Page 63 of Stone: The Precursor

Annoyed, I stalk past her and drop Onyx’s fancy ass coffee on the counter, sloshing it on the countertop. She looks up and glances at me. Her face expressionless, before looking back down at her magazine, flipping the pages slowly.

The black coffee burns my tongue, and I hiss. I can feel Camryn’s stare, but I don’t even look at her, too afraid my eyes will travel down to her slim, sleek thigh where she crossed her legs. She’s wearing sneakers with socks. I breathe in and smell her scent that mixes with the aroma of rich coffee. She smells like a fucking dream. Turpentine and something fresh and flowery. I imagine her pussy has that same delicious smell. Damn her. I head to the office irritated with myself. I should just take her. Bring her upstairs and eat her pussy and be done with it, but her brother mentally stops me. Sitting at my desk, I try to concentrate, but I want to know why she’s here.

I make my way back out and see Onyx sitting next to her, pointing to his notebook. My body clenches. It’s his tattoo sketch book. She’s getting a tattoo. But I want to hear it from her.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

She jumps, startled, and looks up at me, her eyes wide.

Onyx answers even though the question wasn’t for him.

“She’s getting a tattoo.”

“The fuck she is.”

“Excuse me?” Camryn stands up and stalks over to me. “I’m right here, asshole. Don’t talk about me like I’m not!”

My hands itch to slap her ass for her bitchy attitude, and then cuff her neck with my fingers and palm while I push my fist inside her pussy when I ask her to repeat what she said in that prim and proper tone.

“What is your problem? Is this a tattoo shop or not?”

“Yes,” I grit out, trying not to breathe in her scent.

“Then I want a tattoo.”

“No.”

“Yes,” She barks, her eyes brows slashing down.

“Set up an appointment somewhere else.”

“I already have an appointment. With Onyx.”

I look over at one of my best friends. He shrugs, seemingly indifferent, but I see something in his eyes, something that lets me know what he plans on saying next is going to piss me the fuck off.

“Inner thigh tattoo.”

Yup. There it is. I turn to my little Countess just in time to see her smirk. “What did you say?” I ask him, but keep my eyes on her.

“He said he’s doing my inner thigh tattoo. Now if you don’t mind, Onyx and I were discussing the design.” She moves back to Onyx and sits next to him, and leans over his arm. I want to kill him when I see her breasts touch his arm. “You were saying, Onyx?”

Onyx’s lips tilt up, and I know he finds this humorous. Bastard. He opens his mouth, and I interrupt him. “You are not getting the tattoo. We have a wait policy of 48 hours.”

This time, Onyx does smile. It’s rare. He stands walking away. I’m lying my ass off, and he knows it. We do walk-in tattoos all the time.

“You can’t do that! He’s already started the design. I already paid!” Onyx doesn’t answer her, but heads to his office. The door closes softly. “You asshole!” She gets right in my face, and I grab her wrist. “Let me go!” She tugs, and I pull her closer, getting close to her face.

“Shut up,” I growl, the possessiveness clouding my rational thought. She’s here. Trying to get a tattoo on a part of her body that I crave, that I want to bite and cut and ejaculate all over. No part of her body is allowed to be touched by anyone but me.Onyx was right to haul ass. He’s already witnessed my irrational jealousy over her.

Reed Spencer was found two weeks ago, decomposing badly in a dirty alley, a drug deal gone wrong, according to news reports. It was reported that he had been robbed during an apparent drug deal. From the amount of drug paraphernalia found in is apartment he was desperate to feed his growing addiction. Opiates were also found in his system during his autopsy. Toxicology reports done by the coroner’s office revealed that he had taken a high dose of fentanyl before his death.

“Fuck you!”

My girl damn near spits in my face. Her in a temper is a tantalizing sight to see. She tears her hand away, and I let her.“You’re playing with fire. Let’s see if you can handle the heat.”

“What the fuck does that even mean!?” Camryn opens her arms, waving them around. “What is your problem?! You are so confusing.”

“It means you want a tattoo. Fine. But the only one inking you, is me.”