Page 32 of Does He Know?

Emerson is sitting on the edge of my table in nothing but her black tank top and a pair of dark purple lace panties. She’s fucking beautiful. Every part of that night, all those months ago, comes rushing back. The way she played with her pretty pussy as her eyes held mine. The arch of her back when her orgasm tore through her, and the heated look of her stare as she watched me stroke my cock.

I’m in so much fucking trouble.

I clear my throat. “Where do you want it?” My voice is gravelly.

She leans to the side. “I was thinking here.” She points to her hip, and sure enough, it’s going to require her to lose the panties. I don’t even try to talk her out of the placement, because this drawing is outstanding, and this on her skin is going to be sexy as fuck.

The placement is perfect.

Sheis perfect.

“Panties need to go.” The words come out as a gruff command, more than an answer to her question, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

She doesn’t blink an eye as she shimmies one side, then the other over her hips and down her legs. Once she’s finished, she flashes me a grin, because yeah, I’m watching her every move. I’m just looking. There’s nothing wrong with looking. At least that’s what I keep telling myself to make this better. If Forrest knew, he’d kick my ass.

“Can you take care of these for me?” she asks.

Before I know what’s happening, her panties—correction, her thong—is flying toward me, landing on my chest. On instinct, I reach up to grab them to keep them from falling to the floor. I can smell her on the fabric. I don’t know how in the hell I’m going to make it out of this session keeping my hands to myself.

I’ve never craved a woman the way I crave Emerson.

I fist the slip of fabric as if it were my lifeline. I stand motionless as I fight like hell to maintain my composure. My need for her rolls through my veins like a summer storm. I count backward from twenty in my head, and then repeat that process before I shake out of my Emerson daze.

I tuck the thong into my back pocket and turn my back to her. “Lie back,” I say, my voice thick.

I grab my phone and pull up a country play list because I know that’s what she likes, and set the volume low. Just loud enough to hear over the hum of my tattoo gun, but not so loud we can’t talk. I should probably crank it up, but I can’t do that. I need to be able to hear her reactions to make sure she’s comfortable at all times. The thought of hurting her, even though it’s something she signed up for, has my gut twisted in knots.

“Are we adding any colors?”

“No. I want it black and gray.”

I nod, letting her know I heard her. I suspected that’s what she was going to say, as that’s how she drew it, but I wanted to make sure. I want this to be perfect for her.

Pulling on my gloves, I grab the razor and get to work shaving the area. Once that’s done, and the skin is clean, I change my gloves and transfer the design.

“Go take a look and make sure it’s where you want it.”

“I don’t need to.” She holds my gaze. “I trust you, Rome.”

It’s as if she reached inside me and fisted my heart in the palm of her hand. She may as well have done it with how tight my chest squeezes at her words. The look in her eyes. It’s deeper than just this tattoo and we both know it.

“You sure?” I can feel the slight tremble in my hands. Not from nerves, but from the need to take her into my arms. I have to snap out of this. “Are you comfortable?”

“Very.” She offers me a smile that lights up the entire room.

When I pick up my gun, the trembling stops. This is what I do best. A tattoo gun in my hand is where I feel most at home.

“First line,” I say, letting her know that I’m starting. She’s a fucking rock star and doesn’t even flinch. “You doing okay?”

“I’m fine, Rome. I promise, if I need a break, I’ll tell you.”

“Okay, baby girl,” I reply, my voice soft.

I get to work, and for the first forty minutes or so, we’re both quiet. She doesn’t move a muscle while my cock throbs behind my zipper. I’ve tattooed some exquisite women in my day. I’ve had my hands on asses, tits. You name it, I’ve done it. But none of them have ever affected me like Emerson.

“He doesn’t have to know.”

I lift the gun from her skin. “Who doesn’t have to know?”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com