I back away from the desk, my heart pounding uncontrollably in my chest.
Of all the fucking places for him to be. Why does it have to be here?
Just when I thought I was going to take control of just a small part of my life, there he is turning it upside down again.
Sledge’s chin drops as I move toward the door, but the second Corey steps out from the shadows, my body freezes.
“I’ve got this.”
Sledge looks between the two of us, concern written all over his face, and for a moment, he refuses to move.
“Sledge,” Corey barks, effectively forcing him to leave. “Well, well, well, look who it is.”
Dread fills my stomach, thinking that he’s angry with me for leaving like I did. I don’t know why I care, and that pisses me off more than anything.
“I had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to stay away.”
“What? No, that’s not what…” He rounds the desk, his eyes running the length of my body. I can read his thoughts as if they’re my own. He’s imagining last night.
Fuck. This was a massive fucking mistake.
“I… I…” I stutter, wishing I was closer to the door so I could escape.
Sadly, Corey has other ideas.
“I think we should go and discuss that tattoo you want.”
“N-No, it’s okay. I just stopped in on a whim aaaand—” I squeal as his fingers wrap around my wrist and he pulls me into him.
He stares at me for a beat before his head moves closer. For a second I think he’s going to kiss me, but then he moves to the side so his lips brush my ear.
“I’m not letting you run so easily this time, Vixen.”
I try to swallow, but there’s something clogging my throat.
“Come on.” He doesn’t allow me to argue. Instead he tugs me toward his room. I’ve no choice but to follow.
He shuts the door behind him, and I find myself in almost an identical room to the reception, only instead of a couch there’s a tattoo chair. Artwork still covers the walls, and in my need to look away from him, to break what’s crackling between us, I focus on it.
My eyes flick over the incredible work before landing on something very familiar. I remember tracing this heart engulfed in flames last night. It’s on his chest. I reach out to run my finger over it, but his words stop me.
“I thought I was going to have to work harder to find you again. You really are making it easy for me.”
“I had no idea you’d be here.”
“Really?” he asks, his voice accusatory, making me turn to look at him.
His eyes are wide with suspicion, but they’re also full of heat. As he stares at me, he’s remembering everything that happened between us last night. I can almost see it playing out in his mind.
My cheeks flush, my temperature soaring, but that’s not the most noticeable thing. That’s the desire that races through me, begging me to give him another shot.
My hands tremble as my head and body war over what I should do. My head says leave, but my legs refuse, and I stay exactly where I am.
“W-why would I know you were here?” I ask, confused. Clearly last night’s whisky is still having an effect, because it should be obvious, really.
“My job isn’t a secret, Harlow. Most people here know what I do.”
The image of Bailey so helpfully giving me this address pops into my mind.
She fucking knew.
“I’ve been set up, haven’t I?”
“I’ve no idea, Vixen. But I’m glad to see you.”
“Really? Why?”
He takes a step toward me and doesn’t stop until I bump up against the wall and he’s right in my personal space. His woodsy scent fills my nose, and the heat from his wide chest burns into me.
“Because we have unfinished business.”
“D-do we?” I thought my actions this morning would have drawn a line under anything between us. Maybe I was wrong.
“I woke up this morning with one thing on my mind. But when I opened my eyes, you weren’t there.”
His eyes search mine. I have no idea what he’s trying to find, or if he manages it or not. To be honest, I think I’d rather not know.
“Our time was done.”
“Huh,” he says, taking a step back and turning away from me. “I thought maybe I’d left a little more of an impression on you than that.”
I miss his closeness the second the cool air surrounds my body.
“It was what it was,” I admit, regret flooding me.
“An hour or so ago, I was on my way to believing that. But now here you are. Do you believe in fate, Vix?”
“Yes.”
“Well then, we clearly aren’t done, are we? Now, you came here for a reason, and I’m more than happy to give you what you need. Hop up on the chair.”
“No.”
“No?”
“I… um… I’m not sure about…”
“Do you know what you want?”
“Y-yes but—”
“Do you have a reason for it?”
“Yes.”
“A reason good enough that you’d never regret it being permanently on your skin?”
“Yes.”
“Good, now hop on,” he repeats.
I take a hesitant step toward his chair as he drops down onto a little wheeled stool. His jeans stretch across his wide thighs before his inked arms rest on his knees as he waits for me to make a decision.
I’ve wanted this tattoo for years. I know I’d never regret it. But one, I’m scared of the pain, and two, I’m even more scared of the man who might deliver it.
Since I sorted myself out, I’ve not exactly had many dealings with men. I’ve been out on a few dates, none of which inspired me to want a second, but the moment I looked at Corey, I knew something was different.
My mom always told my sister and I about how she fell in love with Dad the moment she saw him and that love at first sight really does exist. I always waved her off, because I didn’t believe her. Now, I’m not saying I fell in love with Corey in Rush on Friday night, that’s crazy, but something was different to the men I’d met before. Is it something worth exploring? I’ve no idea. But I have a feeling right now that he’s not going to allow me out of this room until I get another chance to find out.
“Jesus, Harlow, it’s like I’ve just committed you to the death sentence. I’m not going to force this thing on you. I’ve got plenty of other uses for this chair, you know.”
I run my eyes over the black leather and picture myself laid out on it while he… Nope, stop it. Those kinds of thoughts are not going to help right now.
I sit on the edge, as far away from him as possible. He chuckles at my attempt to keep some space between us and rolls himself over until his knees cage my legs in.
He drops his hand to a lever beneath his ass and lifts so our eyes are in line.
“So, what did you have in mind for your body?”
My breath catches at his deep, rumbling voice. He almost makes me forget my reason for coming here in the first place.
“I’ve… um… got a drawing.”
“You really have planned this.”
“It’s been some time coming,” I admit. “I’m scared of needles, so I usually run out of the parlor before I get that close.”
“It’s probably nothing like you’re expecting.” His large, burning hand lands on the bare skin of my thigh. “I can’t promise that it won’t hurt. But I’ve ways of making up for it after.” His hand pushes higher.
Desire burns through me, and I have to bite back the suggestion of forgetting the tattoo so he can just distract me instead.
No, Harlow. Not again.
What is it about this man that makes me forget everything I’ve tried so hard to overcome and throw myself head-first back into a life I regret?
It’s not the same. You are not the same. He wants you, and not just for a quick fuck. Bailey’s voice pops into my head.
“What
do you want from me?” The question is out before I even realize it. Embarrassment burns my cheeks as his eyes widen in shock.
“I... uh…” He hesitates as he tries to figure out where I’m going with this. “Honestly,” he says, holding my stare, “right now, I’ll take whatever you’ll give me.”
Chapter Ten
Corey
“Right now, I’ll take whatever you’ll give me.” I rear back a little. Did those words just actually come out of my mouth?
Fucking hell, get your shit together, man.
She stares back at me, shadows clouding her eyes, but they lighten slightly as my words register.
If I had time to think about an answer, I would have told her that I just wanted a little more of last night. That’s what I’d usually say, and all I’m usually willing to give, but my subconscious has clearly decided that’s not everything I’m willing to give this woman.
“So…” She hesitates, and I hate that I’m making her question herself right now. “You didn’t just want me for one hot night?”
“Fuck,” I grunt, remembering last night and just how hot it really was. Do I want more of that? Fuck yeah. But is that all I want?
The fact that I’m asking myself these questions pisses me off. I should be screaming that yes, sex is all I want. It’s all I’ve got the time and energy for. But the thought of her walking away because that offer isn’t good enough has me panicking. Last night wasn’t enough, I’ve come to terms with that, but I’m not in a place where I can seriously consider anything more.
“If you’re asking if I want a repeat, then hell yeah. Last night was mind-blowing. If you’re asking if that’s all I want then… honestly, I don’t know. My life is… complicated.”
“Right.” She pushes to the edge of the chair and I panic.
“But…” She looks up at me, hope filling her eyes, “I’d like to spend more time with you,” I admit, and really, it’s not hard to do so. This woman is pretty incredible. On the outside she seems like one thing, but close that bedroom door and she’s someone else entirely. I can’t lie and say I don’t want to find out what makes her tick.
“Not just in the bedroom?”
“How about we do what we need to do here, then I’ll take you for dinner. How’s that sound?”
A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth before she remembers something. “I might run before we get that far.”
I lean forward, both my hands running up her thighs, my fingers dipping under the hem of her dress and whisper, “It’s okay, I’ve locked the door.” I must admit that it comes out sounding a little more sinister than I was expecting, but when she shudders beneath my palms it seems she missed it.
She nods, turning to her bag beside her.
I sit back as she pulls a battered piece of paper from inside and unfolds it. She stares at it for a moment before sucking in a breath and passing it over.
I love nothing more than doing a tattoo for someone that means something. Some of them are so personal that it’s like they’re exposing a piece of themselves to me just for that small amount of time, even if they’re too scared to do it to anyone else. And that’s exactly how I feel when I take hold of the paper.
I didn’t need to hear the conviction in her tone when she responded to my question about this being important to her earlier, I could sense it.
I hold her eyes for a second before ripping them away and down to her drawing.
It’s a dandelion with the seeds drifting off, nothing too out of the ordinary, but as I look closer the seeds that are flying away have names in them.
Looking back up at her, I find tears pooling in her dark eyes.
“It’s okay. I’m not going to make you talk about it if you don’t want to. I’m not a therapist, although not all my clients are aware of that,” I add, thinking about the weird and wonderful things people have told me over the years.
“I’m sorry,” she says, looking to the other side of the room and lifting her hands to wipe her eyes.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Reaching out, I gently press my fingers to her cheek and move her eyes back to mine.
“We don’t have to do this now if you don’t want. We could always plan it for a future date.” The fact that I’ve just offered to date this woman in a roundabout way isn’t lost on me, but it doesn’t panic me like I would have thought it might.
“No. I need to do this. I’ve run scared too many times. And… rightly or wrongly, I trust you.”
My chest constricts at her words, making my breath catch. I’ve not heard those words for years, and they take me back to a time that needs to stay locked in the box I’ve put it in.
Swallowing down the lump she’s caused in my throat, I focus on the task at hand.
“Okay, so where are we doing this?”
“On my back, up my spine with the seeds on my shoulder blades.”
“That’s probably going to hurt.”
“I know. I can handle it. Just promise me you’ll be gentle.”
My eyes bounce between hers. “Always.”
“So… what’s next?” she asks nervously.
“You’re going to need to show me some skin.” I wiggle my eyebrows as a wicked grin curls at my lips.
“Ah, I see. This is all a play to get me naked again.”
“It’s your fault. You could have asked for it on your leg.”
She stands before me, my knees still either side of hers. There are only inches between us, but it seems her inner vixen has found its way past the nerves.
Wrapping her fingers around the hem of her dress, she pulls it upwards.
I’m powerless but to watch as she reveals her perfect milky skin to me. Biting down on my bottom lip, I run my eyes up the curve of her hip, over the black lace covering her and up her slim waist.
My cock swells as she lifts it higher, revealing her bra-encased breasts. I curse the padding that’s stopping me from seeing her perfect rosebud nipples. I bet they’re pert right now.
As the fabric clears her head, her red hair falls back down around her shoulders.
The silence in the room is heavy as we stare at each other with chemistry crackling between us. She’s right there in touching distance. All I’d have to do is lean forward and I could feel her soft skin.
“C-Corey?” The slight waver in her voice proves that she’s maybe not as confident right now as she appears.
“Fuck.” I scrub my hands down my face and over my rough jaw.
“Don’t you want to…” She reaches for her dress that’s been discarded on the end of the chair.
“No,” I say, standing and wrapping my fingers around her wrist, stopping her from picking it back up. “I’m just really fucking glad Sledge didn’t get to do this.”
I lean forward and she gasps, her pupils dilating. I know she thinks I’m about to kiss her, but as much as I might want to do exactly that, I know I can’t. Not yet, anyway. I’ve got a job to do, and I need to keep my head in the game and not just think with my cock.
Reaching out, I hit the button on the chair to flatten it.
She jumps in front of me as the movement startles her.
“Lie down on your front,” I whisper in her ear. She shudders as my breath tickles down her neck and goosebumps prick her skin.
“O-Okay,” she breathes.
Reluctantly, I take a step back and watch as she does as I say. My fists clench with my need, but I stay put. I’ve got a job to do. So what if I want to fuck my client into next week? I’m a professional.
She pulls her hair over her shoulder and looks at me. I drop my eyes down her back and stop on her lace-covered arse.
Jesus fucking Christ. Why couldn’t she have at least been wearing trousers? I hate to do it, but I turn around and grab a blanket that I’ve got folded up on the side. I shake it out and cover her from the waist down.
“I don’t want you getting cold,” I mumble as an excuse. Of course I want her to be comfortable, but this is as much for my own comfort a
s it is hers.
With her eyes still on me, I make a show of rearranging myself just so she knows exactly what the sight of her almost naked body does to me before turning around to sort out my kit.
I’d tidied up after my client left, thinking that I was done for the day. How wrong I was.
After settling myself beside her, I look over her smooth, flawless skin. Excitement tingles just below the surface. I love getting my hands on a virgin.
“I’m glad I get to be your first,” I murmur, much to her amusement. “So, starting here,” I press my finger against the skin of her lower back, and I swear to fucking God that an electric current shoots up my arm. If her surprised gasp is anything to go by, I’d say she felt it too. “And then finish about up here?” I walk my fingers up her back and delight in the shudder that runs through her.
“Y-yes.”
“You’re going to need to stay still.”
“Then you’d better stop tickling.”
Silence descends as I get her ready for the needle.
“Did you draw this?” I ask, looking at her sketch sitting on my little table.
“Yeah. I know I won’t be winning any awards anytime soon.”
“I’ve seen a lot worse,” I chuckle, picking up my machine and turning it on. She tenses beneath me at the sound. “So if art’s not your thing, what are you good at?” I ask, hoping I can distract her a little.
“Um… I’m not sure I have a talent, to be honest. Ow, fuck,” she moans as I touch skin for the first time.
“I’d beg to differ. I think you’re very talented.”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment,” she mutters.
“Why not? I think you’re a fantastic dancer.” She laughs, and I’m forced to stop what I’m doing as her body giggles. The soft sound is too good to make her stop.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” she says when she realises she’s making my life hard.
“Are you doing okay?”
“Yeah, I’m not regretting it yet.”
“Life’s too short for regrets.” I don’t know why I say it, because the reality is that I spend most of my days drowning in mine.
“So you’d think.” The sadness in her voice pulls at something inside me.
Inked: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World) Page 9
