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But it wouldn’t be once. And it wouldn’t be foolish.
It would be the start of everything.
“It’s been thirty years since….”
I escaped, I almost say, but I never talk about that.
Julian doesn’t even know about it.
“My father died,” I go on, which is true. But not the whole story.
“I want to get his headstone, but artfully…with life, hope, with something that gives it meaning.”
She bites her bottom lip, causing me to turn away to look over the city. She wouldn’t make faces like that if she knew the effect it had on me. If she knew how badly it makes me want to grab her shoulders and guide my lips to hers.
“How big would it be?”
I smirk, forcing myself to look at her, knowing this could be dangerous. Reckless, like my entire life has been one stunt after the other.
But when I’m jumping out of a plane, or biking down a mountainside, I’m not risking anybody except for myself.
I’m not risking my best friend.
“I can show you if you want.”
She nods quickly. “It would make it easier.”
I know I should stop even as my hands reach down for my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. She makes a soft whimpering noise as her gaze moves over my naked torso.
I bite down, certain I can hear quivers of want in there. I’d never be able to sense them in another woman, but this ismywoman.
She belongs to me.
“See, below the tribal?” I turn. “There’s a space there.”
“I think that could work great,” she says after a pause, her voice breathy. “I could even incorporate the tribal tattoo into it. I’d need time to draw up some designs. I’ll need details of what you want on the gravestone, things like that. Maybe I could email you?”
I turn back to her, nodding. “That’s fine. But I haven’t seen your work yet.”
My manhood is flooded with fiery need, my balls swelling, my thoughts hazy and sluggish except when it comes to her. Everything else seems so distant, but she’s urgent, making my helm leak hot precome as I push against my pants.
Something like bravery glints in her eyes—mixed with nerves, sassiness, and everything else—making my womanmine.
“What if somebody walked in and saw me?” she says.
I stroll over to the desk, knowing this is the final moment, the point at which I need to stop. But it’s so difficult to put things into perspective when my woman is right there.
“I’ve got a switch here which seals the door,” I tell her, reaching under the desk. “I can push it if you like. Nobody ever enters my office without buzzing through first. But just in case….”
She’s doing that lip-biting thing again, filling my shaft with even more need. I’m sure something’s happening here.
I don’t have much experience, but it’s like I always knew it would be.
Once I know, Iknow. There’s no doubt.
Except for Julian. I have to remember….
But then she speaks in a trembling voice, letting me know she’s in on the game. She knows we are silently agreeing to something wild and wrong.
