Page 111 of Full Tilt
There’s no fanfare. No hesitation. Just lips meeting lips with the kind of ache that comes from too much distance and not enough time. His hand slides to the back of my neck, anchoring me to him as he deepens it—tongue sliding along mine, teeth grazing my lower lip just enough to make my knees threaten to give.
“Christ,” he breathes when we part. “You taste like airport coffee.”
“Still gonna make out with me?”
“Obviously.”
We’re both grinning now, and something settles in my chest—heavy in a good way. Like a weight I’ve been carrying has finally been set down.
Brent pulls me fully into the room, closing the door behind me with a quiet click. “You serious about that tattoo session? Or was this whole thing just an excuse to ambush me?”
“Why not both?” I stretch my arms overhead and drop into the client chair. “But yeah. If you’re game. I’ve got time today.”
Brent circles me, slow and considering. “I’ve got some time in a couple of hours. I’ve an appointment due.”
I shoot him a shit-eating grin. “Make that now since I’m your next booking.” I arch my brow, totally pleased with myself.
He snorts out a laugh. “Christy set that up? You’re Brian?”
I nod, watching him like I haven’t had a proper drink in days. “Maybe. I can be charming when I need to be.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
“So, this sleeve we’ve been hashing out…,” I begin, letting my voice trail off just enough to watch the way Brent’s eyes flick up from my arm to my face. His lips twitch, and that damn lip ring catches the light like it knows it’s a weapon.
He leans in slightly, fingers brushing my forearm with a featherlight touch. “You mean the one that brought you striding into my shop, all growl and business, working out if I was good enough?”
“You being good enough was never an issue,” I retort, not even trying to hide my grin.
“Mm-hmm.” He tilts his head, sketchbook still in one hand. “You were already plotting how to get in my pants.”
“Debatable,” I say, though I’m fully grinning now. “But not inaccurate.”
Brent sets his sketchbook down and moves between my knees, resting his palms on my thighs. The look he gives me ispure mischief with a dash of fondness that tightens something warm in my chest.
“Then let’s make this full circle, Captain,” he says. “Shirt off. Let me see what I’ve got to work with.”
The way his voice dips on that last word shouldn’t be legal. My breath catches despite myself, and I huff out a laugh as I strip off my tee and toss it onto the nearby chair. I sit up straighter under his gaze, chest bare, muscles already reacting to the attention.
He drops his gaze, sweeping over my right arm—the completed piece he didn’t ink—and then to the blank canvas of my left shoulder and bicep. His fingers skim my skin, mapping the areas we’ve talked about. There’s reverence in the way he touches me now, not just as an artist or a lover, but as someone who knows what this means to me.
“I’ve been thinking about starting up near your collarbone,” he murmurs, voice suddenly all focus. “Using that shoulder swell to anchor the first visual weight. Flowing around the deltoid, echoing the structure of the other side without being a copy. Balance without mirroring.”
God, he’s sexy when he talks shop.
I nod, swallowing. “Sounds good.”
“I’m still not completely sure about the final transitions past your elbow, but we’ll talk about it, and I’ll sketch it out later this week,” he says, thumb brushing along the top of my pec absently, like he doesn’t even realise he’s touching me. “But I’ve got the outlines ready. If we start today, we can rough in the core flow and get the stencil down.”
“You always this smooth when you seduce your clients?” I ask, voice gruffer than I mean it to be.
Brent smirks, stepping back. “Only the ones I’m dating. And love stupidly much.”
My chest pulls tight, heat washing through me in a way that’s got nothing to do with the temperature of the shop.
“Lucky me,” I manage.
“Luck had nothing to do with it,” he says, already turning towards his station. “You barged into my shop with forearms like artillery and the grumpiest goddamn frown I’ve ever seen. I was doomed from day one.”
