Perfect Collision (19 page)

For the same reason, Bear changed his mind when he was was about to ask Vi what they'd been up to and decided to never fucking ask her that, since he really didn't want to know.

He'd been very impressed with Mac's well prepared speech about the two of them 'seeing' each other. It was mostly about how it all was his fault, and if Bear had a problem with it he shouldn't send Vi away, that Mac would leave instead.
Very
puppy love. But he liked the other parts, that Mac had thought a lot about the fact that Vi was younger, he wasn't planning on slamming a tattoo on her anytime soon, and he was in love with her.

The last thing had slipped out, and he'd promised Mac to not tell Vi. The kid wanted to tell her himself when he thought she was ready to hear it. Bear was sure Mac understood how careful he had to be with Vi, and that was the most important part.

She was eighteen. In some ways she seemed older, but in a lot of ways she was a lot younger and a lot more naïve. He knew it was part his fault. He'd been overly protective of her, but didn't know himself if it was because she was his youngest daughter, or because of her other problems. He'd just always felt a need to keep her out of harm's way, whether it was from her mom or life in general.

He watched Vi as she walking into the kitchen in her usual calm matter. She was always like that. Calm.

When they'd gotten the diagnosis of ADD, he'd been sure the docs had gotten it all wrong. He'd met some kids with ADD and they were extreme and all over the fucking place. But they'd explained that ADD and ADHD were similar regarding the attention deficiency, but the latter involved hyperactivity. She didn't have the hyperactivity; she had the opposite.

It had basically turned out that a lot of the traits she had, things he'd seen as uniquely her, could be due to the ADD. Her calmness, shyness, politeness, how she was so obedient—even her creativity.

Some of her bad traits, too, of course. Like the focus problems, how she fucking forgot everything you told her, and her people problems. She understood people, respected their boundaries, but never had any close friendships. That was apparently common.

And then it was the hyper-focus. How she just got lost in things—especially drawing. You could stand next to her and yell, and she didn't notice. When they had a task at school, like writing a short story and drawing a picture for it, she always ended up handing in two sentences of writing and a full paper of drawings, because she forgot what the task was and instead got lost in the drawing.

Art was everything to her, and he'd known that if she just could come up with a way to make a living out of it she'd been fine. All those things others saw as weird quirks would work in her favor, and he'd been right. At Wicked Ink, for the first time, her advantages and disadvantages were working
for
her, rather than against her.

“How's work?” he asked in an attempt to avoid any questions about Mac when she sat down and grabbed the cup. He was okay with Mac, he just didn't want to hear about it.

“It's good,” she said with a smile. “A friend of Sami's wanted this, like, a henna thing. She was okay with me doing it, and Sami's gonna be with me the
entire
time. He says it's a great test of my lines, so I'll do it next week.”

“Nervous?”

“No. Sami'll be there. If he thinks I look too shaky, he'll take over, I know that. If he lets me do it, he thinks I'll make it.”

She was right. Sami was serious about the customers, even if they were his friends, and he was also very careful with Vi's rep. If he let her do something he knew she could pull it off. Sami'd been clear from the get-go he wouldn't cut her any slack just because she was young. Vi knew that, too; that's why she completely trusted his judgement.

“Sounds fun. Hope you've been practicing those lines.”

“Yeah. I've been working a lot with my liner lately.”

He'd bought her different types of tattoo machines for different purposes. He'd had no idea that tattoo artists used different machines for lines and shades, but he bought her whatever she needed. Which included a ridiculous amount of fake skin when she'd explained her goal was to be as comfortable with the machine as she was with a pen. It sounded like a good plan to him.

“So when do I get a portrait done by you?”

“You're gonna have to wait for that one,” she said with a laugh. “For, like,
years!
Realistic and portraits are
really
hard. You have do layers upon layers of shading to build up the tattoo, and get the depth—smallest mistake fucks it up.”

“I know,” he laughed. There wasn't a style or type of tattoo she hadn't explained to him in great detail. “I'm just saying, it would be nice to have something more than a dick-shaped lizard.”

“It's not dick-shaped!”

“No, it's not,” he admitted. “Think realistic and portraits is gonna be what you wanna specialize in?”

“Don't know. I guess I'll figure it out. I'm not in any hurry.”

“No you're not.” His sensible, calm daughter—as always. “Got nothing but time, baby girl.”

She was so young, and she already had over a year of work under her belt; that was something. If she kept this up she'd be an awesome artist before she hit her mid twenties, possibly before she even hit her twenties.

CHAPTER NINE:

The Tits I Paid For

-o0o-

MAC WAS VEGGING OUT
in the clubhouse. It was Friday, and church had gone smoothly, just some plans for upcoming runs, and an update on the finances of the club.

Vi had called and told him the ink she was working on took longer than she'd thought, and that she'd be late but still be done in time for them to catch a late movie.

But when they stood by the bike, she smiled and asked him if they could wait on the movie. He didn't object at all, and it wasn't until they got home he realized it might not be her being horny that made her want to skip the movie. She was standing in the kitchen, pressing a cold, wet towel against her eyes.

“Hey, girl, you okay?”

“Just tired eyes,” she answered and once again soaked the towel under the running cold water. “I did this detailed ink today, a henna inspired tattoo, and I'm not good at taking breaks. Sami showed me different tricks to rest the eyes, but I can't do it when I do that type of tattoo.”

“What tricks?” He pulled her closer, took the towel from her and held it over her eyes for her.

“Kinda blurring the eyes. Or just, blur out, like focusing on something far away even if it's close.” He understood what she meant, but was slightly distracted by her entire appearance and just hummed in response. “If I do big stuff, like a whole area of black, I can do it while inking, but not when there's details, and I keep forgetting to take those short breaks.”

“Sami taught you that?”

“Yeah, he's obsessed with ergonomics.”

He hadn't thought about it before, but her work was hard on the body, and apparently Sami was teaching her to think about those things from the very beginning.

“That's good,” he said and looked at her mouth while adding blindfolding her to the mental list of things he wanted to do with her.

“Yeah, I know, it's just annoying when he hassles me about it.”

“It's good.” He leaned forwards. “Roll with it.” And then he kissed her, still holding the towel over her eyes. Her mouth was extremely fucking distracting.

About an hour later they were both in his bed, and they'd both gotten off. They still had quite a few hours before he had to get her home. She was resting half on top of him wearing only her panties. He knew for a fact the panties were more than a little moist, and he liked to think about it. He decided to give himself another five minutes, then see if he could get her interested in a second round.

“It turned out good,” she mumbled.

“What did?” He opened his eyes to look at her. She was leaning her chin on his chest while looking at the wall she'd finished earlier during the week. “Oh, yeah. It's great.”

It was awesome. Mitch was crazy jealous and wanted her to do a wall at his place as well. Mac hadn't let him ask her yet. She didn't have much free time, and for now he wanted her when she did. Kinda greedy of him, he knew, but he could live with being greedy with what little spare time she currently had. He'd planned on mentioning it to her in a couple of months. Or years.

She turned her head to look at him, rose up, and gave him a slow kiss. It picked up pretty fast, then she straddled him and...

She was such a fucking tease!

Slowly, she rubbed his dick with her crotch, and even through two sets of underwear he could tell how wet she was. She kept moving her hips back and forth, kissing him, circling his tongue with hers. Eventually he sat up, wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, meeting her movements, thrusting against her. Fisting her hair he kissed her, had her suck his tongue. They were both moaning—gasping for air.

Her hand snuck between them and into his boxers to circled his dick. With her pussy rubbing the root of his dick, and her hand giving him a class A hand job, it was escalating fast. He knew the best way to make it last was to get her going as well.

He ran his hand down her back and into her panties, driving it further down until he found her soaking wet opening, then carefully dipping just the tip of two fingers inside of her. He hadn't finger fucked her yet, only played around at the opening, but this time he moved them further. When she gasped he stopped.

“No,” she murmured against his lips. “Don't stop.”

He couldn't get over it. They weren't really having sex, but it was still so fucking good. At the same time it was frustrating. Especially this time, since her insides felt so good. Wet, slick, hot, and so very tight. And no matter how great her hand was around his dick, it wasn't
that
great.

He didn't want to push her, though, and he had to admit that this was going faster than he'd expected when they started. But he still tested the waters a little by moving his fingers further, and she still didn't protest. When they were completely buried inside her, he grabbed her jaws with his free hand and made her look at him.

“Fucking hell, girl, you're driving me insane.”

She was riding his fingers, rubbing her clit against his dick while giving him the most amazing hand job. When she started to pant out louder, she tore her lips from him while franticly moving her hips, and he leaned down to take her nipple in his mouth.

“Mac, don't stop. Right there, oh my god, Mac. Don't stop,” she kept mumbling.

Then he felt it; her insides clenching hard around his fingers and the revealing gush of wet. She groaned, panting barely recognizable words.

He was going to give her time to collect herself, but then her hand was back on his dick. She hissed when he pulled his fingers out of her, but she didn't miss a beat.

She kept going while pushing him to lie on his back. He leaned on his elbows, because he wanted to see her pretty hand working him, but she caught his eyes and scooted down until she straddled his knees and—

He couldn’t fucking believe it. Was she...

The answer was yes, she was, and when she leaned down and licked his tip it took all of his efforts to be able to keep his eyes open. He wanted to see that perfect fucking mouth when it...

“Fuck. Oh, fuck, Katze. That's good, just keep the teeth... oh, shit, babe.”

She looked up at him. “Am I doing this right?”

“Keep stroking with your hand. Ah, yes, like that.” He could barely form words inside his own head, so giving instructions wasn't all that easy. When her other hand went down to scoop up his balls, he was gone. Mac was no longer on the fucking planet. “Babe, ohh, fuck me, babe, that's it. Keep going.”

She didn't stop. It didn't matter that it wasn't the most technically perfect blow job he'd had, because just watching her, her mouth around his dick, and her violet hair resting over his hips—jesus!

“Fuck!” he groaned. “That is so good.”

She looked up while still working him with her hand. “Warn me before...”

“Absolutely.” He barely had time to finish the word before her mouth was back on him, and he wrapped her hair around his hand, just to hold it.

When she once again stroked his balls, he hissed, and he could see her trying to smile around his dick when she pulled them. She was such a fucking little tease, and he loved it. She grabbed more firmly, and he was getting closer while trying to find his voice.

“Babe,” he pulled carefully in her hair. “Get off. Now!” He took her hand to stop her as he came for the second time that day. “Fuck. Oh! Fuck!”

He found a t-shirt and made sure it was his own, but before he was able to clean up she spoke.

“What does it taste like?”

“Cum?” he asked, then shrugged when she nodded. He was close to telling her to have a taste, but remembered her reaction to tasting her own juice and decided it was a stupid idea. Instead he answered. “Kinda salty.”

“You've actually tasted?” she laughed.

“Hey, you're the one who told me to taste the dish I'm serving.”

She looked at the cum on his stomach and dipped her finger in it before quickly putting it in her mouth. “Not just salty. Something else too.” She bit her lower lip. “Was it okay?”

He chuckled as he dried off his belly. After throwing the t-shirt back on the floor he reeled her in and gave her a kiss.

“It wasn’t just okay, babe. It was fucking awesome.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.”

It was an hour before he had to take her home, so he pulled the cover over them and held her closer. Then he fell asleep.

-o0o-

I knew he was sleeping; his breathing was really heavy. It felt nice to lie close to him.

He'd said it was awesome. I kinda doubted that, I had no idea what I was doing, but I'd liked it. I especially liked making him sound like that, and making him come. When I stroked his nose with my thumb he smiled in his sleep, but didn't wake up.