Read Online Tattooed Moon by Tiana Laveen - Free Book Online

heart raced as if he were expecting a blind date, and it felt rather foolish to behave in such a way. Regardless, he had little to no control over it. He had thought about Milan quite a bit the previous evening. He wondered if she enjoyed her job and what she did for a living. He had a myriad of nosy questions about her likes and dislikes, from songs to cuisine, to a wish for full discovery of how open her mind truly was. That was an ongoing issue Julian had had in his dating life. Here he was, almost thirty years old, and he’d had a hell of a time finding a woman to meet the criteria for his relationship checklist. He didn’t enjoy dating; he preferred a committed venture. What he desired was too personal to simply be putting around. Besides, he enjoyed setting up roots. Nevertheless, he was certain that the problem was not the women, but him.
    He was particular; others would simply say persnickety, maybe too fussy. He wanted a woman that was, in some ways, his polar opposite. Many would see that as an odd goal. To him, it was ideal. In other ways, he needed this dream woman to be open, like a blossoming flower, available to receive original philosophies and experiences, and to give them, too. He’d had it up to here with women giving him the wonky eye when he offered them a bag of fragrant herbs instead of a lit joint. He’d even been told his lovemaking style was a study within itself, the source of questions and surveys for his lover to pose after she lay there exhausted, her naked body beyond satisfied but her brain unequivocally confused. He did things… said things…made the women he’d taken home feel a way they’d never experienced before according to their utterances. To him, it was natural, normal. Nothing to marvel at…
    Things he treasured doing, he wanted to take his time…do it right.
    He knew he wasn’t like other men. He’d known he was different from the average Joe at a rather young age. For one, he was into art and math, versus sports, like his peers. Drawing and mathematics was a rather odd combination to excel at, one being right brain dominated, the other left—but it was who he was. He always preferred pen and paper for anything, and since he believed all art was a series of geometric shapes, it seemed easy for him to incorporate one into the other. Accuracy was important; it dealt with measurements and attention to detail. He thought girls would be the same—easy formulas to crack with the right attention to detail once he began to actively date at the age of thirteen. He soon found out, not everyone with plush, pink lips and a name that ended in an ‘A’ came with such easy instructions. Matter of fact, there were no formulas, periodic charts or flow diagrams that could assist him. He had to find his own way into understanding a woman, and he took it case by case. He was intrigued by the way they moved, spoke, smelled and carried themselves. They became his muse, so it was no surprise that at one pivotal point in his life, his best friend was indeed a woman. And then, there was his other roadblock…
    Julian still had an issue controlling his lack of a filter. He was born with a strong blunt gene, but had learned to tone it down over time. Still, every now and again, it bit him in the ass. If a woman would ask him if her dress made her look fat, he’d answer, “Yes,” if it did. If he was asked if he liked a new hairstyle, he might say, “It’s okay; it looked better the other way.”
    Needless to say, he rarely heard from these women again. He had been a bit younger back then, in his teens, didn’t have the handle on the whole dating thing quite yet. Now, he had accumulated plenty of feminine consideration, as well as a shitload of ex-girlfriends, many of which were physically exquisite. He did have a ‘thing’ for physical beauty, especially if the woman exuded sexiness—but he needed more than that. After a while, many of his ex-loves bored him and the relationship would