Which sent a wave of relief over me.
I’d been to their apartment before. Although, the last time I barely gave Shannon the time of day since I was so set on my revenge. Thankfully, Lilly and Devin weren’t there. She opened the door, and my mouth dropped open. I was knocked speechless.
She was wearing a loose dress that draped from her shoulders. It was a soft green color that made her hair and eyes pop. Cinched at the waist to show her curvy figure, it stopped just above the knee, making her long legs look even lengthier.
Her skin glistened with some sort of illuminating lotion, and her face was fresh with just a tiny bit of color on her eyes and lips. Long red beach waves fell over her bare shoulders, begging to be pushed to the side so I could kiss her exposed collarbones.
“Wow,” I said.
She blushed. “I hope that’s a good wow.”
My eyes traveled down her curvy figure, over her thighs and long legs, all the way down to her ankle boots.
“It’s a great wow.”
“Thank you,” she said, tucking a red wave behind her ear. “Come on in. I just need to get my stuff.”
I stepped into her apartment, and strangely, it felt more like home than the home I grew up in. It was small and warm with well-used, comfy furniture and a large TV in the corner. It was clean, yet had things on the kitchen counters as if people lived there.
It was homey.
I moved to stand behind the couch closest to the front door and peered down the long hallway. I heard music playing from her room, which turned off as soon I heard it as if she was listening to it while getting ready. But better than anything else, the place smelled like her. Her sweet perfume wafted all around me.
I was losing my mind.
A woman had never affected me this way, and I didn’t hate it. I was no longer going to run from whatever was happening with us.
“All ready,” she said as she came out of her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.
I stood to the side as she locked up, and occasionally, the breeze would blow her perfume my way. Moving closer to her, I ran my nose up the side of her hair and breathed her in deeply.
“You smell amazing.”
She stilled, her keys dangling from her fingers. “Thank you.”
When I pulled away, I took her hand in mine, and we walked together to my car.
There was a burger place close to King Street that I had never tried, but it looked like the kind of place she would enjoy. The atmosphere was comfortable with framed pictures of all things Charleston everywhere. Twinkling lights dangled above the entrance, and music played throughout the place.
“Hey, y’all.” A waitress passed us when we entered. “Sit wherever you’d like, and I’ll be over in a bit to take your drink order.”
I looked over at Shannon with a raised brow. “Is this one-star enough for you?”
She giggled behind her hand. “Oh, no. This is definitely at least a two.”
As promised, we ate greasy burgers and drank cheap soda, and as always when I was with Shannon, I laughed until my stomach and cheeks hurt.
It took nearly twenty minutes for me to talk her into allowing me to pay for dinner, and then we were back in my car. It wasn’t technically a date, or at least that was what I told her, but I still wasn’t ready to take her home. Once she realized we were headed in the opposite direction of her apartment, she looked over at me and grinned.
“Where are we going?”
“I thought we’d do something crazy again.”
“Oh, God. My tongue’s finally normal again. Nothing that involves my mouth.”
I laughed. “Damn. I was hoping for a lot of mouth action tonight,” I joked.
She poked me in my side, and I grinned over at her, picking up her hand and kissing her knuckles.
She tensed.
I noticed she did that a lot with me, but it was strange because I was sure she was starting to trust me. She had to know I would never do anything she wasn’t ready to do.
Ten minutes later, we pulled up outside the tattoo parlor, and she sucked in a breath.
“You’re not serious with this.”
I snickered. “I definitely am. I’ve been wanting to poke you for a while now.”
She snorted. “You’re such a pervert.”
“That I am.” I put my car in park. “Come on, Wild Thing, let’s go get you poked.”
She laughed, and when I took her hand outside my car, she slid her soft fingers between mine and walked inside with me.
A tiny seashell was what she chose. Taking the saying “coming out of her shell” literally.
It was cute.
The tattoo artist, a large man with a large beard named Bruce, had her relax back in the chair.
“Where are we putting this thing?” he asked.
She looked up at me before grabbing the bottom of her dress. She pulled it up deliberately, revealing the creamy skin of her knees and then her curvy thighs. She tugged a little too much, and I could see the lacy black panties she was wearing.
My breath hitched.
I’d seen naked women many times, but with just a bit of thigh and a panty shot from Shannon and I was rock hard.
“I want it there,” she said, pointing at the top of her thigh.
My mouth went dry.
The tattoo artist laid the stencil against her skin and pulled it away, leaving the lines of a seashell on her skin.
“Okay. Are you ready?” he asked.
She nodded, nibbling on her bottom lip with excitement in her eyes.
She hissed as the needle entered her skin, and her eyes shot to mine. She closed her eyes in pain, and her mouth opened, but instead of discomfort, the look resembled the pleasured ache of an impending orgasm. My cock grew harder. I couldn’t believe I was getting aroused by her pain, but the faces she made, the way she breathed and moaned in agony ... I was sure it was exactly how she would sound if I ever got the chance to make her come.
No.
Fuck that.
When I made her come because it was happening. I was going to feel this woman if it was the last thing I ever did.
Standing to the side, I watched for forty minutes as the tattoo artist drew the perfect seashell on her thigh. His glove-covered palm sliding over her skin, lifting her dress higher sometimes. I found myself jealous of him.
He was touching her.
Feeling her.
Drawing a sexy reaction from her.
Those were all things I wanted to do, and I would. Starting tonight, I was going to make my move. There would be more than kisses—more than whispered lips—there would be touching and pleasure.
“All done?” I asked when the artist wiped her tattoo with cleaner and began to wrap it.
“All done,” he answered. “You sat like a champ, baby,” he said to Shannon.
I didn’t like him calling her baby. She wasn’t his fucking baby. And seeing her glow under his pet name only made my hackles rise higher.
I paid for her tattoo while he was getting her set up, which she bitched about, and then we were off again, heading back toward my part of town.
“So where to now?” she asked.
“My place?”
She grinned over at me, her green eyes sparkling in the lights outside my car.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” I asked to be sure.
She nodded. “Take me to your place.”
FOURTEEN
SHANNON