Page 30 of Tragic Ink
“Natural causes. That’s the official finding so far.But...”
“We both know it wasn’t natural. Not with the hellhound gettingloose.”
Rhys’ brow furrowed. “Is it possible his tattoo could have activated when hedied?”
“No. The magic only lives as long as thewearer.”
He let out a breath, but he didn’t lookrelieved.
“What?” Iasked.
“Remember the call Deputy Conall claimed to get about the disturbance last night?” I nodded. “My contact says Walter was the anonymouscaller.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Walter let his hellhound loose and aimed it at innocent people he likely didn’t even know, and then he called thepolice?”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Rhys agreed, his gaze far away as he stared at the curtains covering the sunlit window. Finally, he blinked and looked at me, focusing on my body for what felt like the first time since he’d comein.
Suddenly, I remembered I’d taken off everything but my black tank top and panties last night. My exposed skin tingled where his gazetouched.
“I should get dressed,” I said hastily, reaching for the sheet, coffee still clutched in one hand, but Rhys stopped me. Carefully, he took the mug out of my hand and set it on the nightstand. Then he scooted closer until we were almost nose to nose. His eyes blazed with a hunger that I’d only ever experienced in my own body. Desire—no, need—reflected back atme.
Slowly, he reached for me, his hand cupped tightly against the back of my neck, his thumb stroking my jawline. He held me there, his expression daring me toobject.
“If you think for one second that I’m done with you,” he said, and then rather than finish that statement with words, he kissedme.
The second his mouth met mine, heat exploded inside me. His kiss wasn’t gentle or soft or anything resembling asking my permission—not like it had been last night in the truck. Instead, he took, his mouth hot and heavy, his hands demanding as they explored. And damn if I didn’t lethim.
Screw enchanted tattoos—this right here was the realmagic.
His hands roamed my body, down my arms and then over my hips, all while pressing into me with his mouth and his erection. My skin thrummed where his fingers touched—my collarbone, my throat, tangling in my hair. He leaned against me, easing us both down so that I was on my back against the bed and Rhys was pressed against me in all the right places. My blood heated, and I rocked my hips against his, lost in the feel of him. Of knowing he wanted me.Finally.
My left hip tingled extra hard, but I ignored it, too caught up in the moment to do anything but appreciate my body’sreaction.
When his tongue darted inside my mouth and tangled with my own, I clutched at his shirt, fisting my hands in the fabric in desperation. His hand dropped from my hair long enough to hook behind my knee, drawing my leg up and wrapping it around his waist. He rocked into me, and I lost it, my head falling back against the pillow as Rhys pressed a trail of hot kisses down my throat before nipping at my ear. His fingers found the edge of my panties, and my insides sizzled in anticipation as his hand slipped inside the thin fabric, inching toward mycenter.
It was everything I’d wanted for solong.
Without warning, Rhys broke off, his eyes wide, his mouth open in a shockedexpression.
“What the hell?” he demanded, jumping clear of me and the bed in oneleap.
Iron clanged against iron as the tattoo that had peeled itself away from my hip took shape, color, and then dimension, and finally fastened itself to Rhys’s body. He stared down at it, dumbstruck as it welded itself together—tight from the looks of it. Painfullytight.
Dazed, I stared up at where he stood with his back to the bedroom door. It took a moment for the fog to clear and the tingling to subside enough for me to notice what was happening. When I finally did, I had to press my lips together to keep from laughing. The twinge in my hip suddenly made sense. After all this time, I’d almostforgotten.
Rhys glared back at me, indignation hard to accomplish in his current state. But he managed. “What the fuck is this?” hedemanded.
“Um, I believe it’s called a chastity belt,” I supplied, sitting up so I could get a better look at my owncreation.
“Are you kiddingme?”
I decided not to answer, fairly certain anything I said would unleash the laughter I was holding back. Rhys glared at me, the iron clanking as he shifted his weight. “You did this—your tattoo... Why the hell would you dothis?”
“I honestly forgot about it,” I told him, guilt creeping in as I watched him struggle to unlock thething.
His eyes narrowed, clearlyunconvinced.
I tilted my head as the memory returned. “That day in my backyard when we were— The day we first kissed... I was hurt when you broke it off and walkedaway.”
