Ink My Heart (Luminescent Juliet, Book Two)

by Jean Haus

  Finally, he shifts and kisses me fully, yet still without any other contact. I taste the chocolate and wine on his tongue as he explores my mouth. The plastic cup in my hand cracks in my tight grip, and the sound echoes between us.

  He pulls back a bit.

  “Sorry,” I mutter in embarrassment.

  With the shadow of a smile, he takes my cup and sets it next to his. Then he moves the lantern and chocolates from between us. He scoots closer and lifts me halfway into his lap. His fingers brush over the barbells in my eyebrow in a light caress. “This all right?”

  Laying across him into the crook of his arm, I let out a breathless, “Yes.”

  He bends and his lips trace my jaw while his other hand comes to rest on my stomach. His hot mouth slides along my jaw, then pauses below my ear. My head falls back as desire curls through me, a soft pulsating current under the palm across my stomach. He lightly sucks my earlobe, then kisses the line of my neck, the edge of my chin, and the corner of my mouth. Clearly seduction was on his mind, and I have to admit he’s doing one hell of a job. I turn my head, desperate for the feel of his lips on mine, but his mouth slides along my cheekbone. He buries his nose into my hair and takes a deep breath.

  Unbelievably aroused, I clutch the front of his windbreaker in a silent plea. At last his mouth finds mine. The intensity of the kiss thrusts me back, but his strong arm holds me up. Though forceful, he comes on slow and sensual, exploring me with the sweep of his tongue until I’m desperately exploring his mouth too. The long kiss immerses me completely and it’s like I’m floating. Every one of my cells is melting and becoming his to shape like clay.

  When his hand slides from my stomach to rest under my breast, I’m waiting, wanting, frantic for him to touch me there. He tears his mouth from mine, and his thumb finally brushes my nipple through my sweatshirt as he whispers in my ear, “What’s your light from the dark?”

  One word comes at me through the haze of lust. Ben. Ben keeps me from the dark and holds me in the light. I sit up in a rush. “What time is it?” I scramble out of Justin’s lap, my knees sliding on the sleeping bag as I dig into my pocket and yank out my phone. “I have to go. It’s almost midnight.”

  Staring at me with an unreadable look, Justin runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, okay.”

  “I don’t mean to…I’m sorry.”

  He recorks the wine bottle, then stands up to pack up the duffel bag. “Just don’t leave a shoe up here.”

  I put the lid back on the box of chocolates. “You seem to know that fairy tale well,” I say, holding out the box of chocolates.

  “Someone used to read to me daily. Fairy tales were included.” He points to the box. “Those are yours.”

  “Oh. Thanks,” I say stupidly, and stand. “Your mother?”

  “Huh?” he asks, snatching the blanket up.

  “The person who read to you.”

  He pauses from folding the blanket. “No…it was my nanny.”

  His odd answer keeps me silent as he finishes folding, but seriously, who has a nanny? And who remembers their nanny more than their mother?

  We pack the rest of the stuff except the lantern, which he carries to light our way as we head to the ladder. I give the view one last long look. “This was lovely. Thank you for bringing me. And for the wine and chocolates.”

  With the duffel on his shoulder and while holding the hatch open, he says, “Don’t forget about the kisses.”

  I roll my eyes, stepping toward the ladder. “Yes. Thank you for honoring me with the glorious touch of your lips.”

  He pulls me into a one-armed hug and gives me a sweet, quick kiss before brushing his lips on my forehead. “Anytime.”

  Fun. The word springs into my head as the touch of his lips lingers on my forehead. We’re having fun. With that thought, I blurt, “Let me plan next Saturday?”

  A slow smile spreads across his face as he nods.

  Going down the ladder, I’m yelling at and thanking myself for blurting the invitation.

  Chapter 14

  Allie

  The next morning, I peek into Ben’s room to find him sitting on the floor with pieces of his dump truck Erector set scattered around him. “You have thirty more minutes to play before it’s time to get dressed.” We always go to my parents’ on Sundays, and although Ben loves his grandparents, it’s best to warn him about any upcoming departure if it’s going to mean pulling him away from a building project.

  Without glancing up from his task of connecting two pieces, he asks, “How about thirty-two minutes?”

  I hide a smile behind my coffee cup in case he looks up. His five-year-old perception of time cracks me up. “All right, thirty-two minutes it is.”

  “Good.” He keeps working and I head to the kitchen. I’m rinsing cereal bowls when my phone dings. Drying my hands, I glance at the text.

  Breakfast?

  I can’t help smiling because Justin wants to see me again so soon. I reach for my phone and type out my reply.

  I wish. Super busy.

  I set my phone down, but it dings again. I grab it and head toward the bathroom to shower while reading Justin’s text.

  What are you wearing?

  I flick on the water before responding.

  Cotton.

  Come on.

  Tank top and shorts.

  White?

  Was.

  Was?

  Getting in shower.

  Are you trying to kill me?

  I’d send you a picture but they say the imagination is always better.

  They’re wrong! Send! Send! Holy hell, send!

  Gotta go. Shower’s running. :)

  Late Sunday night, after putting Ben to bed, I’m finishing my business class homework at the dining room table when another text comes in from Justin.

  How many tattoos do you have?

  A slow grin spreads across my face. Happy for the interruption, I shut my book, push it to the middle of the table, and text back.

  Wouldn’t you like to know.

  Fuck yes.

  Six.

  Where?

  A girl’s got to have her secrets.

  I’m a man on a secret mission.

  I’m busy doing laundry Monday afternoon when my phone dings in my pocket. I finish loading the washer in our little hallway closet, and before I can dig the phone out, it dings again. I’m not surprised to see Justin’s name.

  Tomorrow. Meet me at the candy shop? Oh, I mean coffee shop.

  I actually wish I could meet him. The memory of our date—and, okay, his kiss—has been sustaining me all day long, but I’m booked up with appointments through Friday. After walking into the living room and plopping down on the couch, I text back.

  Perv. Can’t. Very busy workweek.

  Damn. It’s gonna be the longest week ever. Feel like a kid waiting for X-mas morning.

  Come Saturday there’ll be no unwrapping.

  Peeking?

  You wish.

  Hell yeah.

  NO peeking.

  Licking then?

  Licking!?

  The sunflower on the back of your neck. I’ve licked it a thousand times in my imagination.

  I’ll be wearing a scarf on Saturday.

  Just a scarf?

  Shut up.

  Hours later after dinner, I tell Ben, “Time to pick up the Legos. Then hit the bathroom and brush your teeth. You’ve already had an extra ten minutes.” He lets out a sigh but at least listens and starts tossing the Legos into a bin.

  Monday bedtime sucks. I’m not sure why, maybe because it’s hard to come off the weekend, but it’s definitely the worst.

  I finish rinsing out the sink, then wrap up the chicken, broccoli, and buttered pasta that’s left over from dinner. When Holly stops in tom
orrow morning to get clean clothes and pack a lunch, she’ll make good use of it. My phone dings, and I’m expecting the text to be from Trevor, since we still need to make plans for him to pick Ben up from school tomorrow. But it’s from Justin.

  Thinking of you, wine, chocolate, and that lip ring. I’d like to suck on it right now.

  Whoa. I have things to do, like putting Ben to bed and finishing a painting for class. I don’t need images in my head of Justin sucking on my lip ring to distract me. However nice they may be.

  My fingers fly across the miniscule keypad on my phone.

  You are a mean, mean boy. Saturday is my treat, but if you keep this up we’ll be going to Mickey D’s.

  As long as they have a play place, we’re good.

  Should I even ask?

  Tight spaces, small tunnels, close proximity…

  Okay, no Mickey D’s.

  In the shop on Tuesday, I try to focus on a sketch for a new client. I bite into a chocolate chip cookie from the pack I snatched from Todd’s tattoo room and stare down at the blank paper. It’s not a very nutritious lunch, but just getting Ben to tie his shoes was an impossible task this morning, and I didn’t have time to pack any food before we rushed out the door. Nor do I have time to go out and get something. Tuesday afternoons were mostly dead in the winter, but now that spring is in the air, they’re busy. I had to race from campus to work after class for an appointment earlier, and I have another client coming in ten minutes.

  “So your brother is having Todd do his first tattoo?” Shay asks as she folds T-shirts across from my drawing table.

  I nod and pull out another cookie.

  “Why wouldn’t he have you ink him?”

  I shrug. “Probably afraid I’ll exact some kind of revenge on him.”

  Shay gives me a funny look. “You two get along great.”

  “Yeah, now. But when he was fifteen and I was eleven he used to sucker me into doing his chores,” I say, stuffing half a cookie in my mouth. My phone vibrates and after I read the text from Justin, I almost spew crumbs.

  I keep thinking about calling you, but your voice is too sexy to endure.

  I swallow the dry cookie with a gulp of coffee and text back the word that almost came out of my mouth in a screech.

  What?????

  Yup. It’s the first thing I noticed about you.

  Get out.

  Nope. Before I even laid eyes on you, the sound of your voice practically got me hard.

  I fan myself with a piece of paper. Shay raises an eyebrow at the manic speed with which I’m fanning myself. Dropping the paper, I smile weakly at her and then type out my reply while trying to sound nonchalant.

  Are you trying to text-seduce me?

  Maybe. Is it working?

  Maybe…

  My brain screams, “Liar!”—because it’s definitely working. Already I can’t wait for Saturday night. The only problem is that I can’t come up with an idea for our date. Justin used my love of art to plan our night on the rooftop. I’d like to use his love of music for ideas, but since I’m a musical moron, nothing has inspired me yet.

  The bell above the door rings as my two o’clock appointment strolls into the shop.

  Dang.

  I’m hoping I’ll have time tonight to figure out something brilliant. Something to wow Justin as much as he wowed me.

  Chapter 15

  Justin

  I’m enjoying the music blasting from the amazing stereo system in my Beemer until I see Sam pulling out his pack of cigarettes. I hit the mute button on my steering wheel and the sound dies. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Dude,” he says. “I’m doing this for you. The least you can do is let me have a smoke.”

  “Forget it.” I take an exit off the highway and start making the turns toward Dragonfly Ink. “You’re not smoking in my car.”

  Sam shoves his cigarettes back in his pocket. “Fine, but I’m smoking before we go in.”

  “Since when do you smoke all the frigging time?”

  He shrugs. “Since when do you chase chicks?”

  Ignoring him, I park just out of sight of the shop window so there’s no chance Allie will see him smoking. Strangely, I’m worried about her opinion. As soon as the bastard gets out of the car, he lights up. Like I want to stand around watching him smoke instead of seeing Allie.

  “Exactly where do I want this tattoo?” he asks, pointing his cigarette at me.

  I step back from the cloud of smoke he exhales. “I don’t know. Where would you get a tattoo?”

  He squints while he thinks. “My other arm?”

  Maybe using Sam for this surprise visit isn’t the best idea. “Then say your other arm. You’ve been killing too many brain cells lately. This doesn’t have to be scripted out, just act like you want another tattoo.”

  “Man, this girl has you wound tighter than a coke fiend. You’re even stalking her undercover.”

  “This isn’t stalking.” I just need to see her. Saturday is too long a wait. I have to know if this building connection between us is as deep as it feels, and seeing her is the only way to find out. I decided that hump day would be the perfect choice for a visit.

  “No? We’re going in there pretending I want a tattoo.”

  “You might after checking out her art.”

  “Naw. I don’t like needles. The last one was a bitch to get through. Had to down half a fifth of vodka and two joints.” He tosses his cigarette butt to the sidewalk. “Probably a good thing. Keeps me from injecting anything.”

  We start walking toward the shop. “Who the hell would ink you all fucked up?”

  “Some dude. Works out of his house.”

  “You are an idiot.”

  He nods. “Must be if I agreed to this bullshit.”

  “Don’t screw this up,” I warn, opening the door.

  Mandy is behind the counter on the phone. We wander over to the books of photos. Sam flicks one open and feigns interest in the pictures of peoples’ tattoos. I stand next to him, scrolling through my phone.

  After a few minutes, Mandy strolls over and I introduce her to Sam. She’s flirting with both of us when Allie comes out from the back with a customer. She’s looking cute, wearing pigtails and a backward baseball cap. Her eyes widen at the sight of me. I give her a grin. Her expression tightens as Mandy runs a nail along the tattoo on my left arm, but Allie doesn’t call her employee over, instead turning back to the guy with a Mohawk and leather pants. Douche.

  While Mandy giggles and checks out Sam’s tattoos, I watch Allie explain after care to the customer. He’s all attention, and I’m betting it isn’t on what’s coming out of her mouth. When he leans closer to her, I’m at the counter in seconds without a thought.

  “Hey,” I say, and Allie’s gray eyes flick to me. She gives me a curt nod but continues to explain how to care for a fresh tattoo. My eyes drill holes into the guy’s profile until he finally draws away from her. At least he’s a smart fucker.

  “Was that necessary?” she snaps when the guy finally leaves.

  “What?” I say innocently.

  Her pierced brow rises. “Intimidating my customer.”

  My hand spreads across my chest. “Me?”

  She rolls her eyes. “So what brings you out today?”

  “Sam’s considering adding some more ink.” I gesture toward the front of the shop. He’s paging through a photo book with Mandy.

  “Custom?” Allie asks.

  “Yeah, that’s the direction he’s thinking.” Sam isn’t thinking shit.

  She glances their way again. “Well, since you’re here, can I take a picture of your back?”

  My lips form a slow and deliberate smirk. “Trying to get my clothes off?”

  Her balled-fist settles on a jean-clad hip. “Just your shirt.” />
  “Whatever you want,” I say, lifting the bottom of my shirt.

  One of her hands covers mine. “Not here. Follow me out back. The light’s always best outside.”

  I grab her hand and hold it tight. “Not until we’re alone, huh?”

  “Yeah,” she says in a sarcastic tone, pulling her hand from my grasp. “Alone in the romantic parking lot.”

  “I like your sense of adventure.”

  Shaking her head, she moves toward the hallway that leads to the tattooing rooms. “Let me just grab the camera,” she says.

  I wait while she ducks into a small room with a desk. She comes out holding an expensive digital camera. I hold the door open to the parking lot and we walk outside together into the bright afternoon.

  “Okay,” she says, pointing to the brick wall. “Take off your shirt here and—”

  “Here? It’s kind of cold and exposed. I can’t believe you want to get busy here.”

  She points at the wall. “Get busy? Dream on. As for the cold, it’s over fifty degrees out. Models work half-naked in the Arctic Circle. So, tough guy, get rid of the shirt.”

  Grinning, I yank my shirt off.

  She lifts the camera. “Now face the wall.”

  I turn around and stare at the brick. “I like it when you’re bossy. So many possibilities.”

  “You are impossible,” she mutters. I hear the click of the camera several times along with a car driving past the parking lot.

  “Okay, you can put your shirt back on,” she says, her voice silky smooth.

  With my shirt still hanging in my hand, I turn around. “That’s it?”

  Eyes sparkling, she nods. “That’s it.”

  Suddenly, Mandy whips open the back door. “School just called. Your son is sick. Vomiting and the works apparently.”

  Nearly dropping the camera, Allie races back into the shop while Mandy’s phrase “your son” sends shock waves through my head.

  Mandy ogles my naked torso. “Did she get a picture of the front too?”