Opening Up
Page 22
He was so big and sexy there as he circled her, looking at her body. It left her breathless and a little nervous, which was sort of hot too. She was too into whatever was happening to obsess on whether that was weird or not.
“This is fantastic work.” He traced over the petals of the lotus that sat across the middle of her back in blues and pale purples.
“Thank you.” She’d gotten the tattoo when she’d decided to drop out of college and follow her own damned path.
“Are you Buddhist?”
“No. Did you know the lotus is actually a part of the mytho-religious structure of multiple cultures and religions? A beautiful flower that grows from muddy water. Rising above, reborn as something more than those muddy roots.”
He kissed her neck as he slid his hands from her shoulders down to her fingertips. He turned her wrist up, moving it close so he could examine the ink there. A little outline of a stick drawing of a cat’s face.
“My grandfather was an awesome guy. He used to call me Kit-Cat. Not like the chocolate bar, but like a feline. Anyway. He used to send me postcards when he traveled for Colman, and he’d sign them with this little cat face.”
“I saw him race once when I was a kid. The local boys’ club gave out free tickets and my mom took us all. He was already in his sixties then but still badass.”
Asa came around to face her after thinking he needed to give himself a moment before he focused on her tits. But the ink on her back, the curve of her spine, and the sweet swell of her ass had wrapped around his cock like a fist. Freckles dusted over her shoulders and that only made her more beautiful.
He had a thing. For curvy brunettes with red lipstick and great tits. In their thirties and forties.
And here this blond, sweet-as-fuck package wrapped around what was turning out to be a dirty core was all he could think about. Those big blue eyes of hers, the way her bottom lip had the tiniest bow in it. Sweet, yes. But not innocent or naïve. He’d never met anyone like her.
And the story about her grandfather, fuck. Together with the way she essentially told him yes he was bossy and that was okay with her but when he went over the line she’d slap him back, only made him want her more. Strong, powerful women were hot as fuck, and this one got to him in ways that he’d be nervous about. Later.
She looked up at him, her lips curved into a smile. Not trying to hide herself or be coy. Also really fucking hot.
“Howie Colman was an absolute badass. He taught me how to drive.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded.
Scrolling tendrils of green wound their way from hip to hip. He danced his fingers over the super-sensitive skin. “Pretty.”
“It’s a work in progress. I added this frog here.” She pointed at her side, where a little green-and-brown frog had been added. “I’ll add little things when something happens that I want to mark.”
He liked that.
Not as much as he liked the barbell in each nipple. He tugged a little, twisting the bar, and she arched toward him with a moan.
“Tell me what you like about this.”
She caught her breath. “It feels good.”
He leaned in to nip her neck. “That’s not an answer to my question. Do you like the pain?”
He licked across her nipple, leaving it slick, and then tugged on it with his teeth before he did the same with the barbell.
She sank her fingers into his hair, holding him. “I like that better.” She went quiet for a bit, but he could tell she was trying to put it into words. “I don’t like pain. Not without pleasure.”
“Me either, darlin’. The pain is a way to get your body ready for the pleasure. Like a wave pulls back, gathers force, and crashes over the shore again. The balance is that place between them.”
“The first time it burned a little longer before it melted into pleasure. I think I must be very selfish because I want the pleasure faster.”
He cocked his head and thought about that. “That’s my favorite too. The shock of the pain and then the rush of chemicals to flood you with pleasure.”
“I want to see your body.” She tugged his hair to bring his face to hers.
He kissed her. “Impatient.”
“Damn right. I’ve been imagining you naked for five months now.”
Laughing, he stepped from his boots and then teased her slowly as he peeled off his T-shirt.
“I’m having a moment. I may need to sit down. But if I sit down I can’t touch you, so that’s out.” She got close enough to do just that. “Hmm. I suppose now we’ll have to test just how you like your nipples and those piercings played with.”
She bent her head to lick across first one and then the other nipple. He tried not to pant as she tugged a little harder than he had. And when she sucked it into her mouth hard and fast he couldn’t stop the way his hips jutted forward, seeking contact with her body.
He soaked it in as she ran her hands all over his chest and arms. She sucked in a breath as she traced the tentacles twisting around his shoulders and biceps.
“Wow,” she whispered as she circled him to take in the rest of the tattoo.
In teals and muted grayscale, the massive octopus took up Asa’s back. The artist had used the space on his skin perfectly. It nearly looked graceful, even over all the powerful muscles on Asa’s back and forearms.
And in one of the tentacles curled on his side was an ace of spades. “What’s this?”
“Just something left over from the army. Ace was my nickname. Not overly imaginative from Asa, but I had that ace of spades done first and then the octopus came after and my tattoo guy worked it into the new design.”
“This is fantastic work.” He traced over the petals of the lotus that sat across the middle of her back in blues and pale purples.
“Thank you.” She’d gotten the tattoo when she’d decided to drop out of college and follow her own damned path.
“Are you Buddhist?”
“No. Did you know the lotus is actually a part of the mytho-religious structure of multiple cultures and religions? A beautiful flower that grows from muddy water. Rising above, reborn as something more than those muddy roots.”
He kissed her neck as he slid his hands from her shoulders down to her fingertips. He turned her wrist up, moving it close so he could examine the ink there. A little outline of a stick drawing of a cat’s face.
“My grandfather was an awesome guy. He used to call me Kit-Cat. Not like the chocolate bar, but like a feline. Anyway. He used to send me postcards when he traveled for Colman, and he’d sign them with this little cat face.”
“I saw him race once when I was a kid. The local boys’ club gave out free tickets and my mom took us all. He was already in his sixties then but still badass.”
Asa came around to face her after thinking he needed to give himself a moment before he focused on her tits. But the ink on her back, the curve of her spine, and the sweet swell of her ass had wrapped around his cock like a fist. Freckles dusted over her shoulders and that only made her more beautiful.
He had a thing. For curvy brunettes with red lipstick and great tits. In their thirties and forties.
And here this blond, sweet-as-fuck package wrapped around what was turning out to be a dirty core was all he could think about. Those big blue eyes of hers, the way her bottom lip had the tiniest bow in it. Sweet, yes. But not innocent or naïve. He’d never met anyone like her.
And the story about her grandfather, fuck. Together with the way she essentially told him yes he was bossy and that was okay with her but when he went over the line she’d slap him back, only made him want her more. Strong, powerful women were hot as fuck, and this one got to him in ways that he’d be nervous about. Later.
She looked up at him, her lips curved into a smile. Not trying to hide herself or be coy. Also really fucking hot.
“Howie Colman was an absolute badass. He taught me how to drive.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded.
Scrolling tendrils of green wound their way from hip to hip. He danced his fingers over the super-sensitive skin. “Pretty.”
“It’s a work in progress. I added this frog here.” She pointed at her side, where a little green-and-brown frog had been added. “I’ll add little things when something happens that I want to mark.”
He liked that.
Not as much as he liked the barbell in each nipple. He tugged a little, twisting the bar, and she arched toward him with a moan.
“Tell me what you like about this.”
She caught her breath. “It feels good.”
He leaned in to nip her neck. “That’s not an answer to my question. Do you like the pain?”
He licked across her nipple, leaving it slick, and then tugged on it with his teeth before he did the same with the barbell.
She sank her fingers into his hair, holding him. “I like that better.” She went quiet for a bit, but he could tell she was trying to put it into words. “I don’t like pain. Not without pleasure.”
“Me either, darlin’. The pain is a way to get your body ready for the pleasure. Like a wave pulls back, gathers force, and crashes over the shore again. The balance is that place between them.”
“The first time it burned a little longer before it melted into pleasure. I think I must be very selfish because I want the pleasure faster.”
He cocked his head and thought about that. “That’s my favorite too. The shock of the pain and then the rush of chemicals to flood you with pleasure.”
“I want to see your body.” She tugged his hair to bring his face to hers.
He kissed her. “Impatient.”
“Damn right. I’ve been imagining you naked for five months now.”
Laughing, he stepped from his boots and then teased her slowly as he peeled off his T-shirt.
“I’m having a moment. I may need to sit down. But if I sit down I can’t touch you, so that’s out.” She got close enough to do just that. “Hmm. I suppose now we’ll have to test just how you like your nipples and those piercings played with.”
She bent her head to lick across first one and then the other nipple. He tried not to pant as she tugged a little harder than he had. And when she sucked it into her mouth hard and fast he couldn’t stop the way his hips jutted forward, seeking contact with her body.
He soaked it in as she ran her hands all over his chest and arms. She sucked in a breath as she traced the tentacles twisting around his shoulders and biceps.
“Wow,” she whispered as she circled him to take in the rest of the tattoo.
In teals and muted grayscale, the massive octopus took up Asa’s back. The artist had used the space on his skin perfectly. It nearly looked graceful, even over all the powerful muscles on Asa’s back and forearms.
And in one of the tentacles curled on his side was an ace of spades. “What’s this?”
“Just something left over from the army. Ace was my nickname. Not overly imaginative from Asa, but I had that ace of spades done first and then the octopus came after and my tattoo guy worked it into the new design.”
