Page 27 of Complete Me
Kinsey opens the door a moment later, looking so fucking beautiful that I stand there and look at her like a dumbass, lovestruck teenager unable to form words. She’s wearing a black tank top with thin straps and a layered-looking floral miniskirt that puts her gorgeous, toned legs on display, with my book held to her chest. She found it. Which means she’s already opened this door today, and there’s only one reason she would have done that.
She was looking for me.
“Reid?”
“Hey, Kins. You, uh,” I rub my fingers through my thick beard, suddenly nervous. “You busy?”
“Nope. What’s up?”
Fuck, how is she so damn pretty?
“Can I tattoo you?” Shit, did that come out right? Why the fuck am I so nervous? Probably because of the filthy images I’ve been having of this woman for weeks now.
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. You suddenly scared, little fighter?” I taunt. Come on, baby, say yes.
She chews on the inside of her lip, twisting it to the side while she contemplates.
“Yeah, you can tattoo me. Please?”
I can’t help it. My eyes fucking flutter closed.
Kinsey takes a second to put the book back inside, then pulls her door shut behind us and follows me downstairs. She’s fucking barefoot again, and it just does something to me. Something about her lack of shoes makes everything seem so much more domestic, more comfortable than it should be. Even if that’s exactly what I want, though I shouldn’t.
I wipe down the leather table, sanitizing it again and pulling out a pillow for her to rest her head on. Kinsey climbs up and lies down on her back, her delicate fingers twisting the hem of her shirt. Once she’s settled, I raise the table up so that it puts her at the height I need. I’m such a big guy that it makes certain things difficult, and while getting into some weird-ass uncomfortable positions is sometimes mandatory, I do my best to take care of my back, so I’m not hunched over for hours at a time.
I don’t make eye contact with her while I glove up and pull out my colored pens. I do my best to never use stencils unless it’s needed. I believe in freehanding the artwork on the client and using their natural body shape to make the designs perfect. Kinsey is no exception. I’ll be damned if I’m using a stencil when I have all the time in the world to draw it on her before the tattoo.
After I’ve set up, I finally allow myself to meet her pretty blue eyes. Her expression nearly takes my breath away, looking at me with so much goddamn trust that I don’t deserve and have done nothing to earn.
“How are you with pain?”
I laugh as her expression mutates from awe and trust to her lips pursing as if to say “really?”
“I guess I have seen you take some hits from your brothers. But you’ve never passed out from needles?”
“Never.”
“Alright, sweetheart. If you pass out on me, I’m holding it over your head for life.”
“I’ve got this. I can’t believe it’s really happening.”
“Me neither,” I whisper under my breath.
My hand reaches up, her skirt resting high on her thighs, and for the first time, it hits me how close I’m about to be to the paradise that’s waiting between her legs. Jesus Christ, why thehell am I putting this temptation right in front of me? Just as my fingers touch the hem of the fabric, I pull back.
“Can you, uh, can you pull up your skirt?”
“Oh, yeah, duh, sorry. I guess I am a little nervous after all.”
“Totally normal, you’re gonna do great.” I say the words, unsure if they’re meant for her or me.
I’m unable to tear my eyes away as her fingers reach for the bottom of the skirt and she ever so fucking slowly pulls it up. Inch by glorious inch, more of Kinsey’s bare flesh is revealed to me. It’s not meant to be, and it’s clear she’s nervous about it, but there’s no denying how goddamn seductive the action is.
Her skin is fair and looks so damn smooth, and there’s a tiny freckle on the outside of her left thigh that I so badly want to press my mouth against. She hesitates for a moment before lifting up past her center, revealing a thin as fuck, black triangle of fabric covering her obviously bare pussy underneath.
Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to be able to press my face against her right now, to inhale her sweet pussy. I’m completely lost to the visual in front of me. My lungs stop working, my palms become clammy, and electricity zings through my body, waking me up after a long sleep. My cock responds, thickening behind my jeans and pressing painfully against the zipper. I want to rub my palm over it to give myself some relief, but the only relief I could find right now is deep inside her virgin pussy.
