Page 63 of Worth the Trouble

I trace the Sharpie up her rib and continue working on my design, trying to ignore the fact that even if I told her I’d be over her the second I came inside her, I’m nowhere near feeling that way yet.

“Your skin was made to be inked.” I draw another line, loving how the dark marker stands out on her skin.

“I don’t think my dance company would agree.”

“Fuck them.”

She laughs again, and I want to keep saying things that force that sound from her lips.

“You don’t need ink anyway.” I shrug.

“Says the guy covered in tattoos?”

“You’re already perfect as is. Unblemished.”

She peeks over her shoulder at me, narrowing her gaze through her dark eyelashes. “What does that make you then?”

“The messiest piece of art you’ll ever meet.” I try to avoid her stare because that shit does something to me.

From the corner of my eye, I spot her lips curling into a smile and it’s beautiful, just like every expression she offers. She tries so hard to bury her reactions that they feel like a mission accomplished when I spot one.

I snap the cap on the Sharpie and plant a kiss on her smooth shoulder before backing away so she can roll onto her back. She’s naked in my bed, covered from the waist down with her dark hair fanning across the white pillows.

I love how comfortable she is in her own skin. Even if she tries to give the impression she’s closed off, around me she lets me see her fully without hesitation. When we kiss, when we fuck—she’s stripped wide open.

Lili gazes up at me with innocent eyes, and she looks too good exposed like this. I have to break her gaze before it crawls too deep inside me.

She moves her arm and glances down at my drawing on her skin. I couldn’t help myself. I get primal with this girl, and I need to mark her in every way I can think of.

“A lily,” she says, tracing her fingers over the flower I drew on her skin. “Why’s it bleeding?”

Her eyebrows pinch as she scans the drops of blood falling from the petals. Bright red Sharpie ink against the stark black drawing on her skin. It’s twisted how pretty the sight of it is.

“Your life spills out of you.” Lifting my hand, I follow her fingers over the drawn-on petals. “How you dance, how you look, how you move. You give yourself away in everything you do.”

Her lips turn into the slightest frown. “I’m not sure I have anything left.”

“Because you’re always giving it to everyone else.”

“It’s draining.”

I run my hand up her chest and plant it between her small, perfect breasts. “I’d like to drain you.”

A smirk climbs her cheek. “I’m sure you would.”

It’s an odd feeling. I should be over her by now. I’m a shitty guy who lives up to my rock star reputation. I leave girls after I screw them on a daily basis, and that’s what I should have done with Lili as well. But whatever mess I’m making in this pool of regret is so much worse.

“What’s this mean?” Lili brushes her fingers over the tattoo on my throat.

“The all-seeing eye?”

She nods. It’s no secret she’s curious about it, seeing as it’s the one tattoo on me she’s always staring at. She watches it like I watch her. Like it sees everything.

“It’s a reminder that people can only ever really take what you give them.”

“I don’t get it.”

“It’s a piece from my past.”

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