Page 8 of Finding Our Tomorrow
His card gets approved, and I hand him his receipt so he can sign it. “No, it’s the business number because we’re professionals here and don’t date clients,” I say as I drop a pen onto the receipt for him to use.
The guy signs his name, leaving Willow a decent tip, and takes his card. “Well, if you change your mind—”
I don’t let him finish whatever he’s about to say. “She won’t.”
The guy looks over at Willow, probably hoping she’ll correct me, but when she doesn’t, he just nods and then exits the shop.
“What the hell was that for?” Willow hisses, getting in my face once the door is closed and locked. “I’m pretty sure I have a voice, which means I can speak for myself.” She pokes the front of my chest with her pink-painted fingertip that matches the streaks in her hair.
I scoff. “That guy was practically stripping you naked with his eyes.”
“And he also tipped me forty percent,” she volleys.
“Your work speaks for itself. There’s no reason to flirt to get more money. This is a tattoo shop, not a strip club.” I eye her shirt, and she glances down. When she looks back up, heat ispractically steaming from her ears. Her eyes glaring daggers my way. “It’s no different than when you guys let women flirt with you. It keeps them happy and gets you a good tip.” She’s not wrong, but I’m not about to tell her that. I’m too jealous thinking of all the men who probably ask Willow out. She’s young, tatted up, pierced, and beautiful.
Without thinking about what I’m doing, I grip the back of her head and pull her face towards mine, claiming her lips. The kiss starts out soft and slow, but quickly progresses. Teeth clash, tongues duel. Willow’s fingers quickly find the button to my jeans at the same time I’m yanking hers down her thighs. This is not how this was supposed to go. I was supposed to befriend her, show her I’m here for her.
Her tiny fingers wrap around my hard dick, and I groan into her mouth. Why is it all this woman has to do is touch me and all rational thought flies out the damn window?
Using my dick like it’s a rope she can pull on, she guides us backwards until the back of her legs hit the couch. Needing to taste other parts of her, I wrap her hair in my fingers and tilt her head to the side. As I trail open-mouthed kisses down her slim neck, she strokes my dick. I focus on how sweet she tastes so I don’t come in her hand. My nose sniffs her scent. It’s sweet. The same perfume she always wears. I already know I’m fucking addicted.
My mouth descends to her collarbone, and I push her shirt and bra strap to the side so I can bite down on her shoulder. She moans in pleasure, so I bite harder.
Not liking her shirt in my way, I yank it up and over her head, then take a second to check out her perfect fucking tits. Scooping one out of her bra cup, I lift it to my mouth and wrap my lips around the pointed, pink nipple. Then I bite down on it. Hard. Willow groans, and her hand squeezes my shaft.My girl likes it rough…
“Do it again,” she breathes.
Pulling her other tit out of its cup, I take both in my hands and squeeze them together. I can feel Willow’s eyes on me. She’s watching. Opening my mouth wide, I take both nipples into my mouth and suck on them. Willow squirms, wanting more. I’d bet my left nut, if I dipped my finger into her pussy, she would be dripping wet.
I suck on her nipples again, but this time I scrape my teeth across the hard buds.
“Jesus, Jax.”
“I love your fucking tits,” I growl just before I suck on them again.
“My turn,” she murmurs. Before I can ask her what she means, she drops down onto the sofa, so her face is parallel with my dick. She takes my entire length into her mouth until the tip of my dick hits the back of her throat.
“Willow, fuck. Wait…” I try to get her mouth off me. I’m going to shoot my load right down her pretty little throat. It’s been too long since my dick’s seen any action aside from my own hand.
She shakes her head and mumbles something with my dick still shoved down her throat, and the vibration sends me over the fucking edge. I watch as Willow swallows down every drop of my cum, then licks the head clean. With hooded eyes, she glances up at me shyly, and if I hadn’t just come, I would be now.
Hating that she made me come before I pleasured her, I lift her and throw her onto the couch. Her back hits the leather, and she laughs at my caveman behavior.
“I’m supposed to be a gentleman,” I growl, ripping each of her shoes off and then tugging her pants and underwear down her legs and onto the floor. When I drop my body on top of hers, she giggles, something I’ve never heard from her before. The sound does shit to me, hitting me in places I’ve never felt.
Taking her bottom lip between my lips, I suck it into my mouth then bite down on it. “A real gentleman always makes sure the woman is taken care of before he is.” I kiss my way down her neck, over her breasts—only stopping long enough to give each nipple a lick—and down her belly. I stop when I spot a horizontal scar several inches below her belly button.
She tenses up. “That’s from my hysterectomy,” she admits.
I give it a kiss. “A beautiful battle wound,” I murmur before I continue my descent. When I get to the hood of her neatly trimmed pussy, I give it a soft kiss. When I spread her thighs, I notice two things: one, she’s just as I thought—wet as fuck. And two, her clit is pierced.
“Who did this?” I pinch the tight bud between my fingers. The thought of Gage or Evan seeing her sweet pussy has me seeing red.
“I had it done before I started working here.”
Dipping my head between her legs, I suck the silver piercing into my mouth. Her back arches and she begs me to make her come.
Not wanting to make her wait any longer, I push two fingers into her pussy at the same time I flick her clit with my tongue. My fingers and mouth work in tangent—licking, fucking, sucking until Willow’s body is trembling and she’s screaming out my name.
