“I’m the one who brought it all down.”
“You had help. Starla…I don’t want to save you if you don’t want me to. I don’t want to slay your dragons. I don’t want to crash into your new life and disrupt it. I only want to be with you whenever and however I can.” His big, warm hands moved from her arms to her face, framing her, forcing her to meet his hypnotic gaze. She trembled. “I don’t want to compete with your past. I don’t care about it. You’re not broken, you’re beautiful. I only want to love you. Let me. Just let me.” She tasted those last three words as his mouth descended on hers as if he couldn’t hold himself back from her another second, and oh fuck, he tasted good. Starla gasped from the suddenness, the warmth, the sheer relief that swooped through her body and lit it up like it had never been lit before. Even all the dusty, dark, cobwebbed corners of her soul brightened, though she knew she would have to see and face that ugliness before she could clean it out.
His strong arms caught her as her knees buckled, but she managed to somehow reach over and lock her office door. Oh God, he was sweet. She ground her hips into his and was rewarded with his hands going to her ass, forcing an even closer contact. “I do want that tattoo,” he murmured against her ear, and she chuckled.
“Really? You’re thinking about that now?”
“Yes. I’m thinking I’m not going to fuck you here. I’m thinking I’m going to take you back to your place, or mine if you want, but yours is closer. And that’s important. I have a lot of time to make up for. It could take all night.” His teeth caught her earlobe, giving a nibble. His big, hard hands squeezed her ass. Her entire body trembled as she felt his cock through his jeans, and she wondered how in the hell she would make it through the next few hours without that inside her, without his beard scratching her inner thighs, without his tongue on her clit.
“You make me wait that long, and I’m gonna be an animal,” she warned him.
“I’m counting on it.”
Hardest man to fuck I’ve ever met.
Luckily, she was rarely one to back down from a challenge.
***
Maybe he’d lost his mind, but if this was insanity then it felt damn good. He loved being in Starla’s chair, under her capable, insanely talented hands, feeling the expert bite of her needle. Although he started small with only Ashley’s and Mia’s names and birthday in a banner on the back of his shoulder, he could imagine doing this again. He got off on watching Starla be all professional.
“Maybe I’ll get a third name someday soon,” he joked, looking over his shoulder to give her a wink.
She practically leapt back. “What, mine? Oh no. That’s like the kiss of doom, and I refuse to doom us.”
“I think we’ll be all right.”
“Still.” She rolled her chair closer again, holding his gaze for a moment before going back to her work. “Let’s not take any chances.”
It was difficult to sit there with her presence radiating warmly against his back like a direct ray of sunshine. He wanted to look at her. He could smell her peachy scent—he could practically taste her. Soon he would, but dammit, he’d waited long enough.
At last, she was done, and when she handed him a mirror so he could see the finished product in the mirror on the wall, his mouth fell open. The design she’d drawn up had been simple, but on his skin she’d put such life into it. “I love it,” he said, momentarily at a loss.
“Do you?” She sounded anxious. Setting down the mirror, he turned and wrapped her in his arms, feeling her body stiffen a little because they were right there in full sight of everyone in the shop. After a second, though, she relaxed and laid her head against his naked chest.
“I do. Thank you. It’s beautiful.” The girls would be tickled. He couldn’t wait to show them.
They were like a couple of awkward teenagers on the drive over to her new place, stealing glances at each other and exchanging stupidly giddy grins. She directed him to a nice apartment complex and led him up a flight of stairs—he memorized the way for future reference. When she unlocked the door and yanked him inside intent on kissing him senseless, he stopped her and looked around at the sparse surroundings.
“Oh babe. If you need—”
Starla shushed him by placing a finger on his lips. “No. Not that I don’t appreciate whatever you’re about to offer, but I’ll get everything I need myself. I need to do that.”
Jared smiled against her finger, then caught it and gave the tip a nibble. “Whatever you say.”
“Actually the couch at Julie’s place is mine, but I figured Doug’s funk and beer stains are permanently embedded in it so I told her to keep the fuckin’ thing. What I do have,” she murmured, putting her soft lips back on his, “is my bed.”