by Virna DePaul
“Now what?”
“How do you feel about a nipple piercing?” she says with a wicked smile that tells me she’s just joking. That she expects me to chicken out any second now.
How do I feel? Like I’d sooner have my balls in a vice than let anyone, even her, stick a needle in my nipple.
Obviously reading my expression, she shakes her head and waves her hand. “Got it. Never mind. It does hurt like hell, something I know first-hand.”
I swallow hard as my gaze drops to her chest. I see no sign that her nipples are pierced, but then again she’s wearing a bra. God, I need to see them. Touch and taste them. But first, I have to respond to the challenge she’s thrown down.
“Let’s do it.”
Her eyebrows pop up in surprise. “Hunter, you don’t have to—”
“Baby, you want to talk or you want to hurt me? I know you’re just chomping at the bit to do it.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she mutters almost so softly I don’t hear her.
“What was that?”
She stares at me, then presses her lips together. “Fine. You want to play chicken? Sit down.”
Damn, there’s something about the way she seems to think she’s in control that turns me on.
I purse my lips, asking myself if I’m really going to go through with this, but when she cocks a brow at me, I sit.
“Good boy,” she purrs after I slip down into the chair, the leather cool against my back.
She digs in the top drawer of the toolbox and produces a pre-packaged set of needles and then turns to me. I just about swallow my entire throat into my stomach, but try to remain brave on the outside. The last thing I can have is her thinking I’m weak.
She purses her lips as she slides her hands into a pair of latex gloves. The smacking of the latex against her flesh makes my cock skip.
“Are you sure about this, Hunter? Because like I said, you don’t have to—”
“I want to do it.” Inside, I’m panicking a little, but how bad can it be? “Hell, pierce them both.”
“How about we just stick to one for now?” She turns to me and pushes a silver cart beside me. She places the packaged kit onto the tray, and then soaks a paper towel with alcohol.
“This is going to be cold.” Gently, she swipes my left nipple clean with the alcohol and then throws the towel into the trash.
While she’s turned away, I exhale a series of short breaths trying to prepare myself for what’s to come. I haven’t had a needle near me since the last time I received shots in college, but I can’t tell her that. She’ll pounce right on my fears and take advantage of them.
When she finally turns back to me with the needle in hand, my vision goes blurry. It takes all the manly strength I have in my entire soul to remain conscious.
"Jesus, you look like you've seen a ghost! You sure you want to go through with this?"
“Shit,” I chuckle. “You’re just going to call me out like that?” I shake my head defiantly. “Nah, I’m good.”
There's no way I’m backing down. I can't let her think I'm weak. For some reason, I need to prove to her I’m just as manly as Rob. Hell, maybe, for the first time in my life, I’m feeling the need to prove it to myself. Because this chick is seriously messing with my head in ways no one ever has.
She rolls her eyes again, and uses her elbow to push stray strands of hair from her face. She’s silent, as if she’s a predator or something, as she approaches and when she finally pinches my nipple tight with a latex-covered hand, I have no choice left but to force my eyes closed.
“Okay, take a deep breath.”
I do what she says, even as I feel my toes curling in my shoes, bracing for the pain.
Fucking hell, what have I gotten myself into?
Chapter Six
Dani
He looks so much different with his eyes closed and his face flushed red. His manliness and crazy good looks are tempered somewhat by a vulnerability that, if anything, makes him even more gorgeous. Carefully, I insert the needle, being efficient but gentle. Of course, he winces anyway. My stomach clenches and I barely stop myself from making a soothing sound or even weirder, bending down to kiss his forehead.
Even though he agreed to this, I hate that I’m causing him pain. Hate that I might have contributed to goading him into proving his manliness somehow. I’d like to say I don’t understand men. That I don’t get why they always have to act tough.
But that really would be like the kettle calling the pot black.
Men don’t have a monopoly on pretending they can withstand pain.
For a moment, I’m weary. Once again, I want to comfort him. I want to take him in my arms. I want him to do the same to me. But who am I kidding? We are engaged in a battle, one where my brother’s future is at stake, and for that reason I will not surrender. Once the needle is pushed all the way through, I murmur, “That’s the worst of it.”
He’s trying to hide how much it hurts—and I’ve seen tough ass men pass the hell out the second the needle punctures their nipple. I place a barbell into his nipple and then pull the needle free. “And just like that we’re done.”
His eyes flash open and he blinks several times. “Awesome.” He grunts in pain. “Didn’t even hurt.” For a few seconds, he peers down at his freshly pierced nipple, which I have to admit looks sexy as hell, before he sits up. “Now why the hell are you ignoring my calls?”
Wow, I think to myself. He really wants me to answer his damn calls.
“I need to put a bandage on you. Then I’m gonna pack up my—”
He grabs my arm to stop me from moving away. My eyes drift up to his, and there’s a storm brewing in his eyes. A storm of lust and wanting.
“My calls, Dani.” His voice is soft but demanding.
“Um, well…” I force a smile and break away from his touch. I struggle for a plausible reason, when in truth, the reason I haven’t called him back is I’m struggling with how attracted I am to him. I don’t fucking know why. He’s not my type. He’s the furthest thing from it. I like my men tattooed and pierced. I like my men bad.
Everything I know about Hunter screams he’s a bad boy, just not the type I’m used to.
So there it is, there’s the reason I’m ignoring his calls. I don't trust him. Period. And I certainly don't trust myself.
“What’s the matter, Dani?” he taunts. “You running from how I make you feel? Because if it helps, you’ve been making me feel a whole lot since we’ve met.”
Yes, I want him. Badly. In a way I don't understand. But there's no way I’m going to admit it to him.
When I remain silent, he sighs. “So you asked about my nipple piercing. Does that mean I can ask about yours?”
I cock a brow.
“What kind of metal do you have? Hoops?”
“Sometimes. Currently I have bars.”
“Can I see?”
I laugh. “You just never give up, do you?”
“Not when I really want something, Dani,” he growls. “And I really want you.”
“Do you now? Or do you really want Chad, because I believe that's the real reason we're talking—” I turn away, mostly because I can’t stand how sexy he looks sitting there shirtless.
But Hunter grabs my hand and forces me to look at him. “I want to sign Chad, but that’s not what this is about. I won't bullshit you, Dani, because you're not the type of woman who falls for that crap. So I'll be blunt. No, you're not my type. Not my typical conquest. You're different, and I like that. I like you, but more than that, I'm craving this body of yours and I know you're craving mine. What would be so wrong about us having a little fun?”
I feel myself growing wetter by the second. I so badly want to fight him, to tell him to fuck off. Instead, I pull my hand out of his and softly touch the faint bruise by his eye. It’s almost gone, but…
“Does your eye still hurt?”
“The pain ebbs and flows.”
Bullshit, I think t
o myself, but I’ll play along. “Maybe I should kiss it,” I whisper, and place one hand on the side of the leather chair. Again, it feels like I’ve just started a game of chicken, but the truth is, I’m just saying what I want for once.
“Maybe you should,” he says. “And I could return the favor. Kiss you where it hurts the most.” He taunts me with his dark eyes, pulling me in with the most seductive of looks. “Nothing to do with your brother. Let’s just have some fun.”
“I don’t need you to kiss anything of mine.” My heart thumps against my chest, racing on adrenaline and lust. “I don’t need—”
“Yes, you do.” He reaches for my hand again, pulling me down into his lap. I’m careful to not brush against his freshly pierced nipple. “I can see it in your eyes.”
“You’re full of shit.” But I can’t bring myself to escape his lap, to crawl away from him. I can’t bring myself to commit fully to the lie. “You should leave,” I say very unconvincingly.
“I don't think that's what you want. Not really.”
“Really?” I steady one palm on his tan shoulder. “You think you know what I want more than I do?”
“Like I said, I can see it in your eyes.” He combs one hand through my hair and stares into my eyes for what feels like an eternity. I'm in his lap, his erection is pressing against me and it takes everything in me to not kiss him. But I can't give in. I can't.
“You want me to kiss you, Dani. Just say it for me, and I'll make it happen. I'll give you everything you've ever wanted and more.”
“I—” I want to tell him to fuck off, but the way he's speaking to me sets off every switch in my body, turning me on until it’s almost painful. Most men are intimidated by me. They expect me to be the dominant one in bed. But Hunter is different. It’s clear he wants to dominate me, and that he’d make me love every second of it. “I want you to kiss me.”
The words escape my lips before I even realize what's happening, and Hunter listens. He presses those delicious lips to mine and literally takes my breath away.
It feels wrong. Precisely because it feels so right. So intimate. I break away from his kiss and climb to my feet.
Hunter just looks at me, and for a moment, I forget everything—all my fears, all my doubts, everything. He looks at me as if I'm the sexiest damn woman he's ever seen, and truth be told, in that moment he makes me believe it.
How can I let this opportunity pass me by? Why can’t I be daring for once? Reckless?
Why can’t I live a little?
As I reach for the buttons on my jeans, Hunter is there, helping me, his hands fumbling along with mine. He helps me slip my shirt off over my head, kissing me long and hard. I’m shaking from both anticipation and nerves, but I want this. I want him. And I'm tired of denying myself.
I slip my bra strap down my arm, his eyes watching my every movement. I shift my shoulders upwards, teasing him before letting the bra fall to the ground. I step toward him slowly, deliberately taking my time and once I reach him, he shifts into action.
He curls his fingers under my panties and rips them from my body.
I’m left standing completely bare in front of him, and it’s terrifying. My first instinct is to cover myself, because when it comes to him, I’m ashamed of my body. I’m ashamed of my curves. Normally, I’m a confident woman, but there’s something about him, something that’s different. Something that makes me want to run. I’m terrified that now that he’s seen what I look like naked, he’s not going to want me anymore. I’m nervous, shaking, heart racing.
But when he reaches for me and pulls me back into his lap, any worries I had cease to exist. For a moment, he leans me back and studies my breasts, then touches the small silver bars piercing my nipples. “Sexy as fuck,” he mutters.
His breath is hot and heavy, his chest heaving with desire and need. My eyes bore into his, watching and waiting. I can feel the erection in his slacks throbbing against my vulnerable pussy.
He lowers his head and flicks his tongue against my nipples, lashing them lightly, playing with my metal, then blowing on them, making me whimper.
His gaze meets mine. “Sensitive?”
“Very.”
“Good,” he says. As he continues to lick my nipples, he lowers his hand between my legs and caresses me. I give in to his touch, rocking against his hand for a moment, and it feels so good I actually wonder if he can be the one. If this time, things will be different. The possibility has me panting and impatient to get him naked.
I raise my body up slightly so that I can get a good handle on his belt buckle. I make quick work of it, unbutton his pants, and he does the rest. He pushes his pants and underwear down just enough so that his rock hard cock jumps free.
I feel it before I see it. Long. Hard. Smooth. Ready.
I raise my palm to my mouth and wet it with my tongue before reaching back down to stroke his throbbing hardness.
“Fuck,” he groans, throwing his head back against the back of the leather chair.
I continue to stroke him, preparing him to fill me completely. And when I think he’s ready, even when I’m not so sure I am, I raise my hips to angle myself above him and brace a hand on either shoulder, feeling the heat of his cock against my wanton cunt.
His eyes flash open and he grips my waist. I take a deep breath before sinking down onto him, deeper and deeper until I’m filled to the hilt.
I take a moment to adjust to his girth. His hands gripping me, his eyes burning, he’s screaming for me to move. But I’m not ready. Not quite yet. I take several trembling breaths before I shift on his cock, clear my throat and lift myself up, climbing his hardness with my pussy and then lowering myself back onto him.
I go slow, painfully slow for the both of us, because he’s thicker than I’m used to. He’s not content with the slow pace though, I can feel it in his muscles as he grips me tighter. So, I throw any concerns I have to the wind and just decide to enjoy the ride. I offer him a mischievous grin before I begin bucking against him with a newfound vigor.
I think it takes him by surprise; his eyes roll into the back of his head as I ride him with reckless abandon. I’m a fan of being on top because I fucking hate surrendering control. I think he’s the same way, but by the way he begins to thrust upwards inside me, I think he’s content to be exactly where he is.
“So fucking tight,” he moans. “You going to come all over my cock?”
“Oh God, yes. Please, Hunter. Please, baby,” I moan right back at him and then shrink inside because I just called him baby.
Sweat drips down my forehead, and down my breasts. I feel the flesh of his stomach dampening too. Our bodies slap together, and I pray that there’s nobody left in the shop even though logically I know everyone’s long gone by now.
The tattoo artist inside me begins to worry about his fresh piercing. He’s supposed to avoid sweating for a few hours afterward, but how can I bring myself to care when he feels so damn perfect inside me?
As his belt buckle slaps against my ass, he reaches up to fondle my breasts, caressing my nipples and playing with my piercings with hands that are both strong and gentle. I throw my head back and steady my hands on his thighs, then feel the warmth of his hot mouth around one nipple, his tongue once again flicking the barbell that runs through it.
“Yes,” I scream, throwing myself forward so that his face is buried between my breasts. I ride him harder, faster. And then harder still until the chair gives out from underneath us and is thrown back into a full recline.
It startles us both.
He lets out the hottest fucking chuckle while I steady myself above him. I waste no time getting back into the flow of things, this time enjoying an even better view of him.
His hair is slick and tousled, matted to the edges of his forehead with sweat. The muscles of his chest are hardened and red, and his abs are made of steel. I trail my hands over his long frame, reveling in every edge and groove.
I ride him even harder than before, thi
nking maybe it really will actually happen this time for me. Maybe I’ll finally be able to reach my peak with a man. After all, this is Hunter Kiss. If anyone can do it for me, surely he can. Only as one minute and then another goes by, I realize my body has betrayed me once again, allowing me to go only so far, ratcheting up my desire to an unbearable level with no intention of providing me with the ultimate relief.
The frustration and shame of it makes me want to cry but I can’t. I can’t let him see how broken I am. Instead, I pour everything I have into bringing him pleasure and driving him over the edge. “Give it to me,” I say. “Shoot your come inside me. I want it, Hunter. Now.”
“Fuck,” he cries out as he bucks his hips upward. Before too long, his fingers dig painfully into my sides and he’s shooting his seed deep inside me. I watch as he orgasms, his entire body straining. Every muscle. Every vein. He’s like a fucking Greek God and I’m so mesmerized by the sight of him that I don’t even think to do my usual routine of faking that I’m coming at the same time he is.
When he comes down from his high, I rest my forehead against his, then immediately straighten when his eyes open. “You didn’t come,” he says, his voice harsh and breathy. His palm cups my ass, but I brush it aside, his touch too much to bear at this point.
“I did.”
“Bullshit.”
I scramble away from him, nearly weeping when I feel him slip out of me. Acutely aware of his semen dripping out of me and covering my thighs, I swipe my panties off the ground. “I have to go.”
“Dani—”
“You need to make sure you keep that nipple cleaned,” I say as I climb into my jeans.
Without putting my shirt on, I pace to the toolbox and retrieve a piercing aftercare brochure. I pass it to him but he knocks it aside.
“Dani, come here.”