Page 2 of Sinful Skulls
Reality is the opposite. I’ve never been so hot.
“Thank fucking god it’s cooling off. I’ve been sweating my balls off out here,” he jokes.
My eyes widen in surprise.
“Oh fuck, shit … I mean …” He stops speaking and sighs loudly. “I’m sorry about the language. I don’t have a filter.”
My brain is already reveling in every square inch of this man. He must feel so free, moving around the world without filtering himself.
He’s a walking piece of art. He tickles all my senses in a good way. That’s not good. It’s bad. I’m sure it’s bad. It just feels good. But it shouldn’t, should it?
He’s holding all my stuff in his arms. They’re decorated with ink like the rest of him. My gaze slides to the sides of his shirt. It’s cut clean open, and when the wind blows, I catch the wordTrustbeautifully scrolled across his ribs.
His chuckle draws my eyes back to his face.
“You’re one of those quiet types, aren’t you?”
Oh, I haven’t said anything.What should I say?
“It’s okay if you don’t like to talk much. I can chat enough for the both of us,” he says as he starts to head up the beach.
I stand and stare at the darkening ocean for a moment before hurrying to catch up to him.
“Just guide me to your car, and I’ll help get this all loaded up for you.”
To my car? Oh, he thinks I drove here. Shit, I can’t take him back to my apartment. That would be a stupid thing to do.
He keeps walking, and I have to run on my short little legs to keep up. I hurry in front of him, jogging backward so I can see if he’s smudging my painting with his big hands. My mouth goes dry, and I stop.
He pauses too.
“You okay?” His eyebrows pull together as he does a quick head to toe assessment of me.
His hands are exquisite. Rough and also graphically covered. It excites me, because it has to mean he’s an art lover. He’s living breathing art that’s dark and dangerous.
He’s got dirty blond hair and eyes that are the strangest color. It’s like staring into the milky way galaxy. Blues, hues of green, and silver, and …
“Um.” He glances behind him, stealing the universe I was just exploring.
Oh. I see what’s happening. He’s starting to realize he’s engaged with a crazy person.
I turn around and start walking, trying to act normal. I’m not sure if he’s following because I’m too scared to look.
Okay, so what are my options here?
Tell him I don’t have a car and let him walk me home. That would be a stupid risk.
I could ask him to set my stuff beside a random person’s ride, wait for him to leave, and then go home. Yep. That’s exactly what I should do. That’s the safe bet.
How did I even get myself into this situation?
“I don’t know how you beach people deal with all this fucking sand. I swear the shit has worked its way into the crack of my ass.”
A chuckle escapes me.
“Aw, you do have a voice. I was starting to wonder.”
Well, I at least know he’s still behind me. I shake my head and continue toward the parking lot, scanning for a car I can claim as mine.
