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“You mean sleep with someone?”
Oh shit. Well, isn’t she just a star at reading between the lines.
Of course she is. She’s fucking smart, you dumbass!
I work my jaw to the side while she lets out a scoff and starts pulling her panties on like she’s securing Fort Knox. There goes V-jay play for the afternoon. Dammit.
“You know, you should really take it as a compliment,” I murmur, trying to salvage this shitshow. “Not every girl gets one of these.” I tap my arm, pointing out the other tattoos in the same area and then instantly regretting that decision.
Her right eyebrow arches, and she snatches my wrist again, carefully examining the myriad tattoos I’ve squished in together. “Is this one? The music notes? And the ice cream? How about that daisy? And the stilettos, that’s gotta be from a hot hookup. Did she leave them on? Is that why you chose this image, because you wanted to remember her spread-eagle with those pointy heels doing…” She shakes her head and lets me go with a huff. “I don’t even want to know where they were.”
I want to tell her it’s not like that, but she’s spot-on. Those heels were the sexiest damn thing that night, and I asked her to leave them on. They dug into my ass while I took her on a glass dining table.
Fuck, I should not be remembering that right now.
I scramble to distract my sex-driven brain and point to her hip.
“What’s the story behind yours?”
“Nuh-uh.” She shakes her head, buttoning up her shirt and crossing her arms like she’s barricading the door.
“Come on. I marked my skin for you.”
And it’s not like we’re a couple or anything. Why is she being so shitty about this?
She rolls her eyes. “You mark your skin for a lot of girls.”
But we’re not exclusive.
I should just say that to her, but instinct is telling me that will only make things worse right now.
Instead, I admit with a sigh, “Yeah, but I really couldn’t get you out of my head, you know?”
Turning to glare at me, her frown turns skeptical. “You mean Karen? You couldn’t stop thinking about her, huh?”
She’s never gonna let that go, is she?
I shake my head and for some weird reason start to laugh. She’s kinda cute when she’s mad, her eyes getting all fiery like that, her skin flushing to match her hair.
“Shut up,” she grumbles.
“Come on, Queen of Hearts. Don’t be mad with me.”
“I’m not.”
I laugh again. I can’t help it.
She tuts and lightly slaps my chest with the back of her hand.
Grabbing her fingers before she can pull away, I suck the tips of two into my mouth, then tell her what she needs to hear. “You’re the best sex I’ve ever had.”
“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes again.
“It’s true.” I show her my wrist again, brushing my thumb over the red heart. “Yours is the only one in color.”
The edge of her lips twitch as she eyes up my forearm. “You know, if you weren’t so good at this sex thing, I’d tell you to kiss my ass and never look back.”
And the baby thing, but I don’t dare say it. I’m on the cusp of getting a smile out of her.
