Page 73 of The First Spark

Holy shit, did he just announce that fact in front of Mina and the entire crowd gathered to watch him lay down ink?

And why do I love that concept so much?

I lift my hand, gliding one finger down the center of his chest. If he wants to play, we’ll play. “Maybe you got lucky.”

He grasps my finger, halting any further movement. “Maybe I’ll get lucky again.”

His voice rolls over me, setting every cell in my body on fire. Suddenly, words fail me as a flush climbs my cheeks.

Damn, but that sounds delightful.

“Although,” Ash begins, shooting me a rueful smile as he rubs his jaw, “there is a change of plans later. Some friends surprised our shop with a catered party after the festival wraps.”

So much for late night delights.

I wonder if his client, aka the inked goddess, is behind his itinerary change.

Still, I refuse to let on that it bothers me—much.

I force a smile and shrug. “Maybe you’ll get lucky elsewhere, then. Maybe webothwill. The night is young.”

Yes, it’s a cocky aside, but I’ve learned this is exactly how to handle men with egos the size of Asher Hammond’s.

A gentle reminder that although he may possess a remarkably talented cock, he’s not the only cock in town. Besides, he’s partying with a bevy of women willing to do anything, and I meananything, for a second of his attention.

It’s not like he’s missing out on opportunities tonight.

A fact I loathe more and more every second.

“Wait, a damn minute.” Ash grabs my arm, sliding his hand down to grasp my fingers. “Um … why don’t you come along? You’ll have a good time. I guarantee it.”

He shifts his weight and clears his throat, before averting his gaze to the far wall.

Oh, I know that maneuver well. It’s one I’ve perfected over the years.

Asher Hammond, are you embarrassed? And … did you just ask me out?

After getting shot down twice by the man, I’m playing it safe. “Always a possibility.”

I realize, a second too late, that I just used Ash’s blow-off line against him.

A fact which is not lost on the man.

A scoff flies from his mouth. “I really don’t like that response.”

Time to turn the tables. I offer a slight shrug, knowing it will only further irk him. “Neither did I.”

Ash leans in, his eyes darkening. “How about you try a different one? A better one.”

My heart races in my chest, but I’m determined to play it cool. The less interested I appear, the more desperate he grows.

I like this version of the game.

I glance up at him, dragging my tongue along my lower lip. “Maybe? Is that good enough for you?”

“Not really.”

Before I can kick off another sassy retort, Ash grabs me round the waist and hauls me into a small room off the main parlor floor.

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