He shrugged and kissed her thumb anyway. “I think it makes my lips pop, don’t you?”
She threw back her head and laughed, aware his hands were still on her ass. “It accentuates your skin tone for sure. But really, sorry it’s all over your lips. I didn’t wear the stain today since I like to try different things, but I guess I’m not used to having to worry about rubbing it off on another person’s body.”
He licked his lips, his eyes on her own. “Oh, really…what part of my body are you thinking of putting your lips on?”
She lowered her head so she could run her teeth along his earlobe. When he shuddered against her, she bit down slightly. “Where do you want my lips?”
His grip on her tightened, and she let out a happy sigh. “Anywhere you want them, Hails. Anywhere you want them.” He squeezed her again but didn’t move her closer. “Before we get naked and show each other exactly where we want to put our lips, though, I want to work on your ink. I have a few ideas sketched, but I can’t do much more without your input and without tracing your outline.”
She gulped but nodded. Her body cooled somewhat—not that it ever completely cooled in Sloane’s presence. They were in his home office because he’d wanted to do the outlining in private. Eventually, when he did the actual ink, he’d close off part of the shop so it would just be the two of them and no one would see if she didn’t want them to. While that was standard practice for intimate tattoos, she still loved the fact that he took care of her.
She also hadn’t been to Sloane’s that often, so it was nice to see where he lived, be among his things. It wasn’t a large place, and frankly a little stark, but it smelled of him. And except for the construction work in the bathroom where it looked like he was redoing tiles, everything seemed to be in order.
And if she thought about tiling a bathroom, she wouldn’t have to think about the fact that they were about to outline her chest so she could get the tattoo she’d wanted for years.
Sloane moved his hands to cup her face. “Hails.”
She blinked at him.
“We don’t have to do this now. We don’t have to do this ever. The ink you get is for you. Yeah, I might see it when your shirt is off, but anything we do from here on out is for you.”
The way he said that made her pause. Might? Did that mean he might not see her once it was done?
She forced those thoughts from her head and focused on him. “I want to. It’s just a lot. You know?”
He brushed her cheek with his thumb. “I know. And we don’t have to do anything today. We can just make out.”
She winked, some of the tension going out of her shoulders. “Can we make out after?”
“It’s a deal.” He kissed her softly then turned her around so she sat in his lap. She could feel his erection under her, but neither of them said anything about it. Not yet.
“So you already did some sketches?” she asked. She didn’t reach out and trace the leather-bound book in front of her, but she wanted to. This was his, so she would restrain herself.
He fisted his hand in her hair and she melted on his lap. When he pushed her hair to the side and kissed behind her ear, she melted more, causing both of them to moan.
“Hails, baby, don’t squirm or I’m going to fuck you right here and we’re never going to get your ink done.”
“You’re the one fisting my hair and kissing my neck.”
He pulled on her hair, and she moaned.
She didn’t move, but she did bite into her lip. “So.” She cleared her throat. “Sketches.”
He let her hair down and kissed her temple. “I didn’t know what you wanted since we hadn’t gotten that far. I don’t know if you want flowers or symbols or anything. But I was up late and had an idea. You don’t have to use this. In fact, I suggest you don’t. And though I know your body quite well now that my hands and mouth have been on every inch of you, I don’t know it to the detail I’d need for a tattoo. So things would have to change anyway depending on angles and shit. But, if you like it as a base, then sure. I just couldn’t get it out of my head. You know?”
“I know.” She leaned into him. The fact that he’d thought of something for her, as if he couldn’t stop from sketching it, brought a warmth to her chest she didn’t want to think about just then. “Show me.”
Sloane reached around her and opened the book, his hands steady, but she could feel the tension in his body. This was important to him. Not just the ink he would eventually place on her skin, but what he was going to show her. It was important to her, as well.
She sucked in a breath at the first drawing. “Sloane.”
He didn’t say anything, but she let her shaky hand reach out and trace the edge of the paper. “How…how did you know?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s…it’s almost exactly what I had in my head. How…how did you know?”