Page 14 of Ink & Desire

She eyes me for a moment, concern etched on her face. “You sure you’re okay?”

I nod, forcing a smile. “Just a headache,” I lie. “It’s too loud in here.”

She laughs. “If it’s too loud, you’retoo old.”

I roll my eyes with a smile as I turn to go. Henley is six years younger than I am, so she’s been teasing me about being old for what seems like forever. Not that I think 35 is old. I can’t wait until she turns 30 so I can fuck with her about it like she did with me. Not that our insults ever hold much heat. She’s the only family I have. I’d do anything for her, and I know she feels the same about me. So, no matter how much we tease one another, we don’t really mean it. But it doesn’t stop us from giving each other shit as often as possible.

I make my way toward the exit, ignoring the way I seem to feel eyes on me as I go. I fight the urge to look toward the corner and see if a certain naughty angel is watching me leave. I tell myself it doesn’t matter. I don’t care if she’s watching me. But I know the real reason I don’t dare look in that direction. Because if I were to look over and see Avery’s eyes on me, I’d throw my principles out the window and drag her out of here with me to do something we’d both regret tomorrow. And that kind of entanglement is the last thing I need right now. I’ve outgrown those wild nights. So, I keep my gaze locked on the exit until I’m outside in the humid summer air.

Chapter 8

Avery

What the hell was that?

I stand frozen for several seconds after Corbin walks away, watching the broad set of his shoulders as he goes. My heart is pounding louder than the bass from the speakers, and I can’t seem to slow my breathing to a normal rhythm.What the hell was that?Why had I just stood there and let him put his hands on me? Why hadn’t I pushed him off me? My hand goes up to myneck as if I can still feel his fingers there. I can’t, of course. His hold on my neck, though I seemed to feel it all the way to my toes, had been light enough to not leave marks.

His hold on my hip, however? That had been almost bruising in its strength. I try to ignore the shiver of excitement I feel at the memory of his fingers digging into my flesh. Part of me hopes I’ll see marks on my hip tomorrow in the shape of his fingers. What does it say about me that the idea of him marking me excites me? I don’t even know him. He’s practically a stranger, and I’d let him put his hands all over me. Let? Hell, I’d welcomed it. I enjoyed it. Practically begged for it. Just like he’d said I would.

I finally force myself to move so I can take a seat on one of the chairs. I take several deep breaths and try to calm my racing thoughts. The interaction with Corbin had lasted for less than the length of a song, but it had been enough to alter my brain chemistry. I don’t even know how it happened. One second, he was being an asshole to me; the next, he was saving me from falling. His arms around me, my chest pressed to his. Feeling his large body holding mine for that split second had been the most delicious mix of heavenly torture. I’d wanted him, right then and there. And he knew it.

I remember the way he’d pressed his hard erection against my belly. He might have been in control of the situation, but he was far from unaffected by me. That thought sends a flash of feminine pride through me that I’d managed to make someone like Corbin James wantme, even if it was against his will. Because surely it was. He clearly doesn’t like me. That much is obvious. He’d seemed angry at my mere presence. But he’d also been aroused. The thought makes me clench my thighs together. I know I should be embarrassed by my body’s reaction to a man I just met today. One that I’m not even sure I like, by the way. But I’m not. I’m just turned on. I can feel the dampness of my panties as I sit here in this club. It’s shocking, but I’m not ashamed. At least, I don’t think I am.

I’ve never been into rough sex or being controlled by a man. Not that I have much experience in that department. I’ve never given it much thought until now. But there was something about the way Corbin had gripped my neck in his large hand. I’d been totally at his mercy, and we both knew it. He could have done all sorts of wicked things to my body, and I wouldn’t have been able to stop him. But he hadn’t. I get the feeling that if I’d pushed him away, he would have released me. A man like him wouldn’t like to take something that wasn’t freely given. I don’t know what makes me think that, but he strikes me as the kind of man who gets off on making his partner submit. If that impressive erection was any indication, he also enjoys a woman who doesn’t submit easily.

I look up and my eyes are immediately drawn to his large form as he walks toward the exit. I tell myself to look away, to stop staring before he turns and sees me doing it. Part of me wants him to. Part of me wants tosee that barely leashed fire in his eyes, even from across the crowded club. I wonder what would happen if he ever really let go. I wonder if I could even handle something like that. I’m no virgin, but something tells me that the guys I’ve been with in the past were tame compared to Corbin. Heat coils low in my belly and settles between my thighs as I watch him go. There’s a tension in the set of his shoulders and I can’t help but wonder if he feels my gaze on his back. If he does, he gives no indication. He keeps his focus on the exit. Disappointment wars with relief as I watch him leave the club without a glance in my direction.

I sit there for a few more minutes, trying not to think about Corbin and how hot he looked tonight. His shirt sleeves rolled up, showing off the corded muscles of his tattooed forearms. His dark eyes had flashed dangerously at me in the dim club lighting as he’d stood so close to me. Everything about him, from his dark, messy hair to his wicked grin and his filthy mouth, screams ‘bad idea’. But I can’t seem to convince my body of that message. For some reason, it and my brain don’t seem to be on the same wavelength. It’s too bad. Because something tells me that a night with Corbin James would be worth the fallout.

Chapter 9

Avery

The next morning is rough for me. Though it seems to be rougher on my best friend. I wake up groggy with a dull pounding at the base of my skull. But Cass looks like she got hit by a truck when she finally makes her way to the kitchen sometime before noon.

“Kill me now,” she mutters, reaching for the glass of water I hand her.

I do my best not to laugh as I drop some ibuprofen into her palm.

“That’s why I stopped taking the free drinks,” I say. “As your lawyer, I’m going to have to suggest you follow my advice next time.”

She swallows the pills and bends down to rest her head on the table. “No next time. Never again.”

This time I do laugh. “I’ve heard that before.”

Her voice is muffled by the fact that she’s got her face buried in her folded arms, but I can make out what she’s saying.

“I mean it this time.”

I take pity on her and give her hair a gentle stroke. “You want me to make you some toast?”

Cass tilts her head just enough so one eye peeks out. “Yes, please.”

Her voice is pitiful and pleading. I manage to stifle my laugh, but I can’t quite keep the amused smile off my face. Standing, I pop some bread into the toaster and grab the butter from the fridge. Turning to lean back against the counter while I wait for her toast, I eye her back.

“Just how much fun did you have last night?” I ask her.

“Not as much as I could have,” comes her muffled response.

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