One More Day (16 page)

"Mack, it's December.  Christmas is coming.  You don't think they're going to want to know where you are and how you're doing?"

She shrugged, and he tapped her hip again out of reflex.

"Dad might.  Not real sure where mom is.  She's probably high as a kite, though."

"You totally against drugs?" he asked.

"I dunno.  Never really had an interest.  My mind comes up with enough shit on its own, I don't need chemicals to help."

She could see him nod from the corner of her eyes, his complete attention on her back.  "Pot?"

"I've never smoked anything in my life," she admitted.

"Will you try it?"

"You want me to get stoned?"  It wasn't every day that your boss suggested something like that.

"Helps with the puking and pain.  There's probably going to be some of both."

"You going to get high with me?" she asked.

"If that's what it takes, sure, but only after I'm done for the night.  I'm a lazy artist when I'm high."

"Ryan?" she asked, his words making her realize something.

"Hmm?"

"I kinda feel like, for the first time in my life, that I'm being young and irresponsible.  I mean, I'm staying up late, talking about getting high, sleeping with my boss - "

"But not fucking," he reminded her.

"Right.  But I mean, I do nothing but screw around all day.  Playing.  None of this feels like work."

"You want me to show you the books?"

"Books?"

"Finances," he clarified.  "We're not screwing around, it's just a different work environment.  You can pull down three hundred a night in just designs.  If you ever decide to start tattooing?  Yeah, it's a lot more than that.  Three, four thousand a month usually."

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Yeah, we're not a big place.  I mean, we could advertise and bring in more business, but I haven't found a third tattooist I want to hire.  I'm not about to let shit work go out this door under my name."

"Sterling is your real name?"

"Yeah," he said.  "The only good thing my dad gave me.  Never knew him, so can't really bitch, but yeah."

"So, when does all the good run out?" she asked.  "Sleeping in late, relaxed work environment, decent money, you know, all that?"

"When you stop respecting the work.  Come in fucked up and think you can tattoo, or try to pick a fight with the clients?  Yeah, it's game over.  It's a job, just like any other.  There are rules we play by, but they aren't the same as in an office.  This is a luxury market, Mack.  People want this, they don't need it, so we need to make them happy about it."

"Kinda like my surprise temporary tattoo?"

"Yeah.  This is really fucking good," he told her.  "Damn."

"Damn?"

"Never mind," he said.  "We're good."

"Can I use the paint for my eyebrows?" she asked.

"God, Mack, I'm a fucking idiot," Ryan said suddenly.  "Yeah.  You can.  You can also do temporary tattoos without all the crap you need to do the permanent kind.  Just need a damned artist who can use a brush.  It's henna based.  All those girlfriends who want something, but don't want to commit?  You can do this."

"This mean I get to practice on you?"

He chuckled softly.  "You want me to lay quietly while you caress my skin?  Sure.  I'll try that."

Chapter 16

He finished the art and made her lay there, letting it dry.  Mack rested her head on the pillow and let her eyes close, listening to Ryan moving around the shop.  Naturally, she dozed off.  His fingers on her back woke her, and without thinking, she made to turn toward him.

"Uh uh," he said softly, touching her arm.  "The first time I get to see you undressed will not be because you're half asleep and turn wrong."

"I have pants on," she muttered.

"Barely," he reminded her, tracing the swell of her ass.  "It's dry, Mack.  Look at it, then get dressed."

He turned to walk out of the room, but she stopped him.  "Wait?"

"Yeah?"

"If you're going to be a perfect gentleman, then pass me my shirt?"

He nodded, passing her both.  Laying on her stomach, she handed him back the bra and unfolded her shirt.  This time she was the one with the devious smile.  When he turned to set her bra on the rolling table, she sat up, holding the shirt across her breasts, smiling when he immediately looked. 

"Damn it," he muttered, aware of what he'd just done.

"So I'm covered."  She pulled herself to her feet.  "And we both know you want to see my reaction."

It was only a handful of steps to the back of the room.  She turned, looking over her shoulder at the full length mirror.  When she saw what he'd designed, she was truly speechless.  Wispy vines of flowers wove across her hips in deep purples and greens, reaching up to her shoulders to twine around themselves.  The knot of vegetation merged itself into a body as the flowers changed to fuchsia and red tones, wild roses dropping petals that began to look like feathers the further up her eye went.  The body was the phoenix she'd wanted to draw so badly that first day.  Its wings reached for freedom, flames licking her shoulder and the side of her breast, tendrils breaking free to dissolve back into petals.  The mythical bird held a single daffodil in its mouth.

"That's amazing," Mack breathed.  "God, take a picture!"

He laughed.  "Stay there."  He was back in a few seconds, a camera in his hand.  "Look at the wall," he ordered, reminding her to stop staring at the art.

She did, and he snapped a few pictures, moving in for detail on some areas.  Without warning, he leaned closer and kissed the side of her neck.  Mack pressed into it, suddenly very aware of how little she was wearing, and how amazingly sexy Ryan was.

"Get dressed," he whispered, walking out of the room.  The click of the latch was loud.

"He's going to kill me before this is over," she muttered.

Mack pulled on her clothes, then walked into the shop, noticing that everything had already been done while she lay there napping.  Ryan leaned over the computer at the front desk, downloading the pictures from the camera.

"Can I use this in the portfolio?" he asked, tapping the binder on the counter.

"Yeah," she said.  "Shit, I might talk you into doing it permanent when I'm done with all of this."

"That's a big piece," he warned.  "You're talking hours of time under the needle, and in some pretty sensitive areas."

"I'm tough," she teased.  "I mean, c'mon, I'm kicking the shit out of cancer, right?  What's a few needles?"

"And Colby is not inking the side of your tits."

Mack laughed.  "Nope.  It's your design, your ink.  We closed?"

"Yeah."  He clicked a few things, then straightened, leaving the computer.  "Door's are already locked.  I just need to run a report in the office."

"What do you need me to do?"

"Keep me company?  It'll only take a few seconds."

He grabbed her fingers and pulled her with him.  When he sank into the chair behind his desk, he pulled her onto his lap and reached around her, his cheek pressed against her arm.  A few taps of the keys, then he clicked a few more and leaned back, pulling her against him.

"Kool-aid," he said.  "Or more Coke.  Your call."

"The red stuff," she decided.  "No caffeine, and I sure as hell don't need to be awake for hours."

"Hungry, yet?"

"I just ate!"

"Fries," he teased, wrapping his arms around her.  "I meant real food.  You know, I can cook."

"Really?"

"Kinda learn how to do that when you're single."

She laughed.  "For three weeks."

"That doesn't count!"

"Why not?" Mack asked.

"We are not talking about Hailey."  He guided her up.  "No matter how hard you try, it will not happen.  Go turn off the lights."

"Yes, dear."  She sauntered out of the room.

"Damn that's a nice ass," he muttered.

"What?" she asked, turning in place.

"Lights!"

"How?"  She gestured at her ass.  "Little beauty queen was jumping on your dick, and you think this is a nice ass?"

"Lights," he said again.

"Ok, but I'm not letting this go," she warned him.

By the time she'd flipped all the switches, Ryan was in the hall, his office dark behind him.  He grabbed her hand and fell in beside her, heading to that plain white door at the back of the building.  She pulled away to turn off the break room lights, and he got the bathroom, checked the back door, then joined her again just in time to pull open the door to the stairs.

"So," he said as he closed it behind them, "She's all well applied cosmetics and well shaped clothes.  She refused to ever eat in front of any one, and I'm pretty sure she puked half of what she did eat when she was alone.  Hailey is not pretty.  She's built like a teenage boy."

"Ryan, I saw her," she pointed out.  "She's like a fucking super model."

He laughed.  "Exactly.  Not sexy.  Not even pretty."

They'd reached the top of the stairs, and Mack was feeling just a bit winded from the climb.  She shouldn't have, but that no longer mattered.  Ryan just pointed at the couch and made his way into the kitchen, pouring a glass of kool-aid before rummaging in the cabinet where he'd stored her meds.  Mack had kicked off her shoes, and all but thrown herself into the couch by the time he got back.

"No curves, no tits.  Trust me.  Fucking two inches of padding in her damned bra.  Miracle, push-up, whatever.  If I wanted to date a holocaust victim, I would have."

Mack said nothing, just watched him as she swallowed pill after pill, having finally gotten into the routine.

"You, though," he said, glancing away, waiting for her to empty the glass.  "Have curves in all the right places.  You look like Aphrodite, Venus de Milo, or what a woman should look like."

"You're fucked in the head."

"Nope."  He grabbed the glass and set it on the counter.  "And no shower tonight or the pigment won't set.  Go change."

"You ever think about how strange this is?" Mack asked as she walked into the other room.  "You've already picked my naked body up off the floor.  You are feeding and medicating me how ever many times a day.  It's kinda like I'm your pet."

"You come on command?" he joked.

She spun, her mouth open in shock, then started laughing.  From the look on his face, Ryan didn't realize what he said until he heard her giggles.

"I meant - " he lifted his hands, then started laughing.  "Oh shit, that was bad," he managed.

"Oh yeah," Mack agreed.  She turned back to the bedroom, then paused.  "Ryan?"

"Yours are on the left," he said.

"I thought I was moving upstairs?"

"Eventually, if you want to."  He sat on the couch with a heavy sigh.  "Your bed is up there."

"Where's the stuff from my closet?"

"Door on the left side of the bed."

She made her way over and opened it, seeing a long, deep closet that was barely half full with all of her clothes.  "That's huge."

"Third floor doesn't have one as nice.  I happen to have two."

She flipped through the clothes and found the top she was looking for, pulling it off the hanger and folding it.  Moving back into the bedroom, she lay it on her dresser, then opened her top drawer, grabbing a short nightgown.  Glancing once at the open doors between the bedroom and where Ryan sat, she stripped, then pulled the soft satin over her head.  Ryan sure acted like he thought she was sexy, so she had nothing to hide, right?

With that thought in her mind, she walked back to the door.  "Coming to bed?"

He glanced over - and paused.  "Wow.  I think I like this new arrangement," he said softly.  "Get in bed, Mack."

She did, pulling down the covers and slipping under them as he made his way into the bedroom, turning off lights behind him.  He sat at the foot of the bed and removed his shoes, then made his way into the bathroom, turning off the bedroom light as he passed the switch.  Mack's eyes followed him.  She couldn't help it.  She was a bit nervous, but she also didn't feel bad for the first time since she'd been staying at his place.

The door opened, then that light, too, was out, leaving Ryan walking through pale moonlight.  Her heart was beating a bit too fast when he slid in beside her, but she ignored it, waiting for him to make the next move.

"Promise me something?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Yeah."

"You aren't just doing this because you think you should?  I mean," he sighed, but reached out to trace the line of her arm.  "Mack?"

"I'm not," she said, grabbing his hand.  She held it in hers and pressed the back against her chest, knowing that he could feel her heart hammering in her chest.  "Ryan, you're nothing but perfect.  Unbelievably perfect.  I cried on your shoulder and ended up with the best thing I've ever known."

She kissed the back of his hand, then released it, reaching for him.  Her mouth found his just as his arms wrapped around her, and he rolled on his back, pulling her across his chest.  She knew he had more experience at this than she did, and felt intimidated but excited at the same time.  He'd put her in control, and Mack wanted nothing more than to feel his mouth again.

She kissed him, and his arms caressed the line of her body.  One hand made tender curves along the back of her thigh, teasing the hem of her night gown while the other pulled her closer, holding her to him.  She felt his muscles flex under her hand and kissed him again, hearing him moan softly as his tongue sought hers. 

Her hand moved lower, across his smooth chest, down the side of his ribs, following the lines of his abdomen.  As her fingers brushed the soft material at his waist, he sucked in a quick breath and pushed her over, his hand grabbing her wrist, pinning her beneath him.  His hips dented the mattress beside her.

His mouth didn't stop.  They traced a line down her throat.  Mack was breathing hard, her body wanting to be closer, but his hands refused to let go.  His lips teased her collar bones, her shoulders, her neck, then her mouth.  She gasped for breath and pulled at her arm one more time.

"I can't let you go," he said against her lips.  "Sweetie.  God.  If you touch me like that again, I don't know if I can stop."

"Don't," she begged, leaning forward to find his mouth, her entire body aching for him.

He responded, the fingers of one hand twined in hers, the other clasped around her wrist, his chest just grazing hers, sliding the soft satin across her breasts.  Except for his hands, he was so gentle, each touch seducing her as their mouths danced over each other's bodies.

"I can't," he whispered again.  "God, you are beautiful."

"Ryan," she pleaded, closing her eyes. 

"No," he said, but there was no conviction behind it.  Only the feel of his hands was still strong.  "I won't hurt you, Mack."  He kissed her again, passionately and breathlessly, then pulled away.

She moaned, her heart was still pounding, and every nerve in her body begged for his touch.  He took a long shuddering breath, then released her, rolling onto his back.  "Damn," he breathed.  "You're like heroin."

"Addictive?" she asked, rolling onto his chest.  She could feel his heart beating nearly as hard as hers.

"Yeah," he said.  "I could kiss you for hours, baby, but I'm not going to be so good at stopping."

"Me, either," she agreed.  "So where does that leave us?"

He laughed.  "Sexually frustrated."

"Two months," she whispered softly into his chest. 

"Or more," he groaned.

Laying on his shoulder, she allowed her hand to slowly move down his chest, feeling no softness anywhere.  As her fingers trailed lower, she said softly, "You know..."

"No."  He grabbed her hand.  "Mack, those nurses?  They like to talk to me."

"I bet," she teased.

"Just listen," he begged.  "Radiation burns.  Your skin is pink and felt like a sunburn this morning.  Baby, same thing for everything inside.  I can't even get you off without causing you pain.  It's not just the skin outside, it's all of it.  You try to have an orgasm, and you'll be in tears, and probably end up bleeding."

"I know," she said.  "They warned me."