Page 65 of Omega Artist
“Since you brought lube into the conversation. Now I have the perfect visual, and I’ve never seen the guy.” Tossing the box and bottle onto the king size bed opposite me, she clasps her hands together, the blindfold still laced around her fingers. In a flash, she’s speeding towards me. I don’t have time to deposit my Tod’s pumps into the bag before she crashes into me, pushing me onto the bed and making us both roll over while laughing our asses off.
“How mature of you!” I exclaim, breathless from my hysterical belly laugh and keep my shirt tucked in. Trying to conceal my chest was a challenge that I hadn’t anticipated prior to suggesting that Greer come over. Mystripper tits, as my lover calls them! He was so apologetic when he let it slip. I was so amused that he did and found enjoyment in a body part that I hated. We were so excited to see the results once the swelling subsided, thanks to his gorgeous design executed over my scars.
No. Can. Do.
Out of breath, I reach for my phone on the nightstand to check the time, wondering what the heck Tig’s doing. I notice a text informing me that he’ll be thirty minutes late. With that, I decide to give Greer something to fuss about. Something that she won’t be able to stop poring over while I’m gone. Something that I haven’t told anyone… yet. Something namedAlbert.
Her blush alone is worth my admission. Her widening eyes as I explain that, like every jewel, it’s sometimes better to take it off, are an added bonus.
“I can’t believe you found a guy that’s kinkier than you.”
Oh, you have no idea!
That’s when my phone trills.
Perfect timing.
I text Tig that I’ll be right down and tell Greer that she’s welcome to stay here as long as she wants, considering that it’s prepaid.
“You wish!” She springs off of the bed, snatches my travel bag, and suggests, “Grab your purse and meet me downstairs!”
Before I have the chance to stop her, she slams the door, leaving me behind in the room.
Speechless.
* * *
It tookthe entire drive to the Hamptons for me to calm down after Greer’s sneaky stunt. First, she sprinted outside and chatted with Tig. Second, she bombarded me with texts—about his striking appearance that differed from most of my suitors—for an hour. Third, she made me promise to come clean with the full story; I promised to do so. Someday.
“I saw how Greer stared at me, you know.” Tig’s eyes are downcast as he paces the living room of Graham’s friends’ beach house where we’re staying for this extended weekend. “Same way Graham looked down at me when we met.”
Motown is playing through the living room speakers, lending a JFK era vibe to the place… except that, at the time, tattoos were probably reserved for cons and sailors!
We just came back from dinner with Soraya, Lorenzo, and Graham, who refused to allow us to chip in. He claimed that, since we’re here to celebrate his daughter’s birthday on Sunday, it’s the least he could do.
Tig’s been preoccupied throughout dinner, barely touching his gourmet food. Thank God, Soraya managed to make it appear as if the four of us were having an actual conversation, and I played along.
I sigh as I quietly approach him from behind and wrap my arms around his waist, resting my face on his back. “Knowing Greer like I do, she wasn’t judgmental. She’s cool, really.” I’m annoyed that Greer’s behavior affects this truly handsome man so much. Granted, I’d been the first to disparage what I considered to be his fabricated bad boy aura and everything he represented when I Googled him months ago. Looking at him now, with my mission on hold, all I see is a gorgeous broken guy who’s trying to make it through dark times. Precisely like me. His wordless answer comes in the form of a shrug. “I guess that she simply pictured you differently.” Once again, he doesn’t answer and grumbles instead. “You know what? Why don’t I open the outrageously expensive bottle of wine we bought earlier and sit down for this conversation?” In an instant, I feel his shoulders relax. I kiss his covered back and go to the wine cellar that’s hidden under the staircase.
I walk towards him with my drink in one hand and a tall glass of seltzer in the other. His current posture worries me. He’s studying the floor with his elbows on his knees and raking his fingers through his longer wavy hair. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that something’s bothering him. And he’s keeping it from me; my stupid heart lurches at the thought. I can’t believe that it’s all due to Greer.
We clink glasses. “Thanks for being so thoughtful, Aliénor.” I turn to mush when he utters my name with his sexy accent. Puzzled, I glance at him and take a seat beside him and rubbing his back. “The seltzer.”
I nod, my fingers reaching for his. “Are you okay?”
He nods, stroking his thumb against my palm. “Just overthinking things when I should be focused on the moment.”
I kiss his forehead. “Thank you for asking me to tag along.”
“You’re welcome. You know how excited Chloe is to meet you, right?” I grin. We’ve talked about his unique friendship with Graham’s daughter many times since it first came up on New Year’s Eve. A friendship that’s further complicated by her mother, who’s not Tig’s strongest supporter. “To be honest, I never thought you’d agree to come.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence! Are you disappointed that I accepted?” I tease, elbowing him.
With that, he growls, puts his glass down, and steals a sloppy kiss from my ever-willing mouth while I grasp my wine tighter. His upper body suddenly brushes against mine, sending naughty signals as our tongues dance, fighting for dominance as usual. There’s always been an urgency in his kisses that I revel in. I didn’t comprehend why until he confessed about his wife’s passing. A tragic accident that sent him straight to Hell, then back to the living, courtesy of his best friend. That makes us both survivors in a way and must be why having him to remedy my cancer-marred skin felt so natural.
And he succeeded. Patiently. Skillfully. Beautifully. I haven’t shown my upper body to anyone but him. Since my hospital stay. Since my random encounters. Since my ink healed. It was about time he reaped his reward. Unfortunately, his TLC wasn’t able to restore full sensation. I’m not a faker and won’t pretend to feel anything that I don’t. At leastAlbertis happy to be squished between my girls; this is one of the instances where Tig removes his jewel. I had no idea it was a possibility.
In a swift move, my lover plucks my glass from my hand and sets it on the coffee table, pulling my lax body onto his lap and I straddle him. He tears his mouth from mine and pins my gaze with his. The fire in his eyes is palpable. “What are you doing to me?” His voice is a mix of wonder, despair, and bliss.
