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I watch as Belle happily strolls past the different booths and vendors, looking at the jewelry and handcrafted wooden decorations. She stops frequently to ask about pieces and seems to love hearing the artists’ stories and inspiration. She’s totally engrossed in the connections she’s making with people, and I’m totally captivated by her.
She looks so happy and carefree. A wild spirit that somehow excites and soothes me in equal measures.
I take a deep breath, trying to gain control of my fucking cock. Every time she laughs, smiles, or bends over to look at something closely, my dick strains against my shorts. Thank fuck these boardshorts have an industrial liner, otherwise everyone on the boardwalk would know just how bad I have it for this girl.
Her long legs are on full display, and all it does is remind me of seeing her bent over that bathroom sink, Linc pounding into her, lost in the bliss of her body. Fuck. That was a sight to behold. I’ve never seen someone look so...free before.
She spins, facing me, staring like she just asked me a question. It takes every ounce of my willpower not to stare at her tits as she bounces on her feet.
“What?” I ask. The struggle is real, but I manage to keep my focus on her eyes.
“I said, can we ride the Ferris wheel?” She pouts, blinking her big brown eyes at me, and I nod. I’m an absolute sucker for her. I’m not going to tell her how much I hate Ferris wheels. Or how terrified I am of heights; she’ll change her mind about riding just to spare me. Besides, it’s good to face your fears once in a while. Right?
While we’re standing in line, I know that I’m being too quiet. Belle notices, but doesn’t question it. Instead, she stares at the tattoo on my left inner forearm, tilting her head to get a better view.
“Oh my god, is that a French bulldog?” She nearly squeals, and I chuckle. “I thought all your tattoos were monochrome!”
I stare down at my arm, turning the design outwards to give her a better view of the portrait of my favorite being. The dog on my arm is wearing rainbow-colored mirror shades and is actually the only colored tattoo I have. Kelly did a fantastic job at capturing the pup’s true likeness.
“His name is Winston.”
“You named your dog tattoo?” she teases with a grin.
“He’s real. It’s a portrait, done by Kelly actually, even though it’s not his usual style. He’s damn good.”
“You have a dog? I’ve never seen one at the apartment.”
“My ex and I share custody. I get him every few weeks. I bought him as a gift for her birthday, but when we broke up, I begged her to let me keep him. We ended on pretty good terms, so every couple weeks she brings him by,” I tell her.
“Winston is an adorable name.” She brushes her fingers over the ink lightly, making me shiver. She’s oblivious to the effect she’s having on me right now, but I don’t stop her.
Did I catch one of my best friends with her just last night? Yes. Do I care? Hmm. That’s a loaded question. If Linc asked me to back off, I would. Well, I'd try. For him. He’s been through so much fucked up shit that he deserves happiness, but man…the way this girl's ass looks in some cut-offs makes my dick hard as a rock. It’s more than that, though. She wears her soul on her skin. It’s beautiful, and I want to know everything about her.
And she’s pretty damn funny, smart, and nice too. I’d like to pursue her, but I don’t want to hurt my friend.
Belle turns away, facing the front of the line, and I take the opportunity to wrap my arms around her, pulling her tightly to me. Her back connects with my chest, but I make sure not to rub my cock against her ass. She tilts her head, looking up at me over her shoulder. I give her neck a light kiss, and enjoy the way she shivers under me.
Maybe she’s as into me as I am into her.
I straighten, about to release her, when she grabs my wrists, keeping me in place. I’m not complaining. We stay like that as we move through the line, and I try not to let the coconut smell of her sunblock intoxicate me. I want to do bad things to this woman, but I have to take this slow. I want her to know this is more than just sexual. It’s the fact that I think she’s cool as fuck. The fact that, despite her brother being a royal fuck head, she stood up to him. That she was submissive to Linc, but then punched Linda like a pro.
It’s her style, her story. The way she wears her tattoos like a guide to her life. The fact that she looks like a fucking goddess is just a bonus.
It’s finally our turn to sit down, and I let Belle climb in first. As the machine starts to move, I grip the bar tightly, and Belle frowns.
To distract her, and myself, I point to one of the tats on her thigh.
“What’s this one represent?” I ask, and she strokes the skin softly. The way she looks at it with affection in her eyes makes my heart ache. I want her to look at me like that. I want to brand every inch of her skin with my ink, so she can look at it like that.
“A friend. One of the places I lived the longest was in the South West, on base. From the age of thirteen to seventeen. When we moved into the housing complex, this girl lived across the hall from us. Her mum…” Belle shakes her head, frowning. “She was awful, honestly. A new man every other week. I could hear them fighting at night. The girl, Sarah, always looked so sad. My dad worked a lot, but I could tell he knew what was happening. One night, after he’d had a long day, we were eating dinner, and he heard Sarah’s mum scream. He stormed across the hall, kicked in her door, and beat the shit out of the man who had been trying to rape her. Sarah’s mum tried to defend him, and tried to excuse the abuse. So Dad stomped into Sarah’s room, packed up a bag of her stuff, and told her mother she didn’t deserve to be a parent.” She sighs heavily, swiping away a tear. “He asked her if she’d like to come stay with us, and she threw herself into my dad’s arms, sobbing. My dad has always been my hero, but in that moment, he was so much more. He was someone else's hero, too.”
“So why the crying angel?” I ask, thinking that the story sounded like it had a happy ending, but the watercolor angel on her thigh looks so sad.
“Sarah was safe with my dad, but it was too late. Her mental demons were too much for her to fight, and when she turned seventeen, she ran away. The note said goodbye. That she was going to…” Belle chokes up, before taking a deep, steadying breath. “I tried looking for her. Searched every morgue, hospital, and psych ward for a hundred miles. I could never find her. I’ve kept in touch with some of our base mates, but no one has seen or heard from her since she ran away. My dad was actually pretty heartbroken too. She was with us for a few years, so I guess she became like another daughter to him.”
I’m so enamored by her story, that I don’t even realize that the ride is nearly over. They’re starting to let people off, and my breath leaves my lungs in a woosh. We’re about to be stuck at the very top. Belle grabs my hand, giving it a squeeze.
“Are you okay, Mica?” she asks, and I nod, trying to calm my mind.
