Tall, Tatted and Tempting 8 страница

He shows me, looking into my eyes as he signs it. I point to me and then repeat the sign. Logan nods.

The lead singer walks by us, and says softly so that I can hear, but Logan can’t see his lips. “When he’s done with you, give me a call, sweetheart,” he says.

Abby gasps. He looks over at her and winks and she flips him the bird. He laughs louder, and then he leaves, taking his band mates with him.

Logan wants to talk to me, I can tell. But he won’t do it with everyone looking. “When can we go home?” I ask.

He looks around. The chairs are all put up and Ford took over with the mop. Logan claps his hands at Pete and Pete turns around. He makes the sign he just showed me for home and Pete nods. He’s still pissy but he comes with us.

I wave at Abby and she waves back. She’s lifting her purse from beneath the bar, so I think she’s about to leave, too. “Don’t be a stranger!” she yells at me. I smile back and nod. She’s nice. I like her.

We walk through the bar to the back exit, and let ourselves out. It’s after four in the morning, and I’m tired, but the cold air wraps around me, and I feel more invigorated than I have in a really long time. I just got to play with a band for hours. And I have over three hundred dollars in my pocket.

Logan takes my hand in his and looks around. The streets are dark and more than a little scary at this hour. I’m suddenly really glad I’m with these two men. They’re both built like mountains, and the tats make them look much fiercer than they are. I want to talk to Logan, but I know he can’t walk beside me and see my lips. So I stay quiet all the way to his apartment. He motions for Pete to go up the stairs, and we stand in the stairwell for a moment. He brushes back a strand of hair that’s stuck to my lip. “You really enjoyed tonight, didn’t you?” he asks as soon as Pete’s gone.

I nod, and bury my face in his chest for a moment, squealing inside with excitement. I want to bite his chest, but I lift my head and say, “Thanks so much for taking me with you.”

“What did Bone want with you?”

I shrug. “Same thing he always wants.”

“Have you ever worked for him?” He appraises me closely, his blue eyes searching my face.

“Never.” It’s true. I have never fallen that far. Although I came close more than once.

He takes my hand in his and starts up the stairs. I kind of like holding hands with him. It’s nice. He pushes me up the steps before him and I turn around to say, “Do you know this is the first time I’ve ever walked up these steps of my own free will?”

He turns me around, slaps me on the ass, and I hear him chuckle. It’s more of a murmuring sound, but it’s all Logan and it warms my heart.

I’m so pissed at Pete that I can barely keep from running up the stairs and strangling the living shit out of him. He has something going on with Bone, but he won’t tell me what they were talking about. Bone’s no good and Pete knows it. So I have no idea what his purpose is for talking to the loser. He should have stayed far away from him.

But Kit’s hand is in mine, and it jerks me from my thoughts about strangling Pete. I stop at the top of the stairs and draw her to me. She laughs and falls into me, her hands landing to lie flat on my chest. Her thumb scrubs across one of my piercings and my breath catches. “Kit,” I warn.

“What?” she asks playfully, a grin tugging at her lips. “After what you did to me on the bathroom counter, you still won’t let me touch you? Seriously?” She’s playing. And I know it. But I don’t want to explain it. I cup her neck with my hand, and I feel a soft purr in her throat. God, I want her so bad.

“I enjoyed what I did to you on the bathroom counter,” I say as I touch my lips to hers. I lick across the seam of her lips, and she opens for me. Her tongue is a velvet rasp against mine, and I can imagine her taking my dick in her mouth and licking across it the same way. I groan into her mouth, and she steps up on tiptoe to get closer to me. Her hands slide around my neck, her tits pressed against my chest.

She lifts her head so I can see her lips. “When do I get to return the favor?” she asks. Her cheeks color prettily, and I can tell asking the question embarrasses her. God, she’s so damn cute.

I shake my head. “Not going to happen.”

She pulls back farther, her brows drawing together into a crease. “How long are you going to stick to that rule?” she asks.

“As long as it takes for you to trust me.”

“I trust you now,” she protests.

She doesn’t. If she did, she would tell me her secrets. “No, you don’t.”

“There are just some things I can’t tell anyone.” She takes my face in her hands. “Even you.” Her breath rushes against my lips and it’s all I can do not to press her against the wall and sink inside her right here and now. I could have her jeans off in seconds. Her legs around my waist. She breaks me from my haze of lust when she says, “I want to tell you everything.”

“You don’t have to tell me everything. But you can’t hold back from me.”

She lets me go and steps back, her breath rushing from her. I can feel the blast of it against my chin. “You mean like you’re holding back from me.”

I jerk her back to me, and she pushes away. She’s irked. I try to explain. “If I ever get to fucking be inside you, I want to know what to call you. I want to at least know your name. Because when that happens, you’re going to fucking own me.” I tip her face up so she’s looking at me. “Do you understand?”

She looks unsure.

“You’re going to own me.” I jerk her hips to mine, letting her feel how much I want her. “And there’s nothing I want more.”

I step back, brush her hair from her face, and open the door, tugging her by her fingertips until she follows me. She’s dragging. She tugs on my hand until I look at her.

“I want everything you want,” she says. She’s not looking me in the eye. So, I wait for her eyes to open. They finally do. She meets my gaze. “I do want everything you want. I just can’t have it.”

I lay her hand on my chest, and spread her fingers over my heart. “You already have me.” I laugh. “You had me from that first moment in the shop.” I hold up my arm, so she can look closely at her tat. “I’m wearing your fucking brand, damn it.” I tip her face up to mine. “What are you afraid of? You’re hiding from something. I know it. But I don’t know what.”

She bites her lower lip between her teeth and worries it. I tug it free with my thumb and lean down, sucking it between my lips. She steps onto her tiptoes and growls against my lips. I set her back and away from me, and I can feel the rumble in her chest as she moves.

“I’ll tell you. I can’t tell you everything. But I can tell you some of it,” she says.

My heart swells. I take her hand and lead her into the apartment. The whole place is quiet. Everyone is already in bed. “Want to take a shower?” I ask her. She sweated the night away.

“I thought you wanted to talk,” she says, looking everywhere but at me.

“I do.” And I don’t. Now I’m really afraid. “Take a shower and then we can talk until the sun comes up, if you want.”

She nods and bites her lower lip, which sends a kick straight to my gut. Then she turns from me. Suddenly she spins back. She grins and jerks her thumb toward the bathroom. “You want to join me in the shower so we can talk in there?”

Something tells me that if we end up in the shower, we won’t be doing much talking. “We’ll talk when you get out.”

Her bottom lip pokes out. But then she shrugs and says, “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

I shower quickly, trying to put my thoughts in order. I have to be really careful about what I tell Logan, mainly because there are so many people looking for me. I still see the lost posters at times. And there are news blasts sometimes with pictures of the old me. They’re of the me who had dark blond hair, pretty headbands, and shoes that cost more than the Reeds’ monthly budget. I ignore them, telling myself that person no longer exists. It’s easier that way.

I miss home with the longing of a toothache. But I’ve been gone so long now that I can’t go back. I left out of anger. And I can’t go home out of shame or necessity. I will only go home when I’m strong enough to stand up for myself. And I haven’t felt like that for quite some time.

I wrap a towel around my head and one around my body, and I step into the bedroom. Logan’s reclining on the bed wearing nothing but his boxers. He tosses me a clean shirt, and I pull it over my head. He closes his eyes as I slide his shirt on and step into my panties. I can hear the hiss of his heavy breaths across the room, and it’s a heady feeling to know how I affect him.

“You still want to talk?” I ask. “Or are you too tired?” I shake out my hair and run a comb through it.

“There’s no way you’re taking back your offer,” he warns. “You can’t tease me like that.”

I laugh. “I’m not taking it back. I just thought you might want to wait until tomorrow.”

He sits up and crosses his legs in front of him. I crawl onto the bed and mirror his position.

His gaze darts down to my panties, where he can probably see the strip of fabric between my legs. But I still sit criss-cross-applesauce. He groans. “You’re killing me here.”

I tug his shirt down over my knees. “You’re making me spill my guts. You can take some torture, too.” I glare at him until his gaze becomes indecipherable. “What is it?” I ask.

He heaves a sigh.

I hold up a hand to stop his melancholy mood. “If you could do anything, what would it be?” I ask.

His brows shoot up. “We’re supposed to be talking about you.”

“We will,” I warn. “I promise. Just tell me, if you could do anything, what would you do?”

He doesn’t even blink. But his eyes darken, and he says, “I’d lay you down, move your panties to the side and slide inside you.”

I freeze. My gut clenches and my belly quivers and my face heats up. I want what he wants. I want it so badly.

He laughs. “Oh, you meant the thing I want second-best?”

“That’ll do,” I croak.

“I’d go back to college,” he says over his laughter.

“Back to college? When were you in college?”

He scrubs a hand down his face. “Before Matt got sick. I had a scholarship.”

“But you had to come back home because of Matt and his cancer?” I lay a hand on my chest. My heart is breaking for this family. For Logan.

He shrugs. “We had to get some loans against the shop to pay for his treatment. And then he couldn’t keep doing tats because of the germs. So, we couldn’t pay the loans. Pete and Sam weren’t old enough to work there. Not doing tats.”

“What school did you go to?” I ask.

“NYU.” His brows furrow. “Why does any of his matter?”

“You gave up your scholarship for Matt. For your family.”

He shakes his head. “I got a deferment. I didn’t give up. I can go back once things are good here.”

“Did it cost a lot of money for Matt’s treatment?”

He nods. But he doesn’t elaborate. I can guess what a lot of money is to them.

“I wanted to do that, too,” I say quietly. No one knows this. No one else knows I had dreams once. “Well, not to NYU. I wanted to go to Julliard. But my dad said it was a worthless endeavor and he refused to pay for it.” I hold up a finger when he opens his mouth to protest. “But he was willing to pay for a wedding that cost four times what Julliard ever would.” I shake my head.

Logan looks a bit shell shocked. “A wedding?” he asks.

I nod, looking up at him from beneath lowered lashes.

His breath hitches. “Please tell me you’re not married.”

I shake my head. “No. That’s why I’m here.” I scoot forward so my knees are touching his. I don’t touch him anywhere else. But I need a connection with him. “My father arranged a marriage for me. That’s all I was good for, being on the arm of a senator or a high powered attorney. I had no worth of my own, aside from being someone’s arm piece. Since I can’t read, that was supposed to be my future.”

“But you said no.”

I nod. “I said no. And he didn’t like it. So, he went on without me. The wedding was planned. The dress was purchased. The church was decorated.”

His brows shoot toward the ceiling. “But you ran away.”

I nod, biting my lower lip. He pulls it free with the pad of his thumb and strokes across it. I kiss his thumb, and he leans back. “I ran away,” I confirm. “On the morning of the wedding, I ran away. I took a bus from home to here.”

“With nothing.”

I show him my empty hands. “I took some clothes, my guitar, and bus fare.”

“Where are you from?” he asks.

I shake my head. “I can’t tell you.” Yet. I know I’ll tell him eventually. But I can’t risk him calling my family. I can’t risk them finding out where I am. My father is one of the richest men in the country. He would spare no expense in bringing me home.”

He nods. He’s not happy about it, but he understands. “Julliard, huh?” he asks, smiling. His thumb trails across the back of my hand.

“Julliard,” I say with a smile. “I struggle with reading,” I admit. “But Julliard didn’t care. I even auditioned for them without him knowing. They wanted me. And offered special services for my dyslexia. But my dad found it to be a worthless endeavor. He’s of the opinion that I can’t learn. Anything.”

“Your dad is an idiot.” Logan says it deadpan.

I laugh. It’s a watery sound. He believes in me. Logan believes I could do it.

“What’s stopping you from going now?”

“My social security number,” I explain. “My father is looking for me. And I’m afraid he’ll force me back there if he knows where I am. He can track my movements if I go to the doctor or get a bank account or register for school.”

Logan shakes his head. “You’re an adult. You’re not under your father’s thumb.”

“I know.” I’m starting to realize that. “I don’t think I’ll ever go back.”

“Do you miss them? Your family?”

I miss them like crazy. “Almost every day.”

“Your dad?”

I nod.

“Your mom?”

I nod, and tears prick at my lashes when I think of her. But she didn’t help me when I begged and pleaded for her to do so. She sided with my father.

“Siblings?” he asks.

I shake my head. “My parents didn’t have more children. I’m their only one. Poor things got gypped, huh?”

“Don’t say that,” he warns sharply.

“It’s the truth. I’ve never been what they wanted.”

“What did they want?”

Someone else. “Someone who can read. Follow in their footsteps. Someone who doesn’t struggle to read street signs or financial statements. I can’t do any of those things.”

“Have they ever seen you play?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Not like I played tonight.”

“Then they’re even bigger idiots than I thought. You were amazing tonight. You had the crowd eating out of the palm of your hand.”

“Thank you for saying that.”

His eyes narrow. “It’s the truth.”

“I appreciate you so much,” I say. I know I’ve only known him for a few days, but it feels like forever. “Did I tell you enough?” I ask.

“Not by a long shot,” he says with a laugh. “I want to know everything.”

Maybe someday. “Can we take this slow?”

I can’t give him enough info that he could contact my parents. Because I’m afraid he would, thinking he was helping me.

“You’re worried that I’ll betray your confidence?” he asks. He sits back, affronted.

“Some people have good intentions. I know you do. But you don’t understand how much I have to keep my anonymity. I can’t trust anyone.” If I do, my parents will suddenly have the info they need to sweep down and snatch me back into their world.

He nods. He’s somber. I should have known how this would affect him.

“Now that you know where I came from, I understand if you want me to leave.” I turn to reach for my bag, so that I can gather my things.

“What the fuck?” he says, his arm snaking around my stomach as he picks me up and lifts me into his lap. I turn to face him, my legs over his thigh. “Where do you think you’re going?”

I heave a sigh. “I have no idea.”

He tips my face up and looks into my eyes. “I want you here. Will you stay?”

“Will you be satisfied with what I told you?”

He nods. “For now, yes.”

His eyes narrow and I know what his next question is. “Will you tell me your name?”

I shake my head. I can’t. “I’m sorry,” I say.

He nods, settling me against his shoulder. He holds me like that for a minute, and then he jostles me out of his arms. He pulls the covers back and picks me up, tucking me. He climbs in behind me and turns me to face him. “I had hoped for more. But I’ll take what I can get. Thank you for telling me what you did.”

“Thank you for listening.”

I lean forward and touch my lips to his. He’s hesitant. “What’s wrong?” I ask, leaning back.

He pulls me into him, and I feel the length of him against my hip.

“Oh,” I say. My belly clenches. My need matches his.

He brushes my hair back from my face with gentle fingers. “Yeah,” he says with a laugh. “It’s like this crazy torment, having you this close to me.”

“You know we could-” I start. But he puts a finger against my lips to stop me.

“I can wait,” he says. He reaches over and turns off the light. He rolls me into him, and the light dusting of hair that’s on his chest tickles my cheek.

“I think I might love you, Logan,” I say to the darkness.

His head lifts. I can see it in the sliver of light that’s falling from the open curtain. “Did you say something?” he asks.

I shake my head, letting my nose brush his chest so he can feel my answer.

“You sure?” he asks.

I nod, my nose brushing him up and down. He kisses the top of my head, and hitches my leg up over his hip. I wrap an arm around him and snuggle in deeply. “Go to sleep,” he says softly.

So I do.

***

I wake the next morning to a gentle tap, tap, tap on the side of my nose. I blink my eyes open and startle when I see a face looking into mine. Hayley grins at me. “You sweepy?” she says quietly.

I was, until she tapped against my face like a hungry bird. I scrub the sleep from my eyes and look over at Logan. He’s lying beside me with one arm flung over his head, his mouth hanging open. I snuggle deeper into my pillow. “Where’s your daddy?” I ask.

“Sweeping,” she says. She’s dragging a bunny by the ears. “I’m hungwy,” she says.

I cover a yawn with my open palm. I probably have awful morning breath. “Can you go and wake your daddy?”

She shakes her head. “He said to go back to sweep.”

I look toward the window. The sun is just barely over the horizon. “I want a pancake.”

A pancake? “How about some cereal?” I ask, as I throw the covers off myself and get up. I take a pair of Logan’s boxers from his drawer and put them on.

“Dos are Logan’s,” she says, scowling at me.

“Do you think he’ll mind if I borrow them?” I whisper at her.

She shakes her head and smiles, taking my hand in her free one so she can lead me from the room. “You don’t got to whisper. Logan can’t hear,” she says.

I laugh. She’s right. And what’s funny is that it took a three year old to remind me. I hold a finger to my lips, though, as we step out into the hallway. “But your daddy can. Shh.”

She giggles and repeats my shush.

She runs down the hallway, her naked feet slapping softly against the hardwoods until she’s in the kitchen. I search through the cupboards to find a box of cereal.

“Not dat one,” she says, shaking her head. “I don’t wike dat one.” She points to a different box. One with a cartoon character and the word fruit on it. But I know there’s no fruit in this cereal. Or anything else healthy.

“Does your daddy let you eat this?” I ask.

She grins and nods. I shrug my shoulders and pour her a bowl of cereal with milk. She gets her own spoon from the drawer. She knows where everything is. She digs into her cereal, her feet swinging back and forth beneath the chair.

I go and lay down on the couch. I am tired. I think Logan and I got to sleep around five in the morning, and it can’t be much later than that now. I lay back with a groan and close my eyes. I am just getting comfortable when two sharp elbows land in my midsection. Hayley crawls on top of me on the couch. I think she must be part monkey. She holds a kid-sized board book in her hand. “Wead,” she says, shoving it in my face.

I sit up, tucking her into my lap. I take the book from her and open it, but the words jumble. I turn it upside down. “Once upon a time,” I begin.

“Dat’s not how it goes,” she complains.

She’s a smart girl. “I know,” I explain. “But books are magical and if you turn them upside down, there’s a whole new story in the pages.”

“Weally?” she asks, her eyes big with wonder.

No, not really. But it’s the best I can do, kid. “Really,” I affirm.

She wiggles, settling more comfortably in my arms.

I start to make up a story, based on the upside down pictures. She listens intently. “Once upon a time, there was a little frog. And his name was Randolf.”

“Randolf,” she repeats with a giggle.

“And Randolf had one big problem.”

“Uh oh,” she breathes. “What kind a problem?”

“Randolf wanted to be a prince. But his mommy told him that he couldn’t be a prince, since he was just a frog.”

I keep reading until I say, “The end.” She lays the book to the side and snuggles into me. I kiss the top of her head, because it feels like the right thing to do. And she smells good. “Your story was better than the book’s story,” she says.

My heart swells with pride. “Thank you.” If only it was this easy to please the adults of the world.

“Want to watch TV?” she asks.

I yawn. “Sure. Why not?”

She goes over and picks up the DVD. “You go start it,” she instructs.

The DVD player is under the TV, and it doesn’t look that complicated. I put the movie in and turn the TV on. The movie starts, but it’s not a typical kids’ movie. It’s a movie that teaches sign language to children. I drop onto the floor to sit beside her. There’s a lady teaching each of the signs, and there are pictures. There are words at the bottom of the screen for people who can read. But it’s an instructional DVD made for kids.

Hayley sits beside me and she starts to repeat the signs. “You do it?” she asks. “We wearn signing for Logan.”

I am enraptured. “We learn sign language for Logan,” I repeat with a nod.

When the first DVD ends, we move on to the second. I have an amazing memory, because I have to have one. So, I think I can remember some of this. I’m giddy with excitement. I practice some of the more basic signs with Hayley.

We’re almost done with the second DVD when Paul walks into the room. “Hayley, what are you doing?” He scratches his stomach. His hair is a mess, sticking out all over the place.

She pats my cheek. “I wearning signing with Logan’s girl,” she says.

I like that. I like it a lot.

“Did she wake you up?” Paul asks, smothering a yawn.

I wave him off with a breezy hand. “It’s no big deal. She was showing me the DVD’s.”

He nods, his brows arching. “Well, I’m sorry she woke you. You should go back to bed.”

“Do you think it would be all right if I watch the rest of them later?” I ask, suddenly feeling shy about it.

He chuckles. “Of course. That’s how we all learned.”

I nod. He picks Hayley up, jiggling her until she giggles. He laughs at her. “Next time I tell you to stay in bed, I mean stay in bed, little girl,” he says. She laughs all the way down the hallway, until he takes her in his room and closes the door.

I yawn. The bed is calling to me. I go back in Logan’s room, and he’s lying exactly like I left him. I draw the shades closed, so the room isn’t quite so bright. Then I take off his boxers and slide back into bed with him. He reaches for me immediately, pulling me into him as he rolls and covers me with his leg, his thigh across the backs of mine. “You all right?” he asks.

I nod. I’m all right. I can’t help but think that I’m where I’m supposed to be.

He brushes my hair from my face and nuzzles me with his lips. I settle deeper into him and go back to sleep with him wrapped around me.

It seems like only moments later when the bed begins to vibrate.

The bed vibrates and I reach over and smack the alarm clock. I hate early Saturday mornings. But I promised Sam that I would go and run some plays with him in the park before the shop opens. Sam’s a football player, and he’s being scouted by a few colleges. He thinks he might get a full ride, and I couldn’t be happier for him. He doesn’t have the grades to get a scholarship like I did. But he’s capable of getting an education through sports, and that works too.

The purr of Kit’s throat tells me that she’s saying something. I look down at her lips, but she’s laying with her face smushed into the pillow. “Did you say something?” I ask, rolling her to her back. I throw my leg across her.

She doesn’t speak, but she signs the word no at me. My heart leaps. She smiles, then her brown eyes open and she blinks at me. “Did I do that right?” She signs the word for right, but nothing more.

“Yes, it’s right. Where did you learn that?”

“I watched some DVD’s with Hayley this morning when she woke me up.” She yawns and turns toward me. “Will you sign with me? I want to learn your language so we can talk around your brothers.”

My heart swells.

“I can learn to sign,” she begins, like she has to justify her ability to learn. I put my finger over her lips.

“Shh…” I say. “I’ll sign with you any time you want.”

She’s lying on her back with my t shirt sliding up to expose a strip of skin over her panties. I reach out, and run my hand along the seam of her panties, dipping the tips of my fingers below the elastic. She squirms and her eyes open. They’re soft and warm and pleading with me.

I should move away from her. But I can’t. I haven’t been able to get away from her since I met her, and I can’t start now.

I bend my head and press my lips to that little strip of skin, lingering there as I kiss my way from one hip to the other. She arches her back, pressing her heat closer to me. If she were anyone else, I would be pulling her panties down her legs by now. But she’s not anyone else. She’s mine. And she’s special. I groan out loud, flip her shirt down and move up to kiss her quickly. I’m sure I have morning breath, so I don’t linger. But as I move to roll off of her, she grabs my shoulders and pulls me back to her. “I’m not a virgin, you know?” she says.

I still. I didn’t know. And I don’t care. “Ok.” I don’t know what else to say.

She closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to look at me as she says, “I just wanted to be sure you know in case that’s why you’re hesitating so much.”

“Ok.” I pry her hands from my chest and roll away from her. She taps my shoulder and I look at her.

“It’s not like I’ve been with a lot of guys or anything.” She hesitates.

“I didn’t ask.” I smile at her in encouragement. But I’m sort of reeling from her declaration. I look into her eyes. “Did you ever do it with someone you were in love with?” I drag my crooked finger down the line of her jaw.

“Not yet,” she says.

I can’t bite back my smile. “Good.” Neither have I.

My dick is so hard that I have to shove it down into my jeans. I turn away from her long enough to do it and zip.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

“To toss the football with Sam.”

She throws the covers off and her face lights up. “Can I go?”

I stop. “You want to go toss a football in the park?”

She nods enthusiastically, her eyes shining. “There are a lot of things I can’t do. But football isn’t one of them.”

“You play football?”

“Played,” she clarifies. She takes on a strong man pose. “Four years with the pee wee league.”

I laugh. “Get dressed. You can come with me.”

She jerks on a pair of jeans and lifts her hair into a messy pony tail. Damn, she’s pretty. She picks up her bra, turns her back to me and hides her arms in the shirt, adjusting the bra beneath the fabric. Within seconds, she’s ready to go. She slides on her boots and nods. “Ready?” she asks. “You look like you’ve never seen a woman get dressed quickly.”

“I’ve never woken up with a woman,” I say. She stops moving and stares at me. “So, no, I’ve never watched one get dressed to start the day.” It’s usually a quick shrug into clothing after I kick someone out of my bed. Correction – after I make her come and then kick her out of my bed. But one day soon, I hope to watch her get dressed without holding the shirt over the best parts. “It seems really intimate, and I’ve never paid attention to anyone getting dressed after getting out of my bed.” I shrug. “I like it.”

Дата добавления: 2014-12-24