Page 14 of The Fake Out

Olivia was into what I would call ‘vanilla sex.’ Not to her face, but when we got drunk after my break up, and I revealed I liked to get my ass slapped during sex, I thought her head would explode. It was okay to enjoy vanilla sex, but it was okay to like what I liked too. What wasn’t okay was to judge people about their desires.

“Wow, are you going to see him again?” she asked.

I gave her a sour look. “One, he lives in Canada. Two, I only do casual.”

She frowned. For the past year, Olivia had been trying to get me to see that I could find love again. I had a good guy, and then he walked away. So what was the point?

“Was he hot?” she asked instead of pressing the issue I knew she really wanted to talk about.

“So hot, like muscles on his muscles, big ass I wanted to take a bite out of and thick muscular thighs. Mmm…he was delicious.”

She laughed. “Oh, my God! Well, anyway, eat quickly because Andy left us hanging.”

I sighed, but she pulled out a piece of paper and started reading off it. “I also had someone call specifically asking for you. An Aaron Riley? Ring any bells? Rox Desjardins referred him.”

I chewed thoughtfully and sipped on the last of my coffee. The name didn’t ring any bells, but Rox did. I did a big piece on her thigh last winter. It was a collection of different-sized blue snowflakes running from the top of her hip to mid-thigh. If she was bringing me more clients, I might do her touch-ups for free. Okay, not really because I needed the money, but it was cool she was referring people to me.

I held my hand out, and Olivia handed me the schedule book so I could look over my clients for the day. “Can you call him and tell him I have an opening today?”

She nodded. “You got it, boss. But hurry up. You have an appointment in ten.”

I groaned but threw my garbage in the trash can. I took a quick trip to the bathroom. There was a bite mark on my neck, and that made me smile. Blaise Holmstrom was an interesting man. I was glad to help with rebound sex to get over his ex, especially after he melted my brain with unending orgasms. I hoped he came into the shop soon to get that tattoo on his chest covered up. Maybe it would help him get over her for good.

I fingered the lotus petal on the inside of my wrist, where it covered my ex’s name. There was a reason I refused to tattoo lover’s names on client’s skin and also why cover-ups had become my thing. I didn’t want anyone to end up like me.

Chapter Five

BLAISE

“Are you just getting home?”

My youngest brother Michael fixed me with a raised eyebrow when I walked into the door of our dad’s row house in South Philly.

Being one of six meant you were never alone. It had been nice growing up when Dad was so distant with everyone after Mom’s death, but now that I was a grown-ass man and living with Dad again, it was irritating.

“Yeah, why?” I asked dryly.

I was tired and irritable after a night of no sleep. Not that I regretted spending it with Veronica. She was hot, and that lady rocked my world. The mental image of using her vibrator on her was locked away in my spank bank for the future. Holy hell, was that hot.

Michael sat on the couch with his laptop in front of him, and I knew that meant he was working on his book. Michael was an amazing hockey player, but he had no aspirations to play professionally. Which was surprising when you looked at our family. Nope, what career aspirations did my brother have? To be a romance writer! Which had been so weird to me. He swore me to secrecy and then chastised me when I thought only women wrote those kinds of books. Oh, my baby brother gave me a lesson on that for sure.

“Dad was looking for you,” Michael said.

I sighed and slumped down on the couch next to him. “Did he say what he wanted?”

“To train with you.”

I groaned again and closed my eyes. I was exhausted, and the last thing I wanted to do was train like a dog with Dad. He could be more hardcore than any of my trainers.

Michael tried to hide his laughter as he typed away at his computer. “You look like shit.”

I gave him the finger. “I had a late night.”

“Hmm.”

I slanted open an eye. “What?”

“Nothing.”