Page 10 of Spring Break Fling

I wasn’t sure how much more I could take before my body erupted into light and heat. My muscles were taut and coiled, just waiting for the right touch to send me off the edge.

As if sensing my thoughts, he reached down and caressed my clit with his thumb. Then he growled into my ear, his breath hot and ragged. “Come with me, Hannah.”

The world exploded into a million brilliant colors as I found myself hurtling over the edge. My entire body shook from head to toe. I heard his roars and grunts as he joined me, falling into sweet bliss. A second later, his heavy body collapsed onto mine.

I couldn’t believe I just had sex with a total stranger.

I didn’t even know his last name.

4

NIKKO

The next morning, I woke to an empty bed.

Hannah was gone.

I smirked to myself, shaking my head as I sat up and stretched. I hadn’t expected that from someone like her—a good girl with big eyes and a laugh that had done things to my chest I didn’t want to think too hard about.

But I didn’t mind. In fact, it spared me the awkward Uber call and the polite-but-firm get-out-of-my-place conversation. Not that I usually let women stay over, but something about her energy had felt different. Like she wasn’t the clingy sort who would wake up and decide she wanted to move in with me.

“Guess I dodged that bullet,” I muttered, padding barefoot to the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of water, thinking about how her laugh had lingered in the air last night. I could almost hear it. Shaking it off, I put the glass down and decided a workout would clear my mind.

I didn’t have a bunch of expensive equipment. I didn’t need it and I sure as hell wasn’t a gym guy. People saw me and shied away. They looked at my tattoos and automatically assumed I was an ax murderer or dangerous person. That was okay. I leaned into the image my body projected. It kept me unapproachable.

I put on my sneakers and pulled on a pair of shorts before heading out to my garage. My bike was parked on one side and my basic equipment, all secondhand that had seen better days, was on the other. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. A heavyweight punching bag hung from a rusty chain in the corner, its surface scarred and worn from years of fists and sweat. I started with some stretches before moving into a more serious routine, the kind designed to stop myself from thinking too hard.

As I wrapped my hands, I couldn’t shake the image of Hannah’s wide eyes, full of surprise and something wilder. Throwing punches at the bag, each hit was a little harder than necessary. My thoughts kept returning to her. It was possible, if I was being totally honest with myself, I wished she had been in bed this morning. I didn’t know how long she was in town for, but if I had her number, I could give her a call.

I wouldn’t turn down a second round with her.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that last night wasn’t just another notch on the bedpost. There was something about Hannah that had gotten under my skin. Maybe it was the way she moved, or how she seemed equally surprised and thrilled by her own body’s response. Whatever it was, it lingered in my mind like a sexy ghost.

I shook my head, trying to dislodge her image, and focused back on my workout. The punching bag swayed with each hit. As much as I tried to focus on the physical exertion, my thoughts betrayed me. Last night had gone by too fast. Her body deserved so much more attention. I could have taken her to the stars over and over.

I finished with the bag and moved to my weight bench. If I had more time, I would have gone for a run. Unfortunately, duty called. The weights would have to be enough.

An hour and a half later, freshly showered and still slightly buzzed from the memory of Hannah’s smile, I walked into the tattoo shop. The smell of ink and disinfectant mixed with the salty breeze drifting in through the propped-open door. Diego was already there, leaning against the counter with a coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. Jessie, my sharp-tongued apprentice, was setting up her station, earbuds in and bobbing her head to whatever pop-punk anthem was fueling her morning.

“Well, look who decided to show up,” Diego said, raising an eyebrow as I strolled in.

“Morning, sunshine,” I replied.

“You’re late,” Jessie said without looking up, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “Let me guess, wild night?”

“You have no idea.” I started the process of organizing my station. “Met the hottest chick I’ve ever seen. Brought her back to my place. It was…” I let out a low whistle. “Let’s just say I’m going to be thinking about her for the next two weeks. And I know she’s going to be thinking about me a whole lot longer.”

Diego laughed. “Two weeks? Damn, she must’ve been something else.”

Jessie rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You’re a walking cliché, Nikko. You talk a big game, but deep down, you’re just throwing yourself at women you know won’t stick around so you don’t have to actually deal with your feelings. Am I close?”

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “When did you become a psychiatrist?”

“She’s not wrong,” Diego said, hiding a grin behind his coffee cup.

I rolled my eyes. “Now we’ve got Sigmund fucking Freud over here.”

“I’m just saying, you do have a type, man.” He shrugged.