Perfect Collision (9 page)

“Katze, look at me. I mean it.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb and looked at those full lips. “You’re really beautiful.”

He managed to tear his eyes from her mouth and got lost in her eyes instead. The impact of what he saw made him inhale sharply. Every emotion on the planet was on display in her golden eyes. He’d never fucking seen anything like it. Before he had any idea of how the hell it happened, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. He hesitated, since she didn’t seem to move, but when a small moan escaped, her and she tilted her head—he closed his eyes and kissed her properly. He found her tongue, and if he’d thought she smelled nice, it was nothing compared to how good she tasted.

When her hands came up to his chest, he got slightly worried she’d push him away. Instead she fisted her hands in his hoodie and pulled him towards her with another one of those sexy as fuck moans. His pants could’ve exploded from how hard he got when he heard that moan, and he thrust his tongue inside her. It was unbelievable, and when her arms circled his waist, she once again just... seemed to fit with him. Like she was supposed to be there.

While exploring her mouth, he let go of her cheeks, hooked one arm around her shoulders, and ever so carefully moved his other hand along her back. Slowly, to make sure that she was okay with it. He just wished she’d had her hair loose; he would’ve loved to run his fingers through her hair.

When his hand eventually landed on her behind she did another one of those fucking moans, and his body simply did a brain override and thrust his hips against her. Obviously, that meant he was shoving his rock hard dick against her, and she froze. He stopped, leaned back, and those were the seconds his brain needed to reload and ask him what the fuck he thought was doing.

“Fuck! Vi, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She looked up at him while taking a step back. “No.” She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Please, you’re— Shit! You’re too young, I shouldn’t have done that.” It almost killed him when he saw the shine in her eyes slowly disappearing. “Vi... it's not... I don't...” He had no idea what to say, and every fucking word out of his mouth seemed to kill the shine in a little more.

“Really. It’s okay. I get it.” She turned around, bent down and took the bag from the trash. “Dad’ll be here soon, you can leave.”

He'd fucked it up, and he already knew he'd fucked it up in more ways than one, but had no idea how to fix it. He gave it another try, though. If everything else went to hell, he wanted her to understand it wasn't her fault.

“Vi, listen... this isn’t on you.”

“Please, please leave.” She still had her back to him, the tension in her shoulders was obvious. Everything about her was on edge, as if she was using every muscle in her body to stop herself from turning around. Mac had never felt more like an ass than he did at that moment. “Please.”

“Okay, I’ll leave,” he finally said. “But, Vi, this isn’t your fault, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

He was dying to hug her, just do something to comfort her. He also still wanted to do a lot of other things that involved tongues and a hard-on. Because as usual, his dick was missing all the fucking memos. Like the one about her being Bear's much too young and inexperienced daughter!

With a sigh, he turned around and left.

-o0o-

Bear walked into Wicked Ink, had a quick word with Sami, and then went into the room where Vi most often worked.

The place had three big rooms in the back with two work stations each. Three of them were for the resident artists—Sami, Joe and Chris—one was for Trixie, and the remaining two were for visiting artists. They had those coming by quite often, but when Vi was working it was in one of the stations for the visiting artists. Those looked very different from the others, since it was just empty spaces as opposed to the other very personalized cubicles.

She was leaning over an old desk, deeply focused on her drawing—as always. His heart swelled, and he stood there watching her, reluctant to disturb her.

“Hey, Katze,” he said, and his heart plummeted when she looked up. He knew that face—she was sad about something. “What’s wrong, baby girl?”

“Nothing, Dad. I’m just really tired. Ready to go?”

“Yeah.” He walked up to her and picked her up in a tight hug. He knew she was lying, she wasn't fine, but he'd let her off the hook for now. “Got any jeans? It’s getting cold.”

“Yes. I’ll take a sweatshirt from the shop, too,” she mumbled into his chest.

She hugged him tight, and that's when he knew for sure something was off, but she wouldn’t talk until she was ready no matter what he did or said.

“I love you, girl. You know that.”

“I do. I love you, too.”

“Was Mac happy with the work?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

They walked out to the front room once she'd change into her jeans, and she asked Trixie to give her one of the Wicked Ink sweatshirts.

Bear liked Trixie, and he loved how protective she was about Vi. That made him accept the fact that she talked about sex around Vi in the same casual matter as others discussed what to have for lunch.

“Hey, Bear!” Trixie said with a big smile. “Would you let her do a piercing?”

Instead of answering Trixie, he turned to Vi. “Would you want one?”

“Depends,” Vi started, “I don’t think I want one in the face. I like snake bites and spider bites, but my mouth isn't wide enough for them. It would look weird.”

“Maybe,” Trixie nodded, “but it doesn’t have to be the face. Could do a bellybutton?”

Vi made a grimace, and Bear laughed, because it was a no-brainer what her expression meant. “That’s a no.”

“It’s just... have you seen the girls who do those?” she tried to explain, looking at Trixie.

“Hey!” Trixie protested. “I have one.”

“Yeah, but you have others and tattoos, that makes it look different. Just a bellybutton... no.”

“I’ll give you one for that. Nipple?”

That made Bear flinch, and when he looked at Vi he flinched again. She was seriously considering it? And what would he say if she—fuck! How did he end up in this situation?

“Probably that or tongue,” she said thoughtfully.

Tongue? Jesus fucking christ!

He’d expected her to ask for a tattoo a long time ago. The lack of regulation which allowed her to be a tattoo apprentice in Arizona, also meant that a fourteen-year-old could get a tattoo as long as a parent was present. Vi hadn’t asked, though, and a piercing could be easily removed as opposed to ink. But nipple? Why the fuck would she want that? Who the
fuck
was seeing her nipples?

“How much would nipple freak you out, Dad?”

He took a deep breath. “It’s freaking me out,” he finally admitted.

“It’s okay. Forget it,” she said and took his hand. “Let's go home.”

He could seriously count on one hand's fingers the number of times she’d asked him for something. She'd never done anything too stupid, the violet hair being the only exception, and that turned out good. So he was seriously considering letting her do that fucking piercing. Not like he'd have to see the damn thing. He halted and pulled her back.

“Hang on, honey. Do you want it?”

“Dad, it's okay, you don’t have to. It’s not important.”

“I didn’t ask if it was important. I know shit like that most often isn’t important to you. I asked if you
wanted
it.”

“You’d let me?”

“It’s not a tattoo. You can take it out if you change your mind, and no one would even know you had one. A mark wouldn’t show there, not like if you did it in your face.”

That’s when Trixie spoke up. “Listen, kiddo. I won't do it right away. It’s late, you’ve done ink, you’re tired, and you haven’t eaten properly. Go home, get a good night's sleep and think about it. If you still want it tomorrow, your dad’ll take you out for a big meal, and I’ll do it after that.
If
I'm convinced you really want it.”

That’s another reason why he loved Trixie. She cared about his girl; she wouldn’t pressure her into doing anything.

“Okay. That'll give Dad some time, too,” Vi smiled. “See you tomorrow, Trix.”

“See you tomorrow, JB. Keep those knees tight together.”

That made him laugh. He threw his arm around his girl's shoulders and took her to his bike.

-o0o-

I should probably have been thinking about the nipple piercing I may, or may not, be allowed to do the next day.

I wasn't.

I was thinking about Mac and the kiss. I’d liked it, a lot. It had all felt so great, and then I did that schoolgirl thing and totally overreacted when he pressed his—

Fuck! I couldn’t even
think
the word! I was such a fucking baby. No wonder he stopped. How much of a turn-off must that have been? Me freezing up like that—making it obvious how inexperienced I was. Because I was.

I groaned with embarrassment just thinking about it and pulled the pillow over my head, holding it down to muffle any sounds. I didn't want Dad to hear me. I didn't want to talk about it. It was all so fucking embarrassing!

Mac was right, I was such a kid. It'd been so great, and I totally ruined it by being a baby about a...
Dick,
fuck! It wasn’t that hard to say it!

Dick, cock, penis, schlong, meat sword, boomstick, knob, manhood, prick, pecker, pork sword.

I mumbled the words into the pillow. No wonder I’d gone all pre-teen on him, I couldn’t even
say
the fucking words. Just barely whisper them—into a pillow! How pathetic was that?

I was definitely staying away from the clubhouse for a while. I’d die of humiliation if I saw him now. It wasn't just how I reacted. I must’ve sucked. I’d never even kissed anyone before. Maybe like pecks. I’d done that once with Fred Jones, a guy in my class, but I was, like, ten at the time. I'd found out later he only did it 'cause he lost a bet.

Lisa had told me to practice kissing on my hand, but it sounded so damn stupid I hadn’t done it. Or, I tried once, and it felt as weird and stupid as it sounded. Maybe I should've kept trying. If I hadn’t been so shit at it, he might not have thought I was so childish.

I was so inexperienced, and I didn't really have anyone to help me sort things out. I'd talked a bit to Lisa when she still lived at home, but we didn't talk that often since she'd moved to California. Also, she was Mac's friend, so that would make it weird.

Mom was out of the question, and Edie and I didn't really have
that
kind of relationship.

Trixie would probably be best, and we'd talked a little about sex. She knew a lot and wasn't shy about it. Which was good.

I'd touched myself, and I liked doing it. I wasn't sure if I should like it or even should do it. But it felt good, and I thought I'd had orgasms.

After what had happened today, it was even more embarrassing than usual to think about it, since I quite often fantasized about Mac.

With another groan into the pillow, I allowed myself to remember what his bare upper body looked like. He had a perfect six pack, skinny, but very defined and those muscles on his hips, sort of just... tempted you to look further down.

He was tall. I figured he was at least 6 feet, probably more. Maybe 6’ 1 or 6’ 2. I was just 5’ 5. So he was much taller and six years older than me. He had quite a lot of ink, mostly on his arms. He had the Marauder ink on his back, the same as a lot of the members had. Most of it looked okay, some could use some work, but I wasn't going to mention that to him—not after that kiss.

I loved his light brown, nice eyes, his full beard, and his mouth! His upper lip was kind of thin, but his lower lip was so full, and it had felt so good against mine. Sucking on it had been... yeah.

That kiss, it was... his taste, how his hands felt when he put them on my cheeks, and his arms around me.

He'd said I was beautiful, and it had looked like he meant it. Besides Dad and Lisa, no one had ever said that to me. I'd messed it all up by being childish. He was probably, right at this minute, laughing about how much of a baby I was. Freaking out about feeling his...

Dick
! For fuck's sake, how hard was it to
think
a word?

I had to admit it to myself, if I had trouble with even thinking the word, I was probably just as childish as I feared.

Then I thought about it. Touching it. What he sounded like when he kissed me, and that he might make those sounds if I touched him—and I smiled. I would like to touch it, and watch him while I did. Hear him groan. It had felt kind of big against me. Really hard, too.

And when I thought about those things—how it felt when he kissed me, his six pack, his small hard nipples, his ink—I felt a tingle between my legs. I rubbed my thighs together.

I fished out the sketchbook I kept under my mattress. The secret one, the one not even Dad was allowed to see. For a lot of reasons. The main one being I used it to practice drawing naked people.

The other reason was that it had an alarming number of sketches of Mac. Some of them naked. Quite a few of them, actually. Or at least how I'd pictured him looking naked. I'd realized today I'd been a bit off. He had a lot more muscles than I'd thought.

I knew it was very unlikely he’d ever see me as anything but a little girl. Didn’t mean I couldn’t... fantasize about him a little. And it wasn’t really a bad thing if I touched myself while thinking about him. At least I didn't think so.

I remember exactly what his upper body and nipples looked like. And while I fantasized about licking his nipples, hearing him groan, I moved my imaginary hand over his awesome six pack. Scratching a bit further down, I rubbed his dick outside his pants... eventually unbuttoning his jeans.

My real life hand slipped into my panties, and I was wet. I tickled, circled, and rubbed a little and thought about his fingers touching me while I wrapped my hand around his cock. I wondered what a stiff dick really felt like.

The next day, after I'd done the nipple piercing, I was sitting on the armchair Trixie had in her work room. I held an ice pack against my right boob. Dad had just left, and I was watching her going through her stock. She was going to give me a list of what I needed to order for her.