Under My Skin (Skin Deep) (6 page)

I shot him one more dirty look before crawling into the middle of the backseat, expecting him to follow me in. He didn’t; he got up front with Jacks and Emma and Luke got in on either side of me.

Emma looked at me and grinned, clearly feeling no pain. My head was swimming and I was more than a little…okay, a lot, buzzed, so I just shook my head and grinned back at her before laying my head on her shoulder. I felt her head lean against mine and then it was lights out.

In the morning, I blinked open eyelids that felt like they weighed twenty pounds each and flailed around, trying to turn off the alarm that was rattling my brain with every obnoxious beep. Why the hell had I set the alarm on a Saturday morning anyway?

Oh, shit! Today was the day we were doing the whole dress thing for Emma’s wedding. I groaned as I moved to sit up. First things first, though. I needed the bathroom and some Tylenol, stat!

Strike that—first things first; I wasn’t going anywhere until I managed to get out from between the two solid walls of hot, nude male flesh wrapped around me.

“Mmmfff…quit moving,”
Brandon grumbled.

I pushed against his chest and said, “I have to get up so I have to move. Just let me up and go back to sleep. I have to go meet Emma and the ot
her girls at the dress shop,” I replied softly to him.

Jackson
’s arm tightened around me, pulling me back against his chest and Brandon slid even closer until I was completely pressed between them. Brandon’s head came up and his lips met mine in a brief kiss as I felt Jackson’s lips nuzzle the curve of my neck and shoulder. I wiggled, loving the feel of them wrapped around me.

“How’s your head?”
Jackson asked. I could hear the laughter in his words.

“Ehhh…got a bit of a headache, but I’ll be fine once I get some Tylenol in me. Why?” I asked him.

He shrugged, but Brandon is the one who answered. “You definitely knocked back some drinks last night, babe. So, did you have fun dancing on the bar?”

Eek. “Ummm…yes?” I squeaked out and then laughed as he growled and dug his fingers into my sides, tickling me.

I couldn’t get away because Jackson was still holding me tight against him. “Okay! I give up! I’m sorry…No! I didn’t have fun dancing on the bar! Stop!” I yelled, still laughing.

Brandon
let his hands drop and he kissed me one more time. I turned toward Jackson when he started speaking so I could look at him.

“You were driving us crazy up there…and all those guys were crowding around staring. I thought Brandon was going to murder one of the dumb bastards because he kept saying how hot you were and that he was gonna try to ‘tap ‘dat ass’ once you came down. God, you’re so fuckin’ sexy, sweetheart…I wanted nothing more than to rip you down and bury my dick in you as deep as I could.” The last words came out on a growl.

My mouth went dry at his words, and desire curled heavily in the pit of my stomach as Brandon chimed in, “We got plans for you tonight, babe. A little bit of punishment that you like so much.”

Chapter 6

“Oh, come on, Allie. Don’t tell me that you have nothing to say. You’re fucking two of the hottest guys in town,
at the same time
, I might add, so you’re gonna tell us exactly what’s been going down. Besides you!”

Leah delivered the last dig with a flourish, grinning and cackling along with Jenna and Emma. Emma’s mom, Jan, even lost it, bending over in half and crossing her legs like she was about to piss herself.

I glowered at her for a minute but couldn’t contain my laughter anymore. Grinning, I crowed, “It’s fucking
awesome
!”

“Oh God,” Leah groaned, “I’m so jealous!” She flopped down on the couch and flung her head back with her arm over her face in a pretty good woe-is-me moment.

Jenna’s face turned serious all of a sudden before she asked, “So, how does it work? I mean, do they
both
like…put it in? At the same time?”

“JENNA!” Jan hollered, her face blood red. “OH MY GOD!”

I stood there in the middle of the bridal store, my jaw on the floor because I seriously could not believe she’d just asked that. We’d only been there for about thirty minutes just looking around, and I know my face was probably even redder than Emma’s mom’s!

I turned my head slightly and noticed that two of the employees and another bridal party were looking pretty interested in the current conversation so I shook my head and sliced my hand across my throat in the universal signal for ‘
Enough
’ and walked away, heading towards another rack of dresses.

I felt someone come up behind me and looked over my shoulder to see Emma, her face contrite.

“Don’t even apologize for her, Em,” I said before she got a chance to say anything. “Seriously, it’s fine and I’m not mad. In fact, I probably would have answered her if it wasn’t for the audience we were drawing!” I smiled at her and she laughed.

“It’s not anything I haven’t wondered about myself, you know. So are we still on for our girl’s night after this?” Emma asked.

“Hell, yes!” I said, nodding vigorously. “I’ve been missing you!”

“I know, I’ve been missing you, too! But sheesh, Brandon and Jackson must be keeping you busy since they’re always there. The house almost feels lonely without you guys all there all the time,” she said.

“Yeah, right. You forget that I know it’s only you and Luke there most of the time now, and you can’t go ten minutes without jumping each other. You’ve probably christened every room of the house by now, except for Brandon’s!” I laughed.

Her face flushed and I gasped. “Ohmigod, Emma. Please tell me you didn’t!”

She shook her head half-heartedly before dropping her head and mumbling, “It wasn’t really in his room…more like up against the door!”

“You dirty little thing, Emma!” I told her, grinning when she looked back up with a grin of her own.

“Let’s go find you a dress, hooker.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward a rack full of gorgeous wedding gowns along the back wall.

We sorted through dresses for a minute, pointing different ones out to each other, and to Jan, Leah, and Jenna who had made their way back to us. I ran my hand down the skirt of one and pulled it out so I could see it better. When I did, I gasped and hollered at Emma.

“Emma! Look at this one!”

She came over, followed by her mom and sisters and watched as I pulled the dress from the rack, holding it in front of me to let them see it. Every single one of them gasped and Emma grabbed it, heading off at almost a dead run for the fitting rooms. We chased after her, arranging ourselves on the chairs and sofas positioned in the center of the area with mirrors all around and  little round platforms to stand on for optimum viewing.

One of the dress consultants came over to Emma’s fitting room door and asked her if she needed help with anything. Emma opened the door slightly and ushered her in to help with the zipper, I’m assuming. I would have helped her, just the same as her family, but I’m guessing she wanted the surprise factor still.

We waited anxiously for her to come out. The bridal consultant stepped out of the room and held the door wide for Emma. She walked out of the room and stepped up on the platform, turning in a slow circle before looking at us and saying, “Well?”

I felt tears well in my eyes. She’d lost a little bit of weight in the past months, but then again, she’d been through hell. But damned if she didn’t look absolutely amazing. I heard sniffling and turned to see that Jan, Leah, and Jenna all had tears in their eyes, as well.

“Emma…” I breathed. “That’s the one. That’s it.”

She nodded and turned in a slow circle again, watching herself in the mirror with an amazed look on her face.  The dress was simply gorgeous, and it fit her like a dream. It was white, high-necked in the front, but it was sleeveless and fitted through the bust and waist, covered with a gorgeous lace pattern. The skirt was solid satin, but there were lace cutouts all around the hem. When she turned, the straps of the dress actually criss-crossed  and met with a lace placket in the center of her back, leaving her shoulders and most of her back bare to the waist. There were three diamond shaped lace cutouts going up the back of the train and skirt, surrounded with a pattern of smaller lace cutouts around each.

It was simple, elegant, and absolutely breathtaking.

Emma faced us again, her face alight, and she nodded, saying, “This one. This is my dress.”

We all squealed and hugged her carefully before she retreated to the dressing room to take it off and have it packaged up into a protective bag. She decided against a veil, not wanting anything to cover up the back of the dress, and we all went back to browsing the racks for bridesmaid dresses.

I was on one side of the store when I heard Jenna holler for Emma. We all met where she was standing, holding a black chiffon bridesmaid dress. We all dug through the rack and grabbed our respective sizes before we headed to the fitting rooms. I was the first one out, standing up on the platform for Emma to look the dress over. Personally, I loved it. It was solid black except for a thin line of hot pink along the top of the dress, strapless, and knee length, very light and flowing. The under-layer of the skirt was hot pink, too, offering a flash of color when we moved.

When the other girls came out and stood beside me, Emma clapped her hands and shrieked. “Yay! Those are perfect and they’re gonna match the shoes perfectly!”

An hour later, we had even found Hayden’s flower girl dress (Jenna had left her at home rather than having to chase her around the store) and were all piled into Brandon’s SUV, which he had let me borrow for the day so we didn’t all have to drive separately. We headed to Beck’s for some lunch and were sitting there chatting when Jenna’s phone rang.

“Hello?” she said as she answered. “WHAT?” she shouted, ignoring us as we all stared.

“Son of a motherless goat, Noah. How the hell did she get ahold of the clippers in the first place?” she paused, listening for a minute. “Seriously? You didn’t know better than to unplug them and put them away after you cut Jarrod’s hair? ”

Every single one of us gasped at her words, each of us picturing her four year old daughter, Hayden, with a bald patch where she’d most likely shaved her own head.

“I’ll be home in a minute. How much of it is gone?” she asked, warily. Another pause  before she sighed heavily and dropped her head to the table, banging it gently against it a few times. She was muttering, “Why me? Seriously, why?” as she did it.

She finally raised her head, registering the silence around the table. She mumbled into the phone again, “I’m on my way,” before ending the call and standing, asking if I could take her home.

I nodded and we all paid our checks, piling into Brandon’s SUV again before I couldn’t take it anymore. “Jenna? Did Hayden shave her head or what?” I asked.

She was silent for a moment and then her shoulders started shaking. I was scared to death that she was losing it and breaking down on us but I realized she was laughing. Amid chuckles she gasped out, “The CAT! She shaved the fucking CAT!”

We all busted out laughing, but didn’t say a word when Jenna’s eyes started looking suspiciously damp. We pulled up outside Skin Deep where everyone had met since Emma had gone in with Luke this morning to do a little bit of ordering. Jenna got in her car and sped off after promising to send us all pictures of the poor cat.

Emma’s mom, Jan, gave us all hugs and left, also, saying she needed to go home because they were meeting friends for dinner.

Emma, Leah, and I decided to go inside and see what the guys were up to. I knew Brandon was working, but I hadn’t heard from Jacks, so I assume he was at his house working on it. When we walked in, the lobby was empty except for Luke, Brandon, and some frizzy headed bimbo that was bouncing around and screaming like a banshee. And if she didn’t watch the bouncing, we’d be seeing (unfortunately) a lot more of her than we’d ever want to!

“I said, you stupid ass bastard, that you
ARE
going to
FIX MY TATTOO
! I’m
NOT
leaving until you do!” Frizzy was yelling.

Luke shook his head silently, standing beside
Brandon calmly with his arms crossed. Brandon was leaning against the counter nonchalantly, looking every bit as delicious as an ice cream cone. No, seriously. I want to lick every inch of him. Mmmm.

“Look, ma’am,” Luke began. “I don’t know how many times I can tell you, but we are not touching you. Ever. Have a nice day.”

He sounded so calm, but his eyes were flashing. Brandon was looking pretty amused, but I could feel Emma tensing beside me. So, me being me, I started letting my flip-flops slap my feet loudly with every step I took closer to the counter.

“Hey, guys!” I said brightly. “What’s going on?”

Brandon flashed a grin at me and Luke barely glanced my way, instead, reaching out for Emma as she drew closer to him. He was so sweet that way, always touching her whenever he could.

Then Frizzy spoke up. “I’ll tell you what’s going on here! These
ASSHOLES
are refusing to fix the tattoo they messed up on!” With that, she pulled her already dangerously low riding shirt down even more and flashed me pretty much her whole damned titty.

I squinted, trying to make out what she was pointing at. “What the hell is that?” I asked, not trying to be funny. I seriously couldn’t tell what it was supposed to be.

“That,” she said snidely, “was supposed to be a unicorn with my initials under it.”

I walked closer, peering more intently at the squiggled mess of lines on her saggy, over inflated flesh. If you squinted just right, maybe crossed your eyes a little, you could almost make out the unicorn. If you didn’t it actually vaguely resembled a wavy, three-eared dog with shaggy hair. And the initials? Well, Karma is a bitch, and she is definitely letting herself be known on this one.

“Does that say
ASS
?” I asked her incredulously. “Your initials are A-S-S?” I snorted unintentionally, trying to smother my laughter.

She huffed and drew herself up (making me back up quickly as her nipple almost poked my eye out), before shrieking, “NO THEY AREN’T! My initials are S-A-S! For Sasha Ann Stanley!”

I snorted again, earning another glare, before asking, “So why does it say A-S-S? Were you drunk when you got it? Or better yet, was the tattoo guy drunk?” I laughed as I asked, not able to help it anymore. Luke cleared his throat behind me and I looked over to see Emma giving me a knowing look. And then it hit me like a lightning bolt out of left field.

“Oh, SHIT!” I yelled. “You’re that chick that Luke busted fuckin’ old dude in
Brandon’s chair! Aren’t you!?”

Frizzy didn’t like that much. My bad. Or not…

“R-E-S-P-E-T, you little bitch. You know what that spells?” she screeched. “That spells respect, and as someone who has been given a bad tattoo by this shop, I not only deserve respect, but I DEMAND IT! Now tell that smug bastard behind the counter to FIX THIS SHIT!” She stomped her foot for good measure.

I saw
Brandon draw himself up straight behind the counter and heard Emma gasp. Luke dropped his arms down to his sides, but I knew he was tense and ready to grab someone if something went down.

Unable to resist the opening she’d left, I leaned on the counter, forcing myself to look bored, even though I was dying to drop on the ground and laugh my ass off. “Actually, Aretha,” I drawled, “that spells respet. Which, by the way, is not a word. At least not in the English language, anyway.” Going for broke, I lifted a hand and pretended to inspect my nails. “So, next time you want to go spelling things and demanding things, you might want to check yourself. As for the tattoo, well, honey you’re shit outta luck. We all know who you are, and we know how you got that…that…whatever the hell it is on your chest, and no one in this shop is gonna touch you with a twenty foot pole. Mmm ‘kay?”

She narrowed her eyes at me and I straightened away from the counter just in case. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, bitch, and you for damn sure don’t know who I am!” she all but growled at me, cocking her head back and forth like a chicken.

I stepped forward again, smiling when she stepped back away from me, even though she had a couple inches and about 50 pounds on me. “I know exactly who you are. You’re the hoe who let a drunk and high dumbass fuck her in exchange for free ink. Bad ink, I might add, because you let said dumbass stick his dick in you while he was doing it. So, because you were bouncing on his balls, it’s your own fault that you have an unfinished, awful looking mess on your titty. So, do you want to leave it at that and get the hell out now? Or would you rather discuss the broken equipment that
Brandon never got paid for?”