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Bastian smiles. “Good girl.”
My pulse jumps when he slides his fingers into me once more, slipping deeper into me. His other fingers continue their relentless teasing dance along my clit and it seems like mere seconds before I’m arching upward with a cry.
“Feeling better?” Bastian asks as he pulls his hand away. I give him a half-hearted glare but he sticks his hand in my face and pushes his fingers into my mouth. “Suck them clean.”
Tongue darting out, I swipe over the offered digits, lapping up the taste of myself from his hand. As I clean him up, I catch aglimpse of a tattoo along the inside of his wrist. I’d seen it before, the other night.
“What is that?” I ask, pulling his fingers from my mouth and turning the wrist to examine it. There are some spindly lines there, branching upward into his sleeve.
He takes his hand back, wiping it carelessly over his jeans, before unbuttoning the cuff of his flannel shirt and rolling it up to his elbow, turning his arm to show me.
I reach out and grab his arm, looking at it more closely. The spindly lines go upward and turn into thicker roots, which join together into an intricately twisting trunk and then continue upward towards his elbow where it splits off into more intricate branches.
“It’s so good,” I say. “The line work on this is amazing. What made you get it?”
“It’s the Tree of Life,” he says, twisting his arm a little. “Got it when I turned eighteen. The roots are supposed to represent the past, keeping me grounded. The branches symbolize the future and opportunity for growth.”
I nod, removing my hand when I realize I’ve been tracing the lines absentmindedly with my finger. There’s a softness in his eyes as we share in this quiet moment alone. His usual stoicism seems to momentarily melt away, revealing hidden layers that I’d never expected from someone like him.
“Anyway, let’s get going so you can get your shit done. You’ve got me worked up and all I can think about is bending you over in that skirt,” he says, rolling his sleeve back down.
Then again, maybe not, I think as I buckle the seatbelt with a frown.
While out, I watch as he hovers nearby, a scowl on his face. He seems stiff, almost uncomfortable, and I wonder if it might be his protective side coming out. What made him like this?
As soon as we’re done, he drags me back to the car. “Let’s go home so I can keep my promise and bend you over,” he whispers in my ear. I blush and follow him to the car.
As soon as we get home though, Bastian gets a call. Caleb is lounging in the living room and pats the spot next to him. I fall onto the couch next to him and watch as Bastian starts to argue with whoever is on the other end of the line, sounding more agitated as the call continues.
I turn to Caleb. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Oh, come on. You can’t even give me a hint?” I ask, turning to face him and batting my lashes. “You guys never tell me anything.”
“It’s nothing for you to worry about,” Caleb says again. “Do you want to come up to the bedroom with me? I’m in the mood to playThe Sims.”
“You playThe Sims?” I exclaim. “I love that game!”
“You can help me with my current build challenge,” he offers. “I can’t seem to get the roofing right on this one.”
He takes my hand in his and I follow him up the stairs, practically bouncing in excitement.
Within a few minutes of us sitting down though, Bastian trudges up the stairs and sticks his head into Caleb’s room, a grim look on his face. “We need to go,” he says.
I stand up but he shakes his head. “Not you.”
“What’s going on?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”
“We’re fine. Just sit tight,” he says. “We’ll be back soon.”
“Can’t I just come, just this once?”
“I said no,” Bastian’s voice grows firm. “We’ve got some business to take care of.”
“What kind of business?” I press. “I already know you guys are street criminals. I’m sure I can hang out in the car while you shake down some poor snot for his money.”
Bastian’s eyes betray a flicker of hurt. “We’re not like that,” he grits out.
