Page 67 of Derek
Me: So… what’s my name?
Little Darlin: *Devil emoji* Okay, but you can’t make me change it
Me: Oh god… what is it?
Little Darlin: … Big Daddy D
Me: I hate you with every fiber of my being.
Little Darlin: What if I told you I’m going swimsuit shopping? And there could be a couple pictures in your future?
Me: Well, then there might be one fiber of my being that doesn’t hate you.
* * *
Leaning over my client,I try to ignore the giggle as I wipe her chest. I know I’m an attractive man. Add the tattoos and the accent that the ladies over here find “so raw and rugged,” and I see my fair share of batting lashes. But not this level of overly giddiness. Usually, the women on my table are intimidated by me and just let me do my thing. But not this woman.
“Oh my gosh!” she laughs lightly. “I thought tattoos were supposed to hurt!”
I look up and watch as all three men roll their eyes. If we had a dime for every time a woman said that…
“You don’t think this will take away from my breasts, do you?” She bats her fake lashes at me, and I hear a loud “ha” from Fox’s table as Ren looks over at us.
“You do know it’s inappropriate to sexually harass the artists, right? Not to mention dangerous. I mean, most of their wives and girlfriends are around here.” The woman rolls her unimpressive blue eyes at her, not like Indy’s crystal blues. For such an icy color, they hold so much warmth. Speaking of, where is that girl?
“I didn’t see a ring on his finger, so it seems like daddy here is fair game.” She quips, and I find that while “daddy” is not something I really enjoy being called even by Indy, this woman doing it pisses me the fuck off.
“I make him wear it on his cock.” I drop my fucking machine atmyIndy’s sweet voice. My Indy would not say that, certainly not out loud, and not in public, at work, or next to her brother, who wants my nuts to be mounted above his mantle. My little raven-haired beauty stands at the front of the shop. The warmth in her eyes is gone, replaced with a steel blue and a gaze that could cut glass.
I watch as she walks up to me, and I stare in stunned silence as she grips my jaw rougher than I thought she could and plunges her tongue into my mouth. It isn’t caring or sweet, but fuck, it was possessive and sexy as hell. She releases me, and… what am I chewing on? I taste spearmint and realize I have her gum.
“D-did you want this back?” I ask, pointing at the gum between my teeth, causing Ash to groan.
“At!!!” He sobs. “Make the bad man stop fucking my baby sister!!!”
“You can keep it.” She smirks before glaring at my client and walking into the back. Picking my machine up, I groan. Of course, it has some damage. Sighing, I remove my gloves to start the process of prepping my backup machine. Glancing at the woman’s angry face, I can’t help but bite down on the gum as I inwardly smirk, yeah… I’m getting a negative review for this one. Completely worth it, though.
* * *
“How’s Angel?”Carter’s pet name for Indy makes me growl as I walk around the house, cleaning up and starting my dinner. Indy is going out to dinner with the girls, so I’m on my own, which I should love… but we are past the denial stage. We know I hate it. I want her here, her feet on my coffee table, watching a show way too loudly. Seriously, it’s so loud. She says it helps “immerse” her into the show. Why she feels the need to immerse herself into a show about women killing their partners is not something I plan on figuring out.
“I told you to stop calling her that,” I grumble as I slide the meal into the oven. Tonight is a kale pasta bake that would quite literally make Indy gag like a toddler if she had to eat it. That thought makes me smile.
“Have you hit that yet?” Carter yawns, and I make a mental note to take a hammer to his knee the next time I see him.
“How is it going–” I’m cut off by what sounds like Jackson screaming.
“I don’t fucking care! You live here. You abide by the goddamn rules!”I hear him shout.
“Oh! I’m so sorry, my lord! Shall I fall to my knees and wash your royal ball sack after I finish cleaning the sheets?”I hear a voice I recognize as Ozzy’s shout back.
Carter snickers, “Uhhh… well, Ozzy has been here two days, and Jackson is ready to kill her. She’s fucking hotter than sin, bro. Curvy, covered in tattoos and piercings… including her fucking tongue.” I snort. It’s easy to forget that my little hometown doesn’t see much in the way of alternative fashion.
“Leave her alone, and I swear to god if you run this one off.”
Carter lets out a terrified laugh before whispering into the phone, “I tried to flirt with her when she first got here, and she shoved me back into a pile of cow shit and drove her spiky ass heel into my junk, saying that she would pop them like a grape tomato. I ain’t going anywhere near that crazy woman.” I laugh, shaking my head. I’ve never met Ozzy, but evidently, she and Indy were close at one point. I find it hard to believe my sweet, smiley Indy would befriend someone willing to crush a man’s testicles. Then again, she’s out with the Hel’s girls. Fuck, she is a Hel’s girl. What she said to my client today… fucking hell, that pretty mouth spitting that comment out, then claiming me… I was hard as fuck the rest of the fucking day.
Sighing, I look at the clock, six thirty. She should be home in the next hour. That’ll give me enough time to eat and get a short HIIT workout in.
