He sighed, “Sleep well, my love. I’ll see you soon.”
“Goodnight Vince.”
Ending the call, I rolled over. Not even sleeping in my dress, or a hotel bed. Could keep me from falling asleep.
My grip tightened on the gun under my pillow, moving my thumb over the safety. Just as I felt the bed dip, I opened my eyes.
The spike of panic disappearing.
Vince.
“What are you doing here?” My voice was muffled, watching as he got into bed next to me.
“I missed you.” He kissed my forehead, pulling me to his chest. “And I didn’t want to sleep without you.”
“What time is it?”
“It’s late,” His hand ran down my back, “you’re still dressed.”
“Didn’t have the energy to take it off.”
He pushed the covers back.
“Don’t break the zip. I didn’t bring anything else to wear.”
Rolling over, as he unzipped the dress. Pulling it free. Immediately, I was more comfortable.
I pushed back into him, resting my head on his arm.
I let him take the gun from my hand. For the first time, I didn’t feel a need to have it within reach while staying at a hotel. Not when he was right next to me.
Vince was sitting on the edge of the bed, a towel around his waist. Talking to Nikolai on the phone.
I gripped his shoulder, sitting over his lap.
Seeing him naked should not have such an affect on me.
Seriously, couldn’t Nik talk to him later? Running my nail under his necklace before kissing the faint scar on his chest.
He undid the front of my towel, pushing it off me. That drunken look of possession in his eyes really did crazy things to me.
If he thought we were leaving this room without him fucking me. We were going to have an argument. I reached for his free hand, taking his finger in my mouth. Then a second.
I frowned, seeing my lipstick mark from yesterday still on the back of his hand, near the edge of his thumb. How hadn’t that come off in the shower?
Taking his fingers out of my mouth, I looked closer.
My heartbeat suddenly quicker. He had gotten it tattooed. In the exact shade as my lipstick. The red ink stood out against all his black tattoos.
He nipped my bottom lip.
I was so focused on the tattoo. I hadn’t even heard him end the call.
Before he could deepen the kiss and end my ability to think, I put my hand on his chest, pushing him back.
“Did you get my…” I stared at the tattoo again. Suddenly, my words disappeared. It wasn’t even a perfect shape, slightly smudged at the corners. Why wouldn’t he have told me so I could have got a perfect shape for him.
Though why had he got it tattooed in the first place. I had always kissed his hand, and I had left a lot of lipstick marks on him over the years.