“Yeah.” Hudson nods. “I’ve been there nearly a month now.”
God, has it really been that long since I spotted Hudson peeking through the window of my dance studio?
“Good for you, man.” Charlie grins. “You sitting in the room with her?”
“I don’t know…” Hudson turns his full attention to me, causing me to shiver. “Can I sit in the room with you, Gee?”
I nod before I know it.
“Follow me to the back then, you two.” Charlie gestures to the only open studio door. “I just need to grab some more paper towels and some black ink. Won’t be a minute. Hop up onto the bed, Giselle.”
I duck inside, Hudson following, shutting the door behind him with a click, until there’s just the two of us. I frown to myself when I realise, I’m not unhappy about it.
Hopping onto the plastic coated bed, I find myself unable to tear my gaze away as Hudson grabs the spare chair beside me, spinning it around to straddle it before he sits.
I trace his visible tattoos – the ones sprawling up his muscular biceps, which are straining tight against the material of his t-shirt – with my eyes, noticing the whorls of colour and the harsh edges.
It’s Hudson who breaks the silence between us first, his pointer finger reaching out to trace the tattoo on my inner right wrist. “Pretty.”
I can’t repress the outbreak of goosebumps that erupt in his wake or the way my lashes seem to flutter closed in barely contained delight.
What the hell is going on with my body every time it comes into any sort of proximity with this man?
He makes my heart race, my stomach swoop, my nipples pucker in my bralette and my core pulse with a warm, wet heat.
“Thank you. It’s the dates of my parent’s birthday’s.” I stare down at the intertwined dates, looped into the shape of an infinity symbol with a lock and key in the centre.
“Did Charlie draw it?”
I nod wordlessly. I’ve never gone to anyone else for my ink. Charlie is one of the best in the business, and with the help of social media, he’s popular too. I had to make this booking months in advance, scrimping and saving my pay checks to be able to afford the artwork.
“And this one?”
I peer down at my second tattoo Hudson is looking at. Inked onto my inner forearm is a 3D heart; the kind adults pass around at Halloween and even though they taste of equal measures sherbet and chalk, you still unwrap the cellophane to read the message embossed on the front before letting it fizzle away on your tongue.
‘R U Mine’ is delicately inked inside of the heart, the letters perfectly bold and crisp. Just the way I wanted them to look.
“Yeah, Charlie did that one too. It’s my favourite song from—”
Hudson reels off the famous name of my favourite band before I have time to say it.
“You a fan?”
He nods.
“Favourite song?”
“505,” he answers without hesitation. “If I was to get any lyrics from a song tattooed on me… it would be something from that song.”
Hudson tiptoes his fingertips up my inner forearm, tickling ever so slightly, as I sing the song in my head, each and every provocative word – talk of hands wandering between thighs and wrapping around their lover’s neck – dripping between my ears.
I shift in the leather chair as my pussy throbs in response to his gentle touch, uncrossing and then crossing my ankles so I can squeeze my thighs together and give myself some chance of reprieve.
Those dangerously pretty green eyes of Hudson’s track the movement, lingering on my lower half as if he can see me tensing. I wonder if he knows I’m throbbing for him. That my body is as highly strung for him as I was the night I shoved the pillow between my legs, and bought myself to orgasm from a photograph.
Fucking hell…
Hudson drapes himself further along the back of the chair, placing his now empty mug on the table beside the us and then brings his face closer to mine. “So, what are you getting done today?”
