Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
There are no rules about dating customers. I know that from the number of stories I’ve overheard about the shenanigans that happened in this place before I started. I’m a free agent, and I can do what the hell I want.
Daimon is sexy and interested in me, and I’m all about living in the moment these days. If I’ve learned anything from my experience with the Ink Factor men, it’s that there is a whole world out there of experiences just waiting for me.
Fuck Carl and his moodiness. Fuck him if he’s jealous too. He’s made it clear where I stand, and that’s out in the cold.
But not for long. “I’d love that,” I say with a wide flirtatious grin.
“Tonight?”
Damn, he’s keen.
“Tonight would be perfect. I’ve got nothing else planned.”
The last part is for Carl’s benefit, and it seems to work. For a moment, his ethereal blue eyes flick between Daimon and me, filled with what looks like panic. He doesn’t want me to go on a date with another man, but if that’s how he feels, he’s gone the wrong way about expressing it.
I’m not a toy. He doesn’t get to discard me and then get jealous when another man wants to play with me.
“I’ll meet you outside the club,” Daimon says. “Eight pm sharp.”
Footsteps and laughter behind me drag my attention. Dex has finished his client and is ready to see Daimon.
“This is Dex,” I tell Diamon, relieved for a reason for our conversation to end. With Carl looming, it’s far from comfortable.
“Great. I’m ready.” Daimon sips some more coffee and then rests the cup on the table. “I’ll see you later.” As he passes me, his hand trails to touch my fingers fleetingly. The memory of the way he watched me with Kase in the club floods through me, setting my pussy fluttering, but I’m confused. Is it Daimon watching that has me aroused, or the recollection of how it felt to be with Kase?
Everything is tangled and confused; my memories like a string of lights that have been left in a drawer because they’re too knotted to use. It’s pointless to carry forward any feelings about my colleagues. I have to do what they’re expecting and just let all the memories settle into the past. The future is yet to be written. Mr. Right is out there somewhere. The men of Ink Factor have made it clear that they’re not interested in taking that place in my life.
Carl watches Daimon disappear into Dex’s booth and then sets his gaze onto me like a blue flame, hot and cool at the same time.
“I need you to reconcile these,” he says, handing me a pile of papers.
“Sure.”
I hold my breath, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn’t.
When he turns, his huge hands flex into fists as though he’s imagining breaking a skull, and I spend the rest of the afternoon arguing with myself about whether I’m doing the right thing. But isn’t that how I felt when Dex proposed the game, and pretty much every time I picked a new date out of the bowl? Isn’t it the way I always feel?
Will I ever have the inner confidence to feel secure in the decisions I make? I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? I won’t have a good time with the guy, and I can just leave. Is that really what’s making me feel so stressed?
When I’m ready to leave that evening, everyone is still working. They’re open later than usual to try and work through some of the cancellations. I call out my goodbye, and a few voices return the same, drowned out by the constant whirring noises of the tattoo guns.
All the way home, I’m trying to imagine myself having a good time with Daimon. In my mind, the club plays some great music, and the drinks are awesome. The atmosphere is really buzzing, and he seems like a really friendly person.
Even after all that positive thinking, I still send Dawn a message to let her know where I’m going and with whom. I tell her that I’ll confirm when I’m home safe and sound. It’s a routine we have, to alleviate some of the stress of dating new people.
I choose a blue satin camisole and pair it with black faux-leather leggings and some black spiked-heel shoes. It’s an edgy look for a night I’m hoping will take me out of myself just a little. I’ve gotten used to pushing the boundaries, and it’s become kind of addictive.
But even as I line my lips, I wish that it was Kase who was meeting me at the club. I’m wishing it was Dex who’d be waiting to watch me. I imagine all my men waiting to escort me into the venue for a night of fun and dancing. My heart sinks in my chest like a deflated balloon, and my eyes look haunted when I apply my mascara. Even if Daimon turned out to be the best date ever, he’d never match up to the men of Ink Factor.