Page 8 of Immortal Bastard

He seemed really preoccupied with her male customers. She hoped she didn’t misread the situation. It would be a crushing blow to women everywhere if this chiseled Adonis turned out to be gay. “Most of my customers are men.”

“And how long do you work on them?”

She shrugged. “Depends on what they get. People ask for all kinds of wild shit. The more intricate, the longer it takes.”

“You swear too much.”

She frowned and laughed. “You some kind of minister, too?”

“I told you, I’m just a farmer.”

“Right.”

He glanced at her exposed arms. “How many tattoos do you have?”

“They sort of blend together at this point. I’ve been in the chair at least fifty times.” Turning the corner, Skin Deep came into view. “Here we are.”

Removing the key from her purse, she unlocked the metal caging over the door. It slid up with a slow rolling rumble. Opening the glass door, she held it for him as her fingers flipped the light switch.

Christian scanned the decorated walls as he stepped inside. Nothing in his expression gave away his thoughts. In the bright lights of the store, he looked even more gorgeous than before. Arousal teased as she imagined him sliding inside of her.

He drew in an audible breath and abruptly faced her. She stilled, the strangest notion raising the hairs on her arms. Was she in danger?

Oddly, she still wasn’t nervous. The energy between them crackled as he looked at her through intensely hooded eyes. She needed a moment to gather her thoughts and check her tools.

“I’ll, uh, get my portfolio so you can get some ideas.”

He took a slow step toward her, closing the distance. “We both know I didn’t come here for a tattoo, Delilah.”

She swallowed, her head angling back as she looked up at him. “You didn’t?”

He slowly shook his head. “Don’t play coy. Your body betrays you. Your heart rate’s accelerating and your eyes are dilated.” Then he did something no man had ever done in her presence before. He tipped back his head, shutting his eyes, as he sniffed the air, long and slow. “And you’re aroused.”

Did he just smell her vagina? What the fuck…

Uncertainty unraveled inside of her and she took a step back. Why had she brought him here?

“Easy, little one,” he said softly in that placating voice. “There’s no need for unease.”

And just like that, her jittery trepidation calmed and a placid peace washed over her as if someone hooked her up to an IV of heavily soothing drugs. His words should not have lulled her, yet she felt cocooned in a state of trustful bliss.

“Okay,” she said in an embarrassingly dopey voice.

“I prefer when you’re calm.”

Was he asking or pointing out the obvious? She should’ve been alarmed by the uncharacteristic sense of tranquility, but she was too damn chill at the moment to care.

Her brow pinched. “This doesn’t make sense. I don’t know you, yet I feel incredibly peaceful in your presence.”

“Perhaps your instincts recognize me as someone trustworthy.”

That didn’t sound right, but it felt right. Weird.

She studied his intent expression under the clinical lights of the studio. He had one of those faces that were hard to put an age to. He could’ve been in his late twenties just as easily as he could’ve been in his early forties. He was definitely older than her twenty-nine years.

Her gaze traveled down his front to the substantial bulge between his hips. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, her mind wavering between sensuality and uncertainty.

Reaching forward, he stroked a jet-black tendril of her hair and she leaned into the caress. “I enjoy it when you look at me like that, Delilah.”

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