Page 65 of The Devil's Tattoo

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“Mine,” I said as hepulledaway.

With a smirk, he let his lips trail along my flushed cheek, steppingintome.

“What do I keep telling you guys about public places?” Dee exclaimed, pretending to stick his fingers down histhroat.

With a laugh, I downed the rest of my drink and murmured into Will’s ear, “Wanna blow this popcornstand?”

He grinned wickedly at me and replied, “Thought you’dneverask.”

* * *

We were stayingin a motel at the edge of town near thehighway.

It wasn’t the Ritz, and it smelled a little of old mothballs, but it was nice enough for a night. We had a separate room with a queen bed, which was just two king-sized singles pushed together, and a lovely floral doona that matched the curtains, a tiny bathroom, and the stock standard electric kettle with the cheap no-nameteabags.

As the door closed behind him, Will sighed, sliding his thumbs into the belt loops of my jeans. “Alone at last,” he murmured, tugging metowardhim.

My arms snaked aroundhisneck.

“That was a great gig tonight,” hemurmured.

“It was okay,” I said, lying through my teeth. It had been anamazinggig.

“Onlyokay?”

“Well, I can think of betterthings.”

“Like what?” His lips brushed against mine,teasing.

“This is upthere.”

“Really?”

He walked me backward until my back hit the wall, and his lips crashed into mine. His hard-on pressed into my stomach and the going slow business we’d talked about the other night seemed insane. It took more strength to stop than it did to keep going, and after witnessing him brush off that girl for me, I really wanted to keepgoing.

Will buried his hands in my hair, holding me steady as he kissed me with such consuming passion I let out a deep moan into his mouth. I wanted all ofhim.Now.

He pulled back, gazing into my eyes, breathing heavily. “God, Zoe. You set meonfire.”

I didn’t reply. Instead, I pushed up his T-shirt, wanting to feelhisskin.

“I thought you wanted to take it slow?” heasked.

I shook my head, biting mylowerlip.

His jaw tensed, and I knew he was struggling with what to do next. He was afraid of pushing me after that day we’d spent at the pool. “Areyousure?”

“Yes.”

It was all he needed to hear. He pressed against me, pushing the length of my body against the wall, and ran a hand up my neck and into my hair, his lips hard againstmyjaw.

“Take it off,” I ordered, pulling at his T-shirt.

Without pausing, he grabbed the back of it, pulling the annoying material over his head and messing up his hair. How could we go slow when he was just as turned on as I was? I could feel the evidence pressing into me through his jeans, and I moved against him, receiving a deep moan for myeffort.

I ran a hand up his chest and traced the edges of the tattoo that was etched there, sliding a thumb around his nipple. When he drew in a sharp breath, I bit my bottom lip, arching myselfforward.

He undid each button of my shirt slowly, climbing steadily until he reached the top, and the material parted, exposing my skin underneath. Easing it from my shoulders, it dropped to the floor, his fingers skimming the straps of the black pinstriped bra I’d decided to wear that day and knocked one from myshoulder.