Page 121 of I Blame the Rival

Pulling out my phone, I open the photo album I created the other day. It felt presumptuous making it before Lacey confirmed she wanted me to draw on her, but I didn’t want to be empty-handed in case she did.

“Ooh, I like that one.” She leans over and points to the silhouette of blossoming azaleas surrounded by falling leaves.

“There are a few things I can do with this one.” Flipping back to the sketch of her, I run my finger over the lines of her body, “We could keep it small and simple, on your arm or your leg for instance, or I could expand it to cover the surface of your back.”

She falls silent beside me, watching my fingers trace the outline of her body.

“Where would you want to put it?”

“It’s not my body, Flower.”

“But what if it was?”

I swallow thickly, looking down at the sketch in my lap. There are so many things I want to do, but only one has been haunting me from sunrise to sunset.

“I would start here,” I tap the edge of her finger, “And work my way up, using your freckles as a guideline.” Trailing my finger along the sketch, I hear Lacey suck in a breath, “Until I make it to your heart. Then I would head south,” I brush the peak of her nipple before cutting across her torso to the opposite hip, “And take my time here. I would finish by working my way down to your toes, so there isn’t a part of your body that I haven’t marked.”

“Wow.” Lacey exhales heavily, “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“You could say that.”

She laughs, a breathless sound that has my blood simmering.

“Do you have enough markers to do that? Mark me from head to toe?”

I should tell her no. I should tell her it’s a ridiculous fantasy that will never come true because it’s too much too soon.

“Yeah.”

Cursing myself for being a selfish bastard, I can’t bring myself to look at Lacey while she thinks over her answer.

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She blows out a breath, giving herself a nod, “This is going to be fun.”

I shut my sketchbook and climb to my feet. By the time I have everything ready, Lacey looks more excited than nervous, and the sight calms the racing pace of my heart.

Helping her strip off her clothes, I gently lay her down on my bed.

“Are you okay?”

I’m trying not to stare at her naked body lying on top of my duvet, but it’s no use. My eyes drink in the sight of the pale skin glowing against my bedspread, the dusting of dark hair between her thighs, the hesitant smile painting her lips.

“I think so. Is this going to hurt?”

Reaching out, I brush the constellation of freckles running along her torso.

“It shouldn’t. I bought special markers that are supposed to be better for skin.”

Sliding my finger up her body, I observe the way she reacts to my touch. There’s an initial flinch, a slight tension when I reach a new spot, but it shouldn’t be a problem as long as I take it slow.

Lacey bites her lip nervously and the sight has me quickly pulling away my hand.

“We don’t have to do this.”

“No. I want to.” She hesitates, looking me in the eye, “I’m just a little scared right now.”

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