Page 69 of Wanting Wentworth

I can do that.

“No.” Pulling myself up the side of the ladder while she’s still looking away, I plant my feet on the dock. Even though she’s not looking directly at me, she must see something because her cheeks pink up and that tongue of hers slips out to skim along the inside of her lower lip again, the sight of it unlocking a whole other level of fantasies that involve Kaitlyn Barrett and what I want to do to her on this dock.

“No?” She says it to the water, throwing in a scowl for good measure. “What do you mean no?”

“I mean no—you’re not leaving until we cross something off your list.” Turning away from her, I snap my sweats up off the sun-warmed wood and pull them on. Tying the drawstring, I look down at her. “Wait here,” I tell her. “I’ll be right back.”

THIRTY-NINE

Kaitlyn

I don’t know what I’m doing.

Why I’m still here.

Why I can’t stay away.

If Brock finds out about Went—or God forbid my father…

Dad is gone and besides, he’s the one who sent you up here in the first place.

“Maybe so, but he wouldn’t have if he knew Damien’s rich art friend from California looked like that.” Aiming my gaze across the water, I shake my head. “If Brock finds out—”

Fuck that asshole. You should’ve told me the truth about why you broke up with him when I asked you. If you had, you wouldn’t have anything to worry about.

“Why’s that?” Gaze still aimed across the water, I hear the front door slam shut, a few seconds before I hear the crunch of feet walking across gravel.

Because if I’d known that piece of shit hit my little sister, he’d be as dead as I am.

“Luke…” Shaking my head again, I drop my tone when I hear the hollow thud of Went’s footsteps on the dock.

You should’ve told me Kaity. I was your brother. I would’ve believed you. I could’ve protected you.

I don’t answer him because I’m suddenly in Went’s shadow. I look up to find him towering over me, his wide, powerful shoulders blotting out the sun. Lifting a hand to shield my gaze, I force myself to forget that not only is he still wearing nothing but a pair of worn, gray sweats, he just got finished telling me how much he wants to fuck me and exactly how he wants to do it.

…and then when you leave I want to draw every second of it so I’ll never forget what you looked like the first time you came for me.

Suddenly so flush, I feel like I might pass out, I look away from his face, my gaze skittering along his shoulder and down his arm, trying to find something I can look at without feeling like I might die. Finally letting it rest on what he’s holding in his hands, I feel my forehead crease with confusion. “Markers?”

“No.” Hunkering down next to me, Went gives me a grin. “Well… yes. But not just markers.” He sits down, sliding himself across the dock to sit behind me. “They’re tattoo markers.”

“Tatt...” My voice trails off when I feel him shift and position himself behind me, moving his legs to either side of mine so that I’m sitting in between them. “Tattoo markers?” This time I manage to say it without sounding like a bumbling idiot.

“Yup.” He sets the case on the dock and opens it. “I use them when I draw designs for work.”

“Work?” I aim my gaze across the water and try to remember how to breathe. “I thought you worked in black and white—pencil,” I clarify while I listen to him organize his case.

“I do on paper—when I tattoo, I prefer color.”

Without thinking, I turn myself to look at him, the move bringing us face to face—or really, face to chest. Forcing my gaze upward, I find his. “You’re a tattoo artist?”

“Almost.” The corner of his mouth quirks. “I’m a tattoo apprentice—I work summers in a shop back home.” Reaching up with his free hand, he brushes the hair away from my face like he did earlier. “I know it’s not a real tattoo but I think under the circumstances it counts…” His devil black gaze falls to my mouth for a moment and heats before he lifts it to find mine. “There’s only one catch.”

“Catch?” Jesus, I can’t think. Why can’t I think when I’m around him?

“Yeah.” He reaches out and tugs at the hem of my T-shirt with a crooked smile that curls my toes. “You’re gonna have to get half naked for me.”

“My shirt?” I shake my head. “You want me to take my shirt off?”

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