Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
I stretch my arms over my head and my stomach rumbles. We were too caught up in each other last night and completely forgot to eat dinner. And then an idea forms. Heading out into the living room to see if anyone is home, I find Quinn sitting on the couch, working on her computer.
“Morning.”
She looks up from whatever she’s working on. “Hey, morning.”
“I was…umm…thinking about surprising Jase at work. Maybe bring him some breakfast. Do you think he would be okay with that?”
“I think he would.” Quinn grins. “Need to borrow another outfit?” She nods toward me. I’m in another one of Jase’s shirts and my panties.
“That would be great. Thank you.”
After showering and getting dressed, Quinn gives me a ride to pick up some food. I also run into the store to grab a charger before my phone goes completely dead. When we arrive at the shop, I ask her if she’s coming in, but she tells me she’s around them enough and needs to get her project done for class so she can officially be done with the semester.
The sign above the door reads Get Inked. I’ve seen it many times in passing but never gave it a second glance. When I open the door, a bell jingles, indicating someone has entered. The guy standing behind the counter looks up and smiles. With inky black hair formed into a high mohawk, tattoos covering every inch of his visible skin, gages in his earlobes, and a hoop jutting out of his bottom lip, he reminds me of Travis Barker from Blink-182.
“Good morning,” he rasps. “How can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Jase.”
“Aren’t they all?” He laughs with a quick roll of his eyes. It’s meant as a joke, but my stomach plummets at his words. Jase is a beautiful man on the inside and out, so it doesn’t surprise me that women are lined up to get their body’s permanently altered by him.
“He’s booked up today.” He pages through the calendar. “He has an opening for Monday, next week.” My throat clogs with emotion. Monday, next week, I’ll be in New York, and Jase will be here. Will he have already moved on? Will I have been nothing more than a blip in his radar? My nose tingles and my eyes blur at the thought.
There’s a throat clearing, and it’s then I realize I’m just standing here, mourning the loss of Jase and me before we’ve even happened. I look up and see Jase standing next to the other guy.
“Dimples.” Jase grins wide, and I shake my head at his nickname for me. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
I lift the bag of food. “I brought you breakfast.” I shrug, suddenly feeling stupid for showing up at his place of work. He’s booked all day—probably with beautiful women, who will let him mark their skin, and afterward, they’ll give him their number because they aren’t going anywhere. They aren’t planning to move over five hundred miles away.
“I’m starved,” Jase says. “Come back with me. I just finished my appointment, and I have a few minutes before my next one.” He saunters around the counter and takes my hand in his, leading me down a narrow hallway and into a small room that must be his workstation. It’s filled with drawings similar to the ones on the walls in his room.
There’s a burley guy standing in front of the mirror, checking out his newly tattooed shoulder. When he sees us come in, he nods once. “Looks great, man,” he says to Jase. Not wanting to be in the way, I sit on the stool that’s situated in the corner of the room.
Jase smiles at the guy. “Damn right, it does.” He grabs some thin plastic, and after covering the art with some gooey looking stuff, lays the plastic over it, securing it with tape. “You know the drill. Keep it covered for a few hours. Once you remove the bandage, wash it with soap and apply more ointment. Pete will make your next appointment up front.”
“Thanks.” The guy fist bumps Jase before walking out.
Once he’s gone, Jase closes the door behind him then stalks over to me. Grabbing the bag of food out of my hands, he drops it onto the counter, then spreads my legs wide, situating himself between them. He cages me into the corner, his hands landing on the wall on either side of my head. His lips come down and meet mine for a passionate kiss that has my toes curling and the apex of my thighs squeezing around him. With his face only a hairbreadth from mine, he murmurs, “I almost canceled my appointments this morning. Leaving you, laying in my bed, in nothing but my shirt…it almost killed me.” His nose brushes against mine. “I was worried I might not see you again, Dimples.”