Tig and Asma: Shenanigans
A/ N: Just because I woke up with these two in mind. Please, don't crucify me okay? It played differently in my mind but oh well XD I'm rusty. All usual disclaimers
Xxx
Hazel eyes stared at the baby blue eyes of the old biker. He could read her concern quite easily. He knew she was upset by the stare she was giving him, worried about what he didn't tell her. They agreed to it, to him not talking about his line of work, not giving details about his job because she would never be able to handle it. She said so, not him. The tattoo artist was far from being stupid, she knew very well what he was doing, the blood from his clothes when he came back from a « car fixing » was all she needed to see to understand what was going on and yet, it angered her. It felt like a weight in her stomach, the anxiety of it all, the fear of losing him because he went to another dangerous job and didn't make it. The fear of losing him because he refused to do something else. They talked about it, he would never turn his back on the club. He would never stop being a mechanic and she agreed to it.
Hazel eyes stared at the baby blue eyes of the old biker, scanning every bit of his skin for a wound. He wasn't injured. It wasn't his blood. She watched him as he washed his hands clean, her toned and thick legs crossed over the wooden table she was sitting at as she observed Tig from behind. He was upset. Nervous actually. The job they were working paid a lot, sure, but they didn't have much room to manœuvre. He held the sink with his hands, his back arched, his eyes cold and focused on his pasty white fingers. She was upset and he felt it as soon as he came home. She barely spoke to him, just looked at his hands, furrowed her brows, and sat on the table. He hated it when she didn't speak. It had him guess, it had him think, it had him panic a little bit inside because he didn't know what she was thinking. Could this work? Them together? She said she was in love with him before he left....and now she was acting completely differently.
« Say something. »
He finally managed to say, turning around to lean against the sink and look at her. She looked like a present, her silky bathrobe hugged her curves, and gave him an appetizer for what was to come. Her pink locks fell onto her back, curled like candies wrap and suddenly, his hand wanted to get lost in her lost, hold a fist of it, hold her gracile neck, and make her speak. She lifted a brow and crossed her arms over her chest. She didn't want to talk to him, not when he came back looking all shady and she didn't know if she had to worry or not. Tig furrowed his brows and left the sink. He grabbed a chair and sat in front of her. Her feet were just inches from his lap, which made her lift a brow.
« I don't even understand why you're sulking, Bella. I've just come home. »
« With someone else's blood on your hands. » She noted, unfolding her arms and tapping her fingers on the wooden table. « Should I worry about you? »
« I'm fine. » He growled, his eyes roaming over her smooth legs up to her beautiful face. « You know my line of work. » He pointed out. « Don't pretend you're discovering that shit today. »
« I don't.» She said, taking a deep breath and rolling her head to the side.
« Then what's the fucking problem here? » He asked, furrowing his brows. « Are you having seconds thoughts about us? » She took a deep breath and decided not to answer. Her feet started to walk on his lap, making him draw a breath and intensely look at her. «Asma! » He warned her. She didn't want to talk but he did. « Asma...Talk to me. »
« I don't want to. » She whispered, her little toes pressed against his bulge, making him draw a breath as it sent a jolt of pleasure down his spine. Asma wanted to fuck, she didn't make it very clear when he came home, but now it was crystal clear that she wanted to rile him up and have him fuck her into oblivion. « I don't want to fucking talk to you tonight. »
She growled, her two feet now massaging his bulge while she pretended she wasn't doing anything. A conversation would come later, she would figure out the mess she was at this moment. Truth to be told, she wanted this relationship to work and was upset about her outburst before he left. The whole « I don't like your job » thing was just a cover for her real feelings. She knew it. Tig had not figured it out just yet. Tig's face became somber, his eyes dark and dangerous as he observed her. She was taking way too many liberties, taunting him, acting like a brat without at least giving him a reason as to why she was doing this. She was upset, he understood that and he suspected that it had to do with the latest job he took. He didn't know and it was frustrating Alex. She chuckled to herself, knowing that she was driving the man crazy with her antics. Her heart was beating faster in her ribcage, pounding hard as it was anticipating his next move. He wasn't very patient, and after a while, with her feet playing his pants-clad cock, she felt him twitch against her. Her lips curled into a pout and Asma pushed him away, now certain that he was hard and his attention was focused on her.
She pushed herself back, sliding onto the table and finding herself at the center of it, but he grabbed her ankle and yanked her towards him. She whimpered and laid on her back, her hair spilled around her face like a pink crown and a smirk that was dancing on her lips. She kicked his chest, playfully so, informing Tig that she was not going to surrender easily and would try to escape from him. It made him groan and curse in between his breathe. As a matter of fact, he had felt her absence for way too long, her little games, her attitude, everything was done on purpose to rile him up. That made sense all of a sudden. For a brief second, he released her ankle and she used her arms to push herself up on the table, but he grabbed her ankle again and yanked her leg back, forcing her to resume her previous position.
Her eyes were intensely staring at him, glowing almost with sheer excitement as he spread her legs and pushed her at the corner of the table. The flimsy fabric of the bathrobe opened and exposed her ample chest. Asma chuckled and bit her bottom lip as Tig pressed his bulge against her wet warm panties clad slit. She hissed and shut her eyes tight, pushing his chest away so she could try and sneak out of his embrace but he sunk his nails into her waist and pinned her against the table. He wasn't amused, anymore, and for a brief moment, she felt danger. It covered her skin with goosebumps and made her run her fingers into his black locks. He figured her out and he wasn't there to play anymore.
-TBC-
No comments:
Post a Comment