Page 14 of Get It In Writing
“Oh,” he says to the waitress, “I don’t usually like to talk about them. It’s private.”
She stands up straight and her face contorts into a confused, pissed off scowl.
“Another round, then?” she asks, dismissively.
“Please,” I say. “I’d love another one of these.”
Harper reaches across the table and squeezes my hand as the waitress walks away.
“That’s my girl,” he says.
“You have women hit on you often?” I ask, my voice shaking a little. I’m surprised at myself and my ability to stand up for what I want, even if it was in a tiny, little way. Maybe this is the new me. Self-assured. Able to do whatever I want.
“Not anymore, if I can help it,” he says, smiling warmly. “Now, let me show you this.”
He pulls my hand across the table and opens it up, my palm facing upward. A flash of goosebumps hits my arm like a cold burst of air.
“I like tattoos,” he says, tracing the length of each of my fingers with his, sending a shiver right through me, “but I like you better with pure skin.”
“What if I got a tattoo? Would you like me then?” I asked, my breath jagged and uneven as his fingertips traced up my arm.
“I’d still like you,” he says, looking at me with a cocky smile, chin down and eyes blazing at me across the table. “But if you get a tattoo, it better be my name stamped on your ass so any other guy who tries to get with you knows that you’re all mine.”
That shiver the boss sent down my spine a second ago? Now it was going other places too, sending my brain positively spinning.
I look away from him as the waitress brings over our drinks, trying to draw up some resolve and composure from inside me, but it isn’t coming. All I can do is smile and blush like some love-struck college girl who finally got noticed by the captain of the football team.
“Thank you for the drinks, miss,” Harper says to the waitress, taking out his wallet and plucking a hundred dollar bill from it. “This will be our last round. Hope you have a good evening and a good holiday.”
The waitress takes the bill and thanks him without looking at me. To be fair, I don’t look at her, either. I can’t bring myself to look anywhere but the table and the ceiling.
I’ve never been this turned on in public, and I’m sure everyone around me can tell.
Hecan certainly tell.
“What do you say that after these drinks, we go back to the office. I think I know the answer to that question I wrote to you.”
Clearing my throat and taking a sip of my drink, I nod my head in approval.
“What about your tattoos?” I say. “Tell me about them. That’s why we’re here, aren’t we?”
“Well,” he says, “I was one of the bad kids in high school. You wouldn’t have guessed it, but I spent more time drinking beers in my friends’ basements than doing my homework.”
“You’re right,” I respond. There’s no evidence aside from the tattoos that he’d been anything but a straight-A student his whole life. The devilish smile aside, too. I’d assumed he’d been the star student and the over-achiever. “I wouldn’t have guessed it.”
“So,” he says, “this is the first tattoo I got. It’s an hourglass. I always wanted to leave high school and make my life begin. The passage of time went so slowly back then. I knew there was something more. So this reminded me that it was only a matter of time before I got out of that fucking town and could be on my own.”
“It’s beautiful,” I say, examining the colors and shading work. He flexes his muscle. His arm isn’t half-bad, either.
“You want to lick it, don’t you?” he asks, grabbing my wrist and sending a shockwave right between my legs.
“Um, I’m not in the business of going around and licking people,” I say casually, but inside I’m screaming. Yeah, I want to lick him. Somewhere else, though.
“I’m not, either,” he says. “But that’s not going to stop me from doing it. I don’t make a habit of it. I want you to know that. But you’re just too beautiful to stay away from. And once I make you mine, you’re going to be begging to put your mouth on my body.”
His eyes are hungry as he takes the last sip of his drink and starts to put his coat on.
I’m in deep trouble.
