Authors: Natasha Thomas
It turns out; our thirty-two-year-old, dryly funny, dependable, brother of Devil’s Spawn MC, Arrow, also answers to the name Nate. Funny, I didn’t realise until that night that I had no idea what his given name was. Obviously, that’s why Veronica refused our invitations, even if we promised her Arrow wouldn’t be with in a square mile of her. She made herself scarce every time Arrow came to the shop to look for her, one of the brothers must have told him she works at Skin Fusion, and walks in the opposite direction if she sees him on the street. It’s sad really. Young loves suck, I know this first hand, but something else I learnt was; if you want something bad enough, you fight for it.
Walking over, I pull Veronica in for another hug, and ask her quietly,
“Hey honey, everything floating with you?” I say floating because, once Veronica told me that’s what she felt like she was doing, floating. She didn’t have any ties to anything or anyone, she was just coasting through life.
Nodding as we broke the embrace she replied,
“Still floating Kenny, but it’s better than falling at least.” Inspecting me closely she enquired, “How are you doing Kenny? You look fabulous, and I hear congrats are in order?” This she said with a small smirk and a raised eyebrow.
“Sure are honey. I’m doing okay. Better than okay, excellent actually. What’s the damage here though? How far am I booked out really? Uncle Max said it was all good, but he’s a lying asshole, so how about you fill me in.”
Laughing she hooks her arm in mine, and takes me over to the appointment book.
“Your description is scarily accurate oh wise one. You’ve got bookings starting first thing next week, through the next five months lovely. As soon as your clients got wind you were coming back, I’ve been inundated with calls snapping up all your available spots.”
Holy fuck, five months fully booked is unheard of. Unless you’re on Ink Masters, or you’ve been in the industry for decades you never get that kind of schedule.
“Wow.” I exclaim. Turning towards Uncle Max I yell, “I knew you were a big ass liar Reaper,” I try to call him Reaper in the shop seeing he wants to keep his tough guy persona in here, I fail epically a lot of the time though.
Grunting back at me he says,
“Get your ass over here Tiny, V’s got me all set up, and if you want this ink done before Cage gets back you better haul ass.”
I’m surprising Dec with his name tattooed along with a stunning grey and black calla lily on my inner thigh tonight. When I first called Uncle Max about doing the piece for me, he almost lost his ever-loving-mind. It wasn’t that he didn’t think it would turn out beautifully. No. His issue is the placement of it. After spending ten minutes reassuring him I will indeed, wear a pair of short workout shorts while he works, he relented. I knew he would, the big softie.
“Slow your roll, I’m coming big man.” He hates waiting, for anything or anyone. Poor guy. He has no idea what’s in store for him when he eventually finds a woman to settle down with.
Winking at Veronica, or V as we all call her now, I make my way over, strip out of my jeans that are covering the cotton/lycra workout shorts, as promised, and hop up onto the adjustable high-end tattoo chair at Uncle Max’s station.
“You sure you want to do this, Tiny?”
He looks amused and cautious at the same time.
“As sure as you are tall big man.” Chuckling he gets to work.
Two and a half hours later, with a thigh that feels like it’s been rubbed raw with sandpaper, a dressing and anti-bacterial cream applied, and my jeans back in place, I settle at my station opening my work email, and scroll through the upcoming clients request for changes and additions. I begin sketching and a feeling of peace washes over me, just like every time I sit down to draw.
Uncle Pipe walks in about twenty minutes before I’m due to head out bee lining straight for me, and squeezing the hell out of me. Did I say I love Uncle Pipe’s bear hugs? Because I really, really do.
“It’s fucking sweet seeing you back here girl.”
Uncle Max yells from somewhere in the back,
“Truth brother.”
Belly laughing Uncle Pipe sees me flinch as he unceremoniously dumps me back on the stool I was sitting on.
“What’s wrong sweet pea? Are you hurting? Do you need me to call your old man?”
Shaking my head rapidly I rush to reassure him, because I don’t want him to call Dec and ruin my surprise,
“No. I’m all good Uncle Pipe. I just got Uncle Max to do some work for me, and we just finished up about an hour ago, so it’s still fresh. No biggie.”
Looking at me suspiciously he enquires,
“What did you go and get done now, Sweet pea?”
Flicking his nose, he hates when I do that, I snicker at him,
“It’s a secret, sorry Uncle Pipe, but Dec’s got to see it first. He can decide if you and everyone else can see it or not.”
That makes him narrow his eyes, and playfully tug on my hair.
“Fuck me. At least tell me you didn’t make poor Reaper do it somewhere he hasn’t got any business seeing? The poor fucker is going have an aneurism one of these days with all the shit you and Lou put him through.”
Slapping his upper arm with the back of my hand I cry out,
“Oh hell no. Seriously Uncle Pipe?” I must look outraged, because he bursts out laughing before I can continue. Slapping him again I add, “Do you really think for one, I’m that cruel, and for two, he would ever say yes to something like that? Shit. Uncle Pipe he’d have a heart attack and his eyeballs would fall out if I’d made him do that.”
Kissing the top of my head he gives up.
“Alright then girl. As long as you didn’t scare the poor fucker for life, it’s all good.”
Leaning against his side, that’s currently propped against the edge of my bench I ask,
“So what can I do for you anyway? You didn’t come in to just give me shit did you?”
Wiggling my brows at him he tugs my hair again.
“Nah. I just wanted to tell you I’ll drop Lexi at nursery tomorrow. Save you coming out just to do the school run. I was passing by anyway, and seemed like as good a reason as any to drop in, and tell you in person.”
Nodding I agree because I’m happy to see him too.
“I always like seeing you, so whatever the reason it’s all good with me. Thanks for that. I think it’s only a half day for her tomorrow anyway. Teachers strike, or something like that. I hear it’s affecting the whole school district, so there might be a pretty History teacher at loose ends tomorrow afternoon.”
I can’t help making fun of his little, or should I say big obsessive, infatuation over the gorgeous, thirty-four-year-old Blackwater high school history teacher, Selena Mitchell. Flicking my ear again he growls,
“Shut it, sweet pea, I don’t need you playing matchmaker. You worry about your own shit, and I’ll handle mine.”
Huffing at him I retort,
“Well that would work out just fine if you were actually handling it, but you aren’t. Selena’s not going to be single forever, and you, my snarky Uncle are going to find yourself shit out of luck if you don’t pull the lead out.” Growling again he grunts a, ‘We’ll see’.
Hearing the chime on the door, I turn slightly and catch sight of my man walking in. Dec’s wearing a black long sleeved Henley under his cut, a pair of well-worn dark denim jeans that are moulded perfectly to his powerfully thighs and tight ass. He told me once he prefers darker coloured jeans because they hide the grease stains. On his feet, he’s sporting his trademark black lace up biker boots, and I know for a fact, because I watched him put it on this morning, a sweet black belt with custom Devil’s Spawn MC belt buckle. All in all my man is fuckingg delicious.
Approaching his dad and me, he grabs me up in a hug shoving his face in my neck, making me shiver with desire.
“I fucking missed you baby. You ready to go home? Please tell me you’re ready to go home.”
Turning, I plant a wet closed mouth kiss on his lips and enquire,
“You okay honey? What’s the rush?”
Kissing my neck, my jaw, and then settling on my temple he says,
“My cock is so fucking hard, and I’ve been thinkin about gettin you home and naked in that big ass bed of yours all day. If we don’t go now, I’m not going to be responsible for what happens next. If all that shit equals me being okay, then yeah, I’m fine.”
Giggling at his situation, I straighten and begin putting away my pencils and other drawing supplies.
“Give me five minutes to straighten this up, and I’m all yours for the rest of the day and night. Your dad is taking Lexi to nursery tomorrow, so we can even stay in bed most of the morning too.”
Looking over his shoulder, Dec catches sight of Uncle Max.
“Reaper, I’m takin my girl now. You or V good to pack up her shit?” Impatient pushy bastard.
Giving his chest a little shove with my palms, I say,
“It’ll only take a minute Dec. Slow your roll.”
Dec looks deadly serious when he rasps out, only low enough for me to hear,
“Baby, you don’t get on the back of my bike in the next thirty seconds, and I’m going to have no choice but, to bend you over your chair here and fuck the ever-loving shit out of you, no matter who’s watching. I’m on a hair trigger here, Babe. Cut me some slack, yeah?”
With that I jump up, forgetting about the burn in my leg for now, and grab my purse.
“I’m heading out now Uncle Max. See you tomorrow afternoon V, and Toby behave, not every woman that walks in here wants to bang you.” Cocky bastard thinks every woman that walks into Skin Fusion wants a piece of him, ninety-five percent of the time he’s right too. Frustrating men!
“Sure thing, Tiny, leave your shit, and I’ll take care of it later,” from Uncle Max.
“Bye honey, see you tomorrow,” comes from Veronica.
And from the manwhore himself,
“Being bad is so much better than being good though Kenny.” I’m soooo, sure.
A fifteen minute bike ride, that’s done all sorts of naughty things to my lady parts, a clearly impatient Dec; if him dropping my helmet four times, kicking the door shut causing the windows beside it to rattle, is anything to go by, and a hurried trip to my bedroom, where I’m picked up and tossed, literally, tossed on the bed later; it’s the moment I’ve been anticipating, and dreading in equal measure.
Anticipating because, let’s face it, it’s Dec we’re talking about here. Not only is he the sexiest thing on two legs, but he’s my best friend, the man I’ve been madly in love with for years, and the man I’ve always intended to give my virginity to. Dreading probably isn’t the right way to describe it either, more like, highly anxious, or possibly close to shitting bricks.
I’ve spoken to Lou, and Priss about this moment many times over the years. Both of them assured me that while it hurts at first, that’s fleeting, and if I’m with the right man, the right man being Dec in my eyes, he’ll make it so good for me the pain will be forgotten immediately. The pain isn’t what worries me though. In fact I’m pretty sure, and you may want to cover your eyes and close your ears for this bit; I accidentally broke my hymen about three years ago, in a freak, I-got-too-excited-my-vibrator-slipped-too-far-in incident. Yes. There are seriously people that shit happens to. Namely me. There was a fair bit of blood, and burning pain in my lady garden for a couple of days afterward, so I’m relatively confident I did the job for Dec in advance.
What worries me; is I won’t be any good at it. I mean, Dec has had heaps of experience, and I’ve had, let’s see, zip, nil, nada, zilch, a grand total of none. I know Dec was faithful to the whorebag, so that means his experience isn’t all that current. Unless he was with women while I was gone, and I refuse to consider that because it would break my heart. Still, the sum total of his experience far outweighs mine.
Sensing and probably seeing, because I’m sure it’s written all over my face, my trepidation, Dec stalks to the bed positioning himself fully clothed above me, looking directly into my eyes.
“You want to tell me what’s on your mind, Baby, or you do you want me to guess?” I don’t know how to voice how I’m feeling without thoroughly humiliating myself, so I stay silent. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, Sweetheart. I haven’t been with a woman since the last time I was with the DB.” He looks a little disgusted with himself, so I reach my hand out and stroke his cheek. He looks down at me again, and goes on. “I’m going to be gentle with you, and make this as fucking perfect for you as I can, Baby. It’s going to hurt for a minute, but I’ll go slow Sweetheart, I promise.”
I knew Dec would worry about that, he wouldn’t be the man I knew if he didn’t. Wanting to alleviate his concerns, I put my big girl panties on, and admit,
“Promise not to laugh.” Jesus. There’s no way to say this without sounding like an idiot, so I may as well just come out with it. I wait for his agreement in the form of a curt nod before I do, “I’m not worried about the pain Dec, and you shouldn’t be either. I don’t think that’s going to be an issue for us.”
His brow furrows, and he looks confused when he states in all seriousness,
“Sweetheart, you’ve been all over my cock, so you know it isn’t small. This shit hurts for all women apparently, I haven’t ever been with a virgin, but I can assume it isn’t going to be any different for you, Sweetheart.”