Home > Summer Love : A Steamy Small Town Romance Anthology(4)

Summer Love : A Steamy Small Town Romance Anthology(4)
Author: Piper Rayne

“All right. Head over to the mirror and see if you like where it’s positioned.” He dodges all eye contact when he speaks, instead he fiddles around with something at his station. I pull my shirt down and remove the towel at the same time then walk over to the mirror, cupping my breast when I pull up my shirt to check it out.

“Looks good,” I say.

He nods, turns away from me and my shoulders sag at how obvious it is that he can’t stand to be around me. I have to make this right, make him understand, so he doesn’t hate me anymore. Even if we can no longer be lovers, maybe we can be friends.

“Hop up.” He pats the table and I do as he says. He goes to hand me the towel again when I lay down and I shake my head. “Take the towel,” he says in a gruff voice.

“I know it’s going to get in your way. It’s fine.” I pull my shirt up and cup my right breast with my left hand in one fell swoop.

He sighs, shakes his head, and turns to reach for his tattoo needle. When he looks back around, he meets my gaze. “I’m sorry about your mom. Never got to tell you that when she passed. But I’m gonna make this nice for you, so don’t worry.”

Tears well in my eyes as the needle meets my skin. He knows. Without me even having to tell him he knows the significance and the purpose of what I’m doing.

Moose must see that I’m upset because the sound of the needle stops and he looks over at me. The look of annoyance no longer on his face. “You okay?”

I nod, lips pressed together.

He doesn’t say anything and goes back to work.

Moose always was a man of few words but being here with him today highlights for me just how much I hate that we’ve become virtual strangers.

 

 

Chapter Four

 

 

Moose

 

 

Hell.

This is pure fucking hell.

Being this close to Reagan again means I’m surrounded by the scent of her cherry blossom body lotion. I have to see and feel the smoothness of her skin as I press the needle. Watch her chest rise and fall with every labored breath.

I’m used to naked chicks on my table, but this isn’t just some broad with her hand over her tit. It’s the one woman who broke my heart.

Back before Reagan’s mom got sick, we went out a few times. I knew she was something special then and how some dumb fuck like me got her to agree to go out I’ll never know. But she did and because I’m not completely stupid, I recognized what an amazing woman she was. We had a connection I’d never felt with anyone before, and I was determined not to screw it up.

Little had I known it would be her that would throw it all away. Citing the fact that she had too much on her plate and needed to concentrate on her mom, she pushed me away and ended things. I tried to tell her that I’d be there to support her but she had none of it. She wanted to be an island of one and there was no room for anyone—especially me.

Then she came knocking on my door seeking comfort. And that’s exactly what I gave her—in the form of multiple orgasms. She’d pop up sporadically over the next few years and I told myself that any part of her was better than no part of her. Until it wasn’t and when it wasn’t we had a blowout and I told her never to come knockin’ on my door again unless she was there for more than just a quick lay.

“I didn’t know you could do watercolors.” Her voice pulls me from my memories.

I shrug a shoulder. “Honey, I can do anythin’ I put my mind to. Not my usual jam but I make it work.” Damn it. How the hell did I let the word honey slip past my lips. It’s what I used to call her back in the day. “So why the rainbow?” I ask to move things along. Maybe she won’t notice my slip.

She goes on to explain the significance of the rainbow and I nod, vaguely remembering her mentioning it to me once.

“This okay?” I ask, having to hover over her to work on the far side of her tattoo.

“Yep.” But her yep sounds more like a yelp.

I think she’s nervous. Or maybe horny.

I swear when I look down sometimes, the way she’s looking up at me makes me think there’s desire in her eyes, but I’m obviously delusional.

It takes a huge effort to keep my gaze on where I’m working and not the hand holding her breast. Reagan doesn’t have overly large tits but they’re the perfect size for her body. If I leaned in a bit, my tongue could slide over her nipple like she used to like. As though she can read my mind I swear she presses her thighs together and her breathing picks up.

I clear my throat and lose myself in the buzzing of the needle, forcing myself to concentrate. I want her to think of me every time she looks at this tattoo. Maybe that’s selfish because I know this is about her mom but it’s how I feel all the same.

She winces when I get to a particularly sensitive spot by her ribcage.

“Need a break?” I ask.

“Do you mind? Maybe just a minute or two?”

“Sure. You’re doing good for a first-timer.” I slide my stool back to give her room.

“Thanks.” Her body loses some of the tension.

I decide to use the opportunity to catch up with her, see if she’ll open up to me at all. “How are you doing since your mom passed?”

Her hazel eyes meet my gaze. “Not bad. Trying to move on with my life—slowly. If I’m honest, in some ways it was a relief.” Her eyes flare wide for a second like she can’t believe she said that out loud. “I know that sounds terrible, but she was suffering for so long, and watching her decline over the years was torture.” Tears well in her eyes. “So when she was finally at peace it was sad, but yeah… a relief.” She sighs. “Please don’t judge me.”

I take her small right hand, squeezing it in mine. “No judgment, honey. Never from me.”

She inhales a shuddering breath. “I haven’t told anyone that. You always were too easy to talk to. End up knowing all my secrets.” Then she gives me a sad smile and it makes me yearn for the kind of smiles she used to give me. Open and wide and full of joy.

“Good thing I don’t talk much then. Your secrets are safe with me.”

She lets a chuckle loose. Then a small laugh. And a minute later she’s full belly laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I set the needle down.

She shakes her head side to side, and it takes her a moment to compose herself. “Here I am, years after we stopped… you know. And I’m half naked holding my breast in my hand telling you things I haven’t told anyone. It’s not exactly how I thought my night would go.”

“That makes two of us.” We’re both quiet for a beat. “You good to go now?”

“I’m good.”

I pick my tattoo gun back up and lean over her to start with some blending of the colors and I feel her watching me. Though I resist as long as I can, I let my gaze wander from my work, pulling the needle up from her skin, and meeting her gaze.

Damn it, the temptation to lean down and kiss her is so great that without even meaning to, I feel myself leaning into her. Her tongue darts out and licks her bottom lip, her eyelids growing heavy. I inch forward a bit more, holding my breath. She lifts her head a bit too and then—

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