Page 30 of Savage Hate
“Nope,” I cut him off. “Just get it over with.” My skin tingles, awareness spreading everywhere as I realize he must still be watching me. I peek between my lashes. He’s frowning again, this time looking grumpy and perplexed at the same time. “Silas.”
My voice wakes him from his stupor because he scowls down at me. “This might hurt,” is all he says, and after I close my eyes fully, he unbuttons my shorts, exposing my purple underwear. Another shiver works down my spine at his touch. His gloved fingers snag my skin, but I can feel the warmth of his flesh through the material. I inhale deeply as he moves the fabric down my hips, and with each tug, something unexpected happens to my core–and the spot between my legs.
Well, princess, you’re not really my type…
I ignore the way I’m disappointed that he said that. It doesn’t matter. I’m not interested, so why should I care if he isn’t?
He rubs my hip bone for several seconds, the cold antibacterial wipe causing goosebumps to erupt everywhere. And then he blows cool air on that sensitive, wet part of me, and I nearly jump out of my seat.
“Whoa, there,” he purrs, and I ignore it.All of it.
The way his voice is low and velvety, the smell of his skin and the rubber of the gloves, the way his fingers keep brushing that part of my lower abdomen–and the way that I can hear him breathing.
“Buckle up,” he warns quietly, and I hiss as the needle hits my skin.
“Ow,” I whine, and Damon and Jude chuckle in the background. “Oh, you’re one to talk, Jude,” I mutter, and I hear Damon cover his laugh with a cough. “Let’s see all of your tattoos,” I add, feeling very high and mighty.
“Oh, I have tattoos, Lennon,” he utters, his voice sounding sensuous. “If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll let you see them up close.”
I squeeze my legs together, and somehow, I’m imagining his… thing. He has tattoos down… there? What are they? Why there? What do they look like?
Silas is gentle enough as he works. The burning sensation of the needle gives way to a tickling one, and I grind my jaw to keep from making any noises. Several minutes pass, and I see him pick up a few different colors. Each time he starts again, each time he inks me after taking a small break, my whole body shivers ever so slightly. It feels like my skin is on fire in the best way possible. I squirm in my chair, trying to get rid of the tension building up. I want to scream, and it’s starting to feel really good.
“Nearly done,” Silas tells me, and in some sick, twisted way, I am disappointed with that fact. “You did well,” he adds lightly, and I hear him turn the gun off. I open my eyes, squinting at the brightness of the light above us.
“It looks so much more painful in the movies,” I comment, my hands shaking with adrenaline. I feel like I could run a thousand miles. “That was… incredible.”
I can’t stop smiling as Silas dabs my sore hip bone a few times. I see him wipe it down once more, and then he picks up some antibiotic ointment. I try not to moan as his fingers lightly dab the sore area.Why am I having this reaction?It’s almost like I’m… turned on. He opens a bandage and places it over the ink. I assume he chose a horrendous font, and I have zero desire to actually see it, so I let him cover it up without looking.
“Keep this on for twelve hours,” he says as he moves my chair to a seated position. “After twelve hours, wash with antibacterial soap three times a day, and follow up with fragrance-free lotion.” He furrows his brows. “And do not pick at it when it scabs over.”
I nod, trying to remember the same instructionsI’vebeen telling clients with this unexpected rush of excitement flowing through me. “Okay, sure.” I look down at the bandage. “Is it… horrible?”
He snaps his gloves off and discards them, crossing his arms. I ignore the way it pushes his muscles up and out, or the way his ink looks against his black t-shirt, contrasting with his golden skin.
“It’s exactly what I would’ve chosen for you.”
I digest his words for a few seconds, and his eyes don’t leave mine. “Oh… so, that bad, huh?”
He smirks. “Just be patient and don’t peek until tomorrow.”
I nod and stand, suddenly feeling slightly woozy. Silas reaches a hand out and helps me balance myself.
“The adrenaline will trick you,” he murmurs, low enough for only me to hear. “It’ll make you want to run and scream and fuck, all at the same time.”
Lord, the way he saysfuck–
“Emphasis on the fucking,” he adds, and I swallow as my heart thumps against my ribs. My breath catches, and my lips part slightly as he leans in. “That’s why you can barely stand.”
I take a step away and nod once, completely thrown off by his closeness, delicately pulling my shorts back up and buttoning them. “It’s a good thing I’m not your type, then.”
He gives me a look of confusion, but then realization hits, and I can see him about to explain himself. So, I speak before he can.
“I should go.” I turn on my heel too quickly, stumbling a step, then walk toward the desk with determination to get out of here.
My hip aches now, and seemingly out of nowhere, I feel really stupid for going through with this. I grab my purse and head to the door.What was I thinking?I just let Silas Huxley tattoo me. It probably sayswhoreinstead ofbully, or something far worse. My throat seems to be closing with my nerves, so I wave goodbye without another word before pushing the door open.
Gulping the refreshing summer night air, I turn right and push the door to my stairs open.
