Page 12 of Mine for 24 Hella-Hours
“A little about your work.”
He mulls my answers in his head. The silver ring piercing his straight-nose glints under the streetlamp behind us.
“I’ll make you a deal.” He finally says.
“What kind of a deal?”
“One where you might get the upper hand.”
I try to read his face for any source of deception but for once in my life—I can’t find any. He intrigues me. My high pulse hasn’t slowed yet. And a part of me gravitates toward him.
“Go on.”
The curl playing at his mouth tugs up higher as each minute slips by. “Have you seen my work?”
I nod in confirmation.
“What do you think?”
“You’re a talented artist.” Where is he going with this interrogation?
“Thank you. Let me tattoo you with a design of my choosing.” Fishing in his front pants pocket, he pulls out a marker, grabs me by the wrist gently, and writes on my palm,yours for 24 hours.
I try to clear my throat silently all while basking in the feel of his warm hands. “Do you always carry a pen in case you offer a deal to a stranger?” That note makes his rich laugh fill the air.
“I drew a sketch today and I forgot to put it back. Happens often.”
Losing my words is something I’m not accustomed to. I’m always sharp and ready to fire back.
“I’ll be yours for twenty-four hours to do as you please.”
“Whatever I want,” the smile on my face rises to every feral beat of my heart while listening to the sound of the most thrilling idea.
Luka is a well-known artist. One of the best around here. His work speaks for itself. He’s a god when it comes to inking human canvas. Or the devil depending on which way you look at it.
I know it will look beautiful; whatever he may draw. And maybe a part of me wants him to rail me up and ravage my pussy. If he’s good like he says he is.
The thickness of his eyelashes fan over his flaming dark eyes. The heave of his chest. The feather movement of the muscle in his jaw tells me all I need to know.
He wants me to say yes. He wants me. And maybe I want him too.
What’s the harm, right?
“How do I know it’s not a fake one?” I raise the hand holding his license. I ask mostly to tease him yet I wonder what his next answer is going to be.
A faint sound comes from deep in his throat almost like a choked laugh. He bites his lip and brushes his fingers through his hair, making a few locks fall over his forehead.
“Guess you’re going to have to trust me on this one.” He gives me a soft smile and a challenging gaze that pleads for me to accept his offer. And it might be a bad idea. The worst in forever but I don’t care. I feel the need to do something crazy for a change and this is my chance.
I snap a picture through my message app because I’m not stupid. I won’t die tonight without taking the fucker down with me from the grave. I hit send and immediately receive a reply.
Sophie: Who is that? He’s hot!
I don’t answer her back because the info is right there and I don’t know much more either. What I do know is the wrath of one person who will rain hell on anyone who hurts me is Sophie.
I snap a shot of him as well with my flash on, he notices and smiles widely at the camera, and then I hit send again.
“Covering all bases. I dig that.” The apparent amusement in his voice does nothing to my confident stance. He seems to like it which piques my curiosity.
