Page 81 of Expressionate
Curious, I glance towards the phone. “What’sup?”
“Saw your sister in the apartment next door earlier, what’s up withthat?”
“Beverly moved out when the water damage was taken care of.” —we still haven’t told anyone what really happened in that bathroom, and hopefully, the secret will die with us— “And she never came back,” Tax says. “So, Trish is moving in to help Love out with thebills.”
“Huh, that makes sense – she was movingshit.”
“Did you help her?” Taxasks.
“I tried,” Cross snaps defensively, “but I don’t think she likes memuch.”
“It’ll be fine,” I assure him, resting back against my boyfriend. “She’s just wary right now.” The warmth of his chest seeps through the fabric of our clothes. I want to turn and press my face into his neck and sink into his masculine smell, but I know this is neither the time or place. Still, it doesn’t make the craving goaway.
“Talk to you later, man,” Taxsays.
“Yeah,” Cross grumbles. “Later.” Tax presses down to end thecall.
“Almost done, little lady.” The gruff, weathered-skinned man with a graying shadow across the underside of his jaw wipes away a little blood from the inside of my wrist, and I smile at him. I can do that now. I can smile so easily, and it’s all because of the man at my back. He squeezes me just a little tighter, the saran wrap on his wrist crinkling against my side. When Bill finishes the elaborate, scripted name etched into my skin forever now, he cleans it, lotions it, and then wraps the tattoo in plastic. “All done,folks.”
“Thanks, man,” Tax says, standing from behind me, offering the man more than twice what we agreed topay
Bill grins, the twin rows of small teeth – top and bottom – sunken into his gums showing. “Any time. I don’t usually like to do these couple tats, but I got a feelin’ ‘bout youtwo.”
Looking down at the beautiful dark script—Taxton—across the inside of my wrist, I can’t help the smile that breaks across my face. Tax has one just like it, but with my name. It makes my chest ache and my thighs clench whenever I see it.Love.I never thought I’d have a reason to like my name. And I don’t like it—I love it. Especially when it’s on hisskin.
I take Tax’s hand as we move towards the front door of the older man’s shop. “Me too, Bill,” Tax calls out, opening the door for me. He looks down at me before smiling and whispering a repeat—for my ears alone, “metoo.”
* * *
“Where are we going?”I ask as Tax holds my hand tight, dragging me away from the stage where Cross and Blake are finishing setting up their equipment. “The show’s about tostart.”
“I know,” he says sharply. “I can’twait.”
“Wait?” I look back. “Wait forwhat?”
Tax shoves through a bathroom door, pulling me in with him. When the door closes behind us, he flips the lock in the single stall room and shoves me against the sticker covered wall. His mouth comes down against my lips hard, and I melt under him, letting my own mouth open. Tax’s head breaches my skin and brands me. I feel like I’m carrying around his own mark. Probably because I am. I run my fingers over the fabric covering his chest, looking down at his wrist, where my name sits in blackink.
“Fuck, Lovely, I can’t fucking wait to have you again.” Tax’s fingers travel south, reaching the hem of my skirt, lifting the fabric as he moves. Once he gets to where my underwear should be and realizes that I’m not wearing any, he groans deep and low. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” heswears.
I laugh, feeling light and heavy all at once, as I lift my hands to clasp them behind his neck. “But what a sweet death it’ll be,” Ipromise.
He shakes his head. “You’re not fucking wrong. Now, put your legs around my waist and take my cockout.”
Once, I would have hated someone talking to me like that. I would have felt dirty and used, but this is Tax. This is the man that saved me from the brink of darkness. Yanked me back and shoved me into the fire to let me melt. I love it when he touches me. I love the vibrations of his voice against my skin no matter what he’ssaying.
I waste no time in following his orders. I hook one knee around the notch of his hips, and he palms my thighs, helping me by pushing my back firmly against the wall. I release the back of his neck with one hand, letting my fingers find the button and zipper of his black jeans. I pop them open and slowly reach inside. My hand closes over the solid length of him and frees him from the confines of his pants. After a few pumps in my fist, Tax is gritting his teeth and glaring atme.
“You better stop that shit if you wanna get any action tonight,” hesays.
“I thought you were the one who couldn’t wait for the action,” I tease. When he merely continues glaring at me, I laugh and slowly guide him towards mycenter.
I’ve never laughed as much as I do with him. I’ve never felt as free as I do with him. Tax’s cock slips through my core, and when he thrusts, both of my hands return to the back of his neck and hold on for dear life. Every time feels like it’s something new. He slams into me in one go, his cock filling me like nothing else before. Gasps leave my lips, coming in spurts. Sometimes, I can breathe. Sometimes, I can’t. But every time I canfeeland that’s the best gift ofall.
When Tax touches me, he lights me on fire. My skin vibrates with electricity as he kisses his way down the side of my neck. “Pull your shirt up,” he begs. “I wanna see you touch those pretty nipples for me,Lovely.”
I love it when he says my nickname. He’s the only one to call me that. “I’ll do it if you take your shirt off,” Ioffer.
Tax grunts and rips his chest away from me. It is only by the grace of God—and his lower body grinding me against the wall—that keeps me up as he lifts his black t-shirt and tosses it to the floor. He comes back with a raised brow. “Well?” he prods as I reach for him and tighten my grip. “Are you gonna pinch those sweet nipples for me orwhat?”
