Page 63 of My Promise To Keep

The mischief in his eyes thrills me. I know that look, and I can’t resist it.

‘I want in.’ I grin, and he taps a balled-up fist on the countertop before sitting.

‘Where?’

I think about it for a second. I’ve come this far. I’m here. I’m with him, so I might as well let him see a little something.

‘My thigh.’ His eyes flick up toward me as I step a little closer to him, my back to Fi, Gus, and the woman in their chair, and then I raise up my skirt on one side to expose the front of my leg. ‘Here.’

I watch the flare of heat in his eyes as they hold my gaze for a moment, and then he lowers his attention to the blank canvas on offer. He holds up some tracing paper and presses it against my skin, and his touch zings through me like the sharp shock of static electricity as he takes a pen and traces the shape and size of the area available.

‘What do you want?’ he asks, his voice low and full of that gravel tone that makes my skin burn, as he raises his gaze back to mine again.

‘Whatever you want to give me,’ I say quietly, and I hear him inhale deeply.

I lower my dress, then sit in the chair next to him and lean forward, ready to look over whatever design he comes up with.

I don’t know what I’m doing, but I know I’m not throwing this away again.

After Fi and Gus are finished with their client, and, as their next appointment is a no-show, Leo sends them home and shuts the shop. My heart races with anticipation. I’m alone with him.

With the designs he’s drawn in his hand, Leo leads me back to the private area at the back of the shop. It’s hidden behind thick, heavy black drapes that are usually open but can be drawn for tattoos and piercings in intimate areas. As he turns out the lights at the front of the shop and draws the drapes closed behind us, I sit back on the chair. I can feel the gentle tremble of nerves rolling through my body, but I welcome it.

‘So, what do you want to go for?’ he says as he straddles the stool and lowers to sit. His muscular thighs spread wide, testing the limitations of the denim covering them.

‘I already said, whatever you want to give me.’

Without another word, Leo stands and lifts my dress up to expose my thigh, and I gasp as his fingers stroke over the already heated skin.

He doesn’t speak as he works through the familiar steps methodically.

He sprays my thigh, and the cool liquid makes me gasp. I notice the smirk as he reaches for a razor before shaving me there. I swallow hard as I watch him work, not sure I ever truly appreciated how completely beautiful he is. Hot, yes. Sexy, hell yes, butbeautiful… I’m not sure.

His smooth olive skin, beautiful green eyes, and full, soft pink lips contrast with the edginess of his short, almost black hair and the tattoos creeping out from under his clothes like vines seeking out the light.

He wipes and sprays, wipes and sprays, working through the preparation as I practically squirm with the desire rising in me.

The smell, the clean, familiar scent of the solution, a scent that I have associated with Leo for over a decade, attacks my senses. I want to press my thighs together to ease or feed the need between them, but he’s too close. He’s right there, and I can’t hide from him. This is the best foreplay I’ve ever experienced, and I don’t even know where this is heading.

I’m practically panting as I fight to control my breathing, and he knows it. I can see the hunger in his eyes, the tension in his beautiful forearms, the deep rise and fall of his chest.

This is intimate, agonizingly so. I don’t know if it’s because it’s been so long since we spent any real time alone together or because the connection in us is just so strong, and I’ve missed it so much, but it feels like we’re a shaken-up soda bottle and the lid is about to come off.

I didn’t come here for this. I came here to see him, to talk, but every second he touches my skin, the pressure builds a little more.

As he presses the stencil to my skin, I look down. He hadn’t shown me the designs. As always, I gave him free rein to use my skin as his canvas, and as always, the design is beautiful, but I can’t focus on sitting through this — it seems too much like torture to wait for him to finish the pretty mandala design before I can touch him back.

‘Leo,’ his name is a breath, barely there, and he raises his gaze to mine.

‘Come look in the mirror.’

He holds out his hand to me, and I take it, letting him pull me up to sitting before he lifts me down and sets me on my feet.

He turns me toward the full-length mirror and stands behind me, then his fingers grip the bottom of my skirt. As he slowly raises the fabric, I can’t control my breath. I don’t know if I lean back or he steps forward, but my back is flush against his hard chest as I meet his hungry stare in our reflection.

‘Zoe…’ my whispered name tickles across the skin at the back of my neck, and I can’t think anymore. I turn in his arms seconds before he bends to pick me up, wrapping my legs around his waist as my back hits the wall and his mouth crashes against mine.

It Changed Things

---