Page 109 of Sugar and Skulls

“It’s okay, sweetheart, take your time. I’m going to keep you busy for the rest of the day,” a gravelly voice says. The deadbolt clicks, echoing through the shop.

My hands pause in mid-air. A bolt of electricity shoots up my spine. Do I run or stand my ground?

The sound of clothes hitting the floor spurs me into action. I continue setting up my tray. “So, you got a design in mind?”

“Eh, not really. Something dark, no color.”

I giggle. “No pinks or purples?”

A squeak escapes my lips when his hand cracks over my ass.

I rub my butt slowly turning to face him. My eyes drink in the dark god in front of me. Sweet mother of Jesus. How am I going to tattoo him? He is a walking distraction. His eyebrow is at a lazy angle. He is enjoying this.

I point to my chair as I snap on my gloves. He flicks the piercing in his lip, before giving me a smile that makes my stomach flip.

“I do have something in mind. Trust me?”

“The only person I trust one hundred percent, besides myself,” he says smoothly.

Good answer, it makes me smile. I trust him too.

“Okay, let’s get started.”

He looks sexy as fuck in nothing but his black, tight boxers and the ink on his skin. I zone in on the empty spot on top of his thigh. I’ve pictured this design for a long time. I’m super stoked to put my mark on him. I turn some music on and get busy.

He’s quiet, a perfect client. I glance up at his face every now and then. His eyes are closed, and he has a serene expression on his face, you wouldn’t know I was digging into his flesh with a needle. When I’m finished, I wipe the excess ink off his skin. Perfect.

As I’m studying it to make sure it’s exactly how I want it. He shifts so he can get his first peek. I keep my eyes on the design, afraid he won’t like it.

His fingers slide into my hair, he wraps the strands around his fist, slowly forcing me to face him. His eyes are stormy, a combination of dark swirls and deep blues. “What’s this?” he asks, his eyes moving to my lips, waiting for my response.

“Us.” I wince as his grip tightens.

He pulls me up onto the chair, forcing me to straddle him.

“Dirk, I’m going to hurt you. Your tattoo is fresh.”

“You hurt me every day.”

I’m so confused. Does he like it or not? Did I make him angry?

“Loving you hurts so fucking much. But, nothing has ever been worth so much pain.” His lips crash into mine, his tongue forcing entry. He moans into my mouth as soon as I allow him access.

When he pulls away, my fingers go to my lips, dancing over them. Jesus I think he may have bruised them. He grinds his hips upward making me forget...everything.

“I have to have you. Right. Now. Jesse,” he growls. He releases my hair so that he can unbuckle my jeans. I push his hands away so I can do it myself more quickly. He pushes his boxers down when I rise to shimmy out of my pants.

Soon enough we are

skin to skin,

soul to soul.

Skull to Skull.

Two people who will do anything to protect what is theirs.

I wrap my arms around his neck. His hands grip my ass cheeks, forcing me to go at the pace he sets. It’s brutal, it’s wild, it’s beautiful. Our eyes are caught up in a negotiation neither of us can deny. They are making treaties, forcing unspoken promises, and sealing deals.

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