Page 34 of Unhinged Magic
At that moment, the brush of movement slid lower, covering the apex of my thighs. Cupping me.
He paused, leaving the pressure right where I wanted him. Giving me nothing more to release the aching need grappling my sex.
Suddenly I felt his smirk against my ear, a low chuckle. “Hold on to that thought, Skip.”
Then his presence was gone, leaving me with an unhinged frustration and sweaty brow.
Asshole.
Wesley
Thefrontdoorofmy tattoo parlor swung open, Reid’s voice breaking my thoughts. “What bites?”
I lifted my head from the sketch I’d been working on, shaking my head at his flippant remark. “Of all the things to say in a town like this,” I muttered.
He wore loosely laced boots, casual black jeans, and an equally dark long sleeve tee. Swirls of ink curled over his forearms from where he had pushed his tee up to his elbows, making him look like he fit in here more than I did. Having inked the designs myself, I knew they covered him from the waist up, hiding history he refused to talk about.
Leaning against the front counter, he looked over the desk at me. “Ok, what gives?”
I let my stool roll back on its wheels and stretched my legs. Staring back at the sketch in front of me, annoyance churned in my gut. It wasn’t coming together the way I envisioned. Letting the pencil drop from my fingers, it clattered against my desk.
My mind had been a complete mess when I woke up this morning. Thoughts of Skye and this whole fucking thing with mybrother’sghosthad left me reeling. Sleep just hadn’t come, and I knew I looked like shit.
Reid wasn’t blind, nor stupid. I knew he smelled a rat, but I couldn’t tell him about Skye. Not yet. I couldn’t risk it getting back to Ty before I got the chance to speak to him myself.
As if my silence beckoned his attention further, Reid pulled out a chair, flipping it backwards, his arms draped over the back as he looked at me expectantly. I dragged my hand through my hair, weighing up how to approach the topic without saying too much.
“Say you wanted to talk to a ghost… how would you go about it? Asking for a friend.”
Reid looked at me doubtfully. “Personally, I wouldn’t fuck with the dead.”
My lips pulled into a thin line. I had to agree with him. Until last night.
An uncomfortable silence filled the room, and I stumbled for what to say next.
Reid’s voice broke the quiet. “Mate, I don’t know what’s brought this on, but the dead are better off ignored, in my opinion. They aren’t… ”
Suddenly, the door to Inked flew open, a red-faced Skye storming inside.
“Who do you think you are?” she seethed, slamming the door shut behind her. The force caused the windows to rattle. Her hands hung at her sides, bunched into fists, a fever in her eyes brightening them into two fluorescent bulbs.
My brows shot to the roof. I darted a look at Reid, his gaze flitting between us.
Skye followed my eyeline, stilling when she noticed him perched on the chair.
Reid’s fingers thrummed against the back of the chair. “Here for some ink, Skye?”
“Ah.” She stopped short, grappling for words. “Yeah, thinking about it.”
Rising from my stool, I leaned against the side of my desk, throwing her a look we both understood.
Not here.
The barrel of fire directed at me didn’t extinguish.
“It seems Skye’s not happy with the design I drew for her,” I said, coming up with the first thing I could, to divert any suspicion.
Her glare didn’t ease up. “I didn’t think it wasappropriate,” she shot back.
