Page 143 of Broken

“If I didn’t know there were cameras everywhere, I’d be on my knees with my tongue inside of you. What’s it gonna be, Vixen? We can go talk some more, or ride my bike back to your place, and you ride my face until you can’t think straight?”

“Uh, the second one.”

Garrett takes my hand and lowers it to his dick, pressing my palm to it. Actions speak louder than words. That is Garrett all over.

“What are you waiting for?” I arch a brow.

The grin is sex personified. How have I managed so long without this?

He helps me on the seat and takes my thigh, spreading my legs and lifting one, so I’m straddling the bike.

I’m not convinced I’m going to make it home. Garrett hands me the helmet, which he had waiting by his before I even got out here and saw him. He stands before me, his brow creased.

Sexy Garrett has gone away.

“I never meant for you to get hurt,” he says. “That was the last thing I wanted.”

All I can do is nod. He means every word he says. He’s right, we can figure all of that out later. My heart knew it would go back to Baltimore. To Blackhawk Ink. To him. It needed a gentle push.

Or the promise of a sexy, tattooed grumpy asshole pushing inside of me until I lose all control of my body. Yes, I like that idea better.

And I love the idea of having both.

Epilogue

Garrett

Calli arches her back and lets out a little moan and I have to look up from what I’m doing. This woman is beautiful, and I’ll never tire of watching her. Or tracing the lines of her perfect skin with my hands, tongue, or eyes.

Having her lying in my bed is still a novelty, one I can’t say I don’t enjoy. And not only when we’re fucking. Which we do a lot. Sleeping beside her settles me in a way I’ve never experienced.

She squints one eye open and finds me instantly. “Again?” she mumbles.

“What can I say,” I smirk. “I need to practice my skills.”

“You don’t need practice,” she stretches and brushes some hair off her cheek. “You’re at the top of your field.”

I let out a laugh. “You can’t rest on thoughts like that, Vixen. You should never stop trying to better yourself.”

Calli rolls onto her side and props her chin up, her elbow pressed into the mattress.

“Shit,” I sit up. “Don’t move.”

“Garrett,” she sighs.

I swipe over to a clean page and prop my foot on the end of the bed so I can use my knee as a rest for the sketch pad. She’s right though, she’s the perfect muse.

Calli is a good girl, as ever, and stays still as I sketch her. This is the second pad I’ve filled with drawings of her.

This one can never fall into the hands of another living person. I’d have to kill them.

She sits for fifteen minutes before her arm drops and she rolls onto her stomach.

“I need the bathroom.”

“Fine. I can finish it from memory,” I smirk at her, then watch as she glides gracefully off my bed.

As she passes, she brushes her hand over my shoulder and peeks at the drawing. Her soft smile tells me she likes it. What’s not to like? While she’s gone, I continue the sketch, adding shading where it needs to be based on the light source. I pay extra close attention to the slope of her breast. Even when drawing her, they get special treatment.

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