Tyler (12 page)

But she doesn’t need
me
. I have to remember that. Not push her again. She deserves better than me.

I drop my head on my folded arms on top of the desk. Goddammit, I’m so tired. Of everything. Maybe it’s time to leave here. How long will James hold my job back in Chicago? Has he given it away already to the temp he hired? It wouldn’t surprise me.

You said you wouldn’t quit so easily. Is that all you got?

I groan. It’s the lack of sleep, the nightmares. They haven’t hit me so hard in years. Don’t know what’s happening to me. Must be this place, this town.

The door chimes, and I grudgingly straighten in my seat, trying to sort out my thoughts and fasten a smile on my face for the customers.

I blink stupidly.
Shit.

“Erin?” I whisper, my mind unable to process what my eyes are seeing. “What are you doing here?”

I thought she’d vanish, never come back. A knot forms in my throat.
Dammit.
She looks so sexy, with her short skirt and snug black sweater, her dark hair loose on her shoulders and her eyes sparkling. Her jacket is unbuttoned, giving me a full view of her curvy body.

I’m hard as a rock before she even approaches the desk. Her breasts are perfectly outlined underneath her thin sweater, and it’s not until she clears her throat that I realize I’m staring at them.

I raise my gaze to her face, and immediately I zero in on her lush lips.

Which are forming words.

“Tyler. Let’s talk,” she says, and nods toward the back of the shop.

Her voice is low, and somehow it gets me even harder, so hard I’m not even sure I can walk. “What are you doing, Erin?” I manage, strangled.

“What does it look like?” She tugs at the neckline of her sweater, exposing her golden skin, and breathing becomes a conscious effort.

“I, uh.” I swallow and try again. “You want to talk?”

“Yes.” She places a hand on her hip and tucks her long hair behind an ear with the other, the silver hoops she wears glinting.

Goddammit, how can she transform such an innocent gesture into a turn on? “Okay,” I say and glance around the room. Nobody’s waiting. No appointments penciled in. The few customers already here are in the booths getting inked. “Let’s go.”

I stagger around the desk and follow her to the bathroom. Her hot little ass sways before me, hypnotizing. My mouth is dry. I can’t believe this is happening.

Why is she doing this? I thought she was disgusted with me last time. I wasn’t able to help myself, and I don’t think this time I’ll be any better at controlling my need for her.

She walks into the bathroom, and I follow, snapping the door shut behind me. She’s already sitting on the counter, her legs spread. Her warm gaze holds mine as she reaches down between them—and I have to see what she’s doing, but I can’t break the hold of those copper-and-gold eyes on me.

Then her lips part, and her eyes half-close, and I see she’s pulled her skirt up higher, exposing her black lace panties. Her hand is resting on her thigh, her fingers so close to the lace it makes my own fingers twitch.

Fucking hell.
I lean against the wall not to fall as the rest of my blood floods to my dick, making me dizzy. I watch avidly as her fingers slide down and slip under the lace. This is torture.

Suddenly I can’t take it any longer. I push off the wall and press myself between her legs. I grab her ankles, encased in leather boots, and hook them around my back. She yips and moans when I grind myself against her.

My eyes roll up in my head with the pleasure of it. This girl’s driving me crazy. I trail my hands lower, under her short skirt, tug at her panties—

Her hands on mine stop me. “My turn,” she says, her voice breathy, and I stare at her, my mind blank.

“What?”

Her hands drop to my jeans where my aching dick is trapped. The mere brush of her thumbs over it makes me hiss. Can’t remember the last time I found release, now that the fantasy of her isn’t enough.

I’m ready to come in my pants, and she isn’t even touching my cock.
Fuck.

Her hands wander higher, under my shirt, dragging it up. Every brush of her fingers on my skin sends small explosions of pleasure down my nerve endings. She pulls it up while locking her feet around my back and dragging me closer, pressing me against her lace-covered core. In a haze, I raise my arms and help her pull my T-shirt off, impatient to feel more. More of her.

Her eyes dilate, and a soft gasp escapes her lips as her fingertips touch the pendant she gave me, the silver tree of life, and then trail on my tats. They linger on the word carved into my chest, then move down to the vertical scar on my abdomen and lower, to the waistband of my jeans.

I can hardly breathe when she slowly unzips my fly and pushes the fabric down around my hips, exposing my black briefs. I can’t… can’t think, can’t remember the last time a woman just touched me like this. Ever since leaving this town, since leaving Erin, it’s only been quick fucks, me in control, pushing my dick into some random chick and taking my pleasure.

Nobody has thought about giving me pleasure, and it’s tightening the knots inside my chest in a way that’s both painful and amazing.

Her graceful little hands come closer and closer to my cock that’s trying to push its way out of my briefs, bent painfully sideways, and I realize my first such time won’t last long. My balls are drawn excruciatingly tight and high, and my dick feels like it’s about to explode.

“Erin…” Her name leaves my mouth before I realize it. She draws her lower lip into her mouth, and the way those small white teeth are biting into the plump flesh makes me groan.

Then she cups my erection through the thin cotton of my briefs, and I gasp, grasping at my last thread of control not to come yet.

“You’re so hard,” she murmurs. “Is your girlfriend not taking care of you?”

I frown, trying to process her words. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“No?” Her fingers dip under the elastic of my briefs, tugging. The fabric catches on my dick, and I moan helplessly.

“No.”

“Wasn’t she calling you on your cell?”

Christ, I told her about Marlene? “Not my girlfriend,” I hiss.

She tugs harder and my dick springs free. My breath comes out in a rush. Sparks ignite behind my balls.

Then she wraps her hand around my cock and that’s all it takes. I can’t even spare the energy to feel embarrassed as I jerk and groan out loud, my dick pulsing in her hand, shooting ropes of white semen up my chest, all over my tats and scars. The first waves are so intense they’re painful, but then the pleasure crests, and it’s all I can do not to shout out as the orgasm goes on and on.

God, it’s been too damn long. Too damn fake, all this time, the sensations washed out and muted. This… this is the real thing, the gut-wrenching, breath-stopping, howl-inducing kind of orgasm I can barely remember ever having before.

It finally stops, and I can feel my knees giving out. I stumble backward until I hit the wall and slide down, my mouth still open as I gasp for breath. I thump my head back, hoping to clear the haze.

“Are you okay?” Erin crouches down next to me, her eyes scanning over my body.

I want to laugh, euphoria lifting me high like a drug. “More than okay.”

“Is this what you need?” she asks. “What you’re used to now?”

Fuck.
I close my eyes for a second, trying to understand her question.

“Is this what you came back for? Is this all you want?”

My eyes snap open. “What?” My cum’s cooling on my chest, and the euphoria is wearing off as reality reforms around me.

“I’m not a kid,” she says. “You don’t need to protect me from life’s truths. I can take it. And I need to know. Because if this is all you want from me, then I’m not interested.”

The denial is on the tip of my tongue, but I force it back down. A weight crushes my lungs. I’ve let her down, again. “Why are you here, then? Why did you do this?”

“I have my life, my studies. I want to be a teacher. I want to find someone to love and be happy. What do
you
want?”

Someone’s knocking on the door. Erin opens it, and Rafe steps inside. I can barely hear his angry words directed at me, about not doing this again, about being so loud the customers heard.

Her words buzz in my ears even as she walks out, following Rafe, and I’m left alone to clean up the mess I’ve made of myself.

Erin

Rafe sends me weird looks as I walk through the shop. Of course he is. This time I was the one who led Tyler into the bathroom, took charge and left him on the floor.

I’m in control.
Right.
When I think of his powerful chest and shoulders, the ripped stomach, the lean hips and strong legs… His arousal, so big and solid. The image of his release, of his face twisting with something like pain… The way he surrendered to pleasure, and to me, the knowledge I did that to him, I made him feel so much...

God.
Flames lick my cheeks. I want him like never before. What was I thinking, trying to turn the tables on him? I got nothing out of Tyler and tortured myself by wanting him, plus now I feel like a bitch for delivering that ultimatum when all I really wanted was to kiss away the sadness on his face.

At least I saw the scars. My hands shake as I fish my car keys out of my purse and press the unlock button.

‘
Bastard.’
Carved clearly across his chest, partly covered by a big tattoo of skulls and wings. And the vertical scar below… Nasty. Then more tats of skulls on his arms, and my name… My name on his forearm. My pendant around his neck.

Tears prick my eyes as I settle into the car and close the door. How to deal with this? He didn’t forget about me, that much is clear. And although he’s trying to push me away, I’m still in love with him.

This is so complicated. My anger’s fading, leaving me restless and wondering… if maybe I’m seeing this all wrong. Approaching it in the worst possible way because I feel like I’m the injured party, when in fact I’m also keeping secrets from him. Big secrets that I’m not ready to divulge, because I’m not sure how he’ll react.

Because I’m scared he’ll run away again, and now that he’s back I don’t want him to leave. I want another chance.

Please. Please, one more chance.
I’ll try not to screw it up again. Though, without knowing why he left, how can I assume he’ll stay?

I bury my face in my hands for a long moment, drawing a deep breath. It’s Friday. I need to go back home, see Jax, clear my head. Then perhaps I’ll know what to do.

Tessa’s waiting for me at our favorite café, her long legs encased in tight pants and her hair up in a chignon.

“Hey. What’s up?” She sips at her latte. “Boy giving you trouble again?”

I shrug. She pushes toward me her notes from her latest Spanish lesson, and I glance at them, my mind a million miles away. The waitress walks up to our table, and I order coffee, then look back down at the notes. No idea what I’m reading.

“Earth to Erin.” Tessa snickers from across the little table. “Will you tell me what happened?”

Absolutely no way. Just the memory sends heat up my cheeks.

“Is it Tyler? Or Jax? Hmm?” She winks over her tall latte glass, a white foam mustache on her upper lip.

A giggling fit suddenly grips me. Jesus, I’ve been lying to my best friends about who I really am, who Jax is and why I live the way I do, and I blame Tyler for keeping his secrets?

Secrets that may have to do with those scars. Terrible secrets, while mine aren’t that sort.

“When are we gonna meet this mysterious Jax?” Tessa asks, right on cue. She pouts. “You talk and talk about him but don’t really tell us anything, and you spend most weekends with him, but he never visits you? I haven’t even heard his voice, ever. I’m starting to think you made him up.”

Sobering, I pull out my cell.
Yeah.
Time to stop living a lie. I dial the number of my parents’ house.

“Who are you calling?” Tessa asks.

“Jax.” Time I did this. No matter if my palms are sweating. “You wanted to talk to him.”

Tessa squeals, earning us curious looks from the other customers. “For real?” Her eyes are shining.

“For real.” Will she hate me when she knows the truth?

The phone rings several times before Mom picks up. “
Digame
?”

“Mama. It’s me, Erin.”

“
Mijita
.” I can hear the big smile in her voice. “How are you?”

“Fine, Mom. I think I’ll come over this weekend, if that’s okay.”

“How can you ask that?” She gets all affronted whenever I say it, and it makes me snicker. “We wait for you, always.”

“Great. Is Jax there? Can I talk to him?”

“Sure, honey. Wait.”

I hear her shout for Jax as Tessa stares at me, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.

Then Jax says hello, and I forget about Tess for a moment, my chest expanding with happiness at his voice.

“How are you, baby?” I ask.

He laughs. “Baby. I’m fine, and you?”

“Fine. How was your day?”

Tessa sticks her tongue out at me. “My god, I told you! Gross. You totally talk to him as if he’s a three-year-old and I bet he does, too!”

I shake my head and say, “Jax, baby, here’s a friend who wants to say hi.”

I pass the phone to Tessa, looking one last time at his photo on my cell screen: his dark eyes, his sweet little face, his wild black hair. Tessa was right. Jax does look a lot like Tyler.

Jax looks just like his father.

***

“Need anything else?” the waitress asks, and I order another cup of coffee.

Tessa’s staring somewhere past her latte, which is going cold. It’s been some good ten minutes since she passed the cell back to me, her face kind of pale and her blue eyes round as saucers.

“Tess?” I tap two fingers on the table in front of her. “Is everything okay?”

“Okay?” She leans forward, her eyes focusing on me. “
Okay?
Question-answer time. Who the hell is Jax? He’s not your boyfriend. That much is clear. He also isn’t an adult. He’s a little kid. Oh my God, he
is
three years old, isn’t he?”