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She crosses her arms. “You’re not even going to mention my ink?”
I study her for a moment, too aware of the beat of awareness in the air. I move in, fingers brushing the silk of her skin as I ease the strap of her stretchy top down, skimming along the tops of her breasts that swell above the cotton bra with the lace edge. Simple, black, and a little too sexy for what it is. “Cheap, tacky, and I’ve seen better.”
“Like your own?”
I raise a brow. “I don’t have any tattoos.”
“Jealous?”
“No. You look ridiculous.”
Her chin rises. “I’m going to get more.”
“Get a tramp stamp, real low, maybe a big one that shows when you wear low-slung pants. That’ll be real classy, kid. Or some of those Japanese face tats. Fuck, just go old school prison or tribal.”
“So, you don’t like what you see?”
The world goes still at her words, the heaviness of meaning, the way need ricochets. She’s playing with matches and gasoline, and I want her to.
The thing is, Karlee’s annoying and plays brat to the extreme, but she’s hot as fucking hell. It doesn’t matter that she’s not my type or that she’s not even in my preferred age group of women I like to play with. She sparks things inside me that make it hard to think.
She’s taunting, her tits thrust forward as she comes in, brushing them against me, and it’s a cascade of heat.
I take her by the throat, just a gentle hold, and it snaps her to a vibrating attention like she’s plugged in and turned on.
I bring her closer and lean in, lips almost touching hers, and I can feel the acceleration of her pulse, the sharpness of her breathing as her lips part. But I don’t kiss her. Instead, I lower my mouth to the top of her breast, where it swells, and I slide my tongue over the tattoo.
Karlee moans.
It’s wrong. This is Fallon’s sister. But I do it again, on the other tit, this time a little harder, a little longer, and then I lift my head and step back.
Releasing her, I touch her cheek and then step away. “Next time, get better fake tattoos.”
“Tizio . . .”
“Just go wash that shit off, Karlee, or I’ll do it for you.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
“I’m not talking subtext here. Wash it off. Scrub, like the fucking kid you’re being.”
“You’re not the boss of me,” she hisses, coming up, those tits brushing against me, and damn if I can’t feel it in my cock.
She’s being a pure brat, trying to rile and tease, and she’s begging for that ass to be slapped red and hot.
I step away. “Right now. I am, so fucking deal.”
“Tizio—”
“You’re nothing but a kid to me,” I say, this time turning from her.
She grabs my arm, hurt in her voice. “Then maybe you should stop looking at me like you want to get a nasty label attached to you.”
I turn back to face her. There’s hurt, but there’s need too. She’s trying all her tools to get me to do something we’ll both regret.
“Let me put this to you real fucking simple, Karlee. I’m aware you’re more than of age, kid. But as far as I’m concerned, you’re nothing but jailbait.”
“How’s that work?” she says, lifting her face to mine. “Because you seem interested.”
