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She answers with a smile, wipes her hands with a rag, then picks up a smaller brush.
“Take off your shirt, Jace,” she orders finally. “I want to paint your tattoos.”
My body relaxed in the short time she was painting me. Now it tenses like a string again.
“Take off your shirt, John. I want to paint your tattoos.”
I just read this several hours ago. I know every detail of what’s to come, and my heartbeat spikes.
I reach behind me and pull the shirt over my head.
Lu’s eyes shift to my torso, studying me.
I’ve never been particularly proud of my tattoos. They are beautiful as per many people who comment on the beach. But art is art. Anyone can get it. Maybe, not the indigenous needle work, but enough money and you can be a walking canvas.
Now I feel like my tattoos have a purpose—to captivate her.
All yours, Lu.
She forgets herself. I can tell by the way she doesn’t move, the brush motionless in her hand, her lips slightly parted, her eyes on me wide in silent awe.
But for the first time in my life, I don’t feel self-conscious. I feel like I’m hypnotizing her. Confidence surges through me. Her gaze is not unnerving, it’s empowering. I want her hands slide along my tattoos like her gaze does, caressing my body.
When her eyes dip to my shark tattoo, I get hard.
She glances up at me, then her eyes move to the canvas, and she resumes painting.
“Can you…?” She trails off and licks her lips. “Can you take off your jeans? I need to see your body…”
Oooh-kaaaay.
She wants to finally see my shark tattoo.
The thought makes my head spin. My erection starts to strain against the fabric of my jeans. Sharki was much braver in that chapter. I’m not Sharki. But I don’t have a choice. Not when the girl I’m madly in love with wants me to strip for her.
My hands are already pushing my jeans down, and I step out of them.
I’m in my pineapple boxers, yes, those, from anotherSharkichapter, the ones that she wore while I was away. I wear them imagining they rubbed against her skin, and there’s no stopping the madness that’s happening in my head as I straighten my shoulders and give Lu a little smile, narrowing my eyes at her to project the Sharki confidence.
My heart is beating like mad, but I can’t show it. I’m hard for her, and it’s tenting my boxers. There’s no way to hide it, and in a minute, I’ll be bare for her.
She swallows hard, taking me in.
I would’ve blushed any other time. Except I’m so turned on and tense that I feel like my face is drained of the blood, which concentrates in my nether region as I keep my eyes on her.
She blinks away. My Lu looks nervous.
That makes both of us, Lu baby.
But I need to take the lead.
I rub myself through the fabric. I’m shameless, yes. This is the boldest I’ve been with a girl. But I can’t help it. Lu is my fucking undoing.
Her eyes snap to my hand, and a blush creeps up her cheeks.
She bites her lip. Her chest heaves. She applies brush strokes to the canvas, her eyes going back and forth between the canvas and me, but I know she’s not focused.
The revelation hits me—she’sreallynervous! Maybe even more than me, and she can’t hide it at all.
