CHAPTER 8
CAMERON
Jessa is a distraction. One I fucking love with every fiber of my being, but still a distraction. I should be working on a sketch for a client, but I’m not. I’m sketching the best fucking view I’ve ever had in my damn life. It’s her. Always her.
I have a few sketch pads filled with her, most of them the view I have at the shop. Of her sitting at the desk and working, her eyebrows furrowed together fucking adorably. Of her smiling at a client. Of her listening intently when she’s on the phone.
The sketch I’m working on right now isn’t like that though. This one is of my cock buried in her tight ass with her dark hair spread across her back before Aiden fucked her face so good that she had tears running down her cheeks. I have a sketch of that too and of how she looked after we pulled out of her and rolled her onto the bed so we could care for her.
She was passed out and looking fucking delectable. It sparked something in me. Something I’m going to see through. Just not yet.
It’ll be so much better if I wait. It sure as fuck won’t be the year I had to wait to get inside her in the first place, but it’ll be when she least expects it.
It’s been a few days since we picked her up. If she heard me say ‘picked her up’, she would try and sass me by whispering ‘abducted’. But we all know it wasn’t against her will. Not really.
Whether she realizes it or not, I suspect she knew it was me stalking her. I had dogged her movements from the moment she left the shop. It was always going to be Aiden or me who did it because Brooks was finishing up a client. Brooks might have wanted to ‘abduct’ Jessa as much as we did, but he’s a professional. He would never rush the work.
The moment Jessa walked out, I was up and out of my seat, not even giving Aiden a look as I slipped out the door. The last thing I heard before the door closed was his huff of annoyance. It put a genuine smile on my face.
The whole time I followed Jessa it was clear she was in a daze. I wonder what she was thinking about because it sure as fuck wasn’t her safety. The longer I watched and followed her, the angrier I became. The guys pulled up next to us at just the right time, it was almost like we had done it before.
We hadn’t, but, damn, it won’t be the last time. It was too fucking hot not to do again.
The tension between us in the shop isn’t suffocating even though it’s been a few days since our visit to Club Sin. Once she was awake, we treated her like a fucking princess, and she lapped it up. When she was able to stand on her own, we took her back to our place and snuggled in together for the night.
It took a little while for her to walk, her legs like noodles. That made all of us puff up with pride. A woman with a glazed over look in her eyes and satisfaction thrumming through her is something to be proud of.
Before we fell asleep for the night, in the big bed we ordered for when we were able to finally bring her home, Brooks kissed her softly. His voice was stern when he reminded her, “You’re ours, Jessa. You need to remember that. No more walking on eggshells around us or thinking what happened wasn’t exactly what we all wanted. No more hiding from us.”
She nibbled on her lip and whispered, “Okay.”
There was still a hint of wariness in her eyes. I get it because I’m sure, for her, it feels like we’ve done a complete turn around in how we feel about her. She has no idea we were waiting for a moment when we could get her between us. I also understand, more than most, no one wants to put themselves out there to get hurt.
We won’t hurt her though; not like that at least.
She’s less fidgety now and more like her old self. Kind of. She does have a new air of confidence about her as she glides around the shop and it’s sexy as fuck.
I’m not the only one who can’t keep their eyes off her. Not only are Aiden and Brooks taking her in every chance they have, but our clients, male and female, have noticed. A few men have leered at her, and it’s taken all my willpower not to beat them or pluck their eyeballs from their heads.
She’s ours to look at. Only ours.
Right now, she’s grinning up at the guy Aiden just finished working on. He’s leaning down on the reception desk and her shoulders are pulled back which are putting her delicious tits on display a little too much. She’s not doing it to be flirtatious, her smile is professional and her voice is chipper. It’s not real; it’s an act she puts on for clients.
He doesn’t know that though and has zero problem staring down at her like she’s a piece of meat. She has no idea how fucking delectable she is and what she does to people. Having her sweet attention on you is a mindfuck of epic proportions; I should know.
Jessa hands the guy the printed care instructions, which Aiden has already gone over, and his receipt. With a wave she effectively dismisses him and turns back to the computer. She totally misses the look of disappointment on the guy’s face. Poor fuckhead. I just might cry for him.
When I clear my throat, Jessa peeks up at me with an eyebrow arched in question. I tilt my head toward the back where the private rooms are. I love the way her lips part as she sucks in a breath. Her eyes are big and round as if she’s asking me if I’m serious.
When I give her a stern look, she swallows hard. Yeah, I’m fucking serious. She has no idea. I’ve just had to watch a man drool all over her. I’m feeling a bit feral, and she definitely has what happens next coming to her.
I stand up slowly, closing my sketchbook silently and tucking it underneath another one on the small desk in my station area. I don’t want someone who shouldn’t see the proof of my Jessa obsession seeing my sketches. I sure as fuck don’t want them to see the very real depictions of how sexy our woman is.
I don’t look at her as I turn and stride into one of the private rooms, smiling to myself when the other guys don’t even look up. Killian is happily chatting with a client and not paying attention at all. Aiden and Brooks will notice when Jessa stands because they’re as obsessed with her as I am.
When I get into the back, I turn to face the door and stand in the middle of the room with my arms crossed across my chest. There is nothing casual about my stance. Jessa practically tiptoes in like she’s the worst cat burglar in the world. She’s gnawing on her bottom lip and looking at me hesitantly.
Without me telling her to do it, she shuts and locks the door. The room is soundproofed since this is where a lot of piercings happen. A client shouting out suddenly when someone is tattooing is a disaster waiting to happen.