Page 85 of His Greatest Muse

“Thank you for taking over for Hunter today, Dad. I’ll see you later?” I ask.

We got to Salt Lake City, Utah, this morning, and we’re staying for two nights while the band finishes recording the album. Swift Edge Records has studios all over America, serving as a constant reminder that Noah wasn’t signed to some mediocre label but one of the best. I’m grateful for the two-day stay as that means my dad gets to hang out with us longer. Garrison put him up in the same hotel that I convinced Noah to stay in tonight.With me.

My neck grows hot as I let my gaze wander over my rock star. He looks incredibly sexy in those tight black jeans that I know are cupping his ass just right. The grey acid-washed tee hung over his shoulders hides the thick ridges of abdominal muscle that I haven’t had a chance to get properly acquainted with these past couple of weeks. He’s all about touching me when we’re alone, but when I try to take my time with him, he always has other plans. I want to change that as soon as possible. Tonight, hopefully.

His hair is overgrown even for him, and I know the length has been bothering him. I’ll give it a trim once Paisley gets a chance to braid it in all of its current glory. Fit with red lips, dark under eyes, and dangerous brown eyes, he’s all mine.

He doesn’t play until tomorrow, and I have big, big plans for him tonight. Starting with a trip to a small tattoo parlour that Sparks told me about this morning.

Dad shakes me out of my head when he gives me a goodbye hug. “Yeah, I’ll see you later. Stay safe tonight.”

I reluctantly tear my eyes from Noah and return Dad’s hug. As soon as he pulls away, Noah’s moving in, clearly just as impatient as I am. His hand settles between my shoulder blades before drifting down, fingers caressing my spine.

My shiver is involuntary. “Love you!” I squeak at Dad when he starts to leave us.

“I love you, Tiny,” he calls over his shoulder, and then he’s gone.

I hardly have a chance to take a breath before Noah’s spinning me around and kissing me until the only thing left in my mind is him.

It’s peaceful. Like coming home.

33

NOAH

“God,do you have any non-tattooed skin?” Tinsley grumbles, pawing at my body.

It was when she shoved my shirt up my chest and couldn’t find enough bare skin to ink anything more than a single letter that she started to become growly. Her scowl deepened after she spun me around and repeated her check on my back. It was the same result. Not including my face, there’s only one part of me that I’ve kept void of ink, and I’m disappointed in her for not remembering. She’s seen the small section of blank skin more than once. Touched and sucked it.

The tattoo shop she brought me to is a dive. It’s dark and smells like mould. If it were a male artist, I would have taken her and left already. If she wanted a tattoo this badly, she could have come with me any of the times I got mine. Her sudden change of mind is surprising. I’ve done several of my own tattoos. I could have done hers. In private. At home.

“Fine. We’re tattooing your face, then,” she huffs. Even after she’s backed away a step, her perfume lingers, making my cock stiffen. It’s always fucking hard now. I don’t remember the last time it was fully soft.

“Okay,” I agree.

She blinks repeatedly. “Actually?”

“Why does that surprise you?”

“Because it’s a face tattoo.”

“I’ve done tons of face tattoos,” the lone artist in the shop puts in. She’s tall and edgy with a buzzed head that’s been dyed pink. The two holes in her earlobes are interesting. I wonder if they hurt or whether she didn’t feel them stretching like that.

The black leather table she’s begun to set supplies onto is one of the only two in the shop. The shop I go to back home is similar in size but better. If this artist ruins Tinsley’s skin, this place won’t last much longer.

“Just don’t give me a prison tattoo,” I deadpan.

Tinsley rolls her eyes and smirks. “I don’t know, I think you’re rugged enough to pull it off. And Garrison would most definitely have a stroke.”

“Tempting.”

She taps a blunt nail to the skin above the arch of her brow. “I’m thinking right here.”

“I’ll get one there if you do.”

“Really?” Excitement turns her cheeks pink.

“Yes.”

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