Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
It made him fucking crazy.
And hard as hell.
Jo did as he asked. After about thirty minutes, he finished up and shut off the machine. Without the familiar buzz, the shop fell into utter silence. She kept her eyes closed, so he took a moment to admire the work.
“Hot damn,” he whispered.
Her lips curled. “Good?”
“Here, let me help you up so you can look in the mirror.”
She opened her eyes and extended a hand which he used to pull her to a sitting position.
“Hop down. There’s a full-length mirror over there.”
She did. With one hand across her tits, holding her bra up, she made her way to the mirror. When she could see the full tattoo up close and personal, she gasped. “Oh, my God, Fin.”
“Nah, I’m not your god. Just a dammed good tattoo artist.” He winked.
She didn’t laugh at his crack. Her eyes filled, and she stared at the gorgeous flock of birds spreading out across her upper chest and collar bone. “It’s so beautiful,” she whispered.
Tracker walked up behind her. “You are.”
Her eyes met his in the mirror, and she gave him a wet, wobbly smile. “I meant your work.”
Grinning in gratitude, he brushed her hair back from her neck and kissed her. Goose bumps broke out across her neck. He couldn’t resist a second taste and kissed her soft skin again.
“You were right,” she said, sounding breathless and needy.
“Of course I was.” He trailed kisses up her jaw. Someday he’d get his mouth and tongue all over the ink he’d laid, but it needed weeks to heal first.
She chuckled. “I mean about the tattoo helping me destress. I’m too awestruck to be mad anymore.” Though she didn’t mention that being in his company and talking to him helped as well, he could see it in her eyes. They had a connection. Something intimate and deeper than he’d ever planned. He either needed to end it with her or come clean and tell her who he really was.
But she felt too good in his arms for either of those things, so all he did was spin her around and claim her mouth.
Which made him the worst kind of jerk but felt so damn good.
She moaned and opened for him. Careful not to touch her fresh ink, he attacked her mouth and roamed his hands over her bare back. The kiss grew deeper and hungrier until he whispered the words, “Stay with me tonight.”
The change in her was instant. From pliant and soft to stiff and tense in one second flat. She cleared her throat and stepped back.
He let her go, though everything inside him rejected the idea.
“I should probably go home. I’ve been going since early this morning.”
“Just sex, Jo. Enjoying each other’s company doesn’t have to make it more than sex. I’m not asking for more.”
Liar.
“No, I know. Of course. I’m just…” She shrugged as though that explained something.
He could push. She teetered right on the edge of saying yes. Nudging her over wouldn’t take much effort. They could crawl into his bed, fuck to exhaustion, and maybe, just maybe, she’d let a few more morsels of information slip. Instead, he found himself saying, “You don’t owe me any explanations.” Taking a step back, he winked. “Follow those aftercare instructions, Jo Jo, ‘kay?”
She nodded. “I will.”
Neither spoke as she slipped her bra straps back in place and her tank over her head. He wanted to help her with both, just to have his hands on her for another moment, but it seemed too intimate. Too loving. Jo would probably reject the touch, and for some insane reason, the thought of her rejecting his hands on her fucked with his head.
This had been a mistake.
The smart thing would be to cut his losses and return to the club with his tail between his legs, admitting the failure. But that would mean no more time with Jo, and he couldn’t do it.
She turned and started for the exit. Tracker was helpless to do anything but stare at her retreating form like a puppy longing for its new owner.
Christ, why did she have to be so…
… goddamn great?
Why couldn’t she be like every other cop in this town—a total dick? Or why couldn’t she be like the women who hung around the club—hot and fun but not much deeper than a rain puddle? Instead, she had to be full of enticing layers he wanted to peel back one at a time.
As she reached the door, she halted. “Fin?” she said as she spun back around.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Thank you.” She pressed a hand lightly over the bandage covering her new tattoo. “For more than just the ink.”
For cheering her up?
For seeing her?
For letting her go?
Who the hell knew? It didn’t matter. She was welcome to all that and more if she wanted. Even if it was the worst idea in the world.