Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
“I can’t believe you let me get naked in someone else’s room,” I tease, making Quinton growl angrily behind me.
Reaching around, he cups my breasts in his large palms. His touch is urgent and rough as he pulls me against his chest.
“I know what you’re doing.” Quinton pinches my nipples, and I let my head fall back against his shoulder with a moan.
“Me?” I ask innocently.
Of course, he knows exactly what I’m doing. I’m egging him on, making him a little jealous. It’s no secret that I love my husband’s dark side just as much as I love his soft side. Maybe even more so.
“Lie down on the chair before I bend you over the couch and fuck you raw.” Heat blooms in my core, and I have to force my legs to move before I bend myself over the couch. Teasing my husband has become one of my favorite pastimes, and we don’t have time for that right now.
The chair smells like disinfectant, reminding me of a hospital. My mood darkens in an instant. I straddle the reclined chair and press my chest to the back, letting my arms dangle to the side.
Quinton walks around me, making sure Billy won’t get a glimpse of side boob. When he is somewhat satisfied, he straightens up and yells, “You can come in now.”
The bathroom door opens, and Billy pops his head through the opening as if he’s still not sure if it’s safe to come out. When he realizes I’m on the chair, he opens the door farther and steps into the room, still a little apprehensive.
Quinton stands next to me, his arms folded across his puffed-out chest. His eyes are set into an angry glare, and his foot taps against the floor impatiently. He didn’t think this through. He didn’t foresee what it would do to him, having another guy touch me, no matter the circumstance. Somehow, I find this a little funny.
“Okay, so I’m going to clean her skin and put a stencil on,” Billy explains with a shaky voice while putting on a pair of latex gloves.
A moment later, I feel a cold rag being rubbed over my back. Then he carefully centers the stencil and transfers it onto my skin. “We’ll hide the scar right under here.” His fingers run over what I assume is going to be the lotus. “Do you want me to leave again so you can look at it?”
I’m not sure if he is asking Quinton or me since I’m not used to having people talk to me when I’m with my husband. Nevertheless, I answer. “I don’t need to see it. I trust Quinton’s judgment.”
More importantly, I hate looking at the scar, the last physical reminder of what happened that night, of what Matteo did to me… what he took from us.
Normally, thinking of that night fills me with dread, and though I’m not feeling great thinking of it now, I also feel a huge relief knowing that I never have to look at it again. Once I have the tattoo, at least I’ll be more comfortable in my own skin. The bad will be washed away and replaced with something beautiful.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Quinton
I really didn’t think this through.
Aspen is sprawled out shirtless on the tattoo chair. Billy can’t see anything besides her back, but even that seems too much. Even worse, he is touching her. I try to tell myself this is how it has to be. He can’t tattoo her without touching her. Unfortunately, the primal part inside me doesn’t care.
For the past few years, I have spent every minute of the day keeping Aspen safe. I don’t let anyone touch her, talk to her, or even look at her. So this goes against everything I’m used to.
“Quinton? Is it okay?” Aspen cranes her neck to look up at me while the rest of her stays still, and I would swear Billy’s starting to sweat. He’d better. He better know how to behave himself with her.
Is it okay? No, none of this is okay, but that isn’t the question she’s asking, and we both know it.
I stand beside him to examine the placement of the stencil, and I have to admit his design is brilliant. It will perfectly conceal her scar to where nobody would ever know it exists. “Yes. The placement looks good.”
A careful choice of words. “I’m pleased so far.” I make a point of glaring down at Billy when I say it, and although his eyes are carefully trained on her back, I’d bet anything he gets my meaning.
“Great. I’ll get to work now.” He sounds relieved. I’m sure the sooner this is done, the better for him.
“Come sit over here.” Aspen gestures to the wheeled chair near where she’s waiting to get inked. “Come talk to me. I want to be able to see you.”