and panting. Finally, he pushes off the bed, digs in his pocket, and peels his pants and boxers off in one smooth move. For a moment I study the beauty of him, then I tear open the condom he tossed on the bed and reach for him. The planes of his face constrict at my touch, but he lets me roll the rubber on. Then he’s kneeling over me and I’m breathing hard in anticipation.
His hands cup my jaw. He leans forward and sucks my lower lip, runs his tongue over my lip ring. “Tell me you want me again.”
My fingers slide across his tattooed chest and find solid muscle. “I want you.”
He gently widens my legs and in one smooth move, he’s inside and on top of me with all his glorious weight. “You’ve got me.”
I can’t verbally respond, only moan.
Teeth clenched, he moves and my entire world becomes him above me. His body, his tattoos, and those deep green eyes that won’t let me look away. There is kissing and touching and straining and sighs, but mostly there’s a connection between us I never imagined possible. Past the lust, past the eruption of my climax, then his, is the feeling with each thrust that he’s touching my heart from the inside.
Afterward we lay in a tangle of sheets, each tracing the other’s tattoos. He’s lying on his side. I’m on my back. Thoughts and questions run through my mind. I trace the Japanese letters along his tight abdominal muscles. “What does this say?”
He glances down as if he’d forgotten he’d been inked there, then murmurs, “Just always be waiting for me.”
“Just always be waiting for me,” I repeat slowly, staring at the sharp black letters. Maybe Justin wasn’t always on the one-night-stand merry-go-round. Maybe he deals with heartbreak in reverse from the way I do. Instead of staying away from the opposite sex, he overindulges.
His fingers absently stroke my shoulder. “It’s from
“
“My nanny used to read it to me,” he adds and his gaze turns wistful. “I used to say the line to her every night after she tucked me in.”
“What did she say back?”
“Forever.”
I wistfully imagine him as a little boy. “She sounds wonderful.”
“She was, still is. But what about you? There’s this one,” he says as his fingers follow an olive branch etched on my arm. “That’s the big one.” He traces the cursive
He pulls at the sheet. Not wanting my entire body open for his perusal even in the shadowy confines of my room, I drag my leg out from under the sheet and show him my thigh. He leans close and reads the words along the top aloud: “
“Van Gogh. Last letter to his brother before he died.”
“You and that ear slicer. I’m almost jealous,” he says teasingly. His fingers follow the curl of ink. “Any others?”
I twist around and show him my lower back.
He traces a wing. “Dragonfly Ink, huh?”
“It was my first.”
“Should I ask who did it?”
“Probably not.”
It’s hard to miss the sudden way his eyes narrow. “What other ones did he do?”
“The one on my thigh.” I roll over to my back again, not wanting to talk about the name on my shoulder that was removed. “Todd’s done all the others. But you’re here in my bed, and I don’t want to even think about
He glances at my body covered with the sheet. “That’s it?”
I lift my leg and show him the tiny dragonfly on my ankle.
“So that’s it?”
“Yup. That’s it.”
Wrapping an arm around my sheet-covered waist, he grins slyly. “Would have thought there’d be more ink on such a badass tattooist.”
I shrug. “Between raising a kid, going to school, and inking everyone else, the ideas I have for me keep getting pushed to the side. But once I get my degree, I’ll have more time.”
“You’re keeping the shop?” he asks in a surprised tone.
“Is there something wrong with that?”
“No,” he says, shaking his dark blond head. “I’m just confused why you’re going to college at all.”
“The shop does decent, but if things ever change, I want something to fall back on. And learning about business can only help.”
His nod is thoughtful. “What about your painting?”
“I used to consider painting and tattooing separately, but really they’re both creating. And having someone hang something on their wall isn’t as thrilling as them letting you mark their skin for life.”
“You said something like that before. Your paintings are awesome though.”
“Well, I can always do both. I’m kind of planning on it. What about you?”
His eyebrows raise and I lift a finger to brush the gleaming metal of his piercing.
“Why a communication degree?”
“Thought it would be easy, and useful for law school.”
After closing my mouth and blinking at him, I ask, “You’re going to be a lawyer?”
“Is that hard to believe?”
Thinking of his BMW and his clothes, no. But then there’s him onstage. Hot. Sexy. Magnetic. “I hope you’ll still sing and play guitar in the courtroom.”
“The whole band thing happened because Romeo and I are roommates. I never considered being in a band before I met him. He was starting one, heard me sing, and the rest is history. But in my family, you’re a doctor or a lawyer. No way in hell would I ever be a doctor. So law school here I come.”
“But do you want to be a lawyer?”
He shrugs. “I’m not the driven type. I’m more the laid-back type who wants to enjoy life.” His gaze wanders over my face. “But you make me want to be ambitious, to catch the stars on a starry night and pull them down for you.”
I turn toward him, my expression serious. “I don’t want you to be anything for me. I want you to just be you.”
Tugging at a curl brushing my shoulder, he lifts his head. “Sometimes I’m not sure who I am.” He kisses me so softly I lean forward, hoping for another touch of his lips. “Except when I’m with you, pretty Allie.” Our mouths are so close his words are a light breeze on my skin. He blows gently on my lips. “Be with me?”
My fingers dig into the skin of his ribs as I scoot closer to him. “Can’t seem to help myself.”
He chuckles deep in his chest. “Quiche for lunch?”
I lean down to give his pierced nipple a wet kiss and his pectoral jumps. “Yes, definitely—later though.” I give the ring a soft jerk with my teeth.
“Maybe not even later.” He groans. “Food can wait. Exam week too.”
All four of us are crowded into a small room to the left of the stage as the stagehands finish the sound
