All the Pretty Lies by M. Leighton

face.
    I close my eyes against the mental image and
take another sip of coffee. After a full minute or two, when
there’s nothing but silence in the room, I crack my lids and look
around for Hemi. He’s sitting on the edge of an armchair with his
elbows on his knees, watching me.
    “Good?”
    I nod and take another sip. “How’d you
know?”
    “I’ve had a hangover or two.”
    “This is my first.”
    “Mmm, I’m getting to see all kinds of firsts
for you. Lucky me.”
    A coil of warmth lazily unwinds in the pit of
my stomach. It seems that he’s hinting at other firsts, dark, taboo
firsts. His expression gives away nothing and his eyes are hidden
by his glasses. I don’t need to see them to know that they’re on
me, though. I can feel them. Like a touch. Like a warm finger
against my lips. Nervously, I wet them with the tip of my tongue.
I’m not purposely trying to taunt him, but I don’t think that
matters. I see the muscle in his jaw bunch as he grits his teeth.
And I hear a hissing sound as he sucks in a breath past them.
    I revel in the tension strung between us like
a taut wire. I want to enjoy it, prolong it, not push him away like
he tried to push me away.
    “And lasts,” I say with a casual laugh,
referring to my venture into alcohol consumption.
    “Maybe. Some things you try will be much
more…addictive than drinking, though.”
    My pulse flutters. “And what might those
be?”
    “I’ll let you tell me.”
    The coffee feels tepid compared to the heat
that’s coursing through me. This subtle, intimate way he has of
speaking to me is doing horrible things to my nerve. And delicious
things to the rest of me. But should it? This is the guy
that asked me to leave…
    “What are you doing here? Did you come all
the way out here to bring me coffee?”
    I live about thirty minutes outside
Atlanta.
    With my father and brothers.
    Still.
    But once I graduate, and start making some
money, I’m outta here.
    “I’m here to take you for your first
lesson.”
    “My first lesson?”
    “Yes, lesson. Didn’t you say you wanted to
learn all about the art of tattooing?”
    “Umm, yeah, but didn’t you say you didn’t
teach others?”
    “I did. But with you having so many firsts to
share with me, I felt the need to keep up.”
    “And what makes you think I’ll be sharing any
more firsts with you?”
    Hemi smiles broadly and my insides burst into
flame. “Trust me. You’ll be sharing many more firsts with me.”
    It doesn’t occur to me to argue his point.
Mainly because I don’t want to. I can think of nothing I’d like
better than to share all of my firsts with Hemi. I can think
of no more fascinating person with whom to spread my wings. I won’t
deny that I’m pleased. Very pleased. But I don’t have to admit it
either.
    “Is that so?” I’m purposely nonchalant, even
though I feel anything but nonchalant.
    “That’s so.”
    He’s still smiling. And it’s still doing
wicked things to my guts.
    “And just what does my first lesson
entail?”
    “You. Me. And the Beach.”
    “The beach?”
    “Yes, the beach. So hurry up and drink your
coffee then go squeeze that tasty ass of yours into a bikini so we
can hit the road. We’ve got a long drive ahead.”
    All I hear is tasty ass and long
drive. I get to spend the day with Hemi. And he thinks I have a
tasty ass.
    Best. Hangover. Ever.
     

CHAPTER TEN- Hemi
     
    What the hell was I thinking?
    I decided to take Sloane up on her offer
because the opportunity was too good to pass up. I mean, this might
be the “in” that I need. I just need to be careful. I can’t afford
to let her distract me too much . A little is okay. Everyone
needs a little entertainment. And exploring a virtually untouched
body like hers would definitely be entertaining. But it also
might be too distracting.
    I think the thought of denying myself is
getting to me. I’m used to taking what I want. I’ve always been
that kind of man. There have never really been