Page 83 of Not Dating Material

“Well, you know how you asked if you can tattoo me? And I’m too scared?”

“Yes …”

“I was looking up date ideas, and I saw couples painting and thought—”

“Were you looking up dating or sex?” he asks. “Because body painting your partner isn’t usually second-date level. Just so you know.”

“Ah, right. Maybe we’ll forget about—”

“Nope.” Seven shifts back closer again and tilts my head up until I meet his eye. “What did you think, Molly?”

I swallow. “That you could paint me. Instead.”

“What, like your face? Arms—”

“All of me.”

I expect him to be shocked or to turn me down. To remind me that we agreed no more sleeping together, and with the tension in the room right now, if I get naked, I’m going to be hard as fuck. He’s going to know exactly what I’m thinking. Will he act on it?

Seven’s a no-bullshit kind of guy—maybe he thinks naked body painting is a totally innocent thing that can happen between friends.

“All of you could take a while,” he says.

“I don’t care.”

His grip on my jaw tightens. “Better get comfortable, then.”

Excitement surges through me, and I scramble to pull off my shirt. Seven busies himself with the paints, and the fact he didn’t argue or second-guess has me full of relief because if he’d said no, if he’d been even the slightest bit unsure, this wouldn’t be happening. I want him in all the ways you can possibly want someone, but I’m not going to chase him. If he’s already running from me, that’s not a sign of a great start to the relationship.

It’s taken me this long to figure it out.

I kick my pants to the side and then lie down, front to the canvas. Apparently, when it comes to the floors, Xander can make a mess on them, but nobody else can. Given the type of mess I’m hoping to make tonight, Xander’s forethought is probably spot-on.

“What are you doing?”

I freeze at the confusion in Seven’s voice.

Oh, fuck, this is what we agreed to, isn’t it?

“Umm … getting conformable.”

His chuckle is dark, and I jump when his fingers slide down my sides and beneath the band of my briefs. “You’re still wearing these.”

“Ah, right. Do you … do you want them off?”

“You promised me everywhere.” He leans in, face brushing mine as he pushes down the material. “Were you lying?”

“Nuh-uh. No. Nope. No lies.”

“Good. Then hold still and let me get you ready for me.”

Hold still? Way to set me an impossible task, Seven. Does this guy not know what he’s doing to me? I’m almost vibrating out of my skin at his touch, and when he slides my briefs off my ass and down my legs, leaving my hard cock trapped under me, a chill of being naked and exposed sends goose bumps over my skin.

“You ready?”

“So ready.” I’ll beg if he asks me to. I’ll do anything. In fact, I’d be more than happy to skip the painting and just have Seven’s hands on me. He has other ideas though.

I turn my head slightly so I can watch him pick up a paintbrush and dip it into the paint. It’s a tiny brush, giving me the very clear sign that Seven isn’t in any kind of hurry.

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