Page 122 of Revival

“Yep,” Spencer confirms. “Whatever she wants, and I sent you mine the other day.”

Dante taps his monitor. “Already saw it in the inbox. Who’s going first?”

“You go ahead.” I wave Spencer away as I wander over to the wall of designs. “I’m still deciding.”

“Take your time,” Dante says. “We can get started, and I have another artist ready whenever you are. Cole will take care of you.”

A glance over my shoulder is perfectly timed to catch Dante’s wink.

Spencer scowls.

“Give us a sec.”

He marches over to me without waiting for Dante’s reply.

“See anything you like?” His voice is rough in my ear, spurring to life fantasies of his well-practiced dirty talk.

“I don’t know. I’m thinking about this butterfly on my ass. What do you think?” The teasing grin rising to the surface nearly gives me away. I bite my lip.

Wrapping his arm around my torso, he curls his fingers around my neck and tilts my head. “If you have to remove your clothes, I’m going to rip this place apart, Kitten.” He kisses the spot I’m going to be covering up. “Nobody gets to see what’s mine.”

A shiver races down my spine.

“I love how possessive you are.”

“You like hearing you’re mine?”

I curl my arm around to cup the back of his head. “As long as you know you’re also mine.”

“Don’t say shit like that when I can’t fuck you,” he groans in my ear. “Later, when I have you naked, you can say it all you want.”

“Promise?”

“Promise that I’ll have you naked or promise that I’ll let you say it?” He nips the shell of my ear.

“Both.”

Finding my hand behind his head, he curls our pinky fingers together. “Promise.”

“Spencer, I have a client booked after you, so if you want this done, you better get moving!”

Spencer touches his mouth to mine. “I’ll be back, Kitten. Pick out something you like, or don’t. Whether you’re ready to do this today or not is your choice.”

I stroke his beard. “Better get back there before you lose your spot.”

Spencer taps my ass, then ambles away.

My options are limitless. I skip over anything fine line. Even though the dice are an outline, they’ll still require something with color to hide the original lines and the dark circles marking the numbers on each die. I walk up and down the display, listening to the low murmurs from the two talking over the buzz of the machine.

I find the perfect design.

The meaning jumps out at me, keeping this from being just an ordinary cover-up. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. It’s just that I want Sebastian gone, and if I can do that in a meaningful way, I’m going to try.

“You must be Cortney.” A guy dressed in all black with a close-shaved Mohawk approaches me.

“You must be Cole.”

I shake his hand.

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