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“You know, Luca,” she purrs, and runs her hand under my shirt and over my abs. “It’s been a while since the last time we got together. How about I meet you here after the shop closes and we go back to my place?”
Not waiting for my answer, she grabs my hand and places it over her right tit. I plump the soft mound, then tweak the nipple. Her back arches and she releases a low moan. Whitney’s a beautiful woman, and we’ve fucked a few times. Our relationship works perfectly because we both know the other isn’t looking for anything serious.
Tonight, however, I’m tired as fuck and just want to go home and fall into bed.
“Not tonight, Whit.” I release her nipple. “Maybe some other time.”
Her pretty lips form a pout and she swings her legs to the side. Her feet hit the floor on either side of mine. Her hand moves to the button on my jeans and she unsnaps it. “Are you sure I can’t change your mind?” she says seductively. She slowly slides down the zipper until my hard cock falls free. Her nails run the length of it before centering in on my Prince Albert piercing. I clench my teeth to hold back a groan.
If I was a smart man, I’d take her up on her offer. Fragments of my dream last night have run through my head over and over again today. Jacking off to those images didn’t do shit for me, only stirred the desire, making it stronger. I should drag Whitney back to my place and use her body to fuck the images away, and hope like hell this infatuation goes the hell away.
But as hard as my dick is right now with Whit’s mouth only inches away, I don’t want her. It’s not her I’m thinking about stripping bare and taking. It’s not her green eyes I want staring up at me, silently begging me to give her pleasure. And it’s not Whit I want to hold afterward as we both lie in the afterglow.
Feeling warm breath on my cock, I tangle my fingers in Whitney’s hair and pull her head back. She frowns, so I bend and place a kiss against her lips. They linger against hers for a moment before I pull away.
“As tempting as it is, I’m going to pass.” I try to soften the blow by giving her some of the truth. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately, and I’m wiped. I’d be no good for you tonight.”
She smiles, but I still see the disappointment in her eyes. Her hands move away from my dick and she reaches for her shirt. I zip and rebutton my pants.
“Okay. I’ll be alone tonight, so if you change your mind, call me.”
That’s what I love about Whitney. She doesn’t let my rejection bother her.
A moment later, she leaves the room, and I gather my tools and carry them to the autoclave to be cleaned once I cash out Whitney. After washing my hands, I walk to the front. Whitney is leaning over the counter, her elbows on the glass, talking to Jazz. Jazz is a big man, like really fucking big. He’s over six foot seven and has to weigh close to three hundred pounds, all pure muscle. He sports a long goatee that he puts in a braid when he’s working. His head is completely bald, but covered in tattoos. Not just any tattoos though; the crazy motherfucker has his wife’s name tattooed in multiple fonts, sizes, and colors. To say he’s crazy about her is an understatement.
“Thought you weren’t coming in today with Naomi being sick,” I remark as I finish dealing with Whitney.
A big grin splits across his face as he plays with his goatee braid.
“Looks like I’ll be needing a lot of extra hours to pay for the baby she’s giving me. Found out last night she’s pregnant.”
“That’s so exciting!” Whitney squeals, and walks around the counter to give Jazz a hug. Whitney’s sort of become a shop family member with how many times she’s come by to get work done. Naomi’s been in a couple of times when Jazz was tattooing her, and they’ve hit it off. “You tell that girl to call me tomorrow. I want to take her out to lunch to celebrate.”
“Will do, Whit.”
“Congratulations, man.” I shake his hand. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks. It’s been a long time coming.”
They’ve been trying for years to have a baby without success. Jazz may be rough around the edges and a brute, but I have no doubt he’ll adore his baby just as much as he does his wife. He’s a huge fucking softy when it comes to her.
The bell over the door rings and in walks Beck. His eyes immediately spot Whitney, and blatant appreciation flashes in them.
“Well, hello there, sugar. I was here to see this ugly fucker,” he juts his chin to me, “but seeing you here makes it so much better.”
She laughs and cocks her hip out to the side. “I can’t say you’re better-looking than Luca, but your definitely not hard to look at.”
Jazz and I laugh at the wounded look on his face.
&nbs
p; “Ouch.” He clutches his chest “That doesn’t say much for my looks. Way to hurt a guy.”
Her eyes run over him heatedly. “I’m sure you’ll be just fine.” She’s still smiling when she turns to me and Jazz. “Thanks for the ink, Luca. And congrats on the news, Jazz. I’ll see you boys later.”
With a wave, and a silent reminder with her eyes to me to call her if I want company tonight, she turns and struts across the room. She pats Beck on the chest as she passes by him. “Later, handsome.”
Beck turns and watches her ass sashay from the shop before turning back to us. “Who in the hell was that?” he asks, walking over.
