Page 13 of Ignite

Jazzyhands: I gotta go. My sister just showed up. She probably needs money again. Bleh, I wish she’d get a clue that I’m as broke as she is! TTFN!

She logged off before Copperpot responded and took another huge bite of her sandwich. “I’m comin’, jerkface!” she yelled around the gargantuan mass before stomping as loudly as her bare feet allowed to the back street door. “If you need money, you’ll have to hit up Hugo ’cause you still owe me from last mo?—”

Her voice died as Wolf filled the door. He squinted at her, somewhat unsteady on his feet.

Oh shit! Are you drunk? What are you doing here? How did you find me?“Doing me drunk?”Dammit! I wish the earth would open up and swallow me whole!

Wolf just looked at her. Then he groaned and leaned over the railing as he vomited into the bushes.

7

The light scentof lavender teased his nostrils, and he inhaled deep. It came from the cloud of soft hair in front of him. He floated somewhere between waking and sleeping but still became aware of the lithe body he spooned.

It was not his room or his house. He could tell that much, although he had no clue of his location. It was very rare that he spent a whole night in someone else’s bed, but apparently he had. There was a vague memory of lifting Bill off the floor, but after that, he drew a blank.

The woman in front of him stirred and pressed her bottom against his morning wood. The ache in his dick made him wonder how far they went. Must not have been very far if he was still hard and horny, not to mention he had no memory of being inside a woman last night. The room was dark, so he couldn’t see which dancer ended up in bed with him.

He swept his hand upward along a smooth rib cage, taking the sleep shirt with it. A small breast settled nicely in his hand, and he rolled the nipple into a point with his thumb. The softness of a natural breast without any enhancement filled his palm, so not Candie, thank God. Ellie had been making eyes and dropping hints lately. She was on the cusp of being too young for him, but perhaps he’d given in last night and taken her up on her offer. The woman let out a sleepy groan and arched, rubbing against his hard dick, both teasing and encouraging.

That was all he needed to push her shoulder to the bed and take that nipple into his mouth. He curled his tongue around the tight nub and slid his hand across to tease the other one. The gasp she made when he sucked it rang in his ears like music.

He kept up his ministrations for a minute before sliding his hand down her taut abdomen and into her panties. Why she had on any clothes in the first place confused him. Getting dressed after sex meant leaving, not spending the night. His fingers encountered crisp hair as they found their mark.

He yanked his hand back and nearly fell from the bed. Not one stripper at the club kept a full bush, and most shaved themselves bare. Hell, Candie even had hers lasered permanently. Who the fuck?

A reading light clicked on, one of those older ones that clamped onto a headboard. Jazz lay in front of him, clutching a quilt to her chin and eyeing him warily.

“Um… hi, Wolf.” Her voice squeaked as she greeted him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck,fuck! What did I do last night?“Jazz.” What was he supposed to say now? “Look, I’m sorry for….”For what?“Uh, why am I here?”

“You came to tell me about Bill and Madge being at the hospital.” The statement came from the cloth bundle. “Then you stumbled into my house and passed out on the bed. You told me you had a massive headache before you went down. I gave you an Imitrex injection. I get migraines, too, from time to time and have a stash on hand for when it happens. I hope that was okay.”

Wolf jammed his hands through his hair, noticing for the first time that his shirt was off, but he still had on his pants. He cleared his throat. “Jazz, did I… do anything to you?”

She shook her head. “Nothing like that happened.” He watched as her face turned a peachy shade of red. “At least, not… uh… like I said, you passed out. My sofa isn’t great to sleep on, so I thought I’d stay in my bed, too, and just wake up before you did. I guess I miscalculated. Sorry about that.”

Fuck, I’m the one who assaulted her, andshe’ssorry?“There’s nothing you need to be sorry about, Jazz. I’m the one who fucked up. I was still half asleep when I put my hands on you, but that’s no excuse. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“I forgive you, okay? I gotta get going to the bakery before I’m late.”

Wolf heard the desperate hint in her voice. “I’ll get out of your hair, then. See ya.”

He snatched his shirt from the floor and pulled the Henley over his head. “Thanks. Again.” His reply was awkward and lame as hell, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. The keys to his bike jingled reassuringly in his pocket as he bolted from the house.

* * *

Jazz blewthe bangs off her face as she dumped two portafilters at the same time. The line was still thick, but the people in it were waiting patiently for her to make their morning cup, hand it to them along with a pastry, and then collect their money. One person serving what looked like a bazillion, and she was rushing as fast as she could, all the while answering the repeated question of “Where’s Madge?”

This was actually good, as it didn’t give her any time to think about the early morning’s events.

It didn’t take her long to figure out what had happened last night. Wolf wasn’t drunk—he was in pain. His scrunched-up face was a big clue. Also his fingers pressing into his forehead and temples. Classic pressure points to relieve headaches. He delivered his message about Bill’s fall and potential injuries, and Madge needing her to cover the morning rush solo. Then he seemed to forget where he was and staggered into her bedroom to collapse on the bed. She’d brought him one of her pills and found him already passed out cold with his shirt off. This was abnormal, as migraines usually kept someone awake, but maybe Wolf was different. She watched him for several minutes as she debated on giving him an injection. It probably wasn’t ethical at all, but he was writhing in pain, so she decided it was better to ask forgiveness than permission.

Jazz packed both filters, slipped them into place, and started the machine, double shots on either side. The steamer hissed as she started frothing the milk. For no particular reason, a picture of Wolf in all his tattooed glory across her bed came into her mind. Damn, if her phone had been working, she might have snuck a picture of that. Not to share, just to keep and look at from time to time. He didn’t have one specific large piece, just a lot of smaller ones. A howling wolf on his left pec and a detailed moon on the other. A picture of a large black bird perched on a skull across his stomach with its spread wings hugging him around to his back. A plain cross surrounded by roses on his forearm. One of his nipples held a small gold ring. Everywhere she had looked, there was a piece of art on his body.

Another customer walked in to join the crowd. “Be with you in a minute!” Jazz yelled as she dumped and stirred. Most of these were to go, so they didn’t get the fancy coffee art she usually did for the ones who stayed in the shop.

She turned with two paper cups in her hands and nearly collided with Wolf. Apparently, he was the newcomer and had come behind the counter before she saw him.

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