I could lie, but I don’t. “This? No. This was all Eamon. He does most of my tattoos.”
“And, what, you couldn’t tell him no?”
“Maybe I thought it was a good idea. More convincing.”
“So this is just another twisted way to make your stepfather believe this is real?” She searches my face for answers. “Well, I have to give it to you, you’re dedicated.”
“Maybe here would be better,” I say, instead of giving her any answers. My hand glides up her arm, over her shoulder, grazes her breast, and rests just underneath on her ribs, so I can feel when her breath catches. “Yeah, I like the thought of it here.”
“I don’t think so,” she says. Her hands are on my shoulders, clutching or preparing to push me away, I’m not sure. A heartbeat passes, and she doesn’t do more than grip me tighter. “Ribs would hurt like a bitch.”
A smile teases at my lips, and my hand moves to her lower back.
“A tramp stamp?” she snorts. “Over my dead body. Before you suggest it, there’s no man on Earth I’d be willing to tattoo on my ass.”
We’re so close our lips are almost touching. “Then where?”
“This is insane. I’m going to be late.”
“So tell me, and I’ll let you go. Where would you get it?” I should drop it. I should let her go and banish the thought from my mind. But I pull her closer with my hand on her back.
She chews her bottom lip before she reaches across to guide my wrist around, so my hand is flat against her belly. Our gazes catch, hold. She urges my hand down, across her button, down her zipper. Fuck, I don’t think I’m breathing. But she skims over the front of her until my hand is gripping the curve of her hip, nearly the top of her thigh. My thumb presses intimately close to the heat of her. My dick is hard and leaking. I’d give anything for her to touch me.
“If I were to get a tattoo of a man’s name?—”
“My name,” I interrupt.
“—this is where it would be.”
Is it just me, or are we somehow even closer? Did she move, or did I? My typically organized mind feels like it’s in the center of a tornado.
I imagine it there, branding her. Another way to show the world—and her—that she’s mine. Something inevitable holds me in its grasp.
She doesn’t back away when I shift my free hand to thread through her hair, but her eyes are flashing in warning. Her hands shove at my shoulders, but I’m immovable. I pivot until she’s against the wall, no way to escape, at my mercy. She strains against me, then realizes how much I’m enjoying it, and she freezes.
“Don’t you fucking da?—”
I capture the words with my mouth, swallowing her protests.
Her hands fly to my biceps, and she tries to push me away, but I pull her closer to me with a bruising grip on her hips. When she gasps, I deepen the kiss, feeding her my tongue, letting her nip at my lips until she softens. It’s only for a moment. Just one where she kisses me back. But it’s enough to have her tearing herself away.
She shoves me and brings a hand to her tender mouth. “What the hell are you doing?” she whispers.
“Kissing my wife.”
“Don’tkiss me again,” she says, ignoring my comment. “I swear to God, I’ll break something valuable the next time you try.”
I brush the hair that’s fallen into her face. She flinches away as I lift my hands, and at that, I let her go. “Whatever you say, Mrs. O’Connor.”
“I’m going to go. Remember, I have that meeting this afternoon. It may take a while, so have Bren and Tadhg wait in the car. I don’t want them embarrassing me in front of my advisor,” she demands, chest heaving. “But if you ever touchme again, I’m going to make you regret it.” As she talks, I get dressed, ignoring my protesting dick. “I hope you’re prepared to laser those off as soon as possible.”
I don’t dignify the laser removal comment with a response. If anything, her reaction to them has ensured they’re never coming off. “I’ll let them know. Is there anything else you want?”
Her jaw clenches, and she crosses her arms over her chest. “I mean it, O’Connor. Laser them off, or I’ll figure out a way to tattoo over them myself.”
“If that’s what pleases you.”
“I doubt you care about what pleases me,” she mutters behind my back, still following me as I move to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
