“What?” Greer asks the same time hunk replies, “1955.”
Sketching in “Dad” with a classic scrawling script through the bottom of the cross, I write the year he was born on one end and the year he died—which I had in the appointment book—on the other side of it.
Handing it over to Greer, I grab one of the boxes of ink and take it back to the supply closet, calling over my shoulder, “I’d do Dad in dark blue with a black outline or even some shading, make it stand out a bit.”
As I put my gear away, I can hear them mumbling back and forth to each other. I’m not sure if I should be insulted or amused by the fact that Greer can’t accept I am Jet Ryhan.
My employees know not to give away my gender when making appointments for people specifically requesting me because when I first opened the shop, I was a na?ve young girl. My name sounds like a man’s, so that’s what people expected. And not to toot my own horn, but my shit is the shit. So equating quality work with a woman doesn’t always mean people think a woman can do it, and I’ve now become a enigma of sorts.
Which is stupid as fuck if you ask me. But what the fuck do I know, I’m just a woman.
Greer
“Holy…”
“Fuck,” Eli finishes before I can.
Her mouth.
Those legs.
Fuck me lips so plump I can almost feel their cherry red color wrapped around my cock so tight I’ll never move again.
“You see those lips?” Eli whispers to me.
“Oh, I see them all right,” I whisper back.
“Can you imagine them…?”
“Imagined and ingrained.”
I watch as she bends, stretches, and twists to put all her supplies away, and all I can imagine is the many ways I can bend her over backwards and anything else she’ll let us do to her.
Fuck, I internally groan.
I haven’t been this randy over a girl in years. What the fuck’s so special about her? She’s got attitude a mile wide and a mouth dirtier than sin.
Yet her eyes hold this vulnerability that she probably doesn’t even realize is there.
While pondering my attraction to her, she walks back to us. “So what do you think?”
“Think?” I ask stupidly, caught in the movement of her delicious red lips.
She smirks like she knows I’m caught. “Of the sketch, Blondie.” I wanna give her smart mouth something to chew on instead of spouting off at me.
“I like it.”
Eli seems to be drooling too much to say anything at all. Looking out the corner of my eye, I can tell he’s trying to get another peek at her luscious ass.
“Great. Where do you want it?”
Eli suddenly slaps his hand on my chest so hard I lose my breath as he says, “Right over his heart.”
“Motherfucker! Dude! What the fuck?” What’d he do? Eat Wheaties for breakfast? My pec stings from the hit. I’m no slouch, but fuck that hurt.
“What? Just preparing ya for the needle is all.” His face tries to show innocence, but I recognize the laughter.
“Dickwad.”
“If you ladies are done bickering, why don’t you follow me? I’ll be gentle; I promise.” I know she doesn’t mean that to be dirty or sexy, but her voice is seductive. Soft, sensual with an undertone of need.
Eli trails behind her like a love sick puppy, and I want to make fun of him except I do the same thing. I believe this girl could walk off a cliff, and I’d happily follow her.
We’re so fucked.
Eli
I wanna lick her all over.
The attitude, the sass, her motherfucking mouth.
Yup, I’m done.
Goner.
Her ass will be in my hands the first chance I get.
“All right, Blondie, have a seat here. Hulk, grab a stool and shut it,” she demands as she goes to the cabinets along the wall and pulls out inks, new needles for her gun, and the other needed supplies. “I’ll be right back, just have to print this out.”
As she walks from the room, I strain to see her go, not wanting my eyes to lose her.
“You’re gonna fall, man.” Greer laughs like he’s not trying to do that exact thing.
I have no words. She’s fine as fuck, and I can’t deny I’m watching her.
As Jet comes out of the copy room, I quickly sit back up and damn near fall off the chair I’m sitting on. Thankfully, she’s not paying attention to me.
“Shirt off, Blondie.” She demands from Greer.
I’m watching her so closely, I can see her swallow hard as he does. Her eyes roam over his bare chest. Only a sprinkling of blond hair covers him, and most of it trails down to his dick. Which if I’m not mistaken, is growing the more she watches him.
Looking up, I see his gaze hold hers as she basically eye fucks him.
The more they watch each other, the harder Greer’s dick seems to get. So I clear my throat to stop the embarrassment that is bound to happen and knowing Greer, he won’t say a thing to lessen it.
“Right,” she mumbles, “I’m just gonna clean you up and shave the area, then we’ll place this on your mus– uhh…chest to see if you like it.”
Fuck me sideways, she’s blushing.