Page 5 of Pomegranate Kiss

Cam reached out, the tips of her fingers tracing along the lines before she could help herself. If she didn’t have Lex’s full attention before, she did now. That stare was both wild and languorous in the same breath. Cam played with a flame here, skimming her fingers over the top and attempting to not get burned.

Lex stopped kicking the ground to push the swing. Instead, she pivoted to face her, and the breath hitched in Cam’s throat. Lex leaned closer and brought her palm up to cup the side of her face. Cam leaned into the touch, unable to deny that in the short time they’d spent together, the heat and promise of Lex’s gaze had her panties soaked. Her tongue slipped out to wet her lips, and Lex’s eyes zeroed in on the motion.

Lex pulled her hand away to trace the line of her jaw, the sensitive skin of her earlobe, and then she ran her thumb across Cam’s lower lip. The motion caused her to shiver. This was far more personal and intense than even their session in the bathroom had been. Her whole body trembled with anticipation, a chord begging to be plucked. Lex’s mouth was a breath away from hers, and she resisted the temptation to dive in and close the distance between them. She’d stepped into the tiger’s den, and Lex was aware of every motion, every shallow breath.

Lex’s fingertips glided down her neck, the slow scrape of her nails making Cam delirious. She’d been plagued with doubts from the moment she’d agreed to this, but the bliss radiating through her in the simple, sinful motions banished them away.

Lex leaned a little closer—their lips were so close the air vibrated between them. Cam let out a ragged breath, unable to help herself.

A wicked grin sparked Lex’s eyes, and she pulled away.

“We’re doing this my way, sweetheart, and I’m going to drag this out until you’re begging.”

Lex might as well have dumped a bucket of ice water over her. Cam’s shoulders rose up and down with shuddering breaths in the wake of the disruption. Lex kicked off again, setting the swing into motion while Cam collected herself from the puddle of goo she’d turned into.

“You’re a monster.” Cam shook her head in disbelief. Lex’s gaze twinkled with amusement, a smirk on her lips. “Let me guess, this is what gets you off.”

“Every time, baby,” Lex cackled, leaning against the seat again. She cast Cam an amused glance. “I promised you the whole experience, which I will deliver. Trust me when I say the wait will be worth it.”

“Pretty sure you’re just a sadist,” Cam retorted, running a hand through her thick curls and trying to will away the heat from her cheeks. Not like she could do anything about the throb between her legs, at least until later.

“I’ve been called worse.” Lex grinned wide and the tip of her tongue glided over her canine.

Lex kicked off again, continuing to swing along on the bench while her eyes glinted in amusement. Whatever had been about to happen, Lex closed the door on it for tonight. Despite the way Cam’s body roared its complaints, she had to admit she didn’t mind the time to get to know her, to sink into this rather than slam into a bathroom stall.

However this experiment turned out, Cam was a hundred percent sure it would either be her best or worst decision.

Chapter Three

“Hold still, you twitchy motherfucker,” Lex growled, even as her hand remained steady.

The stylus buzzed, the static noise of it something that soothed her nerves. She’d been getting inked from the second she turned eighteen, when it rocketed from a curiosity into a full-blown addiction. The scent of rubbing alcohol pierced the air, and she wiped with the tissue she used to blot. Mitch leaned hard on the table, but the asshole kept flexing his fingers every so often. His scruff threatened to turn into a beard as of late, and despite the stupidly pretty eyelashes on him, they didn’t distract from the weariness in his gaze.

“I bet the clients come pouring in just for your award-winning attitude,” Mitch drawled, amusement in his eyes. He’d stopped piercing a couple of years ago for Inkspirations, but their friendship somehow weathered their “born from the bowels of Hell” dispositions.

“I’m not paid to pontificate, dickbag,” Lex continued. Truth be told, she owed Mitch a lot. He was one of the few friends who had stuck around after she’d gotten locked up, and even though they didn’t work together anymore, they still hung out, whether they took the bikes for a drive along the highway at midnight or caught a shitty horror movie at Terrace Theater.

“Busting out your thesaurus now?” he joked, his eyes crinkled at the edges with his smile.

“Ladies love a linguist,” Lex shot back even as she focused on the sweep of the lines. The fugue state she descended into when she inked set in—the hyper-concentration, the way her hand swerved in a mesmerizing rhythm of lines and edges—only interrupted when she blotted the ink and dabbed more on. She was head over heels for this piece, and they’d started at the base of his arm with plans of doing a full sleeve. It featured a messload of death and destruction, the black lines of charred skulls, the delicate strokes of crows flying overhead, and a flickering candle at the base, as flame ran up through the scenes.

“Speaking of ladies,” Mitch spoke up, his low voice breaking through the haze. “Since it’s one of my few off nights, want to wingman for me tonight? My dry spell’s stretching close to six months.”

Lex made a gagging noise but kept inking away, almost done the section they worked on this session. “Bro, six months is way too long. Even Adrian’s getting laid on the regular now.”

“Don’t listen to her, Mitch,” Bellamy James bellowed from the other room. “A week’s too long for that one.”

“Thanks,boss,” Lex shouted even though Bellamy already strolled over to stand in the doorframe.

The owner of Inkspirations was tall enough he needed to duck under the doorway, and due to the kickboxing he did every day, all the honed muscle combined with tons of ink made him look like one mean motherfucker. Absolute bullshit—she’d never meta sweeter wiseass. Her boss’s work and the ink he got himself was a hybrid of vintage blended with newer styles, and folks booked a full year in advance to get an appointment with him.

“Don’t be jealous, Bell.” Lex flashed a wicked grin back. “There’ll be some scraps left over on my one-woman mission to turn them all.”

Mitch snorted. “With the amount you get lucky, we’ll all end up celibate.”

Lex pulled the tattoo gun back, surveying her work. “Right babe, let’s wrap you up for now.”

She smeared the ointment on the raised skin of his arm, blood pricking from sections where she’d gone over the lines a couple of times with more intricate details. She wrapped the tattoo in plastic and then taped it around the edges. Once she finished up with Mitch, she snapped her purple latex gloves off, tossing them in the bin.

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