Page 17

COREY

“Right now, I’ll take whatever you’ll give me.” I rear back a little. Did those words just actually come out of my mouth?

Fucking hell. Get your shit together, man.

She stares back at me, shadows clouding her eyes, but they lighten slightly as my words register.

If I had time to think about an answer, I would have told her that I just wanted a little more of last night. That’s what I’d usually say, and all I’m usually willing to give, but my subconscious has clearly decided that’s not everything I’m willing to give this woman.

“So …” She hesitates, and I hate that I’m making her question herself right now. “You didn’t just want me for one hot night?”

“Fuck,” I grunt, remembering last night and just how hot it really was. Do I want more of that? Fuck yeah. But is that all I want?

The fact that I’m asking myself these questions pisses me off.

I should be screaming that yes, sex is all I want.

It’s all I’ve got the time and energy for.

But the thought of her walking away because that offer isn’t good enough has me panicking.

Last night wasn’t enough, I’ve come to terms with that, but I’m not in a place where I can seriously consider anything more.

“If you’re asking if I want a repeat, then hell yeah. Last night was mind-blowing. If you’re asking if that’s all I want, then … honestly, I don’t know. My life is … complicated.”

“Right.” She pushes to the edge of the chair, and I panic.

“But …” She looks up at me, hope filling her eyes, “I’d like to spend more time with you,” I admit, and really, it’s not hard to do so.

This woman is pretty incredible. On the outside, she seems like one thing, but close that bedroom door and she’s someone else entirely.

I can’t lie and say I don’t want to find out exactly what makes her tick.

“Not just in the bedroom?”

“Shall we do what we need to do here, then I’ll take you for dinner. How’s that sound?”

A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth before she remembers something. “I might run before we get that far.”

I lean forward, both my hands running up her thighs, my fingers dipping under the hem of her dress and whisper, “It’s okay, I’ve locked the door.

” I must admit that it comes out sounding a little more sinister than I was expecting, but when she shudders beneath my palms, it seems she took it as intended.

She nods, turning to her bag beside her.

I sit back as she pulls a battered piece of paper from inside and unfolds it. She stares at it for a moment before finding some courage and passing it over.

I love nothing more than doing a tattoo for someone that means something.

Some of them are so personal that it’s like they’re exposing a piece of themselves to me just for that small amount of time, even if they’re too scared to do it to anyone else.

And that’s exactly how I feel when I take hold of the paper.

I didn’t need to hear the conviction in her tone when she responded to my question about this being important to her earlier. I could sense it.

I hold her eyes for a second before ripping them away and down to her drawing.

It’s a dandelion with the seeds drifting off, nothing too out of the ordinary, but as I look closer, the seeds that are flying away have names in them.

Looking back up at her, I find tears pooling in her dark eyes.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to make you talk about it if you don’t want to. I’m not a therapist, although not all my clients are aware of that,” I add, thinking about the weird and wonderful things people have told me over the years.

“I’m sorry,” she says, looking to the other side of the room and lifting her hands to wipe her eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Reaching out, I gently press my fingers to her cheek and move her eyes back to mine.

“We don’t have to do this now if you don’t want. We could always plan it for a future date.” The fact that I’ve just offered to date this woman in a roundabout way isn’t lost on me, but it doesn’t panic me like I thought it might.

“No. I need to do this. I’ve run scared too many times. And … rightly or wrongly, I trust you.”

My chest constricts at her words, making my breath catch. I haven’t heard those words for years, and they take me back to a time that needs to stay locked in the box I’ve put it in.

Swallowing the lump she’s caused in my throat, I focus on the task at hand.

“Okay, so where are we doing this?”

“On my back, up my spine, with the seeds on my shoulder blades.”

“That’s probably going to hurt.”

“I know. I can handle it. Just promise me you’ll be gentle.”

My eyes bounce between hers. “Always.”

“So … what’s next?” she asks nervously.

“You’re going to need to show me some skin.” I wiggle my eyebrows as a wicked grin curls at my lips.

“Ah, I see. This is all a ploy to get me naked again.”

“It’s your fault. You could have asked for it on your leg.”

She stands before me, my knees still either side of hers. There are only inches between us, but it seems her inner goddess has found its way past the nerves.

Wrapping her fingers around the hem of her dress, she pulls it upwards.

I’m powerless but to watch as she reveals her perfect, milky skin to me. Biting down on my bottom lip, I run my eyes up the curve of her hip, over the black lace covering her and up her slim waist.

My cock swells as she lifts it higher, revealing her bra-encased breasts. I curse the padding that’s stopping me from seeing her perfect rosebud nipples. I bet they’re pert right now.

As the fabric clears her head, her red hair falls back down around her shoulders.

The silence in the room is heavy as we stare at each other with chemistry crackling between us. She’s right there in touching distance. All I’d have to do is lean forward, and I could feel her soft skin.

“C-Corey?” The slight waver in her voice proves that she’s maybe not as confident right now as she appears.

“Fuck.” I scrub my hands down my face and over my rough jaw.

“Don’t you want to …” She reaches for her dress that’s been discarded on the end of the chair.

“No,” I say, standing and wrapping my fingers around her wrist, stopping her from picking it back up. “I’m just really fucking glad Snake didn’t get to do this.”

I lean forward and she gasps, her pupils dilating. I know she thinks I’m about to kiss her, but as much as I might want to do exactly that, I know I can’t. Not yet, anyway. I’ve got a job to do, and I need to keep my head in the game and not just think with my cock.

Reaching out, I hit the button on the chair to flatten it.

She jumps in front of me as the movement startles her.

“Lie down on your front,” I whisper in her ear. She shudders as my breath tickles down her neck, and goose bumps prick her skin.

“O-Okay,” she breathes.

Reluctantly, I take a step back and watch as she does as I say. My fists clench with need, but I stay put. I’ve got a job to do. So what if I want to fuck my client into next week? I’m a professional.

She pulls her hair over her shoulder and looks at me. I drop my eyes down her back and stop on her lace-covered arse.

Jesus fucking Christ. Why couldn’t she have at least been wearing trousers? I hate to do it, but I turn around and grab a blanket that I’ve got folded up on the side. I shake it out and cover her from the waist down.

“I don’t want you getting cold,” I mumble as an excuse. Of course I want her to be comfortable, but this is as much for my own comfort as it is hers.

With her eyes still on me, I make a show of rearranging myself just so she knows exactly what the sight of her almost-naked body does to me before turning around to sort out my kit.

I’d tidied up after my client left, thinking that I was done for the day. How wrong I was.

After settling myself beside her, I look over her smooth, flawless skin. Excitement tingles just below the surface. I love getting my hands on a virgin.

“I’m glad I get to be your first,” I murmur, much to her amusement.

“So, starting here,” I press my finger against the skin of her lower back, and I swear to fucking God that an electric current shoots up my arm.

If her surprised gasp is anything to go by, I’d say she felt it too.

“And then finish about up here?” I walk my fingers up her back and delight in the shudder that runs through her.

“Y-yes.”

Let me stencil it on and you can check that you’re happy.

“No,” she blurts, making she pause. “Just do it. I trust you.”

My heart beats a little faster as her words settle into me.

“You’re going to need to stay still.”

“Then you’d better stop tickling.”

Silence descends as I get her ready for the needle.

“Did you draw this?” I ask, looking at her sketch.

“Yeah. I know I won’t be winning any awards anytime soon.”

“I’ve seen a lot worse,” I chuckle, picking up my machine and turning it on. She tenses beneath me at the sound. “So, if art’s not your thing, what are you good at?” I ask, hoping I can distract her a little.

“Um … I’m not sure I have a talent, to be honest. Ow, fuck,” she moans as I touch skin for the first time.

“I’d beg to differ. I think you’re very talented.”

“I’m not sure that’s a compliment,” she mutters.

“Why not? I think you’re a fantastic dancer.” She laughs, and I’m forced to stop what I’m doing as her body jiggles. The soft sound is too good to make her stop.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” she says when she realises she’s making my life hard.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, I’m not regretting it yet.”

“Life’s too short for regrets.” I don’t know why I say it, because the reality is that I spend most of my days drowning in mine.

“So you’d think.” The sadness in her voice pulls at something inside me.

“Sorry, I fucking hate that saying.”

“Me too.”