Page 63 of Omega Artist
“If you’d let me finish…” She swallows painfully. “What I meant was it’s funny because Graham told me the same at one point… and look where it got us!”
“I’m no Graham.”
“And why wouldn’t my best friend deserve a second chance at love?”
“It’s not love, Soraya. It’s lust, at most.”
She waves her hand dismissively. “Enough…” She lets out a frustrated growl. “Like I said, it’s a major step. I didn’t think it would ever happen. I knew that you liked Alie… We all love her, by the way. Stop denying your genuine affection for her, dammit.” The elephant in the room is getting bigger by the second, but Soraya never disappoints. At once, her hand covers mine, and she straightens her posture as her eyes dart to mine. “I miss Delia every single day, Theodore.” She hasn’t called me by my given name in over a decade. Her tone is soft, but it feels like a slap in the face. “A part of us died the day Delia did.” I fidget, my front teeth worrying my lower lip. Every time I hear her utter my late wife’s name, my heart lurches. We haven’t mentioned her in so long. God, I miss Delia so fucking much! “Listen, I saw how you looked at her, but this…” Her hand lifts to cover my broken heart, and my eyes follow the movement. “It’s still beating, just like mine is. We’re alive. Delia would want us to be happy… She would wantyouto be happy. Look at me…” I swallow the lump in my parched throat and comply. “You’re a good person, Theodore Ian Gregory. You deserve happiness. It doesn’t mean that you’re betraying Delia… Give it time and allow yourself to experience this.” My stomach churns.
Before I realize it, tears are rolling down my cheeks. Aside from the time that I let a silent tear fall in front of Alie, this has never happened… because, you know, boys don’t cry, right? But I don’t care anymore. Crying quickly turns to weeping. Weeping quickly turns to sobbing. Sobbing quickly turns to bawling. Soraya scoots my way, her arm circling my broad shoulder as I break down, my forehead resting on her small shoulder. The sorrow that I’ve kept bottled up for years escapes with my tears, until I have none left.
Sooner or later, Lorenzo helps me to regroup by making us aware that he’s awake. His mother gets up from the couch, and I snag her wrist to mouth a thank you before she leaves to attend to him.
“Anytime.”
* * *
Later that day,Alie texts me to suggest going to a movie after work. I closed the shop from the inside after Claire left about an hour ago. Whenever I’m alone in the shop, I make my rounds to check that everything is set for the next day. I’m on my way back to the front when I notice that Alie’s knocking on the glass door.
Both pleased and surprised, my breath catches at the view. I wasn’t expecting to see her here; we agreed to meet at the theater. Besides, she’s hot as fuck. Licking my lips, I pause to take her in before moving to unlock the door.
Today’s been a typical spring day in Manhattan. Sunny weather. Blue sky. Warm air. Since she’s dressed lightly, I can tell that the early evening chill that sometimes threatens hasn’t set in yet. Her cream-colored leather jacket is folded over her forearm. Her cropped khaki pants that match the color of her jacket fit her curves as if they were made for her. Her basic black V-neck tee-shirt hugs her ample rack in the most appealing way and shows off her flat stomach.Albertgets the message, loud and clear.
Yeah, lust is definitely part of the equation.
“I was early, so I figured that it was easier to find you here.” Her smile is infectious and I smile right back, intertwining my fingers with hers as I guide her inside. “That way you can give me the grand tour.”
“My pleasure.” I lock the front door, not letting go of her hand, and she takes a few steps into the entryway. She’s quiet, squinting her eyes and scrutinizing everything. The beat-up brown chesterfield sofa. The earth tone paintings. The modern counter. “Come here.” My voice is huskier than usual as my heated body gently presses her back against said counter. I grind against her and steal a scorching kiss that she gladly returns. My body hums with wild desire, and suddenly the scary movie doesn’t sound appealing anymore. Enthralled, I barely hear the thump next to us. When Alie’s embrace tightens around me, I grasp that she dropped her beloved black purse, although I’ve noticed that she never lets it touch the ground. Before my need for her eliminates what’s left of my common sense and I fuck her on the counter for everyone to see through the glass door, I reluctantly tear my mouth from hers and articulate a breathy, “Why don’t I give you the requested tour?” I separate my body from hers and instantly miss it. But then again, no tour will happen if I keep grinding my cock against her core.
My hand in hers, I stand beside her behind the counter and flip through the catalogs that we keep on hand for people who need inspiration. There’s drawings and pictures of my art as well as Claire’s. She works her way through a few specialized magazines that are also laid out on the glossy countertop, sharing her opinions regarding the designs as she goes.
“I had no idea that each artist had their own area of expertise,” she acknowledges after a moment. Her eyes widen. “The variety is amazing.”
“Sure is. For example, I don’t do colored tattoos. The color fades faster, so it has to be touched up along the way.” I point out some of my own work as we discuss my art for the first time, really. The conversation is easy, and I’m glad that she popped up so that we could spend some quality time together before the movie starts. “You like this one?” I inquire when her hand splays on the page in such a way that one particular tattoo shows through her fingers. A cage. A bird. A key. Her breath hitches for no reason, and I tilt my head to peer at her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. This tattoo… brought back a memory that I wasn’t prepared to be reminded of.” She shakes her head. “Do you mind showing me the rest of the place?” And with that, she saunters towards the back and gestures for me to join her. Her blonde hair has grown a bit. I guess she’s had enough of the pixie cut. Her face is so well-proportioned that both suit her.
Man, you’re falling hard for this girl. Soraya’s right. Tell her!
That’s my angelic side talking, and it’s my turn to shake my head in disbelief. Almost immediately, my inner demon chimes in.
She’s longing to be thoroughly fucked. Go to the back. Do it!
Our eyes lock and from the raunchy once-over that she shoots my way, I know which part of me has the accurate version. I make a point to ignore the fact that they’re not mutually exclusive.
Well aware of why we ended up here, we play cat and mouse for a bit longer. I have a strict rule of not bringing hookups to my workplace. I broke it once when I was too desperate to bury myself in any hole I could find. I shouldn’t have done it. The woman in question didn’t listen to my warnings regarding my commitment issues. The woman in question didn’t understand why I broke up with her after seeing her a couple of times, breaking yet another one of my rules. The woman in question didn’t let it go easily, and I caught her following me everywhere for a while.
This is different. Alie’s different. I’m different. And Alie said it herself: she’s not most women.
I guess I’ll have to get to work earlier tomorrow morning to sanitize my station.
This is my sole thought as I slide into her from behind after my tongue and my fingers tease her pussy. Her upper body is bent over the massage table by the tattoo chair, where clients lie or sit when I ink on their bodies. Her shapely legs are spread as wide as possible in a sexy stripper stance. Her glorious ass is on full display for me to admire.
There are expletives. There’s friction. There are orgasms. One for each of us…
Panting, she turns to face me, her eyes half-mast, a wicked grin on her face. Her cheeks are rosy from our workout. Blissed out, I ignore the fact that I look ridiculous with my pants and boxer briefs bunched around my ankles, once again, and discard the condom in the nearest trash can. Subsequently, I swivel to grab some items from the nearby sink area to clean us up. I proceed in silence, catching my breath. She moans in appreciation, guiding my every move. We stare at one another, waiting for our high to subside.
“We missed the movie.” She shrugs, buttoning her pants.
