Page 9 of Skin Deep

“If I remember correctly, I didn’t block your good time.” He handed the bottle back to her, and her skin sizzled when his long fingers brushed against hers. “I made it even better.”

Shit.

“You weren’t here earlier because you want a tattoo,” she blurted out, caught off guard by the punch of unadulterated lust. “I call bullshit.”

“You got me.” The hand that had been holding her beer reached up, loosening the knot of his tie. He followed up the movement by unbuttoning the top two buttons of his dress shirt, and Amy fought back a whimper.

What the hell was it about him? She’d been with men. She’d been with women. She’d had some good sex and some great sex.

So what was it about this particular man? She wanted him now like she’d wanted him five years ago. And she’d never been particularly good at denying herself the things that she wanted.

“Why were you here, then?” She stood up, trying to gain more control over the situation. Since he still had six inches on her, all it did was bring her right into his kinesphere.

It still made her shiver.

“Five years ago, you kept your name a secret from me.” He spoke in slow, measured words, stare on her face. “No matter how much I begged. I think it’s my turn to keep a secret.”

“The difference being that I won’t beg.” Amy heard the breathlessness in her own words, felt promise shiver up her spine as his light green eyes darkened to the color of sea glass. He reached out with one of those massive palms of his, traced a finger along the curve of her jaw.

“I think your memory is failing you.” His finger moved over her chin, up to press against her lips. Her tongue darted out, swiping over it, tasting the salt of his skin. It made need tighten in her core. “I’ve made you beg before. And I promise you, I can make it happen again.”

CHAPTER THREE

AMY SET HER beer down on the bench, then took his hand and led him inside Four Sisters. He sniffed for the spa-like scent he’d detected earlier. The diffuser-type thing still puffed away in the corner, but she’d changed the scent to something smokier. Something that made him think of sex.

Who was he kidding? Just being in the same room as her made him think of sex.

His back was to the door. When she turned back to slide the dead bolt on the door home, her chest brushed against him. He thought of those damn barbells in her nipples and was hard in an instant, a fact he couldn’t have hidden and didn’t want to, the way his pelvis was flush against the flat planes of her stomach.

“Well, well.” Her voice was soft and rough, reminding him of the mountains he’d trekked on the same trip where he’d met her. “Looks like I might not be the one doing the begging after all.”

“To hell with that.” Bending his knees, he cupped the curves of her delectable ass in his hands. She cried out when he lifted her right off her feet. Her legs twined around his waist as he carried her forward through her shop. She groaned, rocking her lithe body against his, and he swore under his breath when he felt her molten core make contact with his rock-solid length.

He carried her past the bamboo room divider, then deposited her in her tattoo chair. It was black leather with a headrest and was already reclined—it couldn’t have been more perfect. She landed on her knees, reaching up for him, tugging on the knot of his tie until it came loose. He let it fall to the floor as she reached for the zipper of his suit pants. His eyes crossed when her nimble fingers brushed against the head of his cock.

“Liked that, did you?” Her voice was a self-satisfied hum as she reached into his trousers and wrapped around his erection. “Jesus.”

“You can call me that any time you want.” He huffed out a breath as she explored his length, working gently up and down.

“I’d say you have a big head.” She circled a thumb over his tip, caught the droplet of moisture beading there. “But is it a big head if it’s justified?”

“Fuck.” He halted his movements for a moment to let her play. Arousal built at the base of his spine as she danced those elegant fingers over his shaft. Finally he could take it no more and moved back, out of her reach.

“You’re playing with fire,” he warned her as he undid the buttons of his work shirt. He felt her avid gaze as he worked it over his wide shoulders, then let it fall to the floor. With her eyes on him, he lowered his pants, his underwear until they were around his hips, then wrapped his own hand around the base of his cock. “Undress for me. Now.”

“Bossy as ever, aren’t you?” Her words were a challenge, but her movements weren’t. Still on her knees, she fisted her hands in the hem of her tank top, then lifted it up and over her head, tossing it across the room. He groaned as her breasts filled his vision, those magnificent, adorned breasts that had haunted both his dreams and his nightmares.

“I want to come on those fantastic tits,” he promised her, running his hand up and then down his erection. Her avid gaze followed the movements as she cupped her own breasts in her hands, squeezing them together.

“Do it.” Her voice was breathless and she climbed from the chair, setting her feet on the floor. In one quick movement, she’d worked her torn jeans down over her hips, all the way down the floor. She stepped out, then stood before him, blissfully naked, her decorated skin open to his gaze.

The piercings through her nipples were something he remembered, but there was a hoop in her navel that was new. He watched her run her hands over her torso, tugged on the barbells, and knew that he wasn’t going to last long. Not when the object of every fantasy he’d had for the past five years was here in front of him, tantalizing him in the flesh.

Without speaking, he closed the space between them. Rather than pushing her down into the chair, he sat down himself. Reaching for her slim waist, he tugged her toward him, arranging her knees on either side of his.

“Next time,” he promised as he lay back, tugging her astride him until she balanced on her knees, which rested on either side of his hips. “Right now I need you to ride me. Ride my cock until you scream.”

She gasped, fire sparking in her blue eyes. Sliding up his body, she took him in her hand, then pressed the head of his arousal against her wet slit. She was wet and hot and he couldn’t help himself—he arched his hips upward, his swollen head working its way inside her far enough to make her gasp at the intrusion.

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