Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 123672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she tells me, pointing toward her tattooing chair for me to take a seat. “Once something gets dumped into my handbag, it might as well start paying rent because it’ll never come out again.”
I laugh and drop down into her chair, watching as she rolls toward me on her wheely stool, her knee brushing against mine. “What do you want?” she asks, her gaze trailing over my body.
“You, Mace.”
Her gaze snaps back to mine. “That’s not what I—”
“I know what you meant,” I say, cutting her off and taking her chin, holding her gaze hostage.
Hesitation flashes in her eyes. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“The tattoo, or you and me?”
“You and me,” she murmurs, her voice so low as though she’s afraid of saying it any louder.
Pushing forward in the chair, I lean into her, my hands dropping to her thighs and rolling her in even closer. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Mace. I see the pulse at the base of your throat speed up every time I come close,” I say, brushing my fingers across her neck. “You want this just as much as I do.”
Kyah nods and relief pounds through my chest.
“Then whatever it is that’s holding you back, we’ll work through it.”
“It’s not that simple,” she tells me. “Being with me is . . . it’s complicated. I could be putting you in danger.”
I scoff. “What? Because of those biker dudes who follow you everywhere you go?”
“You noticed that, huh?”
I lean in even closer, my lips brushing over hers. “How could I not?”
Kyah’s lips gently move with mine, kissing me back, and when she pulls away, there’s a reluctance in her bright blue eyes. “I don’t want you to get hurt because of me,” she tells me. “I’d never be able to forgive myself.”
“I can handle myself, Mace,” I tell her. “And for what it’s worth, if something were to happen to me simply for being close to you, then it’d be worth it.”
Kyah groans and shoves me back into the chair, her cheeks flushed. “You’re impossible, you know that, right?” she questions with a wide grin. I laugh as she quickly recovers and tries to get serious. “Okay, but really, what kind of tattoo do you want and where?”
My lips quirk up into a smirk. “Okay, so you know Pinocchio?” I ask, watching as her brows furrow and she slowly nods her head. “I was thinking of getting the top of his face right in the center of my groin. You know, just up to his eyes, and then the start of his nose would be where my dick is, so every time I got hard—”
Kyah’s booming laugh cuts me off. “Holy shit. Why does that image come with sound effects in my head?” she questions, shaking her head. “But for the sake of your sex life, I’m not turning your dick into Pinocchio’s nose.”
“Come on, Mace,” I tease. “You’ll be begging me to lie to you.”
“Lying to women might get you hard, but nothing’s going to dry me up faster. Besides, from my experience, I don’t need you to lie to me to get you hard. I can do that all on my own.”
Fuck. I adjust the front of my pants. All this talk of Kyah getting me hard works like magic.
Her gaze travels down my body, catching my movements, and a smirk settles across her beautiful face. “Point proven.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Alright, fine. A Pinocchio dick is off the table, but that leaves me fresh out of ideas.”
Kyah scans over my body again before her gaze comes back to meet mine, a seriousness flashing in her eyes. “For real though, are you actually down with getting a tattoo? Because you have perfect virgin skin for me to mess with, and I have this epic skull design that I’ve been working on that I think would look amazing on you.”
“Yeah?”
She nods eagerly. “Yeah, can I show you?”
Kyah scrambles off her chair, scurrying over to her desk and flipping through her designs until she finds what she’s looking for and whips back around. She strides back over to me as her eyes light up with excitement. “I picture it as a chest piece,” she explains, handing me the piece of paper.
“Fuck me,” I breathe, taking it in and instantly being blown away by Kyah’s talent. The design is of a butterfly, only it has an almost demonic gothic feel to it. The wings are beautifully haunting, each side making up the eyes of the skull while the butterfly’s body is the nose, but at the bottom of the design, the butterfly almost appears to be melting away, making up the jaw and teeth of the skull. It’s disturbingly fascinating, and despite having walked in here with no intention of getting a tattoo, I can’t possibly walk away without it.