Page 78 of Dare You to Run
One of her arms breaks free from its constraints and she fists the sheets in her hand, searching for purchase. I don’t know what it is about her that makes me want to taste every inch of her, but I can’t help myself and end up with my teeth digging into her shoulder.
The act rips a scream from her mouth. One of ecstasy and agony, and she quakes with another orgasm. It isn’t long before I follow her over, howling in rapture. I drop the makeshift cuffs and sink my hands into the mattress, barely able to hold myself up.
My eyes examine Dagen’s tarnished skin. Red welts on her ass, angry rings around her wrists, and the imprint of my teeth on her shoulder.
“Shit, baby. I’m so sorry.” I map the marks that add to the fading lines from the tree. “I don’t know what comes over me. I feel actual hunger when I fuck you.”
She gasps for air and musters up what little energy she has to turn her head. “I didn’t feel anything. At least I don’t remember.”
“It’s like I need you to live. I’m afraid if I don’t have you…I’ll die.”
Languidly, she rolls over and reaches up to touch my face. “I know the feeling.”
My fierce starvation fades and my burning need for her takes over. I lean down and kiss her like I’ve never kissed another woman.
And probably never will again.
“I want to do something crazy. Wanna come with?”
I throw her a side eye as we walk down the sidewalk towards a row of shops and restaurants. “It depends on what it is.”
She freezes in her tracks, jerking my arm back when she does. “Hendrix Dare is skeptical of a spontaneous outing? Is it the old age catching up with you?”
Our hands are laced together –another thing I never thought I’d do with anyone– and I tug her to me. She yelps and wraps her hands around my biceps.
“I’ll show you old when I paint your back porch red.” Her hands slide up my shoulder and she twines her fingers behind my neck.
Lifting to her toes, she whispers, “Careful, Mr. Wolf. Don’t want you throwing out your back trying to punish me,” then kisses my lips.
I let my hands fall to her ass and I squeeze, digging my fingers in with a pinch. “What is this crazy thing you want to do, little mouse?”
Like the Joker, a wicked gleam spreads. “Follow me.”
She drops back down and pulls me down the street until we stop in front of a shop that readsStitchedon the windows and doors. At first I think it’s some kind of clothing store, but a closer look tells me it’s a tattoo parlor.
Leather chairs, the buzzing of guns, hard rock music. All telltale signs of people getting inked.
“Dagen.” I turn to face her to study her face. “Are you sure about this? This is permanent, you know.”
“What?” she gasps, slapping her hands on her cheeks. “You mean I can’t wash it off when I’m done.”
She smirks and I pinch her nose. “Okay smartass. You want a tattoo, let’s get you one.”
I pull open the door and escort her in. The men immediately greet us, but a couple let their eyes linger on Dagen in her denimshorts and tank top a bit too long. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I glue her to my side, making sure to send that loud and clear message that she’s mine.
“Hey. How are you?” A beautiful woman stands behind the counter, her skin fair next to her dark brown hair, making her green eyes pop.
Her features resemble my Dagen, but nothing or no one can compare to my girl.
“Hi. I want to get a tattoo. Are any artists available?” Dagen hops on her toes, excited to endure a little bit of pain for a permanent memory.
“Yo Oxy!” she shouts and one of the men who was licking his lips looks our way. “You free?”
“A tattoo?” he asks, and the woman nods. “Absolutely.”
The woman behind the counter asks Dagen some questions, passes her papers to fill out, then takes her ID and makes a copy of it. After five minutes, she escorts us over to his station and I sit down facing his chair just out of the immediate area. I’m close enough to see and hear them, but not enough to witness the lines as they are scribbled into her skin.
Dagen sits down and begins telling him what she is wanting. Her voice is too low to hear and I have a suspicion it’s on purpose. She then looks down at her chest and runs a finger in the valley of her breasts.
