21

HAYDEN


“Are you sure we need to wait a week?” Tenley’s knees pressed against my hips, squeezing. At least her hands hadn’t migrated south again.

“I’m sure. A week will be just long enough that I won’t have to worry about going too easy on you.” There went my mouth, working before my brain again.

I shouldn’t have been entertaining ideas of taking Tenley over the kitchen counter when her ink was barely twelve hours old, but it gave me a diversion from addressing the real issues, and Tenley seemed to want the distraction, too.

Instead of acting on the barrage of explicit fantasies running through my head, I lifted Tenley off the counter, careful to avoid the tattoo. It took her a few seconds to find her footing. She looked tired and her eyes were glassy. I sensed she was hurting and didn’t want me to know. It would be just like her to marinate in the pain.

Now that Sarah had told me the extent of Tenley’s accident, I couldn’t undo the knowledge. If Tenley had just lost her parents in the crash, I would have had faith that she could get past it. But her circumstances were much more extreme. I understood the nightmares now. The energy it would take to get out of bed every day and face the world would be nearly insurmountable.

I wasn’t stupid enough to make her talk about it today. Not after watching her fall apart last night or seeing how she was managing this morning. She wasn’t in any state to cope with an intense, truthful conversation.

Besides, I was concerned about what Sarah might have told her. So far it looked like the only problem I had was Sienna. Unfortunately, she was a big fucking problem. After my temper tantrum at Inked Armor, she would definitely be back to torment me some more. I still wasn’t keen on explaining her to Tenley, but I couldn’t avoid the topic indefinitely. I needed time to plan what I was going to tell her.

I watched Tenley putter around the kitchen, preparing to decorate her cupcakes. It was serious business. When I tried to dip a finger into the bowl of fluffy white heaven, she smacked my hand and wrinkled her nose.

“That’s disgusting. Wash your hands!”

“You let me do it earlier.”

“But that was before your hands were—” She motioned to herself and then to me.

“Oh, right. Because pussy-flavored icing is only really appealing to me,” I said, just to get a rise out of her. It worked.

Tenley pointed her spatula at me, her face turning the color of poppies. “Stop it! That’s just . . . ew!”

Sarah barged in before I could reply, which was probably a good thing. She was holding two cups of coffee. Her smile dropped when she saw me. “What a surprise. Sorry, I only have two hands.” She gave me a look that told me she wouldn’t have brought me a damn thing even if she’d had three hands.

“That’s cool. I brought coffees for all of us,” I replied as I gestured to the forgotten to-go cups.

“Oh, that was . . . nice of you.” She seemed flustered.

As though being covered in tattoos and steel made me incapable of courteous behavior.

“You’ll need to reheat it, I’ve been here for a while.” I cracked the lid on my coffee and smiled over the lip. It was barely lukewarm.

Using a mug from Tenley’s cupboard, I dumped in the contents of my take-out coffee and put it in the microwave. Forty-three seconds later, my coffee was steaming again. I leaned against the counter, noting the awkwardness that came with Sarah’s presence. Tenley seemed nervous, and I could only hypothesize that having us both in the same space was the cause.

When Tenley finished putting icing into funnel-shaped bags, she tested the cupcakes. Apparently they were still too warm, so she excused herself to the bathroom.

As soon as she disappeared, I turned to Sarah. “How was her night?”

“Not great. She was restless, and she kept asking for you.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I would have come back.”

“She was talking in her sleep.”

“You still could have called. How was she this morning? What did you tell her?” I glanced over at the bathroom. I couldn’t hear water running yet, so I still had time for questions.

“She was okay. She doesn’t remember much. If you’re asking if I told her how you got your shining rep at my work, I didn’t share what I’ve heard.”

“Seriously?”

“I didn’t do it for you.” She sipped her coffee, glaring at me from over the rim. “I’m on the fence about whether or not I should trust you. I kept my mouth shut because she can’t handle that kind of crap unloaded on her. I won’t say anything unless you give me a reason to do otherwise.”

“I promise I’ll take care of her.”

“So will I,” she countered.

I was fortunate Sarah seemed perceptive enough not to push Tenley’s limits. If we only shared common ground on one thing, caring about Tenley seemed a good place to start.

“If you mean that, you won’t get her high again.”

“It was just a little green.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “From what I’ve heard, it’s nothing compared to what you’ve done.”

“I haven’t touched that shit in years. I assume you’re getting your goods from Damen.” Her lack of response was enough. “You don’t want to get involved with him. He laces his product, and Tenley’s already got a cabinet full of prescriptions from the accident. I don’t need her developing any problematic habits.” Based on the contents of the cabinet, I couldn’t be sure she didn’t already have one, but I wasn’t going to confide that to Sarah.

She looked shocked, and a little guilty, which was good. “I didn’t think about that.”

“Obviously not.”

The bathroom door opened, and Tenley came out, moving like an eighty-year-old.

“I should go. I’ve got assignments to work on,” Sarah said as Tenley returned to the kitchen.

“Thanks for staying last night, and sorry if I kept you up,” Tenley told her.

Sarah gave Tenley a tentative hug. “Call me if you need anything.”

As nice as the offer was, it was unnecessary. I planned to be available to service all of Tenley’s needs.

Once she was gone, I stroked along Tenley’s arm. “I’d like to wash your back now.”

I took her hand and guided her to the bathroom. If shit hadn’t gone down last night, I would have removed the plastic wrap and cleaned the tattoo before she went to bed. However, things hadn’t gone as planned.

“Where do you want me?” Tenley asked when we were both standing on the black mat covering the tile floor.

There were a variety of answers to that question. I wanted to take her sitting on the vanity, where I could see my art reflected in the mirror and her face close to mine. I wanted to bend her over that same vanity to experience the opposite view. And that was just for starters.

I motioned to the edge of the tub. “There is good.”

Tenley took a seat while I collected items from her linen closet. The navy towels were a safe bet, saving her pale ones from being ruined with ink stains. The first step was to clean off the excess fluids so the tattoo would heal properly. It wasn’t going to feel good.

When I turned around, Tenley had already removed the apron and her shorts. There was no underwear. She sat demurely on the edge of the tub, legs crossed, hands cupping her breasts, the picture of modesty. I gripped the towel in my hand, staring at her naked, perfectly imperfect body, with its scars and markers of past trauma.

“I thought this would make it easier,” she said with apologetic innocence.

“I’m sure you did.”

She reached for the towel in my hand, presumably to cover herself, but I held it out of reach. I dropped down beside her, taking in the soft swell of her bare ass on the white porcelain rim of the tub. I thought the apron and the shorts in the kitchen had been bad. Oh, how wrong I was. Tenley naked and vulnerable and needy was harder to resist. Maybe part of the problem stemmed from the knowledge that what was coming next would be far from pleasurable. Cleaning her tattoo was necessary, but it was also a catch-22. Based on my physical response to seeing her naked with my art on her skin, the weeklong hiatus would be torture. Especially if she was actively seeking to break me. And I couldn’t blame her for trying. Like Lisa had said, emotions were always heightened after a big session. Tenley was obviously no exception to the rule, so it was up to me to stay in check for as long as I could.

I turned on the water and adjusted the showerhead to the rain setting. While the water warmed, I explained the process step by step to eliminate surprises. She nodded or made a little noise of affirmation but remained silent otherwise. Even though I warned her before letting the water hit her back, she still tried to move away from the spray and the unpleasant sensation. TK mewed at me from her place by the door, clearly concerned about the welfare of her soul mate. Causing Tenley pain made me feel like shit, but it was a means to an end for her, one I understood better because of what the piece represented.

Once the residual fluids were washed away, I lathered up the bar of soap. I went slow, going over the easy parts first, working from her shoulder to her hip, one side at a time. Tenley was patient but tense. I leaned in every so often to drop a kiss on her cheek or her neck and tell her how good she was doing.

“I’m really sorry I lied to you,” she whispered when I was almost finished washing the fresh ink.

“I know.” I smoothed the soap over her skin with extra care. It was such an uncomfortable process. I hated the possibility that she might see it as penance for being dishonest.