Page 41 of No Apologies
She huffed behind him, “It’s gonna be like that?”
“Yeah, it’s gonna be like that. This is my business, Skylar. You like it when your customers come walking in late to their appointments and throw your schedule off?”
“No. You’re right.” Her perky voice dropped and she sighed, “Sorry I’m late. Let’s get started.”
He was a bastard for ruining her good mood. He hated himself for it. Still, he marveled at her ability to apologize on the spot like that. She’d been wrong and she’d admitted it, immediately. No hedging or making excuses. If it had ever been that easy for him, he didn’t remember it.
He was a Bomar so the lying and fighting came naturally. Honesty didn’t. Maybe that was why he found that part of Skylar so alluring. She didn’t hide anything about herself. And hell, who was he kidding, certainly not himself, he found every part of her sexy as hell.
Only once he was certain he had himself under control did he turn back to face her, “You sure you want to do this today?”
When she didn’t speak up, he let his gaze find hers. Blue eyes clashing, he saw a hundred things there he didn’t want to see. She didn’t hide anything from him. All of her conflicting emotions matched his own. He glanced away when she gave a short nod and he forced himself to focus on his work.
The tattoo was the important part right now. It was the thing he could control. It was the thing he was good at. He would have to focus because he refused to put anything but perfection on the body he adored. It would be perfect and that meant his hands had to be steady. His breathing and his mind would just have to fall in line.
“I went ahead and drew it out on the transfer. You can take a look if you want, make sure it matches what I gave you yesterday or make any changes.”
“No need. I trust you.” Skylar shook her head.
He forced a calming breath and nodded, “Okay then, let’s get started. Pull your dress up and show me where you want it. Right leg or left?”
Skylar scrunched the material beneath her fists and edged it up, “It’s up to you.”
“No. It’s your body. It’s your tattoo. Make the decision. Now.”
She frowned at him when he snapped at her but he never looked up. He didn’t have to. He knew her well enough to know she was glaring at him. He kept his gaze on the scrap of fabric that revealed more and more of her smooth skin. He couldn’t have looked away if someone had busted into the shop screaming fire at that exact moment.
“Left leg.” Her voice was soft, barely a whisper, “It’s the same side as the shoulder piece and it’ll look like a set with the lace and roses. Is that how you imagined it?”
“Yeah.” He choked out.
“Is this high enough?”
It was an innocent question but he had to bite his tongue and simply nod. He didn’t trust himself to speak again right now. His voice was going to give him away. He couldn’t keep the raging desire under control if he kept talking to her as she all but flashed him with a scrap of barely there, white lace panties.
Thank God she was wearing panties.
Without another word, he set to work. He forced himself to go somewhere else in his mind. He didn’t look up at her. If he didn’t look at her, he might be able to convince himself that it wasn’t Skylar in his chair. It was just another client, any client. He might be able to get through this without completely losing his goddamned mind if he could distance himself from her.
But it was useless and he knew it the moment he touched the first needle to her skin. It wasn’t just his hands on her body that did it. The feel of her smooth skin under his rough fingertips. It went so far beyond that. The electrical charge that lit the air between them had sparked the moment she walked in the door but it went up in flames when he put the needle on her.
Skylar moaned with every prick of the needle and he had to grit his teeth and take a deep breath as a dozen dirty images roared to life inside of him. Her legs were spread. Only a scrap of material separated him from her warm, wet heat. And she was reacting as though the longer he worked the closer she soared towards the edge.
He’d known this would happen. It always happened. But what could he do? Tell her no, that he couldn’t tattoo her anymore? Fuck that. She’d go elsewhere and nobody else was going to get the pleasure of marking her body but him. Nobody else should ever get the pleasure of seeing her react like this but him.
Colt continued his work, gritting his teeth, trying not to look at her. He knew if he did, it would all be over. If he looked up and saw her beautiful face clouded with pleasure, he’d break. He felt like glass that was barely holding against the pressure. Cracks were forming with each line he put on her skin, each moan and sigh, and if he looked at her he would shatter.
Every time she came in for a tattoo, he held his breath. Every time he secretly hoped that she wouldn’t react all the while praying that she would. Every time her reactions only made him want her more, made a little more of his restraint crumble. Every tattoo, every needle against her skin, brought them closer and this one, this special, intimate tattoo that was, in a way, his apology for pushing her away threatened that he might never be able to push her away again.
He wiped away the excess after finishing the outline and leaned forward to get a better look. It was a mistake. He knew it the second he did it. Because as soon as his cool breath hit her heated skin, Skylar let out a loud moan and arched up into his touch.
He glanced up and his hands automatically tightened on her. Just as he’d suspected, the sight of her like this sent him tumbling over the edge. She was so beautiful but like this, it was painful to look at her. Her lips were swollen from where she’d been biting into them and a flush of pink colored her cheeks. She looked like she was about to tumble right off the cliff with him.
He had to force himself to speak and even so, it sounded strangled, “Skylar?”
“Hmm?” She didn’t open her eyes but the warmth of pleasure in her voice made his raging erection twitch in his pants.
“You gotta be still angel.”
