She searched his face. “Do you really want to hear this?”
He drew imaginary circles over her shoulder and seemed in no hurry to bolt. “I really want to hear this.”
“I moved out of my parents’ house when I was nineteen. It was such a freeing experience for me, because before then there was my parents and Mick and Gavin.”
His lips quirked. “A lot of supervision, huh?”
She sat up and scooted back against the pillows. “Like you wouldn’t believe. I was taking college classes, so I spent the first semester at the dorms. Hated that. The girls were all bitches, into their social worlds and clubs and partying all the time. It didn’t take me long to figure out college life was not for me. The partying was too heavy and too loud and too all the damn time. I was one of those rare freshmen who was interested in getting an actual education. I couldn’t study, so I moved back home. Huge mistake.”
“Because once you’re out, you can’t go back?”
She laughed. “Yes. That was it exactly. I couldn’t live with rules and people breathing down my neck anymore. Not that I was out there being wild or crazy or anything. Not then, anyway. I just needed my own space. So I got an apartment and lived alone for the first time in my life.”
“That must have been fun.”
“It was.”
“And then did you party?”
She laughed again. “Hard. Nothing like that taste of freedom with no restrictions. So much for me ragging on the hard partiers at the dorm. I was such a hypocrite when I ended up doing the same thing as soon as I got my own place.”
“Yeah. Been there. But eventually you have to grow up and be responsible.”
“True. And it didn’t take long for my grades to slip and for me to realize that college life wasn’t for me.”
“Is that how you ended up at the bar?”
“More or less. I dropped out of college after my second year, took a year off to travel and clear my head.”
“Where did you go?”
“Went up to Canada with some friends, then over to Paris, Germany, and then London. More wild and crazy times.”
He rubbed her wrist, then trailed his finger up her arm to where her banded tribal tattoo circled her biceps. “Is that where all the tattoos came from?”
She shivered at his touch. “Here and there.”
He sat up and swept his index finger over her shoulder, across her neck, and behind her ear, fingering the piercings in her ear. “And what about these?”
“It was a whim.”
“I like them. They’re sexy.”
She liked him touching her ear. She liked him touching her anywhere.
“And the tats? Were those whims, too?”
“They all mean something to me.” She held out her arm. “The sun, moon, and stars remind me that no matter where I am, my family is always looking at the same sun, the same moon, and the same stars. It comforted me when I set out on my own and when I traveled all those years. Despite wanting my freedom and this big sense of adventure I had, eventually I got homesick. That’s when I got the tattoo.”
He circled her upper arm. “This one?”
“The tribal band on my arm was a bonding experience with friends in England.”
“Now tell me about the dragon.”
She smiled. “He’s my protector. I had a really good friend who was a tattoo artist. I’d known him since high school, and I loved his art. He drew it for me and I fell in love with Edgar at that moment, knew I’d have to have him on me.”
Tyler arched a brow. “Edgar?”
Her lips lifted. “That’s his name.”
“You named your dragon Edgar?”
“Shut up.”
“Roll over onto your stomach and let me look at him.”
She frowned. “You’re not going to make fun of me, are you? Edgar is special to me.”
He cupped her chin and kissed her. “Jenna, I’d never make fun of something that means so much to you.”
Her stomach clenched again. Damn this man for getting to her.
She was still kicking him to the curb after tonight. He wasn’t the right guy for her.
“Now get on your stomach so I can see it. Him.”
She smiled. “Okay.”
TYLER SWALLOWED. WITH JENNA’S HAIR SHORT, THIS tattoo had always teased him. Without getting close to her, he could only catch glimpses of color and parts of a shape here and there, but he never knew what it was, only that it was green and wrapped partially around her neck. It was like a tease, because she often wore jewelry that hid the tat, which only made him want to see more.
And now that he could, now that he had her naked…
Of course now that he had her naked, he could think of a hundred other things he wanted to do to her body, but he still wanted to see the tattoo.
The tail wrapped around the nape of her neck, the tip ending at the side of her throat. It grew slightly thicker below her neck and weaved around the bumps of her spine.
Whoever had done the art was damn good, because it looked like it was moving. He traced it with his fingers, the color and drawing so realistic he expected to feel the dragon’s scales.