Page 61 of Playboy’s Purgatory

My voice is husky and barely controlled, my fingers keeping their pace and pushing her closer to the edge, “I knew you would sit so perfectly for me. Now,” I growl, “come.”

Lara shatters and it’s fucking glorious.

I slam my mouth down on hers and swallow her scream. She’s so wet and the sound are so fucking delicious that I’m barely able to hold back from coming in my jeans.

As Lara rides the wave of her orgasm, I gentle my movements and pull back just enough to watch her. The satisfaction written all over her face is fucking perfection. Later, I’m going to draw her just like this.

Flushed with pleasure in my tattoo chair with my ink on her skin.

When I kiss her again, it’s slower. I savor her and a part of me settles that never has before. It’s the part that always got me in trouble and made it hard for me to sit still unless I was drawing. It’s the part of me that makes the worst decisions and hunts down a thrill.

She makes a sound which is not quite pleasure, and I pull my fingers free before righting her clothes. Lara’s eyes widen when I suck my fingers into my mouth. The sound that comes out of me the second her taste hits my tongue is downright fucking feral.

“Oh wow,” she whispers, more to herself than me, “you really just did that.”

I smack my lips together and wiggle my eyebrows. “Next time, I’ll get it straight from the source.”

She covers her face with her hands. “You did not just say that.”

“I did,” I confirm.

There’s an awkward moment as we stare at each other, but I decide to just bulldoze right on over it. What, are we going to have a long talk about what this meant?

She sets the pace. End of discussion.

“Next time I’ll add a little more to your arm here,” my fingertips graze the spot where I’ll add another vine. “And I might add some flower clusters near the vines, but I want to see how everything is healing.”

Her blue eyes study me for a long moment. “I’m trying to decide if you’re seeking redemption because you want to become like the flowers on my arm or if you’re just scared of finding out you’re like the imagery on my flank.”

“Don’t say flank,” I automatically respond with my face scrunched in displeasure.

No. Nope. Not okay.

“I’m trying to become like the flowers and stay that way. I don’t want to rot,” I tell her honestly.

If she’s willing to talk to me about this, I know I can’t let the opportunity pass.

The letter was never going to be enough. Fuck, the tattoo isn’t even enough, but at least it’s something real.

“I spent a lot of time listening to the wrong person because I thought they needed someone in their corner, but I was wrong. The worst part was that the entire time, what I couldn’t reconcile was how every time I was close to you, I wanted you.” I chuckle and mutter, “Still do.”

“That is not how you tell a girl you like her,” she admonishes me. “I don’t believe in that ‘boys will be boys’ and might just pull your hair as a sign of affection bullshit.”

“I know,” my voice is hoarse. “The whole thing was a mess, and I hate how I was the one who was used to hurt you. You never deserved my ire and you sure as fuck never deserved to be used as a scapegoat for Lola’s psychosis.”

Lara shoots me a look like that should have been obvious right from the start. I rub the back of my neck and look away.

“I just want to show you that I’m not that man.”

“We’ll see.”

It might not sound like much, but when I lean in and steal one more kiss, she doesn’t pull away.

CHAPTER 15

LARA

By the time I step into On Wasted Ridge with Opal, Graycie, Ezra, Jessi, and Riti, it’s a little less grill and leaning more toward bar. The music is bordering on too loud and every table is full. Well, almost every table since Opal asked Whiskey to reserve one for us.