Black Sheep (11 page)

Tyson

CHRISTMAS PASSED WITH
no issues. If anything, things got better between Nicole and me. After our late-night talk at the kitchen table, we sort of fell back into our normal ways. I made sure to keep my eyes and thoughts to myself, and she seemed to be doing the same. I appreciated that. It made things a lot easier for me when it came to controlling myself.

I spent the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve working my balls off. I spent three days rebuilding an engine for a vintage Ford, and my nights at the tattoo shop got busier and busier the more word got out about my work. It was a good feeling to receive recognition for my art. I loved drawing, and I loved doing great tattoos.

“It’s good to see you in good spirits again, man. Did you get laid or something?” Nate asked as he wiped his oil-covered hands on an old rag.

I chuckled. “Come on, man, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”

It was total bullshit. I hadn’t been with a woman in weeks, and I didn’t even come with the last woman I was with. Still, the guys didn’t need to know when and where I was dipping my stick. It was my business.

“What are we doing New Year’s Eve?” Stony asked.

Stony had worked at the garage for the last six months but had become a part of our little family pretty easily. He didn’t do tattoos, but he’d still come to the shop after working at the garage all day and hang out.

“I was thinking we should have a kickass party or something. Maybe at the Tiger?” He turned his attention to Nate.

“Hell, no. You guys aren’t fucking up my shop. Gill would kill me if I let y’all come in there to mess shit up.”

Gill was the co-owner of The Blind Tiger, but he mostly dealt with the books and kept to himself. I’d only ever seen him ink a tat once, but it was amazing work.

Nate said he had pains in his fingers and wasn’t up to doing tattoos anymore, but he kicked ass when it came to crunching numbers for the shop.

It worked.

“What about your place, Stony? Why don’t we have it there?” Nate countered.

Stony chuckled, his green eyes glistening. “I live with my mom, dude. That shit wouldn’t fly with her.”

The rest of the guys laughed, and I smiled, enjoying their jokes and the happiness around me.

“How old are you again?” I asked Stony with a grin.

“Fuck you. I take care of her, not the other way around.”

Again, the guys laughed.

“You live alone, don’t you, Tyson? Let’s do something at your place,” Nate said, crashing into the computer chair behind the desk.

The desk was covered in old car parts and smudged papers. We weren’t a very organized group.

The apartment I lived in was small, and on occasion, a few of the tenants would throw a party. It didn’t bother me, and it didn’t seem to bother the rest of the tenants. I didn’t see why having a small party would be a problem as long as the guys promised to behave and not tear up my place.

“That works but no fucking up my apartment.”

“Deal,” Nate agreed.

Two nights later, my apartment was full of people. Most I knew, but a few faces weren’t familiar at all. The guys from the garage sat around the kitchen table playing a game of poker, while everyone else stood around chatting, giving the room a small roar just above the music we had playing.

The girls were dressed for the occasion—short skirts and cleavage as far as the eye could see—and New Year’s hats and noisemakers were trickled throughout the room. I kept my eyes to myself, not really noticing any girl in particular even though a few kept their eyes on me.

It was a good night, even if I was drinking less than everyone else was. It was my place. I didn’t want to get too intoxicated, especially not with so many people there. It was my responsibility to keep things running smoothly if I didn’t want my place destroyed.

Taking a swig from my beer, I laid my cards down and won that hand with a full house. I was up for the night, having won several hands. That was what happened when you were laid back and not really trying all that hard. Truth be told, I was trying to throw the hands as much as I could since I knew Nate was having some trouble covering his mortgage.

It was my turn to deal, so I shuffled the cards and started counting them out. As I was placing a card down for Stony, something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention, and I turned to find Nicole staring back at me with a nervous smile.

She lifted her hand and waved a bit, shrugging like she wasn’t sure if she should be here or not. I had to admit, I was surprised to see her. I hadn’t told her or the family anything about the party, which meant I hadn’t invited her.

It made me nervous to have her in a room with the guys, knowing how perverted they were. The last thing I needed was for one of them to say something sexual to Nicole. I’d end up fighting one of my boys and possibly losing my job.

Then my eyes shifted down, and I saw what she was wearing. Nicole wasn’t one for showing much skin. Usually, she was a tights and long sweater kind of girl. Occasionally, one of her tops would be cut just low enough to be able to see the top of her cleavage, but that was rare and usually had something to do with a performance she was in.

It was different this night. She was wearing her brown, suede boots that worked themselves up her calves and showing off her long, lean legs by wearing a shorter burgundy skirt. Her top wasn’t long enough and when she lifted her arm to run her fingers through her long, blond hair, it lifted, showing just enough of her waist to drive me nuts.

Her jacket was unzipped, showing her low-cut top, and my eyes caught on the tiny golden ballerina dancing across her cleavage. She looked delicious, and like me, it seemed every man in the apartment was noticing her.

I stood from the table and tossed the deck to Nate.

“I’ll be back,” I said.

His eyes followed where I was looking, and he nodded. “Yeah, you need to be over there talking to whoever she is.” He grinned.

I heard the guys talking when I walked away, and I didn’t miss it when Stony said, “Fuck, she’s sexy.”

My blood boiled briefly until I was standing in front of her and looking down at her shy smile.

“Sorry,” she said, tucking her hair nervously behind her ear. “I didn’t realize you were having a party.”

I shoved my hands in my pockets, hoping that would keep me from touching her—keep me from pulling her into my arms and taking her away where no one could see how absolutely sexy she was.

“It’s cool. Is everything okay?” I asked.

It was weird for her to show up at my place. Not that I minded, but the last time she’d done that, I’d been drinking. It didn’t go over well, not that I could remember details, and I worried since I was once again drinking in her presence, things would end badly once more.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I was just stopping by to see you before I head back out to New York.”

“Oh, yeah? When are you leaving?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

She was fidgeting, obviously nervous to be in a room full of strangers. 

Again, my eyes shifted over what she was wearing, and I came to a realization. She’d dressed for me. She was leaving soon, and there wouldn’t be any more holidays to bring her home for a while. She’d dressed sexy and came to my apartment, hoping to tell me goodbye, and suddenly, I felt bad that I wasn’t alone.

Then again, maybe it was a good thing I wasn’t alone because with her looking the way she did, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to push her away the way I had before. Just looking at her made my mouth water. Add in the fact that I hadn’t gotten laid in a while, and I was drinking … it wasn’t a good combination.

“Can we maybe go back there and talk for a minute or two?” she asked, pointing toward the hallway where my bedroom was.

Being alone with Nicole in the vicinity of a bed wasn’t a great idea, but since I lived in a one-bedroom apartment and the place was full of people, I nodded and turned for her to follow.

I passed the table with the guys playing poker, and Nate nodded and grinned at me. He probably thought we were going to have sex, but I wouldn’t let that happen. Not ever.

She stepped in my room ahead of me, and I shut the door behind us, closing us into the quiet space and blocking out the rest of the party.

I turned, pushing my hands into my pockets once again.

“So what’s up?” I asked.

She pushed her fingers through her hair—the act sending the scent of her perfume straight at me.

She smelled amazing, as usual, and my hands clenched into fists inside my pockets.

“Um … well, like I said, I’m leaving to go back to school, and …” She stopped.

“And?” I pressed.

“And I won’t be back for a while since the holidays are over and everything.”

I’d already considered that fact, and already, I was feeling as if I couldn’t breathe. The three months I’d gone without seeing her before damn near killed me.

I nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Her brows pulled down, and her lips were trembling.

“I mean, Juilliard is what you want, and I think it’s great you’re going for what you want.”

Even if going for what she wanted meant I was miserable without her—worrying about what could be happening to her in New York—worrying about this guy she claimed was only her friend.

I never kissed my friends the way she kissed Ballet Boy, but then again, most of my friends were guys. And while that was totally cool as far as I was concerned, I didn’t swing that way.

Again, she began to fidget, plunging her top teeth into her plump bottom lip.

“It’s important to go for what you want, no matter what,” she said, twisting her fingers together and making her knuckles turn white.

Removing my hand from my pocket, I reached out and covered her fingers to stop her from hurting herself.

“Are you okay, Nicole?” I asked.

Her face had gone pale beneath her light layer of makeup, and her eyes went wide with my question.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She sighed in aggravation; again, her fingers went into her hair, smoothing it down. “I guess I’d better go. I just wanted to say bye. Have fun at your party.”

She moved toward the door and grabbed for the knob, but I couldn’t let her leave like that. I knew it wasn’t safe to be alone with Nicole for too long, but she looked upset, and the last thing I wanted was for her to drive home in distress.

Reaching out, I grabbed her wrist to stop her.

“Hey,” I said, pulling her back a bit before I let her arm go. “What’s wrong?”

Again, her teeth went into her lip, forcing my eyes to her mouth.

“It’s just …” she started and stopped.

“You can tell me, Nicole. Did someone hurt you or something?”

Worry slammed into me like a sack of bricks. I hadn’t even considered the idea that someone might have hurt her, and she was coming to me about it. I hadn’t seen her much since Christmas day, so I had no idea who she was hanging out with or what she was doing. There was no telling what she had gotten herself into.

“Whatever it is, just tell me,” I repeated.

And then she surprised me, running to me and wrapping her arms around my waist. I jumped at her touch, feeling as if I’d just been shocked by electricity, and the anxiety set in.

People didn’t touch me. I didn’t let it happen. Every time someone did, my memories would attack and send me to when I was a little boy and couldn’t get their filthy hands off me.

It was different with Nicole, though. Her touch hurt, sending me crashing back into my memories and ripping open my mental scars, but at the same time, it soothed me—keeping those scars from bleeding out—replacing those memories with her … all things her.

I held my arms out at my sides as she pressed her face into my chest. She inhaled, and I knew she was doing the thing I’d done many times over the years. She was breathing me in—capturing my essence and storing it away for the days when she’d be away.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath and the scent of her perfume and shampoo rose to meet my senses. Reality clicked at that moment. Nicole was leaving me again, and this time, it would be for longer than three months.

I wasn’t going to survive it.

Nicole

I HAD NO
idea what I was doing. I had no game plan whatsoever when I drove over to Tyson’s place. It was New Year’s Eve, I had no one to hang out with other than my parents, who were sitting on the couch waiting for the ball to drop, and I was leaving to go back to New York soon.

I hadn’t seen much of Tyson since the night in the kitchen, and I didn’t want to leave this time without seeing him and saying goodbye.

The party in his apartment was unexpected, and once I saw so many people, I almost left, but then I’d seen him relaxing at the table with a smile on his face, and I knew I couldn’t walk away from him. I had to see him, and I wanted to do it alone … without my parents under the same roof.

He was stiff in my arms, and I knew how much my touch was costing him, but I couldn’t pull away. I knew once I did, and once I left his place, it would be almost five months before I returned for the summer. Being away from him that long was going to be hell, and since I was determined not to use Russell to take my mind away from Tyson, I had no one to fall back on.

I backed up and looked at him; sure, I would see a look of fear plastered across his face. I was surprised when he looked down at me and a tiny grin tugged at the side of his mouth. At that moment, my heart fluttered, and the tiny broken pieces slowly came together again. I knew not to expect much, but at least he was letting me hold him without freaking out or pulling away.

“Thank you,” I whispered, feeling dumb for being so grateful for something as little as a hug.

His brows pulled in at his confusion. “For what?”

His voice was soft and welcoming, his warm breath scented with beer rushing over my nose and lips.

“For not pulling away from me.”

His expression shifted to sadness, and his eyes went soft. “It’s not something I can help,” he admitted.

It was a large step for him to open up to me yet again. It warmed me knowing he felt comfortable enough to make such admissions, even if it was just a little.

“I know things happened to you, Tyson,” I said, and I felt his body tighten in my arms. “But I’d never do anything to hurt you … not ever.”

His eyes connected with mine before shifting over my face, taking me in. Then he shocked me yet again when he lifted his hand and cupped my cheek. His palm was warm and hard, his fingers long and reaching all the way inside my hairline. His thumb dragged along my cheekbone, the rough pad softly scratching my skin.

“It’s not you, it’s me.
I
don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.

“You won’t.”

He shook his head, sadness filling his eyes. “I won’t mean to. I might not even realize I’m doing it, but I will. I’ll destroy everything wonderful about you.”

I snorted, and a smile tugged at my lips. “There’s nothing wonderful about me, so I think we’re safe.”

His face sobered at my words, and he brought his other hand up to cup my other cheek. His thumb moved over my lips, making them tingle from his touch.

“You’re perfect.”

I don’t know if it was him or me, but all I knew was his lips were suddenly on mine. His mouth was soft and warm—his lips delicate yet demanding against my own. I opened for him and felt his tongue against mine, becoming drunk on the taste of him.

His hands shifted from my cheeks, his fingers going into my hair. I let him take the lead in fear that I’d push too hard, and he’d pull away from me yet again.

My hands slid from around his waist and up his chest, and his hard muscles twitched beneath my palm. Hesitantly, I continued moving them up until I was able to put my arms around his neck. My fingers twisted in his soft hair, and his moan against my lips sent chills down my spine.

Then his hands moved, and he was wrapping his large arms around me and pulling me into his hard body. He broke the kiss, and I sucked in a much-needed breath. His lips skimmed the side of my mouth before he moved and began kissing the side of my neck. His hot breath struck my ear, and I shivered.

I hadn’t come to his place for kisses and touches. Honestly, it was the last thing I’d expected, but I wasn’t about to stop him. If he wanted me, I was his. I’d always been his.

Pulling his mouth back to mine, I kissed him back harder, tasting him and savoring every second. He was all I ever wanted and had remained all I ever wanted throughout all the back and forth—give and take—push and pull. No matter what, he kept reeling me in, and I kept falling for him over and over again.

He turned me, walking me backward toward his bed, and I willingly went. His lips left mine as I fell back on the mattress. Then he was crawling over me, his mouth skimming over my ballerina charm, my neck, and my chin before landing on my lips once again.

He kissed me deep and hard. He kissed me like I’d never been kissed in my entire life. My skirt rode up my legs, and his hand followed, pushing it up further. I spread my knees for him, allowing him to settle between my thighs. He pressed against my center, making me break our kiss yet again when I cried out in pleasure.

I hadn’t meant to be so vocal, but then again, I hadn’t felt anything so amazing in all my life. With nothing but a thin pair of panties between my naked flesh and his rough jeans, I was able to feel every sensation perfectly.

He worked his hips, pressing against me as my underwear grew wetter and wetter with each thrust. Through his jeans, I could feel that he was hard and ready for me, and I wanted nothing more than to reach between us and push his jeans down his body, but I couldn’t. I had to let him take the lead. If I pushed, he would pull away.

One thing I was sure of was if he continued to thrust against me, I was going to come. It didn’t matter that our clothes were still on. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t inside me. The friction of his body against mine was sending me spiraling higher and higher until I was seconds from bursting.

The fingers I had in his hair tightened, and my thighs clenched around him. I could feel the slow, agonizing rise of my impending orgasm, and I lifted my hips, begging for more with my body.

My hands slid from his hair and down his back. I wanted to feel his skin against my skin, so I pulled up the back of his shirt and let my hands wander up his spine. He continued to kiss me, breaking on occasion for breaths and for his lips to skim the sensitive area behind my ears.

His thrusts quickened, and my breaths tripled. The rise was still there, climbing higher and higher until I was seconds away from letting go completely. Without thinking, I dug my nails into the skin on his back, pulling his body harder into mine.

And everything immediately stopped.

I barely had time to register what was happening before Tyson was off me and standing in the corner across the room. Sweat dotted his brow and fear consumed his expression.

“I’m so sorry,” I breathed. “I didn’t mean to … Did I hurt you?”

I didn’t think digging my nails into his skin could hurt him that badly, but it did something to him—something that sent him running for the hills and cowering in the corner.

He gripped his hair with both fists before sliding his palms over his face and growling into his hands.

“Please,” he said from behind his hands, his voice muffled. “Just go.”

I sat up and adjusted my clothes. My body begged for completion, my muscles bunched tight and ready to snap.

“Tyson, please, I didn’t mean …”

“Stop!” he yelled, stopping my words. “Just go. I can’t … I just can’t do this.”

I nodded and stood from his bed. I’d done something to send him spiraling. The last thing I wanted to do was make it worse by sitting there staring at him. If he wanted me to go, then I’d go. I hated to leave things that way, especially since I was going back to New York and I’d be there until summer break, but I also hated myself for whatever I did to break him in such a beautiful moment.

I understood he had dark demons, and I was willing to give him as much space as he needed now that I was starting to see the issues were more about his past and less about me. But I hated that something I did made them rear their ugly heads—that my touch had made the shadows in his dark eyes return.

“I’ll see you when I come home again,” I said before I pulled the door open, letting the sounds of the party into the room.

He nodded, his hands falling from his face and his eyes connecting with mine.

I wanted to say so many other things, but I couldn’t. I knew it wasn’t a good time. It was never a good time with Tyson. Instead, I attempted a smile, and I turned and left his room. I didn’t look back.

No one said anything to me as I moved through the crowded apartment toward the front door, and I didn’t breathe again until I was outside next to Dad’s car. I climbed inside and turned on the heat, but I didn’t pull away. Instead, I sat there and watched the clock change, bringing in the New Year alone in the parking lot just outside Tyson’s apartment.