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He laughs and it’s a sound that makes my heart soar right out of my chest.
“Not the dare I had in mind.”
“Oh?” I tip his head back with a gentle tug to his hair. “Like what?”
Our eyes meet, and a slow smile spreads over his lips. “I dare you to be my reason.” His voice quakes. “When I need something to hold onto, I want it to be you.”
Chapped, quivering lips hover over mine but don’t quite close the distance. “Anchor me.”
I can’t hold back. Blair likes to be in charge in the bedroom, but out here he likes to be guided, pushed, consumed. I kiss him breathless. Until he’s a gasping bundle of sweat and the hoodie is tossed to a nondescript corner. Until I’m tracing his map of stars with my eyes closed.
Until my fingertips have made love and laid claim to every inch of inked skin.
“Dare accepted, Bumble B.”
Epilogue
Shiloh
Three Years Later
“If you don’t stop moving, you’re going to have another scar for me to cover up.”
I roll my eyes, the buzz of Blair’s tattoo gun echoing in the small, private space.
“I’ve been sitting here for two hours. You’d be antsy, too.”
“Nope,” he says, not looking up from his work. “I’d take a nap.”
“Sorry I don’t find being repeatedly stabbed with a needle relaxing.”
Blair snorts. “No, but it does make you horny.”
A flush blooms up my neck, and I throw an arm over my eyes, wanting to smack my annoying as hell older brother but not wanting to mess up his process.
“Shut the fuck up.”
He’s not wrong. I’ve been half tempted to take a break just so I can drag the man waiting on me in the lobby down the hall for a quickie. I’ve got a pain kink; sue me.
“How much longer, asshole?”
Blair chuckles and pulls back for what I swear is the first time in half a damn hour.
“I’ve got this side inked. Probably another two hours to do the other, and I’ll bring you back in for color another time. If you orgasm in my chair, I’ll ban you.”
“Oh fuck you. As if you and Atlas haven’t gotten up to some nasty shit in here.”
All it took was one time barging in to find my best friend bent over the inking chair with a dick in his ass for me to swear off voluntarily hanging out at Blair’s shop, or at least his room in the back.
I’d tease them about it but the last time I tried, Atlas threatened to send me some food play video they accidentally made while setting up the kitchen in the new bakery he and his brother are moving into.
“Do you need a breather?” Blair asks, brow raised, and my face must look like a flaming hot Cheetos right now because I can see the innuendo in that cheeky smile.
But goddamn him because I do need that breather.
“How long can you give me?”
He pretends to think on it, really just wanting to see me squirm. “Since you’re the only one on my books today, technically as long as I want. But since you’re my brother… you’ve got twenty minutes, then I need your butt back in this chair.”
