“I can’t… I can’t do this on my own anymore.”
“You don’t have to.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
A tear runs from Tek’s nose onto mine. “I trust you…” He sniffles. “So much.”
“Tell me what you need from me.”
“Fuck.” His whole body shivers. “I…need you to fuck me.”
My mouth is instantly dry.
My dick has never wanted anything more, but my heart and my head are at odds with it.
“I don’t think now’s the right time.”
“But you said—”
I stroke his cheek. “But you’re already with me.”
Like he’s scared it really isn’t true, Tek wraps both his arms around me.
I kiss the corner of his mouth. “I’ll take you away. But no sex. Not tonight.”
Iback into the lot behind Teken Ink, and pull up closer to the door than I typically would. It's a lot easier driving Tek's truck than the cumbersome van. To think, he had a whole other vehicle I could have borrowed when I asked for help with the furniture I'd bought from Harry's Hut, just sitting there unused in his garage.
What a prick,I smirk to myself as I make my way to the tailgate. Releasing it, I pull the two boxes of frames from my most recent trip to Harry's to the back of the tray, then carry the first one inside.
"For a second I got excited that you didn't work here anymore."
"What nice friends you keep," I say, refusing to look over at Tek, or Brooklyn at his station. But after I put the box down by the desk, I catch her out of the corner of my eye, and jealousy gets the better of me.
Sprawled out on the tattoo table, she's wearing a pair of banana-yellow athletic bike shorts. The ones girls wear that are so short they end up rolling to sit beneath the crease of their ass. It annoys me that Brooklyn is so competitive, and I really hate that she's so fucking good at it.
Tek's face is practically in her crotch as he leans over to work on her upper thigh; her other leg bent out to the side like she's inviting him in. Wriggling her hips, she pretends it hurts more than it does, and my eyes lock in on his.
I'm not sure how long I watch him for; it's tragic either way.
I know he's coming home with me.
I know my tongue was in his mouth half an hour ago, before her appointment. Before I escaped to Harry's so I wouldn't have to be here when she arrived.
When Tek stops to re-ink—his eyes never having strayed once from his work—I force myself back out to the truck to collect the second box.
After hanging up my jacket, I return to the desk. "I filled up the truck," I say, tossing the keys in the drawer.
"Did you get rid of the van?" Brooklyn asks Tek.Notme.Notthe one who was talking.
"Never," he says flatly, his head not moving.
"It's in the shop." I answer for him. "Getting a hot water tank installed. Some better storage under the bed. A few solar panels…"
She glances over her shoulder. "Why are you talking like it's yours?"
'Cause he's fucking me and not you, bitch.
