Significance (Artistic Pricks Ink)

by Cat Mason

  I listen to his words because Mitch never tells me how rough things get when he’s on a deployment. He says he refuses to bring it home with him, that he doesn’t want to taint what he has here with me. No matter what he says, I know he can’t possibly lay it down and leave it as easily as he claims, it’s a part of him. All I can do is give him space when he needs it and be there if he decides to talk.

  Like he is now.

  Burying his face in my hair, Mitch holds me to him like a lifeline. Placing my hand over his anchor tattoo, I feel his heart beating rapidly. I look up and instantly my heart breaks at the pained expression on his face, the fear in his eyes. I have never mentioned leaving him, but the look on his face tells me that the thought is very real in his mind.

  “You’re what holds me together. I never thought anything could hurt as much as when Big Dick died and left Luke and me to run a shop without him. I couldn’t lay ink or even hold my gun for over two fuckin’ years, Beck. I couldn’t hear the buzzing of the gun or even be in the shop because the fact that he’d never walk in there again hurt so fuckin’ much I couldn’t take it. You changed so much when you came into my life. You gave me things I had no idea I was missin’. The thought of goin’ back to a day before you existed here—” he covers my hand with his over his heart “—twists me the fuck up.”

  Hearing him mention the man he considered a father rips at my heart even more. Big Dick was the only man Mitch ever looked up to in that way and losing him is what had Mitch running to enlist just to get out of Vegas. It was his attempt at running away from the pain. In five years, I can count on one hand the amount of times Mitch has spoken of Big Dick. Just the man’s name stops me in my tracks every time it leaves his lips.

  Pulling free of his grip, I cup his face in my hands and stare up into his brown eyes. “I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper, pushing up on my toes to brush my lips over his. “You and me, Taylor, forever or bust.”

  Then his mouth is on mine and all my thoughts are shattered by the feel of his body pressing mine into the tile. His erection presses into me, making it very clear that I’ll be late for work today.

  Breaking the kiss, Mitch spins me, sandwiching me between him and the tile. Grinding his cock into my ass, he bites down on my earlobe. I gasp, slapping my hands on the tile in front of me to keep from hitting my face.

  “Need to feel you,” he says, and just as quickly, I am spun around to face him again.

  The words are simple, but the weight behind the four words never needs to be explained. Mitch bared himself to me and now he needs to get lost in the connection we have. I could never deny him that.

  Urging my legs around his waist, Mitch lifts me—gripping my ass with his hands— and slams into me hard and fast. Crushing his mouth to mine, he swallows the cry of both pain and pleasure that leaves my lips as he pistons in and out of me like a machine.

  A loud banging along with someone lying on the fucking doorbell echoes from the other end of the house, making me jump in his arms. Breaking the kiss, I steady myself by gripping his shoulders with my hands. “Mitch, it’s the door.”

  He growls low in his throat. The moment I think he is going to stop so that we can get dressed and see who is beating our door down so early in the morning, he flexes his fingers into my ass and presses his forehead to mine. “Trust me on this, unless the goddamn building is on fire, you’re not leavin’ this shower ‘til I’ve fucked you so hard you feel where I’ve been all day.”

  I don’t say a word—I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Mitch’s hips roll back, his ass bumping the shower door, causing it to fly open. Water sprays onto the bathmat and the floor as his cock nearly slips from me completely before ramming back inside. His eyes are locked on mine and I can’t look away. My breath comes out ragged and I try to focus on one thing but can’t. Everything hits me at once; the doorbell and banging are lost to the sounds of my cries as I get lost in the rhythm of our bodies until my orgasm begins hitting me full force.

  Mitch doesn’t let up. He slams his mouth to mine continuing his relentless assault, effectively swallowing every noise I make until he stills, finding his release.

  “Becky, we’re gonna be late!” Maddie shouts, before the door slams into the wall. Her petite frame comes into view, her blue eyes going wide as she takes in Mitch’s ass and me wrapped around him. “Oh my god, my eyes!” she screams, covering her face with both hands.

  “Not done here, Madison,” Mitch barks, I can feel my face flaming with embarrassment.

  “I’ll just be in the… I mean I’ll wait in the…” Maddie stammers, turning around in the doorway. “Oh for fuck’s sake, I’ll be anywhere but in here.”

  Once she is gone, Mitch settles me on my feet. “We need to take her key back.”

  Laughing, I turn and grab the soap and adjust the water, making it warmer before I begin to lather the soap and wash off before I’m late for my first appointment of the day.

  Chapter Five

  Mitch

  After I jump out of the shower, I pull on some jeans and head into the kitchen to make some coffee to save Becky some time. “Mornin’, Mads,” I say, passing her to get to the coffee pot.

  Slumping into the chair, she rolls her eyes at me. “It was…”

  Opening the lid on the coffee maker, I check to make sure Becky filled it last night before pressing the start button. Turning to face her, I grin and lean against the counter. “You want coffee?” I ask, studying her as she types furiously into her phone.

  “Thanks,” she replies, not bothering to look up at me.

  “Morning,” Becky says, walking into the kitchen, a big smile on her face.

  “I can’t handle all the happiness this early in the morning. It’s not even noon and here you two are, about to break out in song at the top of a fuckin’ mountain like a damn musical when all I need to do is not be late for work again,” Maddie mutters looking up at Becky. “It’s already—” She stops, her eyes going straight to the ring on Becky’s finger. “Oh my God!” she squeals, leaping to her feet. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this!”

  Maddie is on Becky in two seconds flat. Grabbing her hand, she holds it up to the light, examining the ring. Her eyes go from the ring, to Becky’s face, to mine and back again. “Sorry, Mad, I didn’t sell tickets and shit, I was more worried about makin’ sure she said yes,” I say, arching a brow.

  “Oh, bullshit.” Maddie waves me off. “As if she’d ever say no to you.”

  “Can I have my hand back now?” Becky asks, swatting her away. “I need coffee.”

  Grabbing two of the travel mugs from the cabinet, I fill each of them before splashing in some creamer from the fridge and securing the lids. “Thank you, baby,” Becky says, pressing her lips to mine. “I’ll see you later.”

  I nod my reply as she takes her mug and walks past me, her ass perfectly encased in the black shorts she wears with her uniform shirt has me ready to tell Maddie to fuck off and drag my girl back into the bedroom for round two.

  “You’re lucky I like you, Mitch,” Maddie says, grabbing her mug. She winks as she shoves me, her face softening. “I’m so happy for you two,” she gushes. “I never got to plan my wedding. You guys were deployed so fast, we barely made it to the courthouse. I became Mrs. Tyler Sheppard without a dress, flowers, or even my family there.” I can see the sadness in her eyes at the thought of not being able to share that day with anyone other than Becky and me. She shakes her head just as Becky turns in the doorway and looks at us.

  “Are we going to work?” Beck laughs. “Or are we planning a courthouse run?”

  “You’ll get married in a courthouse over my dead body,” Maddie says, scowling at her. “Every single detail of this wedding will be perfect. I need a budget, a date, and a guest list immediately so I can start planning.” Grabbing her phone, she begins typing away, rambling on and on about everything we need to be doing. “There’s so much to do and so little time to do it.” She follows Becky out,
going on and on about color schemes and dress fittings.

  Pouring the last of the coffee into a mug for myself, I head out of the kitchen and flip on the television. Bypassing the news completely, I prop my feet on the coffee table and stop on ESPN’s highlights of the March Madness games from the last few days while I figure out what to do with my free time today.

  Free time. It’s something that I have never been good with having. That is the great thing about the Navy. For the most part, they keep me occupied. When I have nothing to busy myself with, I tend to get into trouble and lose myself. My goal in life is to stay busy and focused on the task at hand.

  When I come home from a deployment, the time between stepping off the bus and the time before my next assignment are always a struggle. I don’t know what to do with myself when the hours of the day aren’t scheduled for me.

  Downing the last of the coffee from my cup, I grab my cell from the table where it lies charging and dial Sheppard.

  “Took you at least twenty minutes longer than I thought it would, motherfucker,” he says, not bothering to say hello. “I thought you were nappin’.”

  “Nah, just wanted to give you time to catch up on your soap operas and shit.”

  “Fuck you, Taylor,” he says with a laugh.

  “Nah, I’m all set.”

  “I know.” He chuckles into the phone. “I got the Maddie real-time play-by-play on the whole morning. Congrats, man.”

  “Thanks,” I reply. The show ends, the credits run along with announcing who plays tonight, but all I can think about is how I am sitting still. The pale blue living room feels like it’s ten sizes too small and my mind is racing with a million different things I could or should be doing.

  “Court in fifteen? I’m gonna go crazy if I don’t get the fuck out of this apartment and do something.”

  “You’re on,” I say, hanging up the phone, relieved that I am not the only one who feels this way.

  Shutting off the television, I jump up and change into a pair of red basketball shorts. Shoving into my sneakers, I grab my bag from the closet and a couple bottles of water from the fridge before heading out the door to the fenced in basketball court behind our apartment complex, determined to burn off some energy and have a few laughs.

  The minute I step inside the fence and drop my bag, I hear Sheppard talking shit. “I hope you wore your big girl panties and stopped by the ATM, Taylor. I plan to wipe the court with your ass then make you buy me beers,” he shouts, bouncing the ball before taking a shot from the free throw line. The ball slams off the backboard before bouncing to the ground and rolling toward me.

  Shaking my head, I grab the ball and laugh. “Put up or shut up, asshole, you’ve never beaten me,” I toss out.

  Dribbling the ball, I head straight for him without waiting for his answer. Shep is ready, too. Meeting me head on, he attempts to block me, but fails miserably. When he goes for my right, I spin on my heel. My elbow goes up, blocking him when he rushes my back. He pushes, he shoves, but he gets back just as good as he gives. After playing ball with Tyler Sheppard for years, I’ve got him figured out. I would pick him in a game of two-on-two any day, but the man can’t sink a three-pointer no matter how many times he tries.

  That’s where he loses to me, every single time.

  I let Shep push me back to the line, watching his face. With every bump of his body into mine and every shove, his arrogant grin only gets wider. The farther he gets me away from the hoop, the cockier he gets. He thinks he has me; he always thinks he has me. Big mistake. “What’s the matter, Taylor?” he asks, holding out his arms defensively. “Sink the fuckin’ ball.”

  “Tryin’ to keep it interesting,” I say before letting the ball fly, I don’t even look at the net as it swishes through. “That’s three to zip. We goin’ to ten?”

  “’Til our legs give out,” he counters, running to grab the ball and spin it on his index finger.

  “That fuckin’ trick sure is pretty.” Swiping the ball, I dribble up the court. Jumping, I slam the ball in and grab the rim, hanging for a second before dropping to the asphalt. “Pretty doesn’t help you win.”

  “You two playin’ ball or talkin’ shit?”

  Both of us turn and see Micah, a neighbor kid that has been living in the apartment down from Shep and Maddie since before I moved in, taunting us from just outside the gates. He is damn near as tall as me now, nothing like the scrawny kid that I taught to sink a free throw nearly five years ago. His black hair mostly hidden under the Navy cap I gave him years ago is a shaggy mess that no doubt flops into his face and curls over his collar. “How about you run home to Mommy, kid. Isn’t it nap time?”

  Micah shakes his head. I can’t help laughing at his smart-ass attitude. “That foot you’ve grown since I last saw you make ya any better with a ball?” I ask, stepping toward him.

  Ripping off his cap, he steps inside and tosses it to the bench before ripping his shirt over his head. “How about we find out?” he asks, holding out both arms in challenge.

  “You’re on, kid.” Shep steps up behind me and claps me on the back. “Taylor, you just lucked out. Today your ass has been spared of a Sheppard-style ass beatin’. Tomorrow, though, is a-whole-nother day.” Scooping up the ball, he flings it at the kid. “I’ll even give ya the advantage. Take the start.”

  Without even looking at the ball, he flings it back to Tyler with a laugh. “Nah, you take it out,” Micah replies, stepping up toe-to-toe with us as he waves in his friend to join the game. “This way you’ll get your hands on the ball once before it’s time to take your fiber, old man.”

  A confident grin plays across his face, and instantly I see me as a kid. A confident bastard, ready and willing to take on the world and say “fuck you” to anyone who challenged me. The kid has balls; I’ve always known that. He will need them when the real world comes to slap him in the face.

  It’s inevitable. As a kid, we get tucked in by our parents and read bedtime stories about how if we believe enough, anything is possible. We get sucked into the lie that nothing bad can ever happen to us because they are there to protect us.

  As much as I know my mother loves me and that she would gladly die to take away any hurt I have experienced in my life, she can’t. It’s the cold hard reality of life. We are given our hand and have to do the best with it. We can change our path and do whatever we want with our free will, but no matter how hard we try, we will be faced with pain and loss.

  Stepping closer to me, he grins and slaps my arm. “Missed you. Glad you’re home, man.”

  “Thanks,” I say, just as Shep bounces the ball. Before it hits the ground twice, Micah has it and is shoving past him.

  “Just so you know, school is in session and I play prison rules.” Micah laughs, bringing an elbow up defensively, nailing Shep in the ribs. “Loser buyin’ beers?”

  Micah’s friend is on me, bouncing around like a fucking jacked-up energizer bunny in an attempt to keep me from the ball. When he stumbles, I charge past him, heading straight for Shep just as Micah nails him in the ribs again. “Yeah, sure,” I say, shoving him and stealing the ball. Dribbling, I stop just short of the line and take my shot. It hits the backboard before swishing through the net and I turn to him and grin. “In about three years.”

  Micah flips me the bird while Shep is bent at the waist, his hand clutching his ribs. “Great teamwork,” Sheppard says, holding up his other hand for a high-five.

  “Next game, it’s me and you,” I say, scooping up the ball and tossing it to Micah. “You been takin’ care of your momma?” I ask him, knowing that it’s just him and his mother, Diya, and she works two jobs just to make ends meet.

  He nods. “A man’s only as good as how he treats the women in his heart, right, Mitch?” he asks, repeating the words I’ve said to him a hundred time over the years. “I’m nervous about goin’ off to college next semester and leavin’ her here alone. She’s killin’ herself with the hours she’s workin’. I got a basket
ball scholarship to Duke. It’s a full ride for a free education that will make things a fuck-of-a-lot easier around here for her. One day, I can buy her a house and a car that isn’t a piece of shit. It’s my turn to take care of her because she has always taken care of me.”

  “Congrats, all that practice paid off,” I say clapping him on the back. “Proud of you, kid. Now, let’s see if you’ve got what it takes to keep me from sinkin’ another.”

  “You’ve been in my corner for so long, Mitch. This is all because I’ve had Ma, Becky, and you to cheer me on.” I don’t have time to react to the gratitude in his voice at my encouragement over the years. Stubborn ass kid won’t have any of that shit anyway. Pushing by me, he body checks me hard. “Let me know if I’m too hard on ya,” he says with a cocky grin.

  Shoving him back, I block when he tries to shoot. “Let me know when I need to stop goin’ easy on ya,” I say, stealing the ball and passing it to Shep before rushing Micah when he tries to get by me.

  I get lost in the fun of the game. By the time we’re done, Shep is wheezing and clutching his ribs like he’s been beaten and Micah’s friend isn’t much better. Bumping my fist, Micah tells me he’ll catch me later and we go our separate ways up the concrete paths that lead to our doors.

  After ordering a pizza, I jump in the shower and pull on jeans and a t-shirt. Knowing that the moment the pizza guy pulls up, Tyler will be storming through the door expecting to get in on lunch, I pull out two beers from the fridge and collapse on the couch feeling pretty damn good.

  Chapter Six

  Becky

  “Have you decided on a date yet?” Maddie asks, stepping up beside me while I rinse the soap from my hands at the sink. “We don’t have long before the guys get new orders, you know.”