I couldn’t even speak. I was stunned and speechless.
I glanced back down at the ring tattoo. My name on his finger, forever.
“Don’t worry, I’m gonna cover it with a ring,” he told me. “I’ll just throw one of my regular rings over it. You know, I wear a lot of them. No one’s gonna think anything of it if I wear a skull ring or whatever on that finger. No one has to see it except—”
“I want one,” I blurted.
The words came out fast and certain, surprising us both. His eyes widened, and I knew I was staring at him like a crazy person, but I meant it.
I turned to the tattoo artist before he could say anything. “Can I have one? Just like his. A tiny little script ring—it shouldn’t take long, right?”
The guy eyed me up and down. “You sure, sweetheart?”
“Yes.” I scowled a little. “I’m sure. I want it on my finger. Right now. Please.”
“I just meant it’s gonna hurt,” he informed me. “Tattoos on the fingers… painful.”
“Yeah, well. If he can do it, I can do it.” I dropped my purse and plopped my ass down in the chair. “Hell, if my dad can do it, I can do it.” I shot Zane a look, and while he raised his eyebrows at that, he wasn’t gonna argue. My dad had a ton of tattoos, and no way was he braver than me.
The tattoo artist just shrugged and started prepping to do my tattoo. At which point it really sank into me that this was gonna hurt, and I sank my fingernails into the leather arms of the chair.
Zane dropped onto the rolling stool and rolled over next to me.
“You sure about this, Maggie…? It’s forever, right?”
“We already went over that,” I said, giving him a quick glance. I tried not to focus on the tattoo gun, but I really wanted to watch what the guy was doing. “I want Zane on the outside,” I informed him. “And Adrian on the inside. And I’m going to spell it out so you can write it down first. I’ve seen photos on the internet of people with misspelled tattoos, and I’m telling you right now, I’m gonna throw a shit fit if his name is spelled wrong. Just thought I should tell you that upfront, to be fair.”
“Fair enough,” the dude said, with an amused glance at Zane. Then he turned to get a pen and paper.
I looked at Zane. He looked back at me. He didn’t say anything, but he definitely looked worried that maybe I’d lost my mind and would hate him for this tomorrow.
It was impulsive, yes, but so what? I’d done impulsive shit before.
Like marrying him in Vegas.
Because let’s just be honest. There was a part of me—a big, huge part—that just kept wanting me to attach myself to Zane Traynor in every way I could.
You know… the part of me that just wanted to love him and forget about everything else.
“I’ll cover it,” I told him, “with the wedding band you gave me at the chapel.”
“And when people notice you’re wearing a wedding ring?”
“I’ll tell them to mind their own damn business.”
He continued to stare at me as I spelled out his name for the tattoo artist. Zane Adrian. “I want something really fancy for the Z,” I told him, thinking on the fly. “Like, can you embellish it a bit?”
“Sure,” he said. “I can do it the same style as his and add some little curls on the ends of the Z, but still keep it the same height as the other letters. Sound good?”
“Uh, can I see what the Z looks like in that font? Like, can you show me an example? So we can make it perfect…? I want it to be perfect.”
“Sure, sweetheart.” He reached for his notebook again, with another glance at Zane that seemed to say, And you married this chick, because…?
“You’re amazing, you know that?” Zane said, just staring at me.
“Yeah, well.” I nodded at the tattoo guy. “Opinions on that may vary.”
Zane smiled, slowly.
I smiled back.
We were barely in the door of the hotel room when Zane reached to take my hand in his. He tugged me close to him as the door shut behind us and slipped my purse off my shoulder, placing it gently aside.
It was his hotel room, and it smelled faintly of him; the smell of his bodywash from his morning shower.
We were alone, completely alone, for the first time in a long time.
Even when we’d worked in the lounge of his tour bus, we’d left the door unlocked and Shady had drifted in and out.
The door was definitely locked now.
When he’d asked me to come back to the hotel with him after we had our lunch, I’d said yes without hesitation. I didn’t ask why, but I didn’t need to. We both wanted to be alone together and we both knew what it meant.
We hadn’t been alone like this in his hotel room or mine since the night of his disappearance into the desert.
I’d told him when he’d followed me home to Vancouver that we could get through this together; that I’d be here for him as his friend, or more—when he was ready. Since that night five weeks ago, I’d been telling myself I could be Zane’s friend, indefinitely, without more between us, because that’s what was best for both of us.
It was what was best for him as he struggled to stay clean.
It was what was best for our relationship.
But it wasn’t easy.
As Zane slipped his fingers into my hair and cupped my face, tingles skittered through my body. Fire ignited as he skimmed his thumb across my cheek. Warmth swelled through me; the anticipation of more of his touch. My nipples tightened and butterflies stirred in my stomach. My clit pulsed. The restless need for him was already building between my legs. My heart was pounding and that back-of-knee-sweat thing? Yup.
As I slipped my hands under his leather jacket, onto his waist, they were kinda shaking.
Because Zane Traynor would always be so much more to me than a friend.
Right now, I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted him… and I hoped to God he was ready.
I’d had a lot of restless nights lately, and as much as I told myself it was all for the best and the greater good… I’d missed Zane like this. The intimacy of his face this close to mine, the feel of his breath on my skin and the warmth of his hands on my body. The look in his ice-blue eyes, his pupils dilating as he looked at me.
This lust-charged space between us. The bone-deep—no; soul-deep magnetic pull.
We’d been sucked into each other’s orbits the day we met, and we were still going around and around.
Would we ever stop?
No. I couldn’t imagine that ever happening.
I’d only been able to stuff my desire for him down—just barely—and focus on work because, frankly, I knew how to do that. And because I knew it would be incredibly unfair to jump on him and shove sex in his face when I’d given him so much flack over the years about staying sober, giving up pot and retiring his manslut ways.
When he’d finally done all I’d ever asked of him, and told me he needed some time without being involved with anyone, including me… how could I disrespect his efforts to stay clean by trying to lure him right back into bed?
It wouldn’t be fair, it wouldn’t be respectful, and it definitely wouldn’t be love. And the fact was I loved this man. I’d just gotten his name tattooed on my body, for fuck’s sake.
Love.
I loved him more right now, in this moment, than I probably ever had, and I’d do anything to support him staying clean and living a long, healthy and happy life… Even if it meant I couldn’t be with him.
I’d sworn that to myself.
That if Zane decided he didn’t want to be with me once he got clean and stayed that way, I wasn’t going to fuck up his life by chasing after him and complicating things for him.
One thing I knew: Zane Traynor was a man who knew what he wanted.
If he wanted me, he’d make it known.
If he didn’t… there was nothing I could do to change his mind.
I was just going to let him go, so to speak, and wait f
or him to come back to me.
However… I was still human, I was horny as hell, and he hadn’t touched me in a long, long time. And I wanted him so fucking bad it hurt.
I’d never been a dude, so I really had no way to compare, but I was pretty sure blue balls had nothing on this.
“Do you still want me?” I blurted out as his thumb traced over my cheek for what felt like the dozenth time. It was like he was in some kind of trance, staring at my mouth. But my words seemed to stir him out of it.
“Want you?” His eyes met mine and he blinked, like he was struggling to make sense of the question.
“Yeah. We haven’t… You haven’t tried to touch me in a long time, and I just wondered—”
“Wondered?”
“If it was the same between us. If maybe… you feel differently.”
“Differently…” he repeated. “Jesus, Maggie, are you serious? I just got a ring tattoo with your name on it.”
“I know. I know, but… I just meant, you know, is other stuff still the same?”
“Stuff?” His gaze drifted down to my mouth again, and he swiped his tongue over his lip. “You mean, stuff like this?” He moved my hand to his crotch, pressing it down against the erection in his jeans.
I swallowed, heat thrilling through my core as the relief hit me.
“I just wondered…” I said breathlessly.
“The only reason I’ve managed not to touch you,” he pretty much growled out, “is because I’ve been rubbing myself raw thinking about you every fucking day.”
“You did that for me?” I swallowed again. “Alone?”
Maybe it shouldn’t have surprised me so much, but yeah, it kinda did. Like, I knew a man with a sex drive like Zane’s had probably jerked off thinking about me a few times. But… this man was a rock star.
A drop-dead gorgeous rock star with a very public reputation for having a huge dick and the skills to go along with it; he could’ve had a woman take care of his needs anytime, anywhere.
For some reason it was still hard for me to think of him hanging out alone in his hotel room, keeping his legendary dick to himself, when he could’ve been picking up chicks.
God, but my dad had jaded me.
Zane laughed shortly, but the sound was cut off and strangled as it ended in a low groan. He was still holding my hand, grinding my palm against his hard shaft.
“What am I, a fucking animal?” he said, his voice low. “I can be faithful, Maggie. Jerking off is nothing compared to the satisfaction I get with you, but neither is being with another woman. And besides… I never want to hurt you like that again.”
He rolled my palm over the plump head of his cock, pressing down on it in a way that I would’ve thought would be painful… but he didn’t look like he was in pain.
“You fucking feel me on that, Maggie?” he murmured, his eyes darkening with desire.
“Yeah. I feel you…”
“Plus… my dick has a distinct preference.” His gaze wandered down my body. “I start bringing around second-rate pussy, it’s not gonna be happy.”
I rolled my eyes but kinda had to smile. “I really don’t think you should do that,” I offered, starting to rub him up-and-down myself. “Your dick deserves better…” I bit my lip and he bit back a growl as he backed me up against the wall.
“My dick agrees with you.” His face was so close to mine, we could easily have kissed. “That feels good,” he muttered, but he made no move to kiss me.
“Yeah…”
“I want you. I never stopped wanting you, Maggie. You stop wanting me?”
“No.”
“You’re in my room.”
“I am.”
“You just got my name tattooed on your finger…”
“Yeah,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper. “So did you.”
“Then I guess we are in this together.”
“I guess so.”
His gaze dropped to my mouth. “You gonna let me kiss you?”
“I’m not gonna stop you, Zane.”
I didn’t. His lips met mine and it was like all the air was instantly sucked from the room. My breath caught; I didn’t even need to breathe.
I just needed him.
My hands went to his neck and gripped him, holding him close as I kissed him over and over, my tongue lapping against his. Then we were moving; he was drawing me with him into the bedroom and then he was peeling off my clothes, and all I wanted was to be naked with him. I needed him against my skin.
I started undressing him, too, and by the time we were both naked, all I could do was press myself up against him, wanting all his warmth, wanting every part of his body touching every part of mine as we kissed, deeper and deeper. It was like we were trying to climb into each other… Like we could make the rest of the world just go away.
Like all we needed was one another.
Not air, not food… not anything or anyone else.
By the time we ended up in a horizontal position, entwined with each other, I hardly knew where we were…
The floor. We were on the floor, laid out on top of one of the hotel robes, which he’d somehow spread out beneath me, because my man was considerate like that.
“Condom?” he asked, and I shook my head.
“No. We can just… I just had my period. We won’t get pregnant.”
He stared at me. “And if we do?”
I didn’t answer that.
He didn’t ask again.
My legs were spread around his waist and I was gripping him tight, my thighs squeezing him, my fingernails digging into his back… and he pushed into me. He did it slow, and warmth radiated through me. My core clenched, my pussy squeezing him as he pushed deeper.
And oh God, I’d missed this.
I savored the sounds of his labored breathing, the low groans in his throat as he kissed me, his chest expanding against mine.
He filled me and withdrew and filled me again… and there was no way I could ever get enough of this.
Some sex was just sex.
This sex was… life-altering.
Every time Zane fucked me, something between us changed.
Deepened.
We grew more complicated and more entwined, and I became more unable to imagine any kind of life without him.
The feel of Zane inside me? Pure ecstasy… far beyond any mere sexual pleasure I’d ever experienced.
I felt him everywhere.
I wanted him everywhere.
And I wanted him to feel everything I was feeling.
“Harder,” I breathed. “Fuck me harder, Zane. Hard… hard…”
I urged him deeper with my hips, urged him to fuck me harder with my ragged pleas. I yanked him against me, taking his full weight as he grasped my hands, lacing his fingers through mine. He pinned my hands on either side of my head as he fucked me and I begged him as I kissed him, “I need you… I need you to fuck me for hours… We can’t leave. We can never leave this room. I need you to fuck me like this forever.”
“We can’t,” he breathed. “I’m useless with you. Can’t last for two fucking seconds, Maggs…”
“Fuck that…” I gripped his hands tight and bucked up against him, meeting every thrust as I rolled my hips, my focus shifting completely at his words. “Just come. I want to feel you come.”
“You first…”
“Fuck. No… I want you to come. Right now. Just come, baby…”
“Maggie…”
“Yeah…”
He panted heavily as he picked up speed. His hips slammed roughly against mine and I fucking loved it. I crossed my feet behind his back, locking them at the ankles, squeezing him in a vice grip. I gripped his hands as tightly as I had at the tattoo parlor, probably cutting off blood.
And I felt it, everywhere, when he started to come… The familiar feelings as his body started to lock up, muscles flexing. The hitch in his rough breaths. The way his cock seemed to swell and stiffen, right before the orgasm peaked.
And fuck, that feeling…
He groaned into my neck, lost in pleasure as my body gripped his, savoring his release… and I felt my own climax building. I was on the edge, my body raw with desire, every nerve humming and striving for that peak…
I rubbed myself against him, trembling, and the slight movement was enough to set me off. I cried out, biting his shoulder as the pleasure soared through my body and my head spun.
When we’d both panted through our release and started kissing again, making out even as we fought to catch our breath… wrapped in one another’s arms, our bodies still locked together… I felt it. I felt how different this was.
I didn’t want to avoid this.
I wanted to stay right here in Zane’s arms and feel this.
I wanted to feel his love for me.
I wanted to love him, and I didn’t even feel scared. In this moment… there was so much love and I was so full of it… there was no room for fear.
I knew we’d end up here, naked together, eventually. Sooner or later… we’d be here again.
But this time… the sex was different. Instead of some desperate, anger-fueled frenzy or some brutal tug-of-war, it was like jumping off a cliff—together.
Like plummeting into a space where nothing existed except us.
It was like falling… deep. Deep into something I’d never be able to understand until I was in it.
It wasn’t just what I felt for Zane or what he felt for me.
It wasn’t just being in love.
It was what we became together.
It was what we were to each other and what we became in one another’s arms. Something we could never be without each other and something that didn’t exist outside this space. Something that just had to be, that maybe was meant to be; something that was so right, I couldn’t have launched any kind of battle against it if I’d tried.
It was me and Zane together, and there was nothing like it in the world.
There was a part of me that always knew this would happen… That if I ever really let Zane in, I’d fall for him so fucking hard and so deep I’d never get out.
It was like he said at the tattoo parlor…
Dirty Like Zane: A Dirty Rockstar Romance (Dirty, Book 6) Page 24