Page 17 of Ronen
Staring at his forearms–his bare forearms–my mouth opened, but no sound came out. I had been coming to this library nearly daily for over a year, and this was the very first time I had ever seen the bare skin of Ronen’s arms. He was always buttonedup as tight as could be. From the button at his collar to the ones on his cuffs at his wrists.
But today, Ronen Sinclair was showing some serious skin.
The cuffs of his light blue button up were rolled up just past his elbows. And the visible pale flesh was covered in tattoos. On both arms.
Rubbing my tired eyes, I was sure I was seeing things. But nope, sure enough the ink was still there, lines of black in intricate designs decorating his forearms.
Now that I really looked at him, the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, showing just a hint of dark chest hair peeking out, as well as more ink.
Was that part of a wolf’s head I saw that had to be located over his pec?
Ronen had tattoos.
Several tattoos.
Lots of tattoos.
How had I not known this?
Because he’s always got every button buttoned as tight as it can be, my dragon breathed, just as interested in this new development as I was.
Those tattoos were…hot.
Yep, no way to get around it, all that ink was doing it for me.
Did he have more? How many? Where?
Suddenly, I had an overwhelming need to discover every single one of Ronen’s tattoos and trace them with my tongue.
“Why are you standing here, staring at me?” he demanded, sighing tiredly.
He rubbed his eyes, and I noticed he had dark circles under his pretty green eyes. His hair was its usual mess, only slightlyworse this morning. He always looked like he had a perpetual case of bedhead, but his hair was downright wild this morning. Sticking up all over his head, in thick, dark locks that I itched to run my fingers through.
His eyes narrowed on me. “You’ve lost another book, haven’t you? Of course you have.” He threw up his hands, before I even had a chance to respond. “What’s the excuse this time? Because I think I’ve heard them all at this point.”
“My goat ate it.”
Honesty was always the best policy.
Maybe not, by the flare of anger that lit up his eyes, before he seemed to remember where he was.
Closing his eyes, and pinching the bridge of his nose, he took a deep breath. He muttered something under his breath I didn’t even try to catch and waited for him to get himself together.
Blinking his eyes open, his lips set in a thin line of disapproval, he tapped away on his keyboard.
I winced each time his fingers banged on a key. I wasn’t sure if it was possible to break a keyboard by hitting it too hard, but Ronen seemed like he was trying to find out.
“Which book?” he snapped.
Fuck all if I could remember the title. I read a ridiculous number of books in a week and owned even more. Rarely did I remember titles. Hell, I’d been known to buy the same book twice, forgetting I already had it.
“Uh,” I searched my memory for anything to go off. “It’s got an alpha pirate on the cover. His shirt is open to about here,” I pointed to halfway down my own chest, and Ronen’s eyes followed my finger. “He’s waving a sword and holding onto…something on his pirate ship.” What I knew about boats in general would fit in my pinky. “I don’t know much about boats, but it’s like…rope?” Maybe? I had no clue.
His nostrils flared, and two of his fingers rubbed at a spot in the middle of his forehead, like I was giving him a headache. Tapping his keyboard again–he really was trying to break the thing–he took a minute reading whatever had appeared on his screen, before snapping, “The Omega’s Pirate Captain?”
Since I still had no fucking clue, I agreed. “Sure.”
“You don’t sound very sure,” he snapped.
