“I must say, I’m a little shocked.”
Savannah nearly choked on her sip of wine. She forced it down and laughed. “Believe me, if I had told them straight up when I found out I was pregnant, I don’t think they would have had the same reaction. My dad might have gone straight for the gun collection and you might have had to skip town. I guess, even though me not telling you probably wasn’t the right thing to do, it made it a little easier now. They’ve had time to get used to the idea. They know Carter and love him and want what’s best for him.”
“I get that. I’m just glad I don’t have to skip town now. I had no idea your parents didn’t know we were dating before.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Was I really so bad that you couldn’t tell them?”
“You know why I couldn’t tell them. I tried to explain that. I really was trying to do you a favor. My dad isn’t overprotective exactly, but he would have been pretty pissed about us.” Savannah drained the last of her wine. She’d had two almost full glasses and her eyes were a little glazed over.
He realized that she probably hadn’t had so much as a drop of alcohol in over a year. He couldn’t help himself, he stared at her face, lost himself in her dark eyes. She didn’t look away. She didn’t say anything at all. He knew the second her eyes changed, because even after a year, he still knew her. He still recognized the flames of passion creeping up, the spark of desire.
“We can work on the semantics of schedules and visits later,” he said thickly. He took a breath, debating with himself, before he finally just took the chance of a lifetime and dared to ask what had been on his mind for a year. “What about now,” he dared to ask. He didn’t really want to hear the answer. He prepared himself for a no. For an it’s too complicated. For a hard rejection. “Do you think there’s any hope for us? For a second chance?”
Savannah’s gaze never wavered. Her velvet brown eyes burned into him, giving him hope he didn’t exactly deserve to feel. She wasn’t promising him anything, yet she’d come to the shop. She’d come to his house. She was there now, sitting there staring at him like she used to, as open an invitation as he’d ever seen.
“I believe,” she whispered. “That I’m a little bit drunk.”
“Is that a no?” Disappointment began to creep into his heart, seep into his bloodstream and flood his limbs with a heavy, dead pain.
“No. It’s not a no.” It was all she got out before he shoved his chair back. She stood at the same time and when they met, it wasn’t so much as a coming together, but a crashing together, two forces reuniting, tangling, crushing.
Chapter 10
Illicit Pleasures
Savannah
Illicit pleasures were often sweetest. Kissing Mike, oh god, she was drowning in his kiss, his lips, the feel of his hands on her waist. Her head swam and she wasn’t sure it was all just the wine.
She broke away, breaking raggedly. “Mike… I-”
“Savannah,” he whispered brokenly. Her name on his lips was the headiest of wine, a drink that was far more potent than anything to be found in a bottle.
“What are we doing? We shouldn’t be doing this?”
“No? I could have met you anywhere, but you came here.”
“Because you asked me to.”
“You could have picked a different meeting place.”
“No,” she gasped. It was too much, far too fast. She wasn’t prepared for the way he affected her. He made her feel like a woman, and she wanted to be a woman again. She wanted to be touched and held, to be electrified, to be ignited in the way that only Mike had ever done for her.
She leaned into him anyway, the slightest brush of their bodies sending sparks shooting through her veins, soaring through her blood. Fire licked its way over her limbs. Mike was the only man who had ever meant anything to her. He was the only man who she had ever truly wanted. She’d been so afraid of it once that she’d ran away, ran away and tried to keep herself safe.
It hadn’t worked.
“Tell me, Savannah, right now. Tell me to stop and I’ll stop. You can leave if it’s too fast. You can leave if you don’t want it…”
“It’s not that easy,” she whispered, aware of how dangerously close his lips were to hers. His breath was warm on her cheek. She watched his lips move so very sweetly as he formed every single word.
“I know it’s complicated, but I can’t help but want you. You’re so beautiful. You’ve always been so beautiful. I’ve thought about you this entire year. I’ve remembered everything. Do you know how many times I’ve picked up a brush to paint and started and I realize, hours later, that I’ve painted your face? That when I sketch, it’s you, it’s always part of you. I see you always. You’re always with me.”
“It’s different now-”
“I know. So let it be different. I’ll let you leave, if that’s what you want.”
She hated his self-control in that moment, hated his sacrifice, hated that he cared about her enough to give her exactly what she wanted and needed. He gave her an out that she could have taken. She could have walked out the door and been safe, but she already knew that her heart could never truly be safe from him.
“I can’t leave,” she whispered thickly. “I just… can’t.”
“And that is what you truly want?”
The heavy silence swirled around them for a moment before she could finally answer. “Yes. It’s what I’ve always wanted.” She wasn’t even sure she had forced out the words or if she’d just thought them until Mike’s face changed. His features tightened and his eyes glowed. She knew that he wanted her. God, that she’d just given him permission when he would have held himself back. For her. He would have done it for her.
He was frozen, unmoving, as though he couldn’t believe what she’d just said. She had to reach out and run her fingers along the warm, smooth edge of his jaw and bring his face back to hers.
When their lips met, they were hungry, passionate. She moaned into the kiss and relaxed as his arms swept around her waist, her chest, her back, holding her, drawing her even closer. One leg parted her thighs as he stepped into her. Her breasts crushed against his chest, the contact sending a thousand aching shivers through her body, her aching nipples chaffing unbearably against her bra and her clothing.
One hand swept behind her head, his fingers tangling in her long hair. The ringlets had a slight amount of hairspray in them to keep their shape and she winced when his finger snagged on a knot. He didn’t stop. He fisted her hair, pulling her head back to give him better access to her mouth.
His tongue swept into her mouth and she soared higher, the erotic ache growing, sweeping her under where sense and fear had no bearing. Her hips ground into his, crushing their bodies together. She hated the clothing between them, the layers that stopped her from truly feeling him.
She felt like she’d been waiting an entire lifetime for his touch.
He moved then, still kissing her, but he forced her to step back with the pressure of his knee. He did it again and she realized he was trying to steer her out of the kitchen.
She broke the kiss and smiled up shyly at him. He arched a brow before he gripped her hand. She let him lead her from the kitchen, down the hall to his room.
It hadn’t changed one bit. She knew every nuance, every piece of furniture, even the plain black duvet on the bed. She knew the weight of it, what it would feel like against her skin.
He didn’t turn on the light and she was relieved, though enough light spilled in through the slats in the blinds and from the hall to illuminate the not so perfect spots of her.
The fact was, the room was still the same. The house was still the same. They’d changed. Or at least, she had. She knew Mike had too. It had been a year. Life didn’t just stand still. He was a different person than he’d been when they were there last.
“Savannah?” He stepped into her, the massive strength of his body sending a flood of relief and a feeling of safety sweeping through her.
She relaxed slightly.
“I…” She looked into his dark eyes. She realized his lips were redder than normal, from kissing her. His face was wild, hard need on his features, in his eyes, but she knew if she asked him to, he would still let her leave. “I- I’m not perfect anymore,” she whispered, heat flooding her cheeks. She was glad it was dark in the room so he couldn’t see just how wild her blush was.
“Perfect?” He stared back at her in question.
“Yes- I… I’ve had a baby. I’m going to be different. It’s not going to feel the same.”
She was so afraid that when he looked at her naked, he’d change his mind. That he wouldn’t want her after all. He stepped back, his lips parted, as though he wanted to say something, but couldn’t. He didn’t move, so she slowly slid her sweater off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She lifted the hem of her own dress, up over her shoulders, past her face. She cast it aside as well and stood, bathed in the golden glow of light drifting through the open door.
Mike’s eyes swept over her hungrily, hotly, warming her from the inside out. When he reached out, she wanted to step back, to pull away. She closed her eyes, hating that she was no longer perfecta and now he saw every single mark.
“You mean these?” His thumb swept over her stomach, so gently, little more than a whisper of touch. She shivered violently as he caressed the silvery marks.
“Yes. I hate them.”
“They’re beautiful.”
She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. “No they’re not. Stop trying to be kind.” When she opened her eyes she found Mike staring at her, not at the marks, at her. The softness in his eyes was almost unbearable. Unbelievably enough, he meant what he said.
“You don’t think they’re disgusting?”
“No. They’re badges of honor. I know you think they’re imperfect, because they’re on you, but you carried our child here. You gave him life. You did that all on your own. That’s a miracle, Savannah. Life is a miracle.”
“That sounds like some crazy infomercial or something.”
Mike laughed softly. “I’m serious.”
“You haven’t even met him. Maybe he’s a brat and you won’t like him.”
“Not possible.” He placed his entire palm on her stomach, right above her black lace panties, underwear which were way too fancy for just a late night talk about child custody. She had to admit he’d probably seen far worse scars. Mike had done a few mastectomy cover ups, she knew. He’d covered C-section scars, other people’s stretch marks, other surgery scars. To him, the body was probably much more clinical that it was to her. People weren’t canvases. Her skin was something she lived in every single day. “Stop. I can tell what you’re thinking. It’s not like that when I look at you. I see you, Savannah. I’ve always seen you.” His words terrified and healed her all at once.
“Would you cover them up for me, one day? If I asked you to?”
Mike hedged. “Why? They’re hardly noticeable. I know to you they are probably glaring, but to me, you’re glorious. You’re as beautiful, if not more, than you’ve always been. I don’t see the scars, Savannah. That’s just life, your story. You’re always going to be beautiful to me, no matter what.”
“You’re just being kind?”
His eyes flared, something rich and deep and frightening entering their depths. His hand swept to her hip and tightened. “Oh? You want to see just how kind I’m being?”
When his lips crashed down to hers, crushing hers, sweeping her breath away, she knew he wasn’t lying. She could taste his desire for her, smell it, feel it surging from his blood to hers. She couldn’t doubt it any longer. She couldn’t doubt that he meant what he said and that to him, she truly was perfect.
Chapter 11
Eternity
Mike
He’d waited so very long for this moment. He wanted to do everything at once. Taste, caress, relearn every single curve and edge and plain. And she thought she was no longer perfect?
Mike moaned into her mouth as their tongues met. His hands closed around her hips and he swept her up. Her long legs tangled around his hips and he walked them to the bed. He set her down gently. She inhaled raggedly as he broke the kiss, as her back hit the bed. She moved up, waiting, her glorious body displayed for his eyes only.
The only thing wrong was that she was still wearing that damn bra and those panties. He would fix that.
Mike never wore the dress shirt he’d decided to throw on. He completely forgot that it was buttons and not snaps, as he normally preferred. When he went to tear away his shirt, a few buttons rained down on the floor, clattering against the hardwood as they hit and rolled.
Savannah tensed, eyes wide. Mike froze. He glanced down at the damaged shirt and then more slowly, controlled, he worked the remaining four buttons free. He shed it quickly, went for his jeans next. He kicked them aside, along with his boxers.
When his gaze flew back to Savannah’s face, her eyes were still wide, as though she’d never seen him naked before.
The prospect of being with her again, being inside of her sent wild sensations soaring through his bloodstream. He’d thought about this, dreamed about it, woke sweating and aching and needing her, and now she was there, there just for him.
“Take off your panties,” he said thickly. He watched as her hands moved slowly and stripped away the lace underthings, down her thighs, over her knees, off her ankles. He made a sound, when she was bared to him, a sound that was more animal than human. He didn’t have to ask her to take off the bra. She sat up and it took only a second for her to shed it.
Her breasts, god, her breasts were glorious. Fuller, round globes with dark nipples which were already hard little peaks.
He couldn’t wait any longer. God, he needed her more than anything he’d ever needed in his life. Crave wasn’t the right word, but it was the only word he could think of to accurately describe the hard need flooding his veins.
“Beautiful,” he whispered as he knelt on the edge of the bed. “You are perfect in every single way.”
She opened her mouth, tried to protest, but his hands wrapped around her thighs, cutting off her words. He caressed the warmth of her skin, every inch a heady aphrodisiac to his wild need. Her legs fell open to him, exposing her glistening pussy.
“God, baby, you’re already soaked.”
She made a noise in the back of her throat, half a gasp, half a strangled sort of agreement. She whimpered when he moved his hands around and cupped the rounded swells of her ass. She tried to move away, tried to inch up the bed, but he held her close. He lowered his head and tasted her and all that squirming away ceased.
She was glorious, ambrosia on his tongue, dripping down his throat. He slid his tongue along her heated, swollen folds, lapping at her juices, her arousal. It was all for him. It was his alone.
Her little gasp of pleasure became a whimper again as he curled his tongue and slid through her folds to her entrance. He stuck the tip of his tongue inside of her and she went wild, her hips bucking, her hand fisting in his short hair. There wasn’t much to grab onto, but she managed to fill her fingers anyway. He liked the sharp pain that emanated from his skull.
Mike tasted all of her before he even dared to dance over her clit. He applied just the slightest pressure. She moaned, her hips rising into his face and falling back to the bed. He loved the sounds she made, the taste of her. She was perfect, perfect in every single way. He barely resisted reaching up and slipping a finger inside of her. It would be too much and he wanted to keep her like she was for a while longer, straining, panting, reaching for her pleasure.
He moved his face away. Immediately the hand fisted in his hair tried to bring him back, but he glanced up and smiled wickedly. “I told you. Perfect. So perfect.”
She moaned as he dipped his face and trailed hot kisses over her stomach. Despite the fact that she’d just had a child, it was almost flat. The only visible evidence were those thin silvery lines that she obvious
ly hated so much. They were barely noticeable, but he found them to be just another beautiful part of her.
Her body was made for miracles. She’d grown a life inside of her, his son. That made her mysterious, glorious, a damn goddess, in his mind.
His lips found the first silvery scar, barely longer than an inch. He kissed it sweetly before he moved on and did the rest. She gasped at the contact, the action unbearably intimate. He didn’t stop there. He licked and kissed his way up her body, until he found her breast. He suckled one nipple, until she was writhing under him, her hands on his shoulders, her nails digging in, leaving sweet little crescent marks.
Finally he pulled away, when her pants filled the room, when her entire body was tight and straining under his. He lifted his face and looked into her hazy, passion filled eyes. “You are glorious. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I’m not ashamed to admit just how much I want you. You could send me into oblivion in a second.”
He reached up and captured her hand. He took it from his shoulder and guided her touch downward, to his aching cock. The second her lithe, tapered fingers closed around him, his entire body jerked. Pinpricks of excitement raced through his bloodstream. He groaned, the sound echoing sharply throughout the room.
She jerked at the sound, her hand closing around his shaft even tighter. She moved it sweetly, running her fingers over him, smearing his arousal down his entire length.
“I forgot how big you were,” she gasped.
She’s going to kill me. She’s actually going to kill me right here, saying things like that. It took every single ounce of self-restraint not to come in her damn hand. He rolled his hips forward and back, couldn’t help himself. God, he wanted to be inside of her.
“I’m… I’m not on the pill,” Savannah whispered. “I was before, but I got pregnant anyway.”
Hot Ink: All 3 Tattoo Shop Romance Books + 2 Exclusive Bonus Stories Page 18
