Page 89 of Under the Ink

Playing for an audience? Hell, yeah.

Acting like a rock star? Now…not so much.

And that was all thanks to Naomi. But Sage felt like he was failing her. After she’d opened up to him, sharing her trauma, it was like she was doubling down on her pain.

Like shelikedhurting.

More accurately, wallowing in the miserable aftermath.

Sage knew that wasn’t true…and that she probably had half a dozen defense mechanisms in place meant to protect her—but he couldn’t figure out how to help her navigate that shit. It was like she was trapped in a forest of twisty, spiky trees and she couldn’t find her way out without causing herself more harm.

Taking advantage of all this particular venue offered, Sage jumped in the shower and, as he was toweling off after, heard a knock at the door. He was pretty sure he still had about half an hour before they had to leave, so he didn’t know who would be knocking. After securing the towel around his waist, he said, “Yeah?”

“It’s Naomi. Can I come in?”

“If you’re okay that I’m not dressed.”

The door slowly opening told him everything he needed to know. “Actually, I think I’d prefer it that way.”

Cocking an eyebrow, his eyes feasted on her. The past two months with this woman had turned his life upside down—in the best of ways—and she’d neatly filled the hole in his heart he hadn’t remembered he had. And, because of that, she had become the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. From her short dark hair that sometimes covered her emerald eyes like a mask to the artwork on the canvas of her flesh hiding her traumatic past in plain sight, he’d grown to love every inch of her.

More than that, he cherished her heart—and that made him want to protect her, save her, help her find her way through the dark.

“Really? I haven’t been with a groupie in a while,” he joked.

But the look on her face communicated that she either didn’t think it was funny or hated what it implied. And her next question threw him off. “What do groupies do for you?”

“Do you mean physically or mentally?”

“I’m just wondering why you’d call me that.”

“I was just being playful. Joking. You’ve heard of humor, right?”

The way she frowned made it hard for him to read her. Was she getting pissed or upset? Had he again said the wrong thing?

But she said, “I can’t help it if you’re not actually funny. I recommend you stick to drumming. Stand up’s not your thing.”

Sage laughed. “Gotcha.”

It was then that she took two steps closer. “We still have a little bit before we have to board—and all my stuff’s done.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Maybe,” she said, getting close enough that he could almost feel her body heat, her eyes focused on his bare chest.

“Whatareyou saying?”

“I want you to fuck me…right here.”

Of all the things he’d expected out of her mouth,thatwasn’t quite it. The intent, sure, but not the way she’d delivered it. Strong language washisthing, not hers—but his cock had already received the message, pulling the blood from the rest of his body in preparation.

“Be kinda hard with your clothes on.”

“Don’t think I haven’t thought of that,” she said, bending over to unlace her boots. In seconds, she was pulling them off before peeling the jeans down her legs. Underneath them, she wore light pink panties, a color he knew she would never wear on the outside, because a feminine color like that would soften the image she’d worked so hard at trying to perfect.

And he wanted nothing more than to rip them off her.

When she stood and slammed her mouth into his, demanding to taste him, he obliged—and his cock swelled further, pushing against the towel into her flesh. Her short nails dug into the flesh on the back of his neck just underneath his hair, something she’d never done before. It stung…but in the best of ways.

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