have no idea what his aversion is to sane women, condoms, or just tossing his own meat. I mean really—”
Her laugh interrupts my rant. “Boy or girl?”
“Little girl, she’s three,” I answer.
“I can’t wait to have babies,” she says with a coo. “You need to get married so you and I can have kids—”
“Eww, no, not happening. They’re little germ spreading, time suckers, who rip apart your vag. Not interested.”
“Ever?” she asks.
“No. Not ever.”
I know where this conversation will lead, hell I visit it at least once a month with my Mom-ster, I mean mother, so I decide to sway the conversation to my second least favorite subject, weddings.
“So, when is the big day?”
****
It’s insanely busy for a Tuesday night at the shop. It’s two others besides me; Marcus and Zack. Today’s schedule was spot on, but we’ve had a few walk-ins, and the boys seem to think they’re fucking supermen. Marcus knows his shit; Zack gets led by his dick. I haven’t seen so many nipple and hood piercings since the owners left Ricco and myself in charge of FS.
Ricco puts up with it, he has no problem staying open past closing. Me, I have little tolerance for the shit. We alternate weeks between opening and closing; this is my week to close. I am just coming off two days with no ‘O’s’ in sight, due to mother nature’s cruel joke to women, and I am a miserable bitch. Hey, at least I can admit it. And, it’s Taco Tuesday at Mario’s, so not cool.
“You pissed?” Marcus asks, setting the consent forms on the counter after checking out one of his regular customers.
“It’s Taco Tuesday, what do you think?”
“I can lock up. You can go get your Taco Tuesday’ed,” he winks.
“For your information, I wasn’t going to hook up. So fuck you,” I say grabbing his sheet and scanning it into the computer.
I look over and he is thumbing through Ricco’s schedule book. He refuses to use the computer, says someday it will crash and we’ll all be fucked, except him. We just barely convinced him to get a smartphone.
Marcus laughs and looks at me, then back at the book.
“What?” I ask stepping over to hand him the forms. He closes the book quickly and shoves it under the pile of supplier catalogs.
He reaches his long, thin, yet cut, arm, covered in some really cool ink, and pets the back of my head.
“Do I look like a damn dog to you?” I jerk away.
“No, Kat, no you don’t. You look beautiful,” he says basically cooing.
“One of us has to. Now get out of here and finish the bitch’s ass you’re inking.”
Marcus is six-foot-tall, lean muscular build. You know the type of person you hate because they eat everything in sight yet still don’t gain a pound? Yeah , he’s that person. His face is chiseled, prominent cheek bones, square-ish jaw and a nose that I’m sure was perfect, until it was broken a few times due to fights. He’s a tom cat. A ladies’ man. The guy that will jump in the middle of an argument between two drunken lovers, stop it with his fist only to end up with the girl between his sheets. He’s very high strung. I was sure he had too much energy to do this for a living but all that energy seems to turn into creativity.
Zack is a gym rat. Built like a house. He’s not quite six foot, brown hair and the wildest colored eyes, almost violet. Against his tanned skin they pop. He’s a pretty boy and the giggly girls love him. He loves them too.
Then there’s Ricco. Six foot four, dark skin with green eyes. He’s not pretty like Zack or stunning and sharp like Marcus. Ricco is big. A beast of a man really. He is broad, has a nice chest, nipples pierced, six pack abs, but not cut. Just… big.
His laid back attitude is what seems to appeal to the broads that walk in here seeking him. He doesn’t smile a lot but he smirks. He has the devil in his eyes all the time.
When I first met him I wanted to gouge his eyes out. The way he would sit back so chill and
Her laugh interrupts my rant. “Boy or girl?”
“Little girl, she’s three,” I answer.
“I can’t wait to have babies,” she says with a coo. “You need to get married so you and I can have kids—”
“Eww, no, not happening. They’re little germ spreading, time suckers, who rip apart your vag. Not interested.”
“Ever?” she asks.
“No. Not ever.”
I know where this conversation will lead, hell I visit it at least once a month with my Mom-ster, I mean mother, so I decide to sway the conversation to my second least favorite subject, weddings.
“So, when is the big day?”
****
It’s insanely busy for a Tuesday night at the shop. It’s two others besides me; Marcus and Zack. Today’s schedule was spot on, but we’ve had a few walk-ins, and the boys seem to think they’re fucking supermen. Marcus knows his shit; Zack gets led by his dick. I haven’t seen so many nipple and hood piercings since the owners left Ricco and myself in charge of FS.
Ricco puts up with it, he has no problem staying open past closing. Me, I have little tolerance for the shit. We alternate weeks between opening and closing; this is my week to close. I am just coming off two days with no ‘O’s’ in sight, due to mother nature’s cruel joke to women, and I am a miserable bitch. Hey, at least I can admit it. And, it’s Taco Tuesday at Mario’s, so not cool.
“You pissed?” Marcus asks, setting the consent forms on the counter after checking out one of his regular customers.
“It’s Taco Tuesday, what do you think?”
“I can lock up. You can go get your Taco Tuesday’ed,” he winks.
“For your information, I wasn’t going to hook up. So fuck you,” I say grabbing his sheet and scanning it into the computer.
I look over and he is thumbing through Ricco’s schedule book. He refuses to use the computer, says someday it will crash and we’ll all be fucked, except him. We just barely convinced him to get a smartphone.
Marcus laughs and looks at me, then back at the book.
“What?” I ask stepping over to hand him the forms. He closes the book quickly and shoves it under the pile of supplier catalogs.
He reaches his long, thin, yet cut, arm, covered in some really cool ink, and pets the back of my head.
“Do I look like a damn dog to you?” I jerk away.
“No, Kat, no you don’t. You look beautiful,” he says basically cooing.
“One of us has to. Now get out of here and finish the bitch’s ass you’re inking.”
Marcus is six-foot-tall, lean muscular build. You know the type of person you hate because they eat everything in sight yet still don’t gain a pound? Yeah , he’s that person. His face is chiseled, prominent cheek bones, square-ish jaw and a nose that I’m sure was perfect, until it was broken a few times due to fights. He’s a tom cat. A ladies’ man. The guy that will jump in the middle of an argument between two drunken lovers, stop it with his fist only to end up with the girl between his sheets. He’s very high strung. I was sure he had too much energy to do this for a living but all that energy seems to turn into creativity.
Zack is a gym rat. Built like a house. He’s not quite six foot, brown hair and the wildest colored eyes, almost violet. Against his tanned skin they pop. He’s a pretty boy and the giggly girls love him. He loves them too.
Then there’s Ricco. Six foot four, dark skin with green eyes. He’s not pretty like Zack or stunning and sharp like Marcus. Ricco is big. A beast of a man really. He is broad, has a nice chest, nipples pierced, six pack abs, but not cut. Just… big.
His laid back attitude is what seems to appeal to the broads that walk in here seeking him. He doesn’t smile a lot but he smirks. He has the devil in his eyes all the time.
When I first met him I wanted to gouge his eyes out. The way he would sit back so chill and
Similar Books
