“I got it for just this occasion.” She puts her hand on my thigh and leisurely strokes the material covering my skin.
This is going to be the longest dinner of my life.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
SKETCH
We’re walking along the riverfront after eating the best meal both of us have had in years. My hand is in hers, and we’re making our way towards the alcove. It’s shut off from the rest of the walkway, and this time of night, I think we’re both hoping we can be alone there. She didn’t mention anything during dinner, and neither did I, but that doesn’t mean it’s not on our minds.
We get there, and she turns to look out over the river. The wind is a little chilly coming off of it, but it feels good against my heated skin. I put my arms around her waist as she leans against the railing that separates this area from the river. “You look absolutely gorgeous in this dress,” I tell her, kissing the side of her neck.
She lets her neck fall farther to the side, opening up a bunch of real estate for me. “I got it just for you, and your reaction hasn’t disappointed so far.” She grabs one of my hands at her waist and brings it up to cup her breast. Nipple play has become her favorite thing in the world since the rings have healed. “It’s strapless,” she tells me, already breathing harder.
I push my hand inside her dress and lift the weight of her breast out of the bra, immediately rubbing my thumb against the metal there. It’s cool in the wind, and I know the temperature change gets her every time. The warmness of my skin will heat the metal and then the wind will cool it down. She’s grasping the railing, moaning as I use the tips of my fingers to tug on the hard nub.
“Sketch,” she moans, turning so that we’re facing each other.
I take advantage, dipping my head so that I can capture the flesh inside my mouth. I use my tongue to swirl around the tip, nipping slightly with my teeth. She threads her fingers through my hair, holding me tightly against her.
“Don’t stop,” she begs.
I’m never going to stop; there’s something inside of me that comes alive when I’m pleasuring her. My dick gets off on getting her off. It’s hard against the fly of my pants, pressing against the material, wanting an escape. “I won’t, baby,” I promise as I move my lips up to her neck, threading my fingers into her hair, pulling her mouth down to mine. I taste it like I own it, and I know now I do, and she gives me free reign. “Unzip my pants and take me out,” I tell her, pushing us back so that we’re deep in the alcove.
I lift her against the wall, protecting her body with mine in case anyone comes around. We like to be adventurous, but I never want anyone to see what I have. When we do this, we’re quick, and I make sure she’s quiet. She’s undoing my pants, pushing them down just so they’re at my hips and I’m in her hands. Hot, hard, and heavy. I push up against her, and that’s when I realize she’s not wearing panties.
“Fuckin’ A, Nina. You’ve been bare all night?” I question, knowing the answer might make me blow in her hand.
She nods, biting her bottom lip. “I have another surprise for you too,” she tells me as she gives my cock two jerks and puts me at the entrance to the heaven I call her pussy.
“What’s that?” I’m not sure I can handle much more, but if she’s giving it to me, I’ll handle anything I need to.
“I went off of my birth control two weeks ago, Sketch.”
And like that, I’m done for. It’s like she’s given me the key to the world. I plunge into her, moaning as her heat covers the head of my cock and bathes the shaft. I’m more turned on than normal, and given what she’s just told me, I’m ready to blow.
“Yes.” She throws her head back against the concrete wall. “Own me. Fuck me, Sketch. I’ve wanted you all day, don’t make me wait.”
I push in and withdraw, spreading her legs wider when I pull completely out. Moving my mouth down to her tit, I pull on her nipple as I shove back in. She’s panting and my legs are shaking, my fingers are digging into her ass cheeks, and I’m biting my lip to keep from coming.
She’s grinding against me, digging those heels into my ass, scratching my shoulders as she moves up against the wall. “Where you goin’?” I ask as I pull out slightly and then plunge back in.
“It’s too much,” she pants. “You’re so hard.”
“I know. You’ve got me this hard.” I move my hands from her ass cheeks, using my cock and body weight to hold her up. Now I palm her breast, pulling roughly on the piercings, shoving myself deeper inside of her.
She accommodates me by spreading her thighs just a little more. She’s taking every inch of me, and she’s doing it like a pro, I can feel her excitement as it runs down the length of my dick. This is messy, this is passionate, this is love, and this is us.
I can feel myself getting close; I can feel the pressure on my spine. I latch onto her ring with my mouth, pulling slightly against the resistance of her skin. I use one hand to thumb her clit, and I use the other hand to put my palm over her mouth. I feel her tighten against me, I hear her muffled scream, and I feel the clenching as her body spasms. She milks me, and I press my head into her chest and let myself go.
Just like that, we’re a mess of quivering limbs and panting breaths. It’s like that more often than not with us now. She giggles as I drop her legs from around my waist. She’s discreetly trying to clean up while I’m tucking myself back into my pants as well as I can. I’m still hard, and they’re difficult to button. Neither one of us wants to get caught, so we grab hands and quickly make our way to our respective vehicles.
“I’ll meet you at home,” I tell her, pressing her up against her car and kissing her hard.
“For round two?” she asks, her voice hopeful.
“Fuck, yes,” I growl against her mouth.
“I love you, Sketch,” she tells me, kissing me sweetly, taking the moment down a notch.
I pull back and look her in the eyes. “I love you too.”
We break apart, and I let her get in front of me, while I follow her home. I think about the months that have passed since I saw her walk out of our front door. So many things have changed. Almost nothing is the same as it once was, and I realize how much happier I am now. I tell myself I’ll never take that happiness for granted, because it’s been ripped from me once, and I know how that feels.
Back when we first split up, I selfishly said Nina would have to crawl back to me in order for me to take her back. At the time, I didn’t realize what a sacrifice that was, I didn’t realize she was the brave one, she was the strong one.
Looking at our relationship now, I realize we’ve both put the work in; we’ve both put the time in. This is no longer one-sided, for either of us.
Together we’re making it work, together we’re making a life, and hopefully together we’re making a family.
Epilogue
SKETCH
I’m cleaning up my station, laughing at something Nina has just said, when Jackie walks over to us, a look on her face that tells me she has something to say but she’s not sure how I’ll react.
“I know you’re about to leave, but you have a walk-in that asked specifically for you.”
It’s not unusual for people to ask for me, but in the last year, especially, I’ve tried to cut back on how much I accept. I glance over at Nina and our son Jackson. He’s sitting on her lap, chewing on a teether. I’m hoping he’s going to wear himself out. Teething is for sure wearing me out. I’m not getting to spend quality time with his mom in our bed, and my eyes aren’t seeing the backs of my eyelids nearly enough. I’m praying for one full night of sleep or one full night of debauchery sometime soon.
“Does he want a tat or a consultation?” I can’t help but ask. I’ve always got to know.
Jackie speaks softly. “It’s a consult. He and his wife lost a baby yesterday. His name is Kyle, and he wants you to do something with the death certificate and wrist band they gave him.”
I look at Nina, and I see her swallow. I k
now what she’s thinking, because I’m thinking it too. “Bring him back here.” When Jackson is here, I tattoo in a room off the main area so he can watch me and I can watch him. It means a lot to me. I hope he inherits my love of art.
I stand and hold my hand out to the man as he walks into the room. I can see by the look on his face that he’s wrecked. “I’m Sketch,” I tell him, shaking his hand and putting my other hand on his shoulder. “My sympathies, Kyle.”
The other guy nods. “I appreciate it.” And I can see the tears in his eyes. “This is what they gave us of his.”
I look down and see he’s holding the death certificate with the footprints on it as well as a hospital band. “Do you want me to memorialize this?” I ask, my brain already moving a million miles an hour.
“If you could,” he answers, his voice thin as he looks over at my wife and son.
“My apologies, that’s my wife, Nina, and our son Jackson.” I glance over at Nina, and she nods. “We had him a year after we lost our first child at sixteen weeks.” I lift up my shirt and show him the footprints I have on my abdomen. “I’ll make sure I do this right, no worries,” I tell him.
He visibly relaxes. “If I interrupted something, I apologize,” Kyle says.
Nina gets up, puts Jackson in the playpen we keep there, and walks over to Kyle. “There’s nothing more important than what he does for people like you. We were just going to go out to dinner. In this case, I’ll go grab take-out.” She smiles at him. “Would you like something? Once he gets started, he’s gonna want your opinion, and we could be here a while.”
She takes his order and then comes over to me for mine. I lean back in my chair and wrap my arm around her leg, intimately squeezing her thigh. “Thanks, babe,” I whisper.
“We were there,” she says as she leans down. “He doesn’t need to be alone while you do this. I’m leaving Jackson if that’s okay.”
“I got it,” I tell her as I lean back down over my piece, closing my eyes until I see what I want to do.
I want to do something worth having until the end of time, like the love I have for my wife and son. Over the past two years, I’ve come to realize that the tattoos I do are like the love I have for them. They’re deep, ingrained in my soul as I transfer them to other people’s bodies, and they’re beautiful. Hardly any of them are perfect, but that’s what gives them character.
The Nina who walked out of here today understands that my job is just as important as hers; she gets that what I do is to make things okay for people who aren’t sure whether things can be okay again. I lean down over my paper, and I do what I do best—I start with a sketch.
The End
Note from Laramie
This book is a huge departure from my normal writing. I moved from third person to first person, and the writing took a decidedly sexual turn.
Sketch was a character I’ve wanted to write for over a year. It’s always bothered me when I see women leaving their husbands because their husbands work too hard. As someone who is a notorious workaholic, I wanted to explore that from the male’s perspective.
It was incredibly rewarding for me to do and I hope that you all enjoyed getting SKETCHED!
Laramie
About Laramie
Laramie Briscoe is the best-selling author of the Heaven Hill Series & the Rockin’ Country Series.
Since self-publishing her first book in May of 2013, Laramie Briscoe has published over 10 books. She’s appeared on the Top 100 Bestselling E-books Lists on iBooks, Amazon Kindle, Kobo, and Barnes & Noble. She’s been called “a very young Maya Banks” (Amazon reviewer) and her books have been accused of being “sexy, family-oriented, romances with heart”.
When she’s not writing alpha males who seriously love their women, she loves spending time with friends, reading, and marathoning shows on her DVR. Married to her high school sweetheart, Laramie lives in Bowling Green, KY with her husband (the Travel Coordinator) and a sometimes crazy cat named Beau.
Connect with Laramie
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www.laramiebriscoe.com
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Want to read another hot tattoo artist book?
Let me introduce you to Lukas by Carian Cole!
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Lukas synopsis
By: Carian Cole
Storm’s younger cousin.
Vandal’s little brother.
You’ve met him in the background.
The sweet one.
The nice one.
The one they can all rely on.
The good one.
He’s a tattoo artist. He plays metal and classical music – on the violin.
He’s got a body built for sin.
He’s 24.
In comes Ivy. She’s a 36 year old single mom who hasn’t dated in 18 years.
All she wanted was a tattoo.
She got a helluva lot more :)
Being good has never been so bad.
Sketch Page 13