Hidden Depths Read online

  Hidden Depths

  By Aubrianna Hunter

  Edited, Produced, and Published by Writer’s Edge Publishing 2012

  All rights reserved.

  © 2012 by Aubrianna Hunter.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  All characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Introduction

  He looked down at her, taking a moment to admire the view before him. Long black hair fanned out around her head. The red satin blindfold standing in stark contrast to her pale skin, only to be offset by the matching red of her lips. Her mouth was slightly agape, waiting for his next kiss, his next touch.

  Her hands and feet were bound with black fur cuffs, keeping her trapped in the spread-eagle position, open to his view, ready to answer his every desire. Or so he could answer hers. He ran a gentle caress up her side, keeping his touch feather-light. He saw the goose bumps rise all across her body, her nipples tightening once again into little pebbles, their color as red and rosy as her lips.

  She wasn't too skinny. Instead her lush body was curved in all the right places, offering softness to his hard planes. Supple, giving, her body drove him to madness. He looked lower, seeing the moisture pooling between her thighs, a clear signal that she was more than ready to receive him. He smiled, teasing her again with a little brush here, a touch there. He had kept her on the brink of orgasm for hours, teasing her, bringing her right to the edge, then stopping.

  As he climbed up onto the bed, it shifted below her, causing her to gasp and wiggle her hips in anticipation. But this was his show, he was in control.

  "Be patient, love. I'm not quite done with you yet."

  A little whimper escaped her lips, bringing another smile to his.

  He leaned forward, placing a kiss on her belly, and another a little lower, stopping to dip his tongue into her belly button. When she moaned softly, he bit down gently on her stomach, reaching his hand up to gently squeeze her breast. He moved further down, blowing on her mound, causing her hips to lift off the bed, seeking his tongue.

  Wanting to startle her, and feeling his own needs beginning to get the better of him, he pulled his mouth back, roughly thrusting one finger into her core. She cried out, trying to twist her hips, bring him deeper.

  "Please," she begged.

  "Please what?"

  "Please... let me come... I need to come."

  "I know you do... and you will. Soon."

  She groaned, twisting and writhing against the sheets. Watching her, his shaft pulsed, releasing another drop from the already wet tip. He wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer. He thrust his finger deeper, again and again, feeling her wet heat contract around his hand.

  Finally unable to withstand it anymore, he sat down onto his knees, lifting her hips and lining his cock up with her dripping entrance. He had wanted to spank her, to see her ass red from his hand. He'd wanted to taste her again.... now it was too late. He had to take her, hard and fast.

  He brushed the tip of his throbbing shaft against her wet slit, sliding up and down, brushing past her clit as she twisted against him. With one hard thrust he pushed inside her, burying himself to the hilt.

  At the feel of her wet heat surrounding him he gritted his teeth, struggling not to come immediately. He raised one hand, pinching her nipple between his fingertips. She cried out, her sheath pulsing around him. As he felt her body tightening, on the precipice of the release he'd thus far denied her, he couldn't stop from thrusting into her. Again and again... harder, faster.

  The need to fuck her until she screamed overtook him and he gripped her hips, lifting them so he could drive into her with all his strength. When he felt her start to milk his shaft, her head thrown back as a scream tore from her throat, he couldn't stop his own release. He thrust once, then twice more, his seed shooting from him in hot bursts as he threw his head back and roared out his pleasure.

  * * * *

  His eyes tore open, his hips still grinding against his cotton pajama bottoms as hot jets streamed from his body, release bringing enough pleasure to have him gritting his teeth.

  As his breathing began to steady out he realized that his dreams were getting more and more real, this time pushing him all the way over the edge. Usually he just woke up hard as stone, but this time he had actually come, simply from a dream.

  He rubbed his hand across his face, shoving it through his hair as he took another deep, steadying breath. He looked over at the sleeping woman next to him. He saw her silky blonde hair, her soft pink lips with her mouth open slightly in sleep. He wondered how she'd slept through all his noise, then just decided to be grateful she had. He gently slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the bathroom to clean up.

  As he washed his face, he looked in the mirror silently willing himself to forget those fantasies. They could never be a reality. That just wasn't in the cards for him.

  It was only as he turned to head back to bed that he realized the woman in the dream had raven black hair, not blonde.

  "Ah, fuck me," he mumbled under his breath before sneaking back into bed beside his fiancée.

  Chapter 1

  Joshua Taylor walked out of the coffee shop on the corner, hot steaming cup of black coffee all but burning his hand. He felt the sting, realized he should have gotten one of those silly sleeves, then shrugged it off and kept walking. The little bite of pain helped him feel something, and right now he needed the reminder that he was alive, a person with choices, like burning his hands, and not merely some puppet on a string. Most days he appreciated his life, realized how truly blessed he was. He had a good family, a good job, financial freedom, a beautiful home and the love of an amazing woman. Nobody could possibly ask for more than that.

  Whenever he started to feel the walls closing in on him, he would run down the list of things in his life he had to be grateful for. Usually, that was enough to pull him out of his funk. If that didn't work, he would pull out his dream car and take her for a spin. The rumble of the engine and the feel of the tires hugging the road as he drove too fast down the twisting highway were usually more than enough to shake off the blues. Today not even his 1968 Shelby GT500 had helped. He was still feeling... itchy. Like his skin was too tight.

  So he walked, letting the coffee burn his hand and his throat as he sipped it, trying to figure out what to do next. When he saw the neon sign, he had his answer.

  He walked up to the little tattoo
parlor, Forever Ink, stopping to look through the window a moment before heading in. She was there. He could see her in the back corner, her black hair woven with pink stripes in a long braid down her back. She wiped at some guy’s shoulder, turning her head to pull more ink before facing back to her work. He knew that even if he walked in there she wouldn't look up, not right away. She was too focused on what she was doing. But he wanted to take another minute here, just to look his fill before he headed inside. She turned again and he could see little wisps of hair had escaped the braid to curl around her cheeks. She pursed her lips, blowing out the side of her mouth trying to get that hair off her face. He smiled as he finished his coffee, tossing it in the trash before he opened the door.

  When she heard the bell she called out, "Be with you in a sec."

  Just as he'd expected, she never even lifted her head. Josh sat down in one of the overstuffed Victorian looking chairs in the front of the shop. After a few more minutes she yelled again. "I'm just about done. Take a look at the books up front and get an idea of what you want. Black or color and what type of design."

  Just being in here, in this place with her crazy artistic vibe clearly stamped throughout, Josh felt some of that tightness, that itchy feeling, beginning to ebb. This was just what the doctor ordered.

  It was another ten minutes before he heard the gun stop. She wiped the guy’s shoulder and stood up, bending her neck side to side, stretching her back and shoulders, while the customer took a look in the mirror. The 'guy' was actually not much more than a kid, eighteen or nineteen at best, and clearly stoked with his first tattoo. He was bouncing around flexing his muscles to display the new skull on his shoulder. Josh watched as Gia covered the tat with plastic wrap, giving the kid instructions on how to care for it and keep it clean while it healed.

  As the kid bounced away, she finally turned to face him, her ever present smile fading into a look of shock.

  "Let me guess... you just finished snow skiing in hell and wanted to come and brag about it?" Gia asked by way of a greeting.

  "Nope. The last I checked hell hasn't frozen over. Hi Gia, how are you today?"

  "It must have. If hell hasn't frozen over there's no way you would be standing in my shop. What are you doing here, Josh?"

  "Okay, since the pleasantries are over, I want to get a tattoo."

  At Josh's statement Gia proceeded to laugh outright, her black lipstick framing her stunningly white teeth while she chuckled. He waited, having expected that response.

  After a good long laugh she finally calmed enough to catch her breath. At which point she asked, "No, really, why are you here?"

  "Really... I want a tattoo."

  She smirked at him, the corners of those full lips quirking up at one corner just as the opposite eyebrow shot straight up in question. The familiar urge to kiss her rose, and was just as quickly stamped back down.

  She stared him down, her hazel eyes boring into his. He stared back. He'd never been one to walk away from a challenge. Now that he'd decided to do this, he was not about to let her talk him out of it. After a few moments, her expression changed, no longer daring him, simply full of humor.

  "Fine, pick a design, black only. I'll go get the henna."

  "Not henna, Gia. I want a tattoo, the permanent kind."

  She rolled her eyes at him, followed it with a sigh, then finally said, "Fine. There's another shop about ten blocks down. Tell Frank I said hi."

  "No. I want you to do it."

  "Okay, Josh, what the hell is this about? You have never once come in here, ninety percent of the time we're around each other you don't even speak to me anymore, the other ten percent we're bitching at each other. I would bet my last dollar that you don't have any other tattoos and suddenly you show up here all smiles telling me you want me to ink you. I don't think so. So, what... are you setting me up? Trying to get Deb to kick me out of the wedding? What's the game?"

  "No game Gia. I want a tattoo, plain and simple. And, I happen to know that you're the best. So, I want you to do it." Josh crossed his arms, tilted his head to one side and waited. He wasn't lying or trying to build up her ego. It was plain truth. He had seen some of her work, both back in college and in the last few years that she had been in business here. The few people he knew that had tattoos had been to her. Her work was phenomenal.

  He watched as she thought this through, wishing he could get inside her head, just once, to know what she was thinking. She was right about him avoiding her. They could barely manage to be civil to each other, so he simply stayed out of her way. His mother had forced good manners onto him his entire life. Since he lost all manners when it came to Gia, he simply took the chicken shit way out.

  All of a sudden, he got a terrible thought.

  "You're not going to put something horrible on me, are you? Nothing that says 'I suck cock' or 'I'm a dumbass' right?"

  At that she laughed again. "Actually I hadn't thought of that yet, but it's not a bad idea. Still want me to do this? You really could go see Frank. He's very good. Not as good as me, but good enough."

  "Nope, as long as you promise to stick to the design we pick, I want you." He let that hang there, fully intending the double entendre and wondering if she'd catch it.

  Of course she did.

  "Awww, that's sweet. Too bad I don't want you. But, I'll do your ink. Tell me what you're thinking of and where. I'll draw up a design and we can do the tattoo in a couple of days."

  "Why not now? Tonight?"

  "Afraid you'll change your mind?" she asked, the dare dripping off every word. After a brief pause she continued, "That's actually why I want you to wait. I figure you'll chicken out once you get home and see Deb. I'm not really sure what's got your panties in a twist there, lawyer boy, but I'm pretty sure you don't want a permanent reminder of it."

  How is it that he could hide his moods from even his closest friends and family, yet Gia managed to call him on his bullshit? It wasn't the first time, either. She'd been able to do that since the day he'd met her.

  "I'm not changing my mind Gia. I want it done this evening because I have time this evening. With my schedule, plus wedding plans, I'm not entirely sure when I would be able to get back in here. So, since it doesn't look like you're all that busy, let's draw something up and get it done."

  After another brief stare down, she nodded her head. "Fine. Where were you looking to do this? The shoulder blade area is a decent place to start. Not super painful and easily hidden under a shirt."

  "Nope, left bicep, big enough to cover most of the upper arm."

  A quick raise of her eyebrows and a little smirk then she shook her head. "Damn, you never do anything halfway, do you? One condition... You never tell Deb I did this tattoo. Got it?"

  Josh felt the smile light his face, the last little feeling of tightness easing away. "Deal."

  * * * *

  God, he looked amazing. He always looked good, in his fancy suits and ties, but today he was dressed in an old Stanford T-shirt and faded, worn out jeans. She was pretty sure no one in his family even knew he owned clothes like these. She liked it so much better than the suits. His blue eyes a sharp contrast to the messy dark brown hair. She knew he'd been in his Mustang today, windows and top down, running hell bent for election. She was sure he had no idea how much attention she paid to these little details, and if her luck held, he'd never find out.

  Gia still had no idea why he was here. Something had clearly set him off today for him to even think about crossing the threshold of this building, let alone actually getting inked. She knew that tattoos and piercings were better than therapy for some people, herself included. Maybe this was his first foray into that method of finding mental sanity. She should probably warn him that it could become addictive. Somehow she didn't think Deb was going to like even one tattoo, let alone covering his body with art work.

  She watched as he flipped through a couple of albums, looking at some of her work, finding things he liked. He finally decided to
go with a serpent on his left arm. Huge and done in full color. Shaking her head again, she sat down and started sketching. Wednesday was always one of the slowest days in the shop. She never even had Jasmine come in and man the desk on Tuesdays. She usually used it for scheduled appointments when she would be working on larger tattoos. Somehow, Josh had managed to show up with his odd request when she had the afternoon wide open.

  Making a snap decision, Gia flipped the sign to closed, turned off the neon out front and locked the front door.

  While she was dropping the blinds, she heard Josh asking, "What's up? Why'd you lock up?"

  Unable to resist the urge to tease him, she smirked and asked, "What's the matter Josh, afraid I want to have my wicked way with you?"

  She waited for a response, expecting his face to turn beet red, a shiver of discomfort, some sort of reaction. When he just stared at her, his eyes boring into hers, she finally raised one shoulder in a half shrug, "Just figured this'll take the rest of the day. It's after three now, and I never do much business on Tuesday anyway. This way, we can do this right."

  She sat down next to him, ignoring the little bump in her chest. She grabbed her sketch pad and started to draw out the serpent. She couldn't resist one quick little jab. "A snake tattooed on a lawyer... it's almost too much of a cliché."

  "Okay, smartass."

  "Better than being a dumbass." She looked over just in time to catch the grin he immediately hid behind that annoyingly bland expression he always wore.

  "Okay, since we're stuck together for several hours, why don't you tell me why you're here. What happened that brought about the decision to do this today?" She watched his normally shuttered expression turn pensive, his eyes squinting, little frown lines appearing beside his full lips.

  "Nothing."

  "Uh huh, sure... nothing."

  "Look, if we need to make nice for awhile, let's talk about something else."

  "Sure, so why do you smile when I insult you, then hide it so I don't see it?"