Page 21 of The Tattoo Artist

Ares slowly zips down the jacket he had lent me, and my heart flutters at the closeness between us. His fingertips brushes against my abdomen before reaching the lower dip between my breasts. I caught my breath, feeling the electric charge in the air. His gaze locks with mine, his eyes holding a mixture of desire and mischief.

“A butterfly would look nice here, and here...” he murmurs, trailing his hands to the sides of my waist. My heart pounded as he continues, “a snake...” He touched the other side of my waist, and I couldn’t help but feel the intensity of his touch. “A spider.”

My breath hitched as he touched underneath my left breast.

“Writing,” he said, his voice low and suggestive.

My heart races, and it felt as if a test was unfolding between us.

“And here...” his finger trails along my skin.

Until he reaches the middle of my neck.

“Another butterfly.”

“What’s your obsession with butterflies?” I push his hand out the way, trying my hardest to not jump on him and do the unimaginable. “You call me butterfly; you tattoo butterflies all over yourself and everywhere I turn- all I see is butterflies in your store.”

“You don’t like butterflies?” He asks me.

“I do-stop trying to find a way out of answering my questions. You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“You’re doing it again!” I groan, but he smirks.

“Someone is getting flustered.” He whispers out.

I push him gently, “no I’m not!”

“You’re adorable when you’re flustered, you know that?” His tone is teasing, but there’s an underlying warmth that softens the jest.

Before anything more could transpire between us, the bus came to a halt, and I quickly step inside, with Ares following closely behind. The bus is packed, and we found ourselves in a corner, pressed against each other. I couldn’t reach the handles on the ceiling to maintain my balance, Ares grabbed one, looking effortlessly composed.

As the bus hit a bump, I struggle to keep my balance, but Ares reacted instantly, wrapping his strong arm around my waist, and pulling me into the safety of his body.

“We could have just taken my car, butterfly.” He whispers into my ear, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. I smiled, feeling a mixture of nervousness and exhilaration as I lifted my head, accidentally brushing our noses together. Never had I been this close to a man before, and the feeling was weird. Ares seemed like the first chapter in a whole new book, one that you can’t skip. And one that I don’t want to skip.

He is looking at me as if trying to decipher the depths of my soul, as if he wanted to know every intricate detail of my story. Little did he know that my life was as bland as an empty page, with no exciting stories to tell. But being with Ares made me feel like my story had just begun, like there was so much more to explore and discover.

I knew my stop was approaching, so I press the buzzer.

The bus gradually came to a halt, and Ares releases his hold on me as we stepped outside.

“I’ll walk you home,” he offers, his eyes searching mine.

“No need,” I replied, trying to hide my fluttering emotions. “I live just down the road anyways.” I slide his jacket off, handing it to him. I hesitate before asking. “But I’d like for us to be friends, if you want to.”

A mischievous smile dance on his lips, and he chuckles softly. “Oh Alexandra, I don’t think we can be just friends.”

My heart sank at his words, fearing I had done something wrong. “And why is that?”

He leans in closer.

“Because I can’t cross the line of wanting you underneath me if I’m just your friend. So, no, we’re not going to be friends.”

My breath caught in my throat as I absorbed his words. The raw honesty in his confession sent shivers down my spine. His masculine scent enveloped me, leaving me intoxicated and craving more.

He wanted me.

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