Page 60 of Under the Ink

But when Andy gave a chin nod back, his eyes as dark as coal, his face like cold stone, Sage realized he’d probably seen them kissing in the corner.

It didn’t matter. Naomi had already let Andy know in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t interested. So who she spent time with wasn’t his concern.

Still…Sage understood the feeling of heartache and rejection—of being the guy the girl didn’t want. So, in that regard, he felt like an asshole.

Youdeservethe girl, his heart told him.You fuckingwantthis girl, his dick said.

Which meant his concern wasn’t about Andy.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t glad to get out of that stuffy room with the low-key babble going on, music playing softly underneath it all. Entering the hallway felt freeing in so many ways, and he squeezed Naomi’s hand in affirmation.

Dumb move. Just that action helped her remember that they were in public—and he was touching her. Although she didn’t yank her hand from his, she did remove it, holding the bottle of brandy with both hands as they headed toward the elevator.

Quietly, she asked, “Can I have this out in the open—or will they take it?”

“You should be fine,” he said, punching the button to the fourth floor where his room was. “As long as we’re not acting drunk and disorderly.”

She actually smiled. “I haven’t had nearly enough for that.”

Sage grinned back at her and reminded himself that, removing her hand or not, she wasn’t running. All was good, he thought, trying to reassure himself.

Where the fuck was that goddamned swagger he’d worked on perfecting all these years?

It was gone…replaced by something that felt too sappy, too sweet. Something this woman wouldn’t appreciate even if he’d confessed it to her.

No…none of that could be true. It was just the hormones talking. The fucking need to get laid. It had been weeks, longer than Sage had gone in years. Because masturbation was all fine and dandy and it got the job done, but it wasn’t the same as holding a woman in your arms, sinking your cock deep inside her while bringing you both to pleasure.

Fuck. He had to hold off on those thoughts for just a bit.

“How come you’re on the fourth floor?” she asked. “I’m on the first. What’s up with that?”

“No idea. I think it’s pretty random. They try to get all our rooms together.”

“Hmm.”

“But…you don’t share a room with any of the other roadies.”

“They share rooms?”

“Yeah. Only the band has their own private rooms. If the roadies want a private room, they have to pay the difference.”

“Oh. Then I have a single because I’m a woman?”

“That’s my guess—and since you joined after everything had already been booked, maybe that’s why you’re not on the same floor.”

“Makes sense…I just would rather not be on the first floor. Any other floor is fine.”

“You might let Bobby know. I think he’s in charge of all that shit.” And, for tonight, she didn’t have to sleep on the first floor. She could stay in Sage’s room all damn night.

Maybe they wouldn’t even sleep.

Jesus H. Christ. Just that thought sent another surge of blood to his cock again, reminding him how dumb it had been to forego sex for several weeks.

That was okay, though. He was getting ready to rectify that problem now.

Maybe.

When the elevator made its dinging sound and the doors finally slid open, Sage held out his arm so she would go first. She still held that bottle close to her body as if it were covering herself up. To guide and reassure her, he placed his hand on the small of her back. That she didn’t pull away helped him chill.

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