Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4) (22 page)

The second the needle touched Austin’s scar, the worst one on the middle of his back, I knew he would instantly become addicted to ink. There was nothing that could ever explain the surge of adrenaline that soared through your body when you took your pain into your own hands.

Not letting it take you under. Even if it was only until the needle stopped moving against your flesh. His scar now getting covered by the outline, color, and shading.

He decided on a phoenix bird spreading its wings, flying out of the flames of Hell below.

Rising.

Reborn.

The outline took up most of his back, covering up the evidence that haunted him every day. We spent the rest of the night there, while Jose worked his magic on Austin’s imperfect skin. Creating something beautiful out of something broken. He said it would take three or four sessions to finish it completely, but when it was done it’d be a pretty sick masterpiece. Austin told him he would be back the next morning, eager to get it finished.

We drove in comfortable silence on the way back to our hotel. I knew he wanted to say so much by the way he was stealing glances at me while he was smoking his cigarette. I didn’t need to hear it. The happiness on his face was enough of a “thank you” for me.

Austin went right in the shower when we got back to the hotel. I cleaned up the food I left in the kitchen, deciding to order room service for us instead. I used the phone on the end table by the couch, turning on the TV after I hung up.

I would be lying if I said I hadn’t been staring at Austin’s notebook that was placed on the coffee table since I started cleaning up the kitchen. It was sitting right there, tempting me to open it and find out the secrets behind the cover. For whatever reason, he never left it out. I knew he drew. I just didn’t know what he was actually drawing on the pages inside. I’d watch him get lost for hours with that notebook in his lap. Never finding the courage to ask him what captivated him so damn much.  

I still heard the shower running. I knew it was wrong to invade his privacy without permission, but I couldn’t fucking help myself.

I needed to know.

With shaky hands, I reached over to the table and picked up the notebook that held a piece of Austin’s world. I wasn’t worried that he could come out of the bathroom at any moment and catch me red-handed.

I was more worried about what my eyes would see.

My heart was pounding, my mind racing as if it knew that I was about to discover something that would change our friendship. Something that would change our future. Colliding us onto a path that we would never be able to veer away from.

I gasped, completely breathless from the first sketch I saw while invading his soul.

Dancing. Hair flowing wild and free. Big, bright, blue eyes piercing right at me. High cheekbones, pouty lips, long lashes, no make up on.

I flipped the page. Wings. The left one darker, feathers misplaced, falling off, dark shading. The right one, perfect, every feather intact and immaculately placed, light shading. Bows. Skull with roses around it. Writings in different fonts scattered, flowers cascading down. Everything was so intricately drawn.

I stopped to admire each and every one of them, running my fingers over the illustrations with tears in my eyes.

I never knew what he was drawing.   

Not once.

Next page. A girl sleeping, her head placed on a pillow with her mouth partly open. The sheet covering up to her stomach. Her breasts perked up. She looked so peaceful. Beautiful. I swear I could see her breathing.

More tears.

Next page. Book covers, upon book covers, upon book covers.  

Next page. A girl deep in thought, her eyes so sad, so lost. So fucking captivating.

Every. Single. Page.

Every last one.

Was me.

But not me…

It wasn’t Briggs staring back at me. It was Daisy. He was able to capture every detail I so desperately tried to hide. Not knowing one thing about the girl behind the purple hair and tattoos, but somehow knowing everything.

“How the hell did you do this, Austin?” I asked myself out loud.

“It was easy. I just need to look at you.”

His voice startled me, making me jump. I never even heard the shower turn off. I didn’t bother to look up. I was too mesmerized, caught up in the talent bleeding through the pages of a girl that I thought didn’t exist anymore.

More tears filled my eyes for the second time that day. I couldn’t remember the last time I cried so much. Except for the first time in I don’t know how long…

They were tears of happiness.

“Why?” I found myself asking, terrified to know the answer.

I heard his footsteps coming toward me, each one louder than the last, till he sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of me. Reaching over to graze the side of my cheek with his fingers that no longer smelled like cigarettes.

A smell that I now craved.

“You’re my muse,” he simply stated, meaning each word.

I shut my eyes, the emotion too much for me to handle. He grabbed the notebook off my lap, throwing it on the couch beside me. Pulling me toward him effortlessly, making me straddle his lap. I could feel his arousal beneath me.

There I was wrapped in his arms, sincerely letting my guard down for the first time. I pressed my forehead up against his as he pulled the hair away from my face.

His eyes.

They did it to me every time.

There was so much emotion behind his gaze, and I knew it mirrored mine. There were no need for words. Our eyes spoke for themselves as his hands caressed the sides of my cheeks. Pulling my mouth toward his without any hesitation.

His lips were just as I remembered, fuck, maybe even better. He sought out my tongue before I had the opportunity to find his, moaning into his mouth the second they collided.

His lips, his tongue, his hands.

I felt him everywhere and all at once and all we were doing was kissing. He was soft but demanding, controlling but passionate, and fucking intense as all hell.

“Austin,” I erratically breathed, panting breaths on his lips.

“What, baby…” he groaned with the same sensual tone.

“I want you,” I managed to speak.

My thoughts.

My words.

They all seemed to be intertwined with one another.

“I want you more than I have ever wanted anyone in my entire life,” he confessed. “What’s your name? Tell me your name, and I’ll give you whatever the fuck you want,” he replied between kisses.

I whimpered, begging, “Please.”

He smiled against my lips, gliding his hands down my body until he reached the edge of my panties and reaching down between my legs. I opened them wider for him. I knew he could feel my wetness through the silk when his fingers found my folds.

I shamelessly moaned, leaning my head back. Urging him to keep going.

He slipped my panties to the side and touched my pussy for the first time. I shuddered, kissing him deeper, harder, faster. His rough fingers moved to my opening, soaking up my wetness, sliding them back and forth on my clit.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he growled, thrusting them into my opening. “Ride my fingers, baby. Fuck my hand.”

No one had ever talked to me like that before. I swear to God I almost came from that alone.

He curved his fingers toward my sweet spot, pushing, pressing, and fucking me while I swayed my hips with the same momentum.

“Please make me come. Please… no one has ever made me come before.”

He released a growl from deep within his chest, vibrating against my core. I opened my eyes needing to look at him even though we were still kissing. His eyes were already open, staring and taking me in.

Austin held all his secrets and told all his truths through his eyes.

He met my gaze and we moaned into each other’s mouths. He pulled away to rest his forehead along mine, wanting to watch me come undone while working me with his fingers. I could only imagine what his cock felt like.

“You like that, baby? Does that feel good? Huh? Tell me, tell me it feels good,” he huskily urged.

“Yes…” Was all I could manage to say as I came undone.

He fucked me faster with his fingers, and I rode him harder. I bit my bottom lip and felt my legs quiver and my pussy pulsate. I gasped, sucking in air, falling over the edge. Climaxing so fucking hard I saw stars.

We both panted into each other’s mouths.

I rode the high for as long as I could, reaching for the elastic band of his gym shorts.

“No,” he rasped, stopping my hand.

“What?” I asked, taken aback, trying to catch my breath.

He kissed the tip of my nose, looking deep into my eyes once again and said,

“You don’t get my cock, until you give me your name.”

I had been with Briggs for over a year, and she had yet to tell me her fucking name. It wasn’t from lack of trying. It didn’t matter what I did or said, she wouldn’t share it. I didn’t see the big deal. It was just a God given name for fuck’s sake. It’s not like I would call her by it. I just wanted to know, for her to be comfortable enough to share a piece of her past with me.

We had gotten close in other ways though. She told me more meanings of her tattoos, except my favorite. We shared a bed so I could hold her every night. We went on dates everywhere we traveled and acted like a couple, no need to pretend anymore.

We didn’t talk about what we were to each other, we didn’t have to, we knew. I had made her come with my mouth and fingers more times than I could fucking count. We still hadn’t had sex and she hadn’t touched or seen my cock. Don’t get me wrong. I loved watching her come undone around my tongue and fingers, lapping up her salty sweetness that I never got enough of.

There was no sweeter taste than Briggs.

I could only imagine what her pussy would feel like around my cock.  She felt my dick twitch every time I touched her, and every time she tried to touch me I stopped her.

She knew what I needed to hear.

I had the worst case of fucking blue balls known to man and my hand was getting fucking tired from jacking off so damn much. I wouldn’t back down though.

Not a chance in Hell.

I wanted her.

Trust me. I never wanted anyone as much as I wanted Briggs.

I just wanted all of her.

I pulled her hair away from her face, staring down at her while she was sleeping next to me. My head leaned on my hand, propping myself up as I laid sideways taking in the beauty that was Briggs. Her purple hair was splayed all over her face and pillow, and her lips looked swollen from sleep. The camisole had risen to below her breasts and her ass was completely sticking out, I could see her hard nipples in broad daylight.

If it was even possible, she looked even more breathtaking in the morning, so peaceful, so fucking beautiful when she slept.

Mornings were always my favorite. 

We had been back in New York for a few weeks now. Briggs was happy to sleep in her own bed, and I was happy to join her. I guess you could say we were living together. I was staying at her apartment instead of finding my own place. It was pointless when we traveled more than we were home. We would be hitting the road again next month, but it was nice to have some downtime and do normal shit like normal couples do.

She released a muffled breath, shaking her head and waking herself up.

I grinned, holding back my laughter.

“That wasn’t a snore. My nose is clogged. It’s my allergies,” she justified, taking in my smartass expression.

“Whatever you have to tell yourself, baby.”

She playfully slapped my chest. “Austin! I don’t snore. I have allergies.”

“Did I say a word?”

“You don’t have to. I can tell what you’re thinking,” she said as she rolled away from me.

“Is that right?” I wrapped my arm around her waist, turning her and tugging her toward me.

Her body was now pressed up against mine, my leg caging hers in.

“What am I thinkin’ right now?”

She slowly slid her delicate hand down my bicep and then my chest. Touching the scars that were now covered in ink. I had a tribal tattoo that started from my right chest up. The words, “Pain is temporary, pride is forever,” surrounding it. The tribal extended onto my right arm, becoming a sleeve. My other arm had a sleeve as well, it was a tropical and tribal design that just went down my entire left arm.

Briggs loved the tattoos.

I got my nipple pierced along with another surprise that she didn’t know about.

And fuck… I wanted to show her more than anything.

“Hmm…” she hummed, rubbing her knee on my morning wood. Playing with my nipple ring. “I could think of a few things, birthday boy.”  

“Does it start with your name?”

She ignored my question, leaning in to softly kiss my scar that was near my heart. She said she liked to feel it beating against her mouth, rubbing her lips back and forth over it.

“I could give you one of your presents.” She softly licked in between kissing. “I’m a really good present giver. Some people have even called me a pro.”

I immediately jerked her head back by her hair to look at me.

“What people?” I snapped at what she was insinuating.

She moaned, biting her bottom lip. Briggs loved to be manhandled. She also loved my dirty fucking mouth.

“I’ll let you give me anything you want,” I rasped, her eyes glazed over. “Just tell me your name. That’s the only gift I really want from your mouth, baby.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” she sassed. “What about this gift?”

Her hands instantly ticked under my chin and around my neck. Laughing hysterically at my reaction. I grabbed her hands, locking them behind her back.

“Ah! You’re hurting me,” she lied so I would let go.

“You fucking love it. Don’t lie, little girl.”

I kissed her lips, let go, and got out of the bed.

“I’m going to go take a shower,” I said without looking back.

“Wish I could help you with your problem, Austin. God knows your hand must be getting tired.”

I playfully flicked her off and walked into the bathroom, chuckling to myself. “Rosie Palms is a nice lady,” I said loud enough for her to hear, opening the bottle and taking two pain pills down.

She started laughing her ass off on the bed.

It was the best fucking sound ever.

We spent my birthday roaming around New York. We ended up in Central Park, where Briggs read one of her smut books and I sat drawing inappropriate pictures of her. A few weeks ago while walking past an art gallery that had always caught my attention since I first got to New York, she asked me why I never pursued a career in art. I just told her that it had always been a dream of mine, but it wasn’t in the cards. She dropped it after that, which I was grateful for.

We went back to the apartment to get ready for dinner. Briggs made reservations at some fancy place on Fifth Avenue. I would have been happy staying in and ordering pizza, but she insisted. When she walked out of the bathroom wearing a black, tight, short dress with red fuck-me heels, we were late for her reservations.

I decided to eat her instead.

After dinner we walked around, holding hands, talking about nothing in particular, just laughing and enjoying each other’s company. I couldn't have asked for a better birthday. The last few had been pretty shitty, spending them by myself.

We passed my favorite art gallery, the one that had always caught my eye. The glass windows displayed the room full of different artists. Everything from sculptures to abstract paintings, to sketches and photography.

“Come on.” She nodded toward the door, leading the way inside.

“You want to buy some art, baby?”

“Maybe.”

“Is that right? Mine not good enough anymore?”

She shrugged, grinning at me as we made our way to one of the other rooms.

“Way to crush a man's dream. You going to kick me in the balls next?" I said, holding my heart, forging hurt.

“There’s actually this really hot new artist that I have been dying to show you.”

“The fuck?” I breathed out.

“Briggs,” the owner walked over to us, interrupting our conversation. “Is this him?” he asked, looking only at me.

She beamed.

“Austin, right?”  

I nodded.

“Rafael.”

We shook hands.

“I told Briggs I had been dying to meet the man behind the sketches she showed me. They make a great addition to my collection,” he informed, catching me completely off guard.

“Excuse me?”

Briggs cleared her throat, stepping in between us.

“I’m going to go give him his present now. We will be right back.”

Rafael nodded in understanding.

“Baby, what’s going—”

“Close your eyes.”

I arched an eyebrow, cocking my head to the side.

“Don’t you trust me?” She smiled, blowing me a kiss.

I caught it in the air and placed it near my heart.

“With my life,” I simply stated, closing my eyes.

It didn’t take long to walk through the small crowd, reaching our destination.

“Keep them closed, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She let go of my hand and turned my body in the direction she wanted me to face. Standing behind me, she placed her hands over my eyes.

“Happy birthday, Austin,” she murmured into my ear, taking her hands away.

I blinked my eyes open, trying to get rid of the haze. I stood face to face with the picture I drew of Briggs the day she told me about the meaning of her first tattoo. Except, it didn’t have the date written over her clavicle bone anymore, it had been replaced with…

Daisy.