Hook & Ladder 69: Eighteen Authors...One Sexy Firehouse. Page 15

  “Thanks, I’m Mitch.” They bumped elbows, which made me laugh a little. Larry took being sanitary ridiculously seriously, which was one of the things I really respected about him as a tattoo artist.

  “How do you like him?” Mitch looked down at me as his smile widened.

  Soaked.

  Right on the spot.

  Holy fuck.

  Hook.

  Line.

  Sinker.

  “Only guy I let touch my skin. He’s fast, doesn’t rip you apart, and the ink heals easily.”

  He nodded and licked his lips, eyeing me up and down. “Nice. Very nice. Just getting off of your probation?”

  I laughed a little as Larry started to shade a bit. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

  “That’s when I got mine too. I’ve been a fireman for almost ten years. Just took a job out here. I start tomorrow.” Mitch rubbed the back of his neck. “Thought about getting a piece done to celebrate the move and the change in my life.”

  “Oh, awesome,” I stammered through gritted teeth. Talking and getting tatted were not things I could do well at the same time. I had to zone out through the pain or I felt every prick from that sharp ass needle and it drove me insane.

  “I’ll be done with Candi in less than an hour. Wanna chat about what you were thinking about getting when we’re done here?”

  Music to my ears: we were almost done! I shut my eyes and popped my headphone back in, turning the volume all the way up right after hearing Mitch say, “Sounds like a plan, brother.”

  “Fucking sick, dude! Oz is going to freak when he sees this!”

  Larry ripped off his gloves, chuckling a bit. “You need to get that punk back in here for some more ink. It’s been forever!”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ll see what I can do.”

  I had Larry snap a quick picture of my newest masterpiece before wrapping me up. Within seconds of sending the picture off to Oz, he responded.

  Oz: Holy hell, girl! That is one way to celebrate for damn sure!

  Me: Haha yup! My shift tomorrow is going to be interesting to say the least.

  Oz: Can’t wait to see it in person.

  Me: Getting into anything tonight?

  Oz: Nah, shift in the morning means early to bed for this guy.

  Me: Lame. See you bright and early.

  Oz: You know it.

  Mitch walked over to me with a shit-eating grin on his face while I sat staring at my forearm as the ink bled out a bit and rolled onto the table. “That is one badass piece. It matches mine.” He pulled up his shirt to show me his chiseled chest, which was decorated with one of the more gorgeous pieces I had ever seen, a complete shrine to his love for the work we did. “Doing anything after this?” His low, raspy voice sent shudders down my spine; it had been too long since I’d felt something like that.

  I shrugged. “No one is really doing anything. I was thinking of heading home, ordering a pizza, and nursing this bad boy. I have a shift in the morning.”

  Mitch nodded. “Well, I’m new to town and don’t report to my station until the afternoon. Want to show me around a bit? Maybe grab a drink?”

  Larry wiped off my arm and winked at me subtly. He knew how long it had been since Joshua had cheated and knocked the bitch up; those scars had run deep for a while, but I was finally coming out of my fog.

  “Yeah, sure, why the heck not?”

  Mitch sat down in the chair next to Larry. “Awesome. You want to head home and take care of that then you can text me when you’re ready? Just let me know where to meet you.”

  How is it this easy?

  “Okay. Sounds good.”

  Larry wrapped plastic around my arm. “You know the drill, Candi. When you get home: wash, ice, lotion.”

  “Yup.” I hopped off the table, grabbing Mitch’s phone right out of his hand.

  If he gets to be forward, so do I.

  I typed my number into a new text window and shot myself a winky face emoji.

  “I’ll text you in a bit.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  I handed Mitch back his phone, hugged Larry, and was on my way home to deal with the burning, angry skin that had just been beautifully inked.

  Mitch

  I watched as the cute blonde waggled her hips in her low-rise jeans as she walked out of the tattoo shop.

  Damn it.

  Another fucking blonde.

  They were definitely my weakness, and she hit my type to a fucking T: short, blonde, sassy, fit; add in the fact that she was inked and I may as well have dropped to my fucking knee right on the spot.

  “So, dude, what were you thinking?”

  Larry’s beard was graying around his mouth and I stared at his crow’s feet for a second while I tried to figure out the best way to explain how I wanted to memorialize my entire world shifting on its axis.

  I rolled up the left side of my shirt to reveal her name. Big scrolling letters in purple ink blared up at me, burning my retinas like the sun glaring off the water had the morning she’d packed up her shit and left me for her rocker dreamboat.

  Never again.

  “An ex?”

  I nodded, glaring down at California running down my side. “I need this gone.”

  “Who names their kid California anyway?” Larry rolled his eyes while he chuckled to himself.

  I shrugged. “Idiots, I’m pretty sure.”

  Larry stared at my side and pulled out some tracing paper. “I’m going to sketch this and take a few pictures.”

  “Go for it, dude. She needs to be in the fucking past. I was thinking a phoenix, or something like that. Color, huge, whatever you have to do.”

  I took a few shallow breaths in and out, standing in the middle of the shop like a fucking goober, holding up my shirt while Larry did his thing.

  It only took a few minutes, then an appointment was made, numbers were exchanged, and I was loose in a city I didn’t know one person in. I didn’t even really know how to get around.

  St. Louis hadn’t been my first choice by any means, but it had been the first place to accept my application, and I was gone before any of the recent events in my life could really be processed.

  Cali was on the road with Maverick and his band The Hysterics, Walker and Mags were brand new parents, my dad was starting a new relationship and finally getting over his cheating-whore-of-an-ex-wife, and I was in limbo, barely treading water.

  Such is life.

  Taking in the warm night air, I walked the few blocks to my brand new apartment. It was the most depressing part of the entire move because it was fucking breathtaking—ash gray hardwood flooring, white granite counters, dark brown cabinets, a gorgeous city view—and I didn’t have anyone to share it with. I had my bed set up and my TV mounted on the wall in my bedroom and that was it. Procrastination had gotten the better of me. The rest would come when it did; I didn’t really care at that point.

  Opening my fridge, I knew the only thing in there was going to be beer; it was perfectly bachelor-esque and I fucking loved it. It had been a few years since I had lived on my own, without my dad or a chick breathing down my neck, and I was going to soak up every minute of that freedom.

  There is always a silver lining.

  I cracked open a Bud Heavy and made my way to relax on my king-sized, pillow-topped cloud of a bed, hoping to catch the end of the Lightning game.

  My boots were about to drop to the floor when my phone vibrated in my pocket.

  Candi: Hey, are you still down to hang out tonight?

  I liked that she was all right with texting first. I hated the games of dating—totally not my thing.

  Me: For sure. Where are we meeting?

  Candi sent me the address of a pub that was only about ten minutes from my apartment. I chugged my beer, changed my shirt three times, felt ridiculous for feeling nervous, and ordered an Uber, all in a matter of minutes.

  The drive to the bar was short and awkward. I never knew what to say to random d
rivers but until my truck was shipped from Orlando in a few weeks, Uber was going to be my saving grace.

  “New around here?” the driver asked in a hoarse voice.

  I cleared my throat. “Yeah, just moved here.”

  “Liking it so far?”

  I had no fucking clue; I’d only been able to call St. Louis my new home for a few hours. “From what I have seen of it, so far so good.”

  We pulled off to the shoulder in front of Irish Kevin’s.

  “Well, welcome to my hometown. Hope it treats you well.”

  At least he was a nice guy.

  “Thanks man. Have a good night.”

  I took a few deep breaths, shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans, and rocked back and forth on my heels. Should I go in or wait for her out here?

  It had been fucking forever since I’d “met a girl for drinks”; I had no idea how it actually worked.

  “Mitch!” I spun around to see Candi walking up the sidewalk toward me in heels, a miniskirt that showed off an awesome sugar skull thigh piece, and a flowing white tank top her tits were about to pop out of. Holy hotness!

  I gave her a quick wave.

  Smooth.

  Real smooth, jackass.

  “Hey you!”

  I went in for a half hug, and it was awkward, interesting, intoxicating. Her makeup was done, she smelled like lilacs, and she was the perfect height to wrap up in my arms.

  I grabbed her right hand; her forearm was glistening in the yellow street light glow from the lotion she’d put on. It was a little puffy, but still freaking gorgeous.

  “How’s it feeling?”

  She shrugged, grabbing the front doors of the bar. “It’s not as bad as my back, so I will take it.”

  She laughed a little. I wanted to grab on to the sound and hold it close—that’s how cute her laugh was. The best part was that her smile started at her eyes and took over her entire being, all just from one little giggle.

  Get a fucking grip man.

  Candi

  Mitch was hilarious. From the moment we walked into the pub, I was in stitches. Maybe my nerves had something to do with it, but his light blue eyes, his crooked smirk, the way he actually made eye contact with me when I was talking, how he was acting completely normal—like we were old friends catching up, not two strangers wondering if we were going to bone by the end of the night—it all made me so comfortable, which made me even more nervous.

  “So anyway, to make a long story short, I caught the cheating bitch with my dad’s business partner. It was a fucking shit show and a half, but I’m glad they are both gone and my dad finally is moving on.”

  “Wow, yeah, sometimes people really can pull the wool over your eyes.”

  The bartender brought us another round of Bud Lights.

  “I have to say, it’s nice to just sit in a quiet bar and have a few drinks with someone I can actually talk to.” Mitch’s smile faded into a hard line as he picked at the corner of the bottle’s label. “Leaving everything and everyone was a hard pill to swallow, but I know it is for the best.”

  “So, why here?”

  “I would have gone anywhere, I just found a job here first and was gone.”

  “Why the sense of urgency to leave Florida?”

  He paused and took a sharp breath in. “I was dumped by the woman I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with. The thing that sucks is that I knew before she and I even started whatever it was we were doing that she was in love with this guy, but I talked her out of being with him to be with me. I knew it was selfish and I wasn’t surprised when she picked a famous rock star over a firefighter.”

  “Wait? Like actually famous? Anyone I would know?”

  He stared down at the bar top as he mumbled, “Maverick Steele from The Hysterics.”

  Wrong time to take a swig of my beer—it literally went up my nose and I started to choke. Mitch patted me on the back a few times until I could finally form words.

  “Holy fuck!” Cough—choke—gasp—cough.

  He laughed a little. “Yeah, I would leave me for him too.”

  I blushed a little; I mean, Maverick Steele was hotter than hot and The Hysterics were one of the biggest current bands.

  I looked at the bartender, waving him over. “Two shots of chilled Jameson please.”

  Mitch grabbed my hand. “Shots?”

  His smirk was back and a fire was lit in my belly. “Yes. Shots.” I winked at him and held my shot glass up to his high in the air. “Here’s to honor. Hitting honor, getting honor, staying honor…and if you can’t come in her, come honor.”

  Mitch laughed a little. “You’re something else, you know that?”

  I threw my shot back. “I am surrounded by dirty men all day, what do you expect?”

  “Touché.”

  The rest of the time we spent at the bar was a little hazy. Looking down at my arm, I could tell I needed to ice it again. I guess my face gave me away because right then, Mitch asked for the check, handing the bartender his card before I could even attempt to protest.

  “That needs to be taken care of.” Mitch pointed down to my arm and I nodded. “I’ll take you home?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not ready to go home yet.”

  He signed his receipt. “Fine, you’re coming home with me and I will take care of you.”

  I was embarrassed. I was drunker than I’d meant to get. Thankfully, Mitch seemed like a decent guy.

  He helped me off of my barstool and just the simple brush of our hands sent a desire coursing through my body in an instant.

  That’s when I realized how freaking tall he was. I wanted to taste his lips but they felt miles away. I reached up and grabbed the back of his neck, yanking those gloriously plump lips to mine.

  Fireworks.

  Dazzling fireworks.

  They erupted in my gut as our lips crushed together in the middle of the bar. Mitch’s arms wrapped around my middle and pulled me into his muscular body.

  “Holy hell, girl, you’re amazing.” His lips brushed over mine as he whispered into me.

  We made out like drunken, horny teenagers all the way to his apartment building, in the elevator, and down the hall.

  Mitch slammed me into his door, never parting his lips from mine as he fumbled for his keys in his pocket.

  The door flew open behind me and I went flying into a bare apartment straight into boxes—falling, crashing, screaming, embarrassed.

  “Holy fuck are you ok?” Mitch grabbed me, pulling me into his strong arms as he laughed a little. “Well, I guess I need new dishes.”

  I gripped his shoulders as he kissed my neck, pressing me against his newly painted wall. “Sorry?”

  “Don’t be. I hated those pieces of shit anyway.”

  Mitch unclasped my bra, letting me shimmy out of it and throw it across the room. Then he put his hand in the middle of my chest, pressing me against the wall before dropping to his knees as he yanked my skirt up and pulled my pink thong down around my ankles.

  His hot breath danced over my soaking clit as my knees started to quake. With his free hand, Mitch traced circles over my inner thigh as he gently let his tongue glide over my swelling bud. I cried out from the simplest caress.

  “Just wait, babe. You ain’t felt nothing yet.” Mitch’s words were barely audible as his flattened tongue spread my folds.

  I held on tight, panting and moaning uncontrollably with my eyes slammed shut.

  “God, you taste so good.” He breathed right before forcefully shoving his fingers into my wetness and in an instant I was done. My orgasm built up and crashed around me within seconds and I was a puddle on the floor.

  Mitch scooped me up into his arms, kissing me sweetly. “I told you, love, there’s still more to come.”

  “Holy fuck.” Classy. It was all I could think to say as I locked eyes with this stranger who had just given me one of the most intoxicating orgasms of my life within minutes of being alone together.


  He laid me down on what felt like a cloud, yanked off his clothes in a drunken rapid fire, and turned me over onto my stomach.

  “What do you want?” He growled into my ear as he gripped my hip bones, letting his pulsing manhood rest on my ass.

  “I want to feel your dick inside me.”

  He moaned, shoving off of me. I started to roll over to look up at him. “Stay. It’ll only take a second.”

  I did as instructed while I heard a drawer slam shut and the foil of a condom wrapper being ripped open.

  His thick head rested on my sensitive opening as Mitch’s fingers dug into the tops of my thighs, pulling me into him. I cried out as he filled me, shoving as far in as he could.

  “Like that, babe?”

  I gripped the comforter, gritting my teeth as I moaned. “Oh, God, Mitch.”

  He thrust into me, working my sweet spot perfectly.

  “Come for me again, Candi.”

  His words shot through me and my body tensed and pulsed as he shuddered inside me, riding out our orgasms together.

  Panting, he collapsed on the bed next to me, tying off the condom and throwing it onto the floor. “I’ll deal with that tomorrow.” He pulled me into his big, tattooed arms, checking my forearm. “How’s it feeling?”

  I shrugged. “It could use some ice and lotion.”

  “Coming right up.”

  It was sweet, having someone take care of me, even in the simplest of ways. Mitch rolled an ice cube over my puffy forearm. “Better?”

  I nodded. “Much.”

  He kissed my shoulder, patted the tattoo dry, and applied lotion to it ever so gently. “Good. Now come here.”

  Mitch curled his body around mine, making sure I was under the covers and comfortable before we drifted off to sleep.

  It was one of the best night’s sleep I had ever had…probably too good.

  Mitch

  “Holy fuck!” Candi shot up out of bed, startling me awake.

  “You ok?” I rolled over to see her hopping on one foot, trying to get her skirt on as her eyes darted around the room.

  “Where in God’s name is my fucking bra?”

  “On top of one of the crushed boxes.” I grabbed my boxers and got up to help calm Candi’s freakout as she scrambled to get the fuck out of my apartment. “Did I do something?”