Page 10 of Tempt Me

“Yes. If you bought a new phone or changed numbers, it’d show up on one of those paid search sites. Unless you bought a burner phone. But you need internet access, so I got this one on my account. He won’t think to look me up and search for a second number.”

“That’s…,” she sighs, causing her shoulders to sag. “That’s so sweet. Thank you. This time, he might not be able to find me.” She launches forward, throws her arms around my neck, and kisses my cheek. The sensation goes straight to my dick. “Thank you.”

After I wrap my arms around her, I close my eyes and freeze in place. If I move, she might disappear, and nothing has ever felt this good. I can’t say how many times I’ve dreamed of this. Prayed for this. Begged for this. And it’s happening.

Her tiny body fits perfectly against me. She’s soft against my hard muscles. My hands stroke over her back before I can stop myself. As I inhale her scent again, her breasts press against my chest, and my dick strains against my zipper.

Fuck, she’s perfect. She stumbles, and I shift my hips to keep her from feeling just how obsessed I am with her.

“Oh….” Her eyes widen as she jumps backward. “I’m so sorry. This is so awkward. I didn’t mean to climb all over you.” She glances at her wrist as her cheeks turn red. “I’ve got to get to my next class.”

“Here. Let me get the phone for you.” I jog to the driver’s side door and grab the bag. If she hadn’t stepped back, would I have forced myself on her? Surely, I’m not as desperate as this Brock character.

No. I can control myself around her. I must. “My number is saved as one of your contacts if you ever need anything.”

“Thank you.” She carefully retrieves it from me so that our fingers don’t touch. Great. I’ve already made things awkward. Did she brush into me and feel how turned on I was? She slides into her car and speeds past me in one swift motion.

Jesus. I’m a dumbass.

Chapter Five

Twisted Ink

Dominic

The doorbell jingles as I walk inside the cool building. The business is different from your typical tattoo parlor. Or at least, it’s not like the seedy ones you see tucked into a broken-down building.

Twisted Ink is a top-notch business with talented artists who’re frequently showcased in magazines. From the time I drew my first portrait of an anime character on my arm at ten years old, I’ve been obsessed with the intricacies of art and its expression on the human body.

My mother wasn’t excited. She thought it was a sure sign I was going to end up like my father–broke, drugged out, in prison, and abandoning her for the fast life.

I roll my shoulders to ease the tension that settles there anytime my father’s face pops into my head. Thankfully, I didn’t turn into him. Maybe it’s because I still feel the sting of his broken promises. Or maybe it’s because of my mom and my friends. Either way, I walk a tightrope, never veering close to the edge of breaking the law.

“Hey, Dom.” Rissa smiles from behind the cash register. “Happy to see your gorgeous face this morning.”

“Thanks.” Heat covers my cheeks. “I’m sorry I’m late. I had an errand to run this morning. I should’ve called to let you know.” This is the first time I’ve been late since I started the job.

She leans her hip against the counter and eyes me up and down. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything’s good. I had to drop something off with a friend.”

“A girl?” She waggles her eyebrows as Rob, one of my other bosses, glances up from the tattoo he’s inking.

“Yes.” I laugh and rake my hand through my hair.

I trust them both, but there’s no secrets in the tattoo shop. It’s like a hair salon or a bar. People pull back the curtain and confess all their sins once they get into one of our chairs while simultaneously pretending they’re not seeking advice.

“You have a friend?” Sam steps out of my room and slaps his hands on his hips. “A girlfriend? How do I not know about this? You haven’t had a girlfriend since high school.”

The air around me stops moving, and the only sound is the thudding of my heartbeat in my ears.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” I stomp over to the scheduling book and groan. No wonder Sam is here. He’s my 12 o’clock appointment, and I get to spend the next hour putting ink on his shoulder while avoiding twenty questions. Of course, today would be the day he has off. “I was dropping off something for Bella.”

His jaw flexes as his eyes narrow into slits. “What were you doing taking something to my sister?”

‘It’s none of your business’ is on the tip of my tongue, but I bite it instead of spouting off. The faint metallic taste of blood signals that the bite was harder than I anticipated.

I swallow it down and march toward him. When you’re facing the enemy, it’s best to feign annoyance and own the conversation. I’ve been playing this game for years. “She needed something.” I straighten my shoulders and cock my head sideways. “I took it to her. End of story.”

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