Текст книги "Clipped Wings"

Автор книги: Helena Hunting

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“You’re manipulative.”

My threat to go to Chris was empty. I wanted it to be Hayden as much as he seemed to want the same. Part of the draw came from Hayden’s ability to ease the ache inside with his presence alone. I craved the hours of relief that would come from being near him. I wanted a chance to heal, to transfer what was inside onto my skin.

“And you’re cute when you’re mad. Now drop your pants.” He stepped back and waved his hand in the direction of my crotch.

“Pardon?” I blushed, and then blushed some more.

“Your pants, they’re in the way. I can’t work on you like that.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“You’re asking me for a full back tattoo. Which means you’re going to be naked from the waist up, alone with me in a room, for the better part of twenty hours, and you’ve got hang-ups about dropping trou’ for a little one above your pubic bone?”

“Can I leave my underwear on?”

His brow furrowed, and then he laughed. “I don’t need you to take them off, I just need them below your hips so I have enough room to work. Unless you want to take them off. I’m not opposed.”

“Of course you’re not.” Considering how fitted they were, getting my pants over my hips took some effort, even though the button was loose and the zipper was down. My underwear and half my butt were on display. I didn’t think I could be any more embarrassed. I sat down in the tattooing chair, hoping I had given Hayden enough room to work without putting on a show.

He maneuvered around me on a rolling chair. “I’m going to suggest some looser clothes when we start sessions for the back piece. Constrictive clothing tends to make things more difficult.”

“I’ll take that under advisement.”

He suppressed a smirk while I watched him prepare his station. He donned a pair of latex gloves, then set out a razor, a spray bottle of solution, several small cloths, a new needle in a cellophane package, his tattoo machine, the ink, and finally the design.

“All set?” he asked.

I gripped the armrests. “Good to go.”

Hayden ran a gloved finger over the old ink before he sprayed the solution on my skin. He wiped it down, then removed the plastic guard from the razor.

“Will you have to do that on my back?” I asked as he passed the blade over the area.

“No, this is just perfunctory.” His head was bowed, his brow creased in concentration. “It’s a small tattoo. I’m making sure the area is clean, but you’ve, uh—” He coughed. His tongue ring clicked against his viper bite. “—taken care of that for me.”

A sensual smile appeared as he wiped the site with a cloth. I looked away, unable to handle the flirting when I was so exposed.

“Wait! I didn’t even make a decision,” I said when he picked up the transfer.

“I can make it for you.”

I knew without asking which one he would choose. “Don’t you think it’s kind of juvenile?”

“A cupcake right here?” He traced the old tattoo. “No. I don’t think it’s juvenile. I think it’s sexy.”

When he said it like that, looking at me the way he did, it was hard to find a reason to disagree. It was the tattoo I’d wanted originally. No one could tell me no anymore. He waited for my approval before he sprayed the area again and pressed the stencil to my skin.

He peeled it away slowly and inspected the placement. Satisfied, he handed me a mirror and turned to his workstation. Hayden held up the cellophane-wrapped needle for me before he broke open the package and assembled his machine. He worked with skilled precision, moving from one task to the next with efficiency. The session would be over far more quickly than I liked.

“Ready?” he asked as he swiveled to face me.

“Definitely.” I was all in now. The opportunity to cover over one of the many points of contention between Connor and me presented too much of an allure. Connor’s reaction to the black heart had caused the first fissure in our relationship. The cupcake would hide this reminder that he and I might not have been the match I originally believed us to be.

Hayden turned on music before he started, the beat a complement to the hum of the tattoo machine. He dipped the needle into the ink and pressed lightly against my skin. It didn’t hurt the way it had the first time. Initially it stung, but soon the sensation hovered between mild irritation and pleasure. He was careful as he worked; one hand splayed out over my lower abdomen while he traced the lines of the stencil. His touch was gentle, a soothing counterpart to the bite of the needle.

“Everything okay?” The hot sting was briefly eclipsed by the cool swipe of the cloth as Hayden wiped away the residual ink.

“It’s fine, hardly hurts at all.”

The drone of the tattoo machine started up a few seconds later and Hayden resumed tattooing. He asked me about school, keeping up a steady stream of conversation while he outlined the design and filled it in with color. I told him about my program and the class I was teaching. I avoided his questions about my advisor and the content of my thesis paper. The revisions had been sent to Professor Calder. All I could do was hope he was satisfied. The alternative was too disheartening to consider.

Too short a time later, the buzzing ceased. He set down the machine and gave the tattoo a final swipe with the cloth, examining it.

“All done,” he said hoarsely and cleared his throat.

He offered me his hand, and I stood with his assistance, greedily accepting the prolonged contact. He guided me to the full-length mirror and placed his gloved fingertips on my hips, turning me until the light hit the tattoo just the right way. No one would ever guess it had been a cover-up for a badly drawn heart.

“It’s perfect.”

“The canvas made it easy,” he said and waited for me to finish inspecting it before he dressed the tattoo. I stood while he sat. He made one last pass over the fresh ink with a new cloth. Next he rubbed a dab of ointment over the area before he secured it with gauze and medical tape.

“So . . .” I pulled my pants over my hips and buttoned them. “Can I see the design?”

The professional guise dropped. Hayden’s hand smoothed down the outside of my thigh. “I’d be inclined to show you anything you want right about now.”

12

HAYDEN

Shit.

I hadn’t meant to do that—make it sound like a proposition. But for chrissake, I was only human. I’d spent the past hour tattooing a pretty little cupcake no more than two inches above a place I wanted to bury my face in. I was so screwed. There was no way I’d make it through twenty hours or more of sessions with her half naked in my chair without caving. My resolve had burned away like acid in the past hour.

The shortest time line I could foresee for the back piece was just over two months. That was the best-case scenario.

Armed with Tenley’s folder, I ushered her out of the private room and back to my desk. If I stayed in that room with her any longer, I ran the risk of acting on the thoughts running through my head. Particularly those pertaining to what exactly I would find under her panties. She took a seat as I pulled out her sketch. The amount of time I’d spent working on it over the past few days was ridiculous. I’d added more depth to the wings to play up their iridescent quality and make them appear more fragile. The detail in the fire had been difficult to preserve, but I’d managed it using only the most vibrant colors—a stark contrast to the decimated wings. I waited for her reaction.

She pressed one hand to her mouth and blinked rapidly. When her breath left her, she shuddered. The delicate lines of her face morphed into something alien, void of all emotion. She hated it.

“I have other options,” I said, ready to file away the sketch and pull out a different one. There were three versions.

Tenley put her hand over mine. “It’s perfect. Better than I imagined.” Pain laced her words with a jagged edge. “When can we start?”

Whatever happened to her must have been bad, because she was ready, more ready than I anticipated, to commit this piece to her skin.

“I’d like to see how the new tattoo heals. Then I’ll have a better idea how far apart the appointments should be.” I was sure if I told her I would start right now and work for twenty hours straight as long as I had an intravenous coffee drip, she would agree to it.

“Does that mean I have to wait two weeks?” She withdrew her hand and chewed on one of her raggedly bitten nails. They hadn’t been that bad last week.

“Give or take a few days. Either way, I’m not backing out on you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Promise?” she whispered.

“Look, I’ll check the new ink in a day or two to see how it’s healing,” I reassured her. “If progress is good, we could schedule a tentative appointment for, say, a week and a half from now?”

“Can you check it every other day?” she asked.

“Sure. Every time you work if that’s what you want.” I mentally kicked myself; I’d be seeing a lot of Tenley’s underwear.

“Okay.”

That seemed to placate her. She traced the lines of the design as I flipped through my schedule, looking for a good time to fit her in. Lisa appeared out of nowhere, peering over my shoulder.

“You have space next Tuesday in the evening,” she pointed out.

“That’s barely a week.”

“Maybe Tenley will heal quickly,” she offered with a serene smile. I wasn’t fooled. “There’s also a block of time on Thursday evening if that would make you feel better,” Lisa told me. “I’ll put it on the main schedule. If it still hasn’t healed as well as you like, you can move the appointment.”

“That works for me,” Tenley said, looking hopeful.

“Fine,” I acquiesced, mostly because I didn’t want to disappoint her. “But if it doesn’t look good, we’re pushing the start date forward.”

“That’s fair.” She took the little appointment card from me and slid it into her back pocket. She patted her hip. “What do I owe you for this one?”

“Don’t worry about it. That’s our test run.” I was more than happy to give her a freebie, considering the size of the piece I planned to put on her back. Being able to cover over a horrible tattoo while in the proximity of Tenley’s Promised Land was payment enough.

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. I’m just glad you let me do it.”

Tenley broke out into the cutest shy grin. Just like the last time, she leaned in and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Hayden.”

I didn’t have time to react, because Lisa dragged her away to the piercing room. I watched as they disappeared behind the closed door, annoyed Lisa had stolen Tenley. Again. Jamie and Chris were sitting in the chairs reserved for waiting clientele, gawking at me.

“What?” I barked.

“You’re so fucked, you know that, right?” Chris laughed.

I sure did, but I wasn’t going to admit it. “What are you nagging me about?”

“Rules are rules, brother, or are you planning to make a concession for Tenley?”

He and Jamie exchanged a knowing look. I didn’t need or want the reminder. I rolled my eyes and went about cleaning up my station. It was well past seven, after closing for a Sunday. I had been with Tenley for more than an hour and a half.

“We going out?” Chris asked, the question directed at me.

“Not tonight.” I wasn’t in the mood for the bar and the skanky chicks that came with it. The scene had become less and less appealing over the past year, and even more so recently.

I had a better plan, and it involved Tenley. I wanted her, not just in my chair but in my bed, too. And not just once. My preference would be unlimited occasions, in a myriad of positions, for an indefinite period of time. First I had to tattoo her, though. Chris might think it was because of the stupid fucking rule. That was part of it. But it had more to do with how damaged she seemed to be, and how much she struggled with what felt like a mutual attraction. Every time I made a little progress she’d turn around and get all cagey again. I had to be careful with her. Patience was paramount. I didn’t have much left, but I could try and muster up some more.

A few minutes later, Tenley and Lisa came out of the piercing room. Lisa looked pleased and Tenley looked flustered. She avoided eye contact with me, proving my point about treading carefully. How we could go from kisses on the cheek to the frightened kitten so quickly was beyond me.

Jamie stood up and stretched. “Ready, baby?” he asked, holding his arms open.

“Always.” Lisa stepped into him and ran her hands over his half-bare chest.

I wasn’t sure what was up with Jamie and that vest today, but he managed to garner a hell of a lot of attention with it. Much of it came from Lisa. Some days their obliviousness to everyone around them irritated me. Today was one of those days. I turned to Tenley, who stood beside me. She didn’t appear to share my disdain for their open affection. Instead Tenley seemed saddened by it, wistful almost.

“I should go home.” She fiddled with the sleeve of her shirt.

I had the strangest urge to hug her. I tried to recall the last time I hugged someone. And not a dude inspired back-smack-shoulder-bash, but a real hug. My mom had been a hugger. I relished the affection as a child and rued it as a teenager. There must have been a point in the last seven years when I hugged Lisa or Cassie, but I couldn’t remember a time that would warrant it. I didn’t invite affection on most occasions.

“I can walk you out,” I offered. It seemed appropriate and more acceptable than the other things I wanted to do. Dragging her back to the private room while Lisa and the guys weren’t paying attention wouldn’t go over well.

“I live across the street.”

“Yeah, but it’s late and you have to walk down that alley between the buildings.” I pointed out the window. At that my imagination went berserk, concocting various horrific scenes, all of which ended with Tenley in a pool of her own blood. I hated how my mind worked sometimes.

“I have pepper spray.”

“Nice to know, but a hell of a lot of good it’s going to do you if a guy twice your size comes at you from behind.”

“No one is going to attack me.”

“Bad things happen all the time.” I hadn’t meant for a simple offer to walk her across the street to turn into an almost-argument. I diffused the tension with a reminder that she owed me. “Besides, you promised me cupcakes, and I’m going to collect.”

“Of course, how could I forget about the cupcakes?” She slipped into her jacket.

My protective impulse unsettled me. I was used to thoughts that revolved around the uncontrollable nature of death, but I had never projected them onto another person before. Her fragility made me want to shield her from more potential pain, hypothetical or not.

I held open the door for Tenley and called out over my shoulder, “See you guys later.”

“Remember the rules!” Chris yelled back as the door blew shut. Jackass.

We crossed the street in silence while I tried to come up with something to say that didn’t include inviting myself into her apartment.

Tenley saved me the embarrassment. “Do you remember the ladybug invasion?”

“The what?”

“It was like the plague of frogs, except with ladybugs. I couldn’t have been more than thirteen. One day I came home from school and my mother’s garden was swarmed by them. The flowers looked like they were breathing and bleeding. As a kid I thought they were so rare and precious. It was supposed to be good luck when they landed on you.”

“Like finding a four-leaf clover.”

“Exactly. My mom used to tell me to make a wish. But there were thousands of them. Even in the house. They stopped being special and started being a nuisance. I remember cleaning my bedroom in the spring and finding ladybug carcasses everywhere. It was like a ladybug graveyard . . .” she trailed off.

“Does your mom live close by?” I asked. It was the first mention of Tenley’s family, and I wanted to know more.

“She . . . died in an accident,” she said softly. She dug around in her purse as we approached the rear entrance of the store.

“Jesus. I’m sorry.”

I wondered if that loss explained, at least in part, the reason for the massive tattoo. Though I was hard-pressed to believe it was the sole source of trauma behind the design. There was too much to it—too much darkness, too much destruction, too much life set out of reach in the background. Even though there was an inference of healing, it felt like the fire won out, consuming quicker than hope could repair the damage.

Tenley shrugged, eyes downcast. I could see I had touched on her pain. I needed to remember not to push, because frightened kittens ran and angry ones had claws. It was a precarious balance. With the impending sessions, I had time to flush out her secrets.

“Hold on.” She held up a hand, a warning for me to stay put, and dropped into a crouch at the base of the stairs. I took a step toward her, worried I upset her, but she gave a quick shake of her head and lowered her messenger bag to the ground. “It’s okay,” she cooed, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

I saw, then, what had caught her attention. A tiny orange-and-white kitten with oversized feet padded out from the shadows of the garbage can and tentatively sniffed her fingers.

“What are you doing out here, kitty?” She waited patiently while the kitten sniffed her out. When it didn’t bolt, Tenley scratched under its chin and it nuzzled at her hand, allowing her to scoop it up. It looked far too young to be wandering around outside, considering the cool temperature and the late hour.

“She doesn’t even have a tag.” Tenley cradled it in her arms and fussed with it some more, rubbing her nose over its head.

I peered down at the tiny thing. When I tried to pet it, it let out the most ridiculous mew and swatted at my hand. “What’s wrong with its feet?” I asked. They were probably the same size as the kitten’s head.

Tenley inspected the paw hanging over the side of her hand. She gently fingered the pad, splaying its toes and breaking out into a huge grin. It was the most authentic smile I had seen on her yet.

“She’s polydactyl.”

“Since when are cats descendants of dinosaurs?”

She laughed. “It means they have extra toes. This little girl looks like she has opposable thumbs.” She rubbed the top of the kitten’s oversized paws.

“Huh, well that’s weird.” I watched her loving the hell out of her fuzzy little soul mate. “You should take her home then, yeah? She won’t survive out here.”

Tenley nodded in agreement and tucked the striped bundle into her chest. I picked up her messenger bag.

“I’ll just help you get her up to your apartment, then.”

“My keys are in the front pocket.” She pointed to the zipper on the front flap.

I held it out, feeling awkward as she rooted around while the kitten mewed its head off and tried to scale her shoulder.

“I’ll get them.” I shoved my hand into the pocket and wrapped my fist around her keys.

Tenley pointed out the one that unlocked the back door, and I followed her up the stairs. At the top I tried the door to her apartment, but the lock wouldn’t turn.

“It gets sticky sometimes. Can you take her for a second?”

I molded my palms to the underside of her hands and she slowly separated hers so as not to jostle her new pet. It nipped at my thumb and gave me a disgruntled meow as it kneaded at my skin with its tiny, sharp claws. The last time I held a cat was the night my parents died.

“It’s okay, you’re safe.” I patted the kitten.

Tenley fiddled with the key and the door finally opened. She ushered me inside and locked it behind her. I looked around as she took off her shoes and hung her bag on one of the hooks by the door. The furniture was a mix of antiques and the kind of modern stuff one would find in a student apartment. Nothing really went together. There were books and papers scattered all over the coffee table and a blanket on the floor by the couch. I wanted to clean things up, so I looked away.

On the wall to my right were several pieces of art. Based on the content, they were Tenley’s compositions. While the subject matter wasn’t consistent, her style was. Just as the tattoo design was otherworldly and stunningly intricate, so were these. I was about to comment when I noticed the container on the kitchen counter housing cupcakes. I kicked off my shoes and headed straight for them.

Transferring the kitten to one hand, I pried off the lid and carefully extracted one of the iced cakes, taking an enormous bite.

“These are so good,” I mumbled as the kitten craned her neck and sniffed. I crammed the rest of it in my mouth before she could take a lick. I dipped my finger in the icing of another cupcake and held it out for the kitten. “Here you go, little buddy, try this.” She gave it a little test lick and then went to town.

Tenley reached into her back pocket and retrieved her phone. She held it up, and the flash went off.

“What are you doing?” I was feeding a kitten icing; it didn’t paint much of a picture of masculinity.

“You look cute.”

“ ‘Cute’?” I was appalled. No one had ever described me as cute, except maybe when I was a baby, and I doubted even then.

“Yes. Cute. Adorable, even.”

“I think you should rescind that last comment.”

“Why? Are you going to refuse to do my tattoo if I don’t?” She cradled her phone protectively to her chest, peeking down to check out the picture.

“I might.”

“Maybe I should send Lisa a copy, see what her take is on it.” She started pressing buttons.

If Chris got hold of it, he would have a field day. He’d probably make a fucking poster and hang it in the shop window. I would never hear the end of it. “You wouldn’t.”

“I might.”

I dropped the kitten on the counter and crowded her. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

Tenley backed up and hit the lower cabinets, her cocky grin fading. I was sure I looked seriously pissed. She tried to scoot to the side, but I mirrored the movement, blocking her in. The kitten scampered over to the empty coffee cup beside the sink.

Tenley glanced at her from the corner of her eye before refocusing on me. The trepidation that usually accompanied such close contact became evident in her rigid stance. I was about to back off when her entire demeanor changed. It was like a switch being flipped. Her eyes closed briefly, and when they opened again the unease was gone, replaced with a desperation I didn’t know what to make of, but wanted to do something about.

“You don’t intimidate me,” she said softly.

That was a lie, but I went with it. “I’m not trying to. I’m merely suggesting you rethink sharing that picture.”

“Or what?”

“Is it worth pushing me to find out?”

“You’re all bark, no bite,” she challenged.

I couldn’t and wouldn’t back down now. I pried the phone out of her hand and slid it across the counter, out of reach. “Is that right?”

I knew exactly where I wanted to take this. I shouldn’t have come inside. I should have handed over the kitten at the door, waited in the hall for the cupcakes, and gone home. Then I could have fixed my own damn problem and gone to bed. But I hadn’t. Instead, I was standing in Tenley’s kitchen with her sandwiched between me and the counter, spinning intricate fantasies about how I would like to proceed with the rest of the night. Fuck The Rule. Fuck everything.

Tenley tilted her head a fraction, exposing the satin expanse of her throat. It was an invitation; I couldn’t ignore it. Leaning in, I ran my nose up the column of her neck, my mouth following close behind. She was warm beneath my lips. I parted them to taste her, then bit down gently, teeth scraping across her skin.

“See, I bite,” I whispered in her ear, taking the lobe between my teeth.

She sighed, the sound a mix of relief and acute need. I was just going to kiss her. That was it. At least that was what I told myself as I nipped my way across her jaw to her mouth. Cradling her cheek in my palm, I angled her head to the side. Nothing in her posture warned me against what I was about to do.

“Am I cute now?”

She shook her head.

“Adorable, even?” I brushed my lips over hers and they parted, another invitation. “Pardon, I didn’t catch that?” I pulled her top lip between mine, swept my tongue along her skin, and waited.

“No.”

“I didn’t think so.”

Her hands glided along the sides of my neck and into my hair. She pulled me closer and strained upward. I started off slow and searching, because I needed to keep myself in check now more than ever. Her mouth was sweet, and her velvet tongue came out to touch mine, tasting, testing, tentative . . . meeting the silver ball and exploring the feel and texture as I did the same.

Despite my desire to savor the experience, Tenley’s fingers tightened painfully in my hair. Her nails scratched my scalp as she tried to get closer. Relinquishing my already limited restraint, I snaked an arm around her waist and deepened the kiss.

Messing around with Tenley would make things difficult. Even that knowledge wasn’t enough motivation for me to stop. She was so soft and warm, and she tasted so fucking good. I groaned when the hand that wasn’t currently wrapped around my neck moved down my back and under my shirt. The skin-to-skin contact was what I’d been waiting for. I wanted her naked, laid out on the closest surface available. Not the best move, considering we had at least two months of sessions ahead of us.

I grabbed her ass, squeezing hard as I deposited her on the counter and stepped between her legs. She abandoned my hair, both of her hands moving up my sides to my chest. Her touch timid, she toyed with the barbells piercing my nipples. Lust overrode logic when Tenley wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me in tight. Then she started rocking her hips, giving friction to the erection looking to bust its way through the zipper of my jeans. I palmed her ass with one hand, only too happy to grind up on her while I found the hem of her shirt with the other. Fabric bunched at my wrist until I could feel satin and lace. I’d already taken things too far. If she lost any clothing, I doubted I had the control required to prevent the inevitable from happening. Still, a peek wouldn’t hurt. I broke the kiss and looked down.

Her bra matched her panties; gray, with pink pinstripes and trimmed with pale pink lace. It was sexy and feminine and I wanted it gone. I slipped a finger under the lace edge.

“Careful,” she panted, covering my hand with hers. “They’re still healing.”

It took me a second to catch her meaning. Some of the new steel Lisa had been so kindly adorning her with resided beneath the satin padding of the bra I wanted to rip off.

“Fuck,” I groaned. “You’re killing me here.” I dipped lower and grazed the barbell, causing her nipple to tighten in response. All the things I wanted to do I couldn’t. It would be far too sensitive still. I withdrew my hand and Tenley let out a quiet moan of discontent, the sound heading south.

“Anywhere else?” I punctuated the question with a slow grind of my hips.

One of her hands snaked between us, and she palmed my erection. “Not yet.”

I thought my head was going to explode. The lines were blurred. The further I allowed this to go, the harder it was going to be to backpedal out of my idiocy.

I kissed her to distract us both, slowing the urgency in an attempt to subdue the raging desire between us. I pried her hand gently away from my belt buckle, lacing my fingers through hers. She let out a frustrated sound and tried to wriggle free.

“Easy, Tenley.”

So much for patience and restraint. I thought knowing she was damaged somehow would have been enough to keep me from doing something this stupid. Apparently I was wrong. But no matter how badly I wanted to get inside her, my conscience finally caught up to my hormones.

Too bad it hadn’t kicked in about ten minutes earlier, before I’d put my mouth and hands on her. I kissed her one more time before I backed off. Tenley wasn’t interested in slowing things down, though. She leaned in when I leaned back, grabbing for my belt buckle again.

“We need to dial it down,” I said, trying for calm with a throat full of gravel.

“You want this,” she argued, her fingers dipping into the waistband, grazing the head of my cock through the thin barrier of my boxers.

“Ah, shit.” I groaned. Against my better judgment, I put my hand over hers and removed it once again. “I’m not disputing that.”

“Then why are you dialing it down?” she mocked, but she stopped fighting against my hold.

I didn’t let go of her hand this time, because I didn’t trust her complicity. “It’s complicated.”

Her legs went limp and she pushed on my chest, shoving me away. “You’re with someone.”

It was an accusation. She believed it to be true; I could see it in that hot, angry glare of hers.

“Do I look like the kind of guy who has a girlfriend?” Antagonism cut through, making it sound harsher than I intended. She shrank away from me and pulled her knees up to her chest like a barricade. I couldn’t blame her. She’d let me into her apartment and I’d gotten all up on her and then rejected her. I was such a dick.

“Fuck,” I muttered, frustrated I’d broken the only rule I ever tried to follow. Especially with someone I actually liked and wanted to know. And now I hurt her feelings in the process.

She shook her head, a rueful smile turning up the corner of her mouth. “No. Of course not. That would mean you’d have to let someone really see you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I snapped, unaccustomed to being called out.

“Nothing. Forget I said anything. You should go. I have essays to mark and a class to teach in the morning.”

She slid off the counter and adjusted her shirt. I was right in her face when she looked up. Her eyes were watery, swimming with pain so deep I immediately felt remorse for getting upset. I’d been the one to start and end this when I shouldn’t have done either. There was a very real possibility that she would have let me fuck her on the counter. I didn’t know how I felt about that. Under different circumstances I wouldn’t have thought twice. With Tenley it was a problem. And not because of some stupid rule. She didn’t fit into the same category as the women I had been with in the past. I didn’t want her to, either.

“Tenley. It’s not—”

“Please don’t,” she whispered, her lip trembling. A tiny mew came from beside her. I’d forgotten all about the kitten. Tenley picked her up, diverting her attention away from me.