Page 27 of Jaz
“Freedom.”
“Music note? Self explanatory, I guess.” Her fingers moved to his side. “Is this …?”
Another breath shuddered through him. She was stroking the rainbow of intertwining colors. “Crayons. Yes. Love color. Tattoos.”
“I love it all, Jaz. And the design at base of your back that travels?”
“Tribal.” It did travel and she traced every inch she could reach without him turning around.
“Who did your ink?”
“The man who taught me. I met him when I was inside. He used to come with Jackie sometimes when she’d visit me. We talked quite a bit and he told me to look him up when I got out. I did. When I wasn’t working atKatz, I was in the shop, learning. I could always draw, always create, and it kind of gave me a way to focus that. He was in a motorcycle accident and died a few years back. He left me his part of the shop. His partner didn’t want to keep the business after that. When I couldn’t afford to buy him out on my own, Vinter and Dallon stepped in and bought that half.”
“Good friends.”
“The best. The cross of skulls is for him.”
She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head against his back. He covered her hands with his then slid them back and grabbed hold of her hips, pulling her as flush as he could get her. The feel of her warmth, her softness, her … Just her made him ache. She made him hard, but at the same time, he wanted to curl into her softness. He wanted to smother her with affection, attention, love.
She brought out all the naughty lust along with all his need to care for someone.
“I like your tattoos.”
“Damn good thing ’cause they aren’t coming off.”
“Mmm. I like the one that goes down your hip to your knee. The roller coaster. I’d like to lick that one.”
Jaz groaned. The pain between his legs was close to unbearable. His balls were no doubt shades of purple by now, and though she hadn’t meant to turn him on—or maybe she had. Hell, it didn’t matter. He was hard and hurting and wanted to be so deep inside her …
“You ready to go?” How he managed to get those words to come out sounding normal, he’d never know.
“Yeah. Let me grab my purse. Where are we going? I hope what I’m wearing is okay.”
He looked over his shoulder and watched her move around the room. She turned on a lamp, picked up her small purse from the table, checked her make-up … Everything about her was, “Perfect.”
She flashed him a smile so beautiful that more than his cock and balls were feeling the pain of torture.
“Okay then, let’s go. I’m starving.”
So was he.
