SIX (7 page)

“Think of something for me,” she hums, biting her bottom lip and waving her legs from side to side, causing her arousal to waft at me even more.

Do I look like a dancing monkey? I don’t like being told what to do unless the woman’s in leather and I’m naked.

“How about, ‘There’s an ice box where my heart use to be. I’m so cold, so cold, so cold…” I drone.

Lucky laughs from behind me and the girl’s face crumbles in confusion.

“That’s what the guy’s singing on the radio,” she whines.

“Musicians are poets. Should I tell you who isn’t one? Me,” I growl.

“Oh, you’ll make her cry,” her friend giggles from Lucky’s table.

“The only place she’s crying from is her pussy.”

Her mouth drops open and she closes her legs briefly to fake modesty.

“Is this how you treat all your clients who come in for a tattoo?”

Leaning over her, I breathe, “That’s not what you came for, is it?”

It’s then that I recognize the girl. She’s been in the bar a few times.

Her big doe eyes and skimpy outfits keep her in free drinks from regulars.

She always tries to get my attention whenever I come in, but my attention is always solely on Misty.

I’m pussy whipped without the pussy.

“What did I come for then?” Her chest begins to rise and fall with each desperate breath she takes in.

This girl is fucking gagging for it so hard, I almost felt sorry for her.

“You want to be fucked—hard, by the look of those panties.”

Lucky stops moving around behind me, his focus now on the exchange between me and the needy-as-fuck girl instead of getting his equipment ready.

“Do you want to fuck me? Is that what you’re saying?” she practically begs with lidded eyes.

Bringing my hands to her knees and pushing them open, I stare down at her pussy and inhale.

“No, I’m saying you want me to fuck you.”

“Are you going to?” she breathes on a plea, making me almost laugh.

“Lucky, lock the front door,” I order, and her eyes flash with anticipation.

“Urgh, I actually want a tattoo,” her friend pipes up, holding her hand in the air like she’s in a classroom asking for a bathroom pass.

“Lucky, give her a tattoo.”

“You sure you want this?” I tease as I rip the panties from between her thighs, making her gasp.

Unbuckling my belt, I pull it from my jeans, hold it up, and snap the leather, creating a high-pitched crack to shatter the air right in front of her face.

Both her and her friend startle and then giggle with nerves.

I put the belt to her lips. “Bite down on this.”

Her eyes widen, but she opens her mouth.

Reaching in my pocket, I pull out a condom and unbutton the first three buttons of my jeans before jerking my cock out.

I give it a couple long strokes and then slide the condom down my length.

I’m big everywhere, so her intake of breath and cautious eyes are warranted—and something I’m used to.

“He’s going to fuck her right there?” the girl behind me asks, but Lucky doesn’t answer.

Instead, his tattoo gun fires up, igniting a buzz to sound around the room along with the music from the radio.

Grabbing the hips of the girl soaking my work station, I prod at her opening and slide right in.

I’m generous in both girth and length, so this girl has been fucked a lot if the ease in which her hole accepts me is any indication.

I ram forward, making the table screech slightly.

Her pants are already loud and fast as I shove in and out of her.

A slapping sound of skin on skin joins the buzz of the tattoo gun and her moans grow louder, bordering on obscene.

I grit my teeth and try to enjoy the feel of her heat around me.

Her friend keeps groaning out, “Oh my God,” from behind me, making me regret ever agreeing to let them in here.

I don’t usually fuck girls like her.

I like filthy-mouthed, hip-grinding, cock-sucking women with a kinky side and an open mind.

“Oh fuck, I’m going to come—I’m going to come,” the girl screams as I pound into her lifeless pussy.

If she weren’t so vocal, I’d think she were a corpse.

Pulling my cock out of her, I circle her clit with the pad of my thumb and tease her cunt hole with my tip before slapping her clit with my dick.

Her pussy squirts juices at me like a fire hose.
Fucking hell
.

My eyes widen in surprise and I lean closer to study her pussy.

I’ve never fucked a squirter before. I thought they were a myth.

“You’re squirting everywhere, you dirty little bitch,” I tease, and it makes her writhe around, giving back something to what I’m putting in.

Pulling her legs off the table and spinning her so she’s now bent over it, I wrap my hand in her ponytail and tug her head back.

“Tell me what a bad girl I am,” she moans, and a laugh trickles from my chest.

Applying pressure to the grip I have her hair in, I lower her head to the table. “Smell your cum, you dirty girl. Lick it up like the bad girl you fucking are.”

Her tongue comes out to swipe at the wet patches on the table.

Her friend makes some unpleasant sounds at watching the scene, but it doesn’t appear to register with the horny little number bent over.

I part her legs with a kick at the ankle and slide straight back inside her.

Pounding at her pussy while holding her hair, I tug her head back so she’s looking at Lucky as he wipes her friend’s new tattoo.

I give her a few more hard thrusts and she screams as her pussy clamps around my cock, releasing another orgasm.

Her body trembles in my grasp.

“You want to have a look at this for me?” Lucky requests, looking over at me and back to the tattoo he just finished.

Pulling my cock from the warmth of her pussy, I slap her bare ass, roll the condom off, and drop it next to her head resting with her torso over the table, spent. She’s flustered as fuck and needs a minute.

Pushing my now flaccid cock back in my jeans, I make my way over to his table. The girl can’t look me in the face and keeps silently giggling.

Her stomach bounces up and down, giving her away.

I eye her new ink, which reads:
Luck is believing you’re lucky
.

Cocking a brow at Lucky, he quickly states, “She chose it, told me what she wanted.”

“It’s cute, right?” She grins, clapping her hands.

“Right.” I nod, patting Lucky on the shoulder.

The skill used to create the art is flawless.

She could have
shit on my tits
tattooed there and the execution would still look impressive.

“You didn’t come?” I look to see the fuck doll holding up the condom I took off.

“You did, though,” I point out.

“Time to wrap this up, ladies. We have appointments coming in soon.”

I make my way to the register to ring up their bill and halt when Misty’s eyes hold mine through the small circle window separating the shop with the bar.

I can’t pinpoint the emotion in them, but I can in myself: regret and hatred.

I hurt her to protect her and all she will know is the hurt.

Why did she have to see me as anything more than her boss and an asshole? The girls walk over to the desk and drop money on the surface.

“I feel like I’m paying for sex,” one giggles.

“Just paying for the time, darlin’.” I smirk and gesture to the door.

“Do you want my number?”

I know I’m supposed to say yes, but I decide to go with my initial thoughts to that question. “No thanks.”

They become mute and if I could read minds, I’m almost positive hers would say, “Cunt.” She wouldn’t be wrong.

“I wouldn’t have given it to you anyway,” she sneers, swinging her bag strap up her shoulder before sauntering out of the shop.

“So, that was new…” Lucky comments, cleaning his table off.

He’s right.

I’ve never done shit like that before in here.

I love this place and keep it professional, but I just violated my own rules—and for what? Because I’m strung up over a girl who’s strung up on me.

Pain explodes in my chest.

I don’t have a right to be hurt or feel such overwhelming jealousy, but it’s there anyway.

Why did he take a girl like that but wouldn’t look twice at me? Ugh, I don’t understand men.

Maybe I need to just find someone to sate the craving inside me.

Casual sex is something I could do…
maybe.

I know this much: I am not going to let him see how much it bothered me—or that it bothered me at all.

I’m not going to be one of those girls who acts out when her feelings are hurt.

I need this job and I’ll just use all this pent up lust and affection and aim it in a new direction.

Maybe even take up the couple offers I’ve have had to go on dates.

Ignoring Six’s probing gaze when he later comes into the bar, I go about my business and make my way through to the rec room for a much needed break.

Parker is late again and if she doesn’t show, I will have to work the bar tonight.

Throwing my feet up on the coffee table and resting my eyes for a second, I’m startled when a child is placed in my lap.

“I’m sorry, Mist. I couldn’t get a sitter again.” Parker squirms, wringing her hands together.

I look at the clock and sigh. I know I should be able to get four hours outside of this place, but actually getting them is a different story.

“How did I not know you had a kid?”

“No one does.” She bites on her cheek.

“Can you watch her for me?”

My eyes widen in trepidation. I don’t know how to look after a child.

Standing, I hold the little girl out to her mom and shake my head no.

“Please? I’ll come back and check on her.” Before I can say anything else, she’s walking out the door and I’m staring into big blue eyes.

“Hey,” she says to me, and my heart thaws a little.

“Hey,” I reply, bringing her onto my hip. “What’s your name?”

“Emma.”

“What a beautiful name. And how old are you, Emma?”

She holds up two fingers and then puts them in her mouth. She’s so cute.

The smile on my face hurts, it’s so big.

Just as I’m about to sit down and give Emma my four hours, Six appears in the room.

His stare hard and accusing, he asks, “You have a kid?”

I’m not sure what emotion is in his tone, but it sounds a lot like anger.

Confusion swirls in my mind leaving a gentle throb, the start of a headache coming on.

Whether his anger is directed at the thought of me having a child, which is ridiculous, or the fact that he’s just in a mood, I don’t know.

Either way, I don’t have the patience for him right now.

Walking over to where he’s standing, I hand Emma to him and he holds her out like she has a smelly diaper and he can’t stand the stench.

“She’s Parker’s. Her name is Emma. She’s two. Have fun, it’s my break.”

“Wait, what? Parker has a kid?” He turns, swinging Emma with him. She giggles and makes a
“Weee”
sound.

“I can’t look after a baby!” he exclaims.

“Let her look after you. You could both probably use a nap after such a taxing day.”

And with that, I imagine myself patting my own back and take off.

Six’s attitude and actions are hostile at times, like he wants to know everything about me and my life, but he doesn’t want to offer anything of himself—or reasons for wanting to know.

He confuses me.

When I’m around him, it’s like being on a roller coaster and I’m beginning to get motion sickness.

I step out into the parking lot and stop in my tracks.

My eyebrows furrowed, I look around, trying to figure out why my car is sitting here looking all shiny and clean…and how it got here.

“Hey.”

I startle and nearly lose my footing.

Why did everyone insist on sneaking up on me? “Goddammit, Lucky! I nearly peed myself.”

“Don’t get wet just for little old me,” he beams and my hand jerks out to slap him, but I catch myself and curl it under my arm.

“Here,” he says, dropping my keys in my palm. “Six had it fixed and they delivered it for you. It shouldn’t give you anymore problems.”