Under me.
Watching her take my cock.
Fuck, would she ever look good with me inside of her.
“You do everything you can to keep people out, including tattooing a brick wall on your forearm.”
I gaze down to where she’s tracing the ink that wraps around my arm. It was one of the first tattoos I got when I turned eighteen. Out on my own with a chip on my shoulder, I wanted to show the people that were supposed to take care of me that I didn’t need them.
Now, Piper is driving me crazy.
“That seems obvious,” I tell her.
“You do it so people won’t see the real you,” she continues, ignoring me. Piper doesn’t deal with my shit, and I like her all the more for it. “I think there’s a big heart under there that you’re afraid of letting people see.”
“How do you know it’s there?” My voice is rough now.
“Because you let me see it today.”
“I…”
I don’t even know what to say to her. Because I was open and honest with all of those kids at the hospital. They have no ulterior motives. They aren’t trying to get something from you.
It’s why I always say yes to team events like that, even when I refuse to participate in others.
“It’s okay, Cash. You don’t have to pretend it’s not there.”
I suck down more of my beer. “Tell me something else you like then.”
It’s an easy distraction to deflect from the emotions Piper is making me feel.
“Shortbreads are my favorite cookies, but I love making macarons. The science of it is definitely an art form. Amaryllis flowers are my favorite.”
“The what? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that.”
“They symbolize strength.”
“What do you need strength for, Princess? You already seem to have it in spades.”
She shakes her head. “Not always. It’s a good reminder. I want it as a tattoo.”
“Why haven’t you gotten it yet?”
“I don’t like needles. I need to work up the courage.”
“Once you get one, they’re addicting,” I confirm.
I can only imagine ink marring her beautiful skin. Where would she have it? Somewhere only she could see? Somewhere others could?
“Which is your favorite tattoo?” Piper asks, breaking my thoughts before they go down the same dirty road as they have been all night.
“This one.” I point to the crossed hockey sticks on my bicep with a date below it. “I got it after my first NHL goal.”
“I like it.”
Piper traces her fingers along the ink, sending goose bumps breaking out on my skin. The smallest touch from her affects me in ways I’ve never felt before.
I wish I could say I pull my head out of my ass, but I don’t. The rest of the evening carries on like this. Her asking questions, fingers brushing my skin.
