urge to have him in her as quickly as possible made her stop.
“Let me go,” she moaned, giving him a moment to release her hands before she started to pull harder. “I’m not coming without you.”
“Yes you are,” he declared, his voice rough with desire. He let go of her hands and was at the bottom of the bed in less than a heartbeat. Her thighs protested as he pushed them wide. His thumbs bit into her labia and pressed the skin upward, exposing her clit to his eyes. He blew a stream of cool air over her clit, cooling the flesh but making it ache all the more.
Her mind clouded with desire, waiting for him to taste her. Wetness dripped from her pussy and Becca moaned when his tongue flattened against her sensitive skin. He licked her juices away with one broad upward stroke. He reached her clit and held it there, letting her pulse against the soft, wet heat of his mouth. He held her on the brink and she glanced down and saw him staring. He eased his head back slowly until he was still touching her but just with the tip of his tongue and her legs began to tremble. He’d learned exactly what she liked. He flicked his tongue against her quickly until she was panting.
“I thought you were going to make me come,” she groaned.
“Trying to goad me into finishing you off before I’m ready?”
He pulled away and rose up on his knees, leaving Becca unfulfilled. She saw the fierce set of his jaw then glanced down at his cock. It twitched against his abs and she tried to hide her smile. She really wasn’t in a pleading mood. And Chad looked more than ready.
“You know there are other uses for that gorgeous mouth than you smirking at me.” He plopped down onto his back. “Get on top.”
Becca rolled to her side and ran the tip of her finger around his cock head. “Don’t you want me to—”
“Just get your ass up here,” he ordered. She threw a leg over him and grabbed his cock, milking his flesh. She loved this position, not because it forced him deeper, but because she knew Chad loved the view.
She wiggled his broad cock head between her inner lips, slowly easing onto his shaft. He filled her and her inner muscles clenched around his cock. He reached around her and massaged her ass. His fingers gripped her cheeks and pulled them apart as he pressed her downward until their bodies were meshed. One hand moved inward and a finger rimmed her anus, tickling the puckered flesh until she wanted to beg him to press deeper.
Becca moaned and rocked her hips, grinding her clit against him as he lifted his hips beneath her. She tilted her pelvis, knowing the little shift of position would bring her quickly toward orgasm, wondering if he was getting near.
His fingers bit into the flesh at her hip and Becca lost her pace, crying out her frustration. In one smooth move Chad rolled them over, repositioning their still-joined bodies. He dropped his elbows to the mattress and took full control, thrusting quick and shallow.
The rhythm, the precise depth, both sent Becca careening over the edge. She cried out her release, her inner muscles pulsating against the pleasure. His breathing quickened and two strokes later his short, loud grunts echoed through the room. He thrust into her again and held himself still. Then thrust once more and collapsed on top of her.
She stroked his damp back, the outer curve of his hip and it was his turn to let out a deep sigh.
“You drive me crazy, Becca. What kind of man can’t finish the fantasies he dreams up?”
“You always finish the ones that are yours. It’s mine you suck at,” she teased, holding him tighter when he tried to move.
“So now you’re a complainer?” He flexed his glutes and his cock jumped inside her. “How do I punish that?”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something. But just so you know, I found this really kickass wooden spoon at Target that’s the size of my fist. They say it’s for being able to stir huge stock pots but who knows.”
Chad snorted, then pushed himself up on his hands. “In a second, I’m going to have to pull out.”
Their gazes locked and an eerie hush fell over her bedroom as they both realized what they’d forgotten. He was a huge proponent of safe sex. For him to go in bare was irresponsible. And for her not to realize it before it had happened was just as bad. But she wasn’t about to panic.
“It’s okay. You know I’m on birth control. It’ll be fine.”
He eased his hips back and withdrew quickly before rolling back against the pillows and drawing her into his embrace. “You sure?”
“I am. But next time it’s back to the added protection. I’m a fan of kids. I just like it when they go home at night,” she joked. “I’d like some of my own. Just not right now.”
“I can understand that,” he said. “When Dave’s son died, I figured that was it for me. To go through that kind of pain? I don’t know how he and Diane managed it.” His fingers wrapped around a length of her red hair. He twisted it then let it fall into a loose ringlet. She could tell he had something he wanted to say.
“And…?”
“And now I’m reevaluating.”
“Even after having met my nephews?” she teased, turning so she could reach his stubbled jaw. She planted a kiss on the rough skin.
He smiled at her. “Even after meeting the pint-sized conquerors, yes.”
He pressed his lips against her in a slow kiss, one that warmed her all the way to her heart. He shifted his arms and leaned back, propping his hands behind his head. She sighed, and reached up, running her fingers along the nearly unperceivable outline of his Celtic knot.
“I want to hit this with some color soon. So you’ll be able to see it in the daytime as well.”
“Sounds good, since we won’t be hitting the raves anytime soon so I can see how it looks in motion.”
“We don’t need to rave,” she said, rolling to the side of the bed.
“What are you doing?” he asked. His hand landed on the mattress with a thump, just missing her as she quickly stood up.
Becca hurried to her closet, wondering why she hadn’t thought of this sooner. She walked back to the bed with an old-fashioned clip-on lamp. She reached down and plugged it into an outlet by the bed and hooked it onto the headboard.
“You ready for this?” she asked, finger on the switch.
“I’m not sure,” he replied.
She turned it on and the glow was amazing.
“You have a black light in your closet for what purpose?” Chad questioned, sitting up straighter.
“You’re not the only one who likes to be a voyeur. Sometimes there’s peace in watching yourself.”
She rotated the head of the light and pointed it at his arm. “See how awesome it looks.”
He looked at his tattoo and smiled. When he looked back at her, he sucked in his breath.
“Holy fuck, Becca,” he exclaimed.
It had been awhile since she had looked at herself naked in a mirror, had studied the areas of her torso that glowed in the black light. From left shoulder to opposite hip, her mentor had done a marvelous job. She should go back and visit him more often. But now he had another apprentice, another dark-haired girl that he could share his stories and his experience with.
“It’s like the circle of life, isn’t it?” Chad asked. He reached out a finger and traced the outline of the winged dragon that arced over the top of her left breast before swooping down into the lush green backdrop of a tiger that was crouching in a bed of roses stalking whatever came next. “In a Sailor Jerry sort of way.”
Becca laughed. Proof of his humor and that he paid attention when she talked about the history behind her profession. Only the animals had the UV undertone and she wondered why she hadn’t shown him this earlier. His fingers were barely touching the designs, teasing her while clearly paying homage to the workmanship.
“I hate to think about that tiger jumping up and snatching one of those swallows out of the air. Or am I supposed to believe he’s going to jump through that lace they’re holding up and take out the mermaid?” he asked, following the progression of the tattoos until he was running his fingers over the scales of the mermaid’s double tails.
