Page 70 of Daddy Issues

My stomach tightened into an excited knot when I parked in the alley behind the shop, beside Puck’s bike. The entire drive home, I’d hoped he’d be there when I got home. I’d spent most of the night thinking about him, forcing myself not to text him.

I wasn’t desperate and wouldn’t act like it. But I really did miss him.

With a groan, I dropped my forehead to the steering wheel. I’d spent the better part of three days wading through the slog of my emotions. I was attracted to Puck, had been for years. But now? That desire was all-consuming. And there were all the soft parts, the gooey center of that relationship that made me want to say things I’d never thought I’d say to anyone.

Feel things I didn’t think possible.

But was I projecting? David had kicked me out, and Puck had saved me like he always did.

Hero worship, table for one.

I definitely couldn’t be falling for Puck Kelly. Because that would never work.

A brief flicker of hope lit in my belly when I remembered hanging out with Puck and Eli at the Fall Fest. Then the memory of JoJo’s words stamped it out before I could open the back door to the tattoo shop.

At ten at night, the place was jumping. People filled up the small waiting room as the hum and buzz of tattoo guns threaded through conversation. Puck’s office door was open and while I considered popping in, I thought better of it and marched up the stairs.

I wasn’t his girlfriend, for crying out loud.

At the top of the stairs sat a fat manilla envelope with my name printed neatly on the front. I opened it to see a stack of cash. I counted it as I slowly went back down the stairs. Hmmm, almost exactly what I’d left laying on David’s floor during my fight with Nadine.

“Did you leave this upstairs?” I waved the envelope around in front of my face.

Puck was perched on a stool at the large drafting desk, back to the door, sketching. His cut was off, hanging on the back of his desk chair closest to me. The muscles in his shoulders and back moved as his arm danced over the paper in front of him. He half looked up before answering. “No. David came by earlier.”

The emotions I’d tried to stash away came rushing back, all tossed around and uncertain. “Oh.”

He didn’t ask me what it was, though he probably had a good idea. Instead, he surprised me by turning all the way around, body relaxed, but genuine concern on his handsome face. “You good?”

“Yeah.” Because I was. This wasn’t an apology, but it was one hell of an olive branch.

Closing the envelope, I smacked it across my hand a few times as Puck went back to work. Happiness, or something close to it, bubbled up in my chest. A lot of the bitter, bad things I felt were gone now. Just like that, my world righted itself a little.

From here, I couldn’t make out what he was working on, but the colors were vibrant. No doubt a tattoo for someone out front. He could toss tattoo artwork together so quick, it baffled me. But more, the way his large body moved with such fluid grace impressed me. I knew he could be gentle or not, as the moment called for it.

Why did that turn me on so much?

I dropped the envelope on his computer desk and went to him. Even though he was on a stool, I had to stretch on my tiptoes to look over his shoulder. What he drew was some sort of Central American legend. A temple in a jungle, with a towering god of fire standing court over his dominion.

“Whoa. That’s awesome.”

Absently, one of my hands stroked up his back, across those muscles that tantalized me so. The knuckles of my other hand keeping the same rhythm up and down his free arm.

“Kenna.” Puck’s voice caught on the end of my name, stretching it out all gruff and sexy as he tilted his head toward me.

I jerked my gaze to his. Those gray eyes had narrowed to slits and his tongue moistened his bottom lip. Heat spread out across my chest, then moved lower. I ducked my head and nipped at the slope of his neck, right where the collar of his shirt started.

He shifted, the colored pencil clicking as he dropped it on the table. My belly tingled when he pulled me in, wrapping both his arms around me. I inhaled the subtle scent of him. Not cologne, no I had become well acquainted with his grooming products since moving in upstairs. But it smelled so much more delicious on him than filling the small bathroom upstairs.

“Why do you have to smell so good?” I nuzzled his chest.

“I was about to ask you why you had to look so fucking good.” His chest rumbled as he laughed. “It’s fuck all distracting.”

My work attire seemed to offer ample coverage when I was at The Black Cat. But the tiny pleather skirt and stomach baring, off the shoulder, tight pink crop top was much more revealing in the bright, fluorescent lights.

I leaned back a little to study him. Even seated on the stool, he was several inches taller than me. But I stretched to kiss him anyway, brushing my lips across his and smiling when he sucked my tongue into his mouth.

I’d only thought Jester was the best kisser I’d ever kissed. No, not even close. That title was Puck’s. The pleasure of his tongue sliding against mine radiated all the way to my platform boots. I moaned against his mouth and writhed in his arms.

---