Solitude (Artistic Pricks Ink #3) (19 page)

BOOK: Solitude (Artistic Pricks Ink #3)
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“You give good sexual innuendo,” I say, shivering in my seat. “That dirty mouth of yours could be a national treasure. Except, I have no intention of sharing it.”

“Good to know.”

Signaling, Mitch takes the exit ramp. I read the street signs, trying to figure out where we are. Pulling into a large lot, I see a tall building and it hits me. “Your mom?” I ask, when he pulls into a parking spot and shuts off the engine. “You brought me to meet Hannah?”

Shifting in the seat to face me, he nods. “Yeah, you okay with that?”

“That’s pretty important, Mitch,” I say nervously. I know how much Hannah means to him. His mother is the only blood relative he has and, according to Luke, they have always been very close.

“So are you,” he replies, taking my hand and pressing a kiss to the inside of my wrist. “Come on, she’ll love you.”

Nodding, I slip my hand from his and climb from the car. Mitch leads me through the lot and into the building where he signs us in as visitors. Taking his hand, I walk with him as he navigates the halls. All the doors are closed, only the numbered plaques beside each one give you any indication that you’re even moving at all.

Stepping up to a door, Mitch turns the knob. The smell of garlic and sauce hits me the minute we step inside. “Ma?” Closing the door behind him, Mitch takes my hand. “We’re here.”

“We?” Turning around, she wipes her hands on her black and red apron. Her eyes light up the minute she lays eyes on us. “Just in time, too. I swear, only my son can smell the sauce the second it comes to a boil,” she says, meeting my eyes as she crosses the room. “So, you must be Shelby,” she says, stopping in front of me. “Makes me very happy to be able to finally thank you in person for the flowers.”

“I wasn’t aware you knew I was the one who sent them,” I inform her. “All I know is Mitch said he messed up and I know his stubborn ass well enough to know he’d never come groveling with flowers like you deserved,” I say with a shrug. “The least I could do is make sure you got the flowers.”

Her eyes dance with amusement, her gaze drifting to Mitch. “She’s a spitfire. You need someone who doesn’t take your shit,” she says, patting his arm. “Hang on to this one, I like her.”

“Hi, Ma.” Leaning down, Mitch presses a kiss to her cheek. “Smells amazing in here.”

“It should,” she sighs, patting his face. “Making homemade sauce in this small kitchen is a miraculous feat.” Looking between him and me, she smiles. “Tonight is special, though, so it’s worth it.” Reaching out, she grabs my free hand. “Mitchell, why don’t you get the serving dish from the counter? Shelby and I can chat.”

Nodding, he squeezes my hand reassuringly before releasing me and heading over to the kitchen. Hannah leads me toward a small, four seat table, angled in the corner, that is decorated with red and gold linens and white china. A basket of homemade garlic knots sits in the center with a bowl of salad beside a pitcher of ice tea.

Taking a seat, I stare at the perfectly set table as Hannah takes the chair across from me. “It isn’t everyday my son brings a girl to meet me. Only happened one other time. Seeing as how I know you’re aware of all of that, you can see how I view this as a very special occasion.” I nod. Pouring a glass of tea, she hands it to me before pouring two more.

“Dinner is served,” Mitch says, placing a steaming serving dish full of Chicken Parmesan on the table. Taking the seat beside me, he squeezes my knee. Taking the serving spoon, he scoops a helping onto his mother’s plate, then my own, before finally serving himself.

Slicing my fork through the tender chicken, I bite back a moan as soon as the taste hits my tongue. Mitch doesn’t hide his enthusiasm, inhaling pasta and chicken between bites of bread. Hannah laughs, shaking her head. “Typical Taylor, the manners go out the window as soon the food hits his plate.” Carefully using her spoon to wrap pasta around her fork, Hannah looks at me with a smile. “So, Shelby, tell me more about this pole dancing exercise class business. Is there an age limit?”

Mitch chokes on his food. “Jesus, Ma,” he breathes, reaching for his glass.

“What?” she asks, reaching for a piece of bread. “It sounds like a fun way to burn off all the pasta and sauce calories. Your father always told me I had the legs of a dancer,” she laughs, her fingers brushing over the watch on her wrist. “The old fool.”

The rest of dinner goes smoothly. I explain a lot of our plans for the studio to Hannah. I tell her all about how Ki, Leah, and I want to cater to all ages and even offer a maternity class and other things besides classes only involving the pole. She tells me about her boyfriend, William, and how she wished he could be here tonight.

“His family had been planning this trip to visit him for quite some time,” she tells me as I help her carry dishes into the kitchen. “Next week, though.”

“Next week?” I ask, looking over at Mitch where he stands leaning against the doorway.

“Family dinner night, every Monday.”

Hannah turns and takes the plates from me after placing her stack in the sink. “It’s not as glamourous as it sounds, but it’s my excuse to see my favorite son every week.”

“I’m your only son, Ma.” Wrapping his arms around me from behind, Mitch laughs.

“Still, no less true,” she counters.

After saying goodbye to Hannah, we head to my place where Mitch gives me all of two minutes to grab some things before he drives us to his condo. He seems lighter, happy even. The smile hasn’t left his face since we stepped inside Hannah’s front door.

“Thank you for tonight, Shel,” Mitch says, pulling into the spot in front of his condo.

“I was surprised,” I admit. “You tend to keep parts of your life compartmentalized. I didn’t expect to meet Hannah tonight, but I’m glad you took me with you.”

“I don’t mean to,” he says, knitting his brows together. Reaching across the console, he takes my hand. “I’m trying to figure this out. I’m fighting against the tide, trying to change how I’ve been for what feels like forever. I’m so afraid of losing how good this feels. That, one day, I’ll wake up and this will have all been just a dream.”

“I know, honey.” His eyes close when I reach out and brush my fingers over his cheek. “You’re not fighting alone. I’m gloved up and ready to kick serious ass.” Balling my other hand into a fist, I hold it up. His eyes open and he smiles. “I’ve got a hell of an arm.”

“Hell yeah, you do, baby.” Mitch winces, no doubt remembering one of the numerous times I have used it on him.

Reaching behind him, he grabs my bags. Opening the door, he turns and looks at me with a devilish grin. “Now, you’ve got all of ten seconds to get that fine ass of yours in my house and naked before I bend you over the hood of your car.”

“Nothing says romance like anal.”

Fuck. My entire body trembles at the thought. The feel of being pressed to the cool metal of the hood while Mitch’s heat envelops my back. His cock driving into my ass as his balls slap into me.

Hello instantaneous orgasm.

Mitch laughs, climbing out of the car, he makes his way to my door and opens it. “Come on,” he says, tugging on my hand. “As hot as it would be to fuck your ass on the hood of that car, I don’t want to revisit the police station any time soon.”

Giggling, I shut the door and follow him up the walk. Stepping inside, I make a mental note to ask Ki about those road trips to the desert she makes with Luke every weekend.

 

Chapter Twenty-One
Mitch

 

I had no doubt my Ma would love Shelby. They are a lot alike. Both of them are full of fire and spunk, keeping me constantly on my toes. For weeks, Ma had been badgering me to bring the girl she knew was responsible for sending the flowers. The stubborn old woman didn’t let up, said she just knew Shelby was special.

I couldn’t agree more.

It just felt right with her there. Shelby was a piece that, though I didn’t know was missing, I can’t imagine going back to a family dinner without her. It was clear that Ma had missed the lighthearted laughter and easy conversation. There hasn’t been a lot of that in the last year or two.

Without even realizing it, Shelby has begun repairing something that I broke, by pushing away my mother, after Becky died.

Slowly but surely, she’s been putting me back together when I never thought it was possible.

Dropping her bags in the chair, I round the coffee table like a prowling panther. Shelby kicks out of her shoes, her fingers reaching for the hem of her shirt. “See something you like?” she asks, tugging it over her head revealing her breasts encased in black lace.

Nodding, I step closer. Stopping right in front of her, I trace the lace on her chest with my fingertips. She bites her lip, watching my every move. Her nipples taunt me, pressing against the fabric, more and more, with every rise and fall of her chest.

Bringing up my other hand, I palm both of her breasts through the satin and lace. She moans and, just like that, my cock is rock hard. Reaching out, she steadies herself by gripping the belt loops on my jeans. Unable to help myself, I grip the lace in my hands. Ripping it from her body, I toss it to the floor, licking my lips in anticipation.

“Asshole,” she moans when I suck one of her hardening nipples into my mouth. “I just bought that bra.”

“Add it to my tab,” I murmur over her skin, kissing my way to her other breast. “I need you naked.”

Shelby’s hands cup my face, pushing me away. She slams my back to the wall, knocking some decorative photo of the Vegas Strip at night to the floor, the glass cracking inside the frame. “Guess I’m evening things up,” she laughs, kicking it out of her way. Dropping to her knees, she pops open the button on my jeans. Yanking my jeans down my thighs, she frees my cock from the tight confines of the denim.

“Mmm, I love commando days,” Shelby moans, pressing a kiss to the tip. She looks up at me through her lashes, the blue in her eyes blazing.

“You’re a goddamn tease, woman.”

“It’s like you don’t even know me.” Bracing her hands on my thighs, she licks her lips before taking my cock into her mouth.

The heat of her mouth causes my hips to jolt. One of her hands comes up, her fingers wrapping around the base of my dick while she works me in and out of her mouth, slowly. She hums around me, flattening her tongue to tease the sensitive skin and every barbell as she takes me to the back of her throat.

My hands go into her hair, tugging at the strands in a plea for more. She’s fucking killing me and she knows it. I’ve been dying for this all day long. Trying to tattoo with a raging hard on is far from easy. I could feel Shelby watching me, undressing me with her eyes, while I worked. I don’t know who it was more painful for, me or the kid on my table. He spent most of the three-hour session crying; there were times, I was right there with him.

Releasing her grip on my cock, Shelby relaxes her jaw and grabs onto my thighs again. Fisting her hair, I watch my dick slide in and out of her mouth as I fuck her face. She stares up at me, her eyes hooded. My balls tighten and, as much as I want to come while thrusting into that ass of hers, it will have to wait.

My hips jerk as I thrust wildly into her mouth. Shelby’s nails dig into my thighs, sending me over the edge. “Fuck!” I shout, filling her mouth with my release.

Sitting back on her heels, Shelby lets me slip from her mouth. “Been dyin’ to do that all day.” Running her finger over her lip, she sucks my come from her fingers. “Now, I’ll get naked,” she informs me, pushing to her feet.

“‘Bout fuckin’ time,” I say kicking out of my shoes and jeans.

Stopping in the doorway to my bedroom, my eyes are fixed on her as she pushes her jeans over her hips and lets them fall to the floor. The first time I was in this room with her, I was falling apart and totally breaking inside. I never thought anything could make me feel this way again. Now, I don’t know how I didn’t see it coming. So much has changed since then.

My eyes take in her body, eating up every inch before I do the very same with my hands and mouth. Stepping out of her jeans, she turns to face me and my eyes stop on her panties. The bright red fabric is covered in silver sequin music notes, the words ‘
just eat it
’ written in black across the front.

“You know,” I laugh, walking over to her, tugging off my shirt and tossing it as I go. Stepping up to her, I cup her pussy, pressing the heel of my hand to her clit. Her hands wrap around my shoulders, her lips parting as she breathes. “I’d love to, but that’s only one part of my plan.”

Rocking her hips into my hand, she leans in to kiss me. I thrust my tongue into her mouth, starving for her taste. My other hand comes up, cupping the back of her head so that I can control the kiss. Every ounce of tonight is for her. I want to make her feel even a fraction of what she makes me feel every day.

Easing her back to the mattress, I kiss my way down her body. “Do you trust me?” I ask, before circling her belly button with my tongue.

“Yes,” she moans without hesitation, arching her back greedily.

Hopping from the bed, I slip a pillow behind her head and grab the bag from the floor. I have never gone shopping at a sex store, but after Shelby tied me to the bed, I went online to order something to beat her at her own dirty little game. Removing the cuffs from the packaging, I unlace the Velcro and wrap one around her thigh. “This is going to be fun,” I say, securing the now tightened thigh cuff to the rope I tied to my footboard the other day when I started planning this.

She stares wide eyed at me as I do the same to the other leg. When I’m done, she is secured to the bed, spread wide for me, with nowhere to go. “Look at you and your fancy straps,” she teases. “Now what?”

“Touch yourself,” I say, running my hands up her legs, stopping on her knees. “I want to watch you make yourself come. Then,” I say, grinning when her body shivers. “I’m going to lick that pussy until you do it again. Once you’re shaking and begging me to stop, sweetness, I’m going to fuck you. Every piercing on my cock will rub inside you, with every thrust, while all you can do is lie there and enjoy the ride.”

“Damn” she whispers. “You and that filthy fucking mouth.”

BOOK: Solitude (Artistic Pricks Ink #3)
7.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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