Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
If there’s the smallest chance that we can make it, I want to give it a try.
I think I’m finally ready to tell her now . . . except she’s lying half-naked and spread-eagled on my table in the middle of my tattoo parlor, with her pussy in my face.
Really not the right setting for a historic moment.
“I’m going to have to sterilize that pussy again.” I shoot Sarah a grin as I get up from my chair. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”
After I give Sarah this piercing—it shouldn’t take long—we’ll go somewhere nice for dinner and have a long talk about this . . . whatever we have right now. By the end of the night, hopefully I can finally call this a relationship.
Sarah
It feels strange to lie with my pants down in a place that’s not a bedroom, especially when the place is someone’s workplace—like a doctor’s office, or a tattoo-slash-piercing shop.
I don’t mind it when it’s a sexual situation because I’m usually too caught up in what’s being done to me to pay attention to my surroundings.
But when I’m just waiting, like I am now . . . it feels weird.
My eyes find a blue towel on Luca’s table. Looks like there’s a bunch of things under it, but I can use that cover myself while I wait for him to come back.
I prop myself up on my elbows and try to grab the towel. It’s a reach, but I manage to hold on to one of the corners.
When I pull on the soft fabric, it gives more resistance than I expected, and some things from the table fall to the floor with a loud crash.
“Are you okay?” Luca asks immediately, yelling from the other end of the parlor.
The worry in his voice floods my chest with warmth. He does care about me. The only question is . . . does he care enough to want me to stay by his side? Does he want me enough to erase the expiry date on our arrangement?
“Yeah, I’m fine, Luca,” I say.
Technically, that’s correct because I’m perfectly okay physically. Even when Luca spanks me or leaves a mark on me, my body’s always been fine.
Inwardly, though, with every cruel smack he gives me in the bedroom and with every kind remark he makes outside of the bedroom, I grow anxious. Everything he does makes me want him more and more. I don’t think that’s smart.
I almost scoff to myself. “Smart.” As if I normally make good decisions. Honestly, I can’t blame my bad decisions on Luca. I’m pretty good at screwing up on my own.
The leather on the surface of the tattoo table sticks to my butt. It drags when I hop off the table. I grab the towel and wrap it around my waist before I crouch down on the floor to pick up the things I dropped.
I pick up an open sketchbook on the floor. It has pages upon pages of Luca’s drawings—I wonder if these are tattoo designs ordered by his clients or his own work.
These sketches are dark. Lots of shadowy blacks and bloody reds. But they’re beautiful, too. I can’t take my eyes off them. They’re just so Luca.
I put the sketchbook on the desk. I’ll ask Luca if I can look through the book again later, after the piercing’s done.
My heart races at the thought of a sharp needle breaking my skin, stabbing through the hood of my clitoris, and pushing through to the other side.
Still sensitive from the oral attention I just got from Luca, my pussy grows wet.
It’s going to be painful, and it’s going to please Luca. This is literally hotter than my dirtiest fantasies.
Aside from loose pages of Luca’s drawings, there’s a black backpack on the floor. When I pull it up by one of the straps, items drop out it and onto the floor.
Ugh. I’m so clumsy today.
The bag must be unzipped.
I carefully put the bag on the desk so it doesn’t spill any more of its contents. I start to crouch down again, but then I catch a glimpse of something familiar in the bag.
Without even thinking, I reach inside and take out a pill bottle. And not just a pill bottle. These are the kind of veterinary pills that a lot of people are after—people like drug addicts and dealers.
And, in this quantity? I peek into the bag to find another bottle. There are more bottles scattered all over the floor from when I picked up the backpack.
With hundreds of pills in each bottle, this entire stash is easily worth six figures in the black market.
What the hell is Luca up to?
Why does he have all these drugs? Is he still selling? This is not the amount he’d have if he were only a user, unless he’s an extremely heavy user who’s hoarding his fix for the next few months.