by Carian Cole
I lock the door behind Storm, so no one else wanders in, and finally turn my full attention to Ivy.
“You look gorgeous,” I say. “You are rocking that fuckin’ hair color.”
She smiles and looks down a little, her cheeks blushing. “Thank you. My daughter helped me color it.”
“I love it. Come on. Let’s go back.”
Damn, I want to pull her into my arms and kiss her, and just forget about her tattoo for now. This time, when she changes her clothes, she comes back wearing these cute little black shorts with red hearts. I’m loving the changes I see in her today. She’s growing confident, and I’m hoping I’ve helped bring that out of her.
After she settles down in the leather chair, I wheel my stool closer to her and run my hand gently over her tattoo, which looks awesome spanning her leg.
“Did you wear these for me?” I ask her, my voice low, my fingers skimming the edge of the shorts. She nods and smiles shyly, and that just ignites my desire for her even more. Her shyness turns me on wicked bad.
“I like.” She watches my hand move to rest on her outer thigh. “I’m gonna finish this tonight, and I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.” I look up at her face, finding her eyes wide, and she’s chewing her bottom lip. “So what’s it gonna be, doll? Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night? I’d like to get you out of client mode.”
She nods, still not saying a word. “You sure?” I ask her, and she nods yet again, her eyes glazed as I let my fingertips brush just beneath the edge of her shorts, touching her silky thigh.
I bend down and kiss her leg, right above her knee, and a small gasp escapes her. Fuck, she is so easy to turn on. Bending her leg up, I kiss the sensitive spot behind her knee then slowly drag my lips up the inside of her thigh, tasting her sweet flesh. I stop just a few inches from the apex of her thighs and gently graze her with my teeth.
“Lukas . . .” she whispers. Her hand goes to my head, her fingers in my hair, and all I want is to feel her yanking my hair and hear her moan my name while I give her all the attention she is starving for and deserves to have. I want nothing more than to give this woman my heart, body, and soul, and hope that she’ll give me the same in return.
Lifting my head up, I catch her eyes with mine. “I’m not going to do this here.” I sit up and reluctantly pull away from her, which is sheer torture for me. As much as I want her, I’m not going to fool around with her on my tattoo chair. This is where I work, and I’ve already crossed way too many inappropriate lines. More importantly, she deserves so much better than this. When I touch her and kiss her, I want it to be in the right place at the right time.
“What’s wrong?” she asks me, nervousness lacing her voice.
“Nothing at all. I’m just not going to start something I can’t finish the right way. I want to have a real date with you, and if we go further, I sure as hell don’t want to do it here in my work area. I want you in my bed, and I want a lot of time.”
Her lips part, but no words come out. She nods silently instead. I wish she would talk to me instead of nodding all the time, but the idea that I have such an effect on her that she can’t speak intrigues me. It means she feels something, and that’s what I really want.
Reaching across my worktable, I hold up the framed drawing that I made for her of the girl with the butterfly hair.
“This is for you. Don’t forget to take it home.”
“You framed it for me? You didn’t have to do that.” She takes it from me and holds it in her lap, studying it. “I love this so much, Lukas. It’s gorgeous.”
“It’s how I see you.”
Her mouth drops, and she’s speechless again. I’ve never met a woman so easy to make happy.
“My cousin Storm that you just met?” I grab my gun and prepare to get to work. “He was stuck in a truck during that bad snow storm we had a few weeks ago, with a girl he picked up on the side of the road whose car got stuck in a ditch.”
“What? Are you serious?”
“Yup. They were trapped in his truck for like an entire weekend.” I would love to be trapped in a truck with Ivy for two days. The things I could do with her to keep her warm. . . . Fuckin’ Storm has all the luck.
“Did he know her?”
I shake my head. “No, not at all, and I guess things got a little heated, if you know what I mean. Now, he’s got a thing for her, but it turns out she’s got a long-term boyfriend.”
“Oh, wow. That’s crazy. What’s he going to do?”
“The same thing I’m trying to do with you. Make her fall in love with him.”
I swear I can see her stop breathing as she absorbs my words. Then finally, she reacts with a hesitant smile. “I don’t think either of you are going to have to ‘make us’, Lukas.”
My hands shake and my brain derails at what she’s hinting at, making me stop working before I actually do screw up her tattoo.
“The weekend after Christmas, his band is playing at a club not far from here. I’d love it if you came with me?” If she says yes, it will be the perfect opportunity for me to show her that I’m also a musician, rather than telling her. I kinda want to surprise her and just let her hear me play.
“Like a concert?”
“Yeah, but small scale. It’s in a club. I think you’ll like it. My brother’s in the band, and all my cousins. And the girl from the blizzard is gonna be there.”
“All right,” she says hesitantly. “I’ll go with you. I’d love to meet some of your family and hear them play.”
I look up at her from under the shroud of hair hanging over my face, my gun poised just over her calf. “You don’t know how fucking happy I am that you’re saying yes to me now, Ivy. I was starting to feel like a creepy stalker, asking you a hundred times.”
She fidgets a little, moving her legs. “I’m still a little freaked about the age difference, but you asked me to give you a chance, so that’s what I’m doing.” She grips the edge of the chair as I tattoo the spot right above her ankle. “You kinda made yourself irresistible,” she adds.
“I know it hurts here, but it will be over in a sec,” I say, trying to hold her leg still. “So you think I’m irresistible?”
She flashes me a beautiful smile. “Are you fishing for compliments, Lukas?”
“Shamelessly.”
“Yes, you’re irresistible. Happy now?”
“Incredibly. And guess what? We’re done.” I wheel away from her and lay my gun on my workbench.
Surprise and excitement light up her face. “Really? It’s really done?”
“Yup. Go over to the full-length mirror and check it out. Let me know if you want me to add anything.”
She runs to the mirror and examines the tattoo that starts just below her hip and travels down to her ankle. It’s gorgeous, and I’m so proud of her for getting through such a big piece as her first.
“I love it!” she squeals. I come up behind her and put my arms around her, looking over her shoulder at us in the mirror. She stills then leans back against my body, fitting perfectly against me.
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper against her ear. “Look at us together, Ivy.” I slide my hand slowly down to rest on her hip. “We look perfect together.” She nods, mesmerized, watching my hand move across her stomach in the mirror. My inked arms look wild against the white of her blouse, and I wish I could take a picture of us like this. I slide my hand up between her breasts, over her throat, and to her cheek, turning her face to mine. Her aqua eyes darken, and her lids fall closed as I kiss her softly on the lips, stealing a sigh from her.
When I pull away, her eyes open slowly and she blinks at me. “How do you do that?” she whispers breathlessly.
“Do what?” I turn her in my arms so she’s facing me.
“I don’t know . . . you make me feel like I’m in a dream. I don’t know how else to explain it.”
I push her hair away from her face and tuck it behind her ear. “Think about how it will feel when
I make love to you.”
She puts her hands on my chest and stares at the black crucifix hanging around my neck.
“I’m afraid to think about that.” Her voice is uncertain, her fingers shaking as she touches my necklace.
“Why?” I stroke her hair, not forcing her to look at me but wanting to comfort her because I can see she’s fighting an inner battle again.
“I just . . . This is so hard.”
I kiss the top of her head. “Ivy, you can tell me anything. I hope you’ve figured out that I’m a communicator. Don’t shut me out—that drives me crazy. Whatever’s on your mind, just spit it out and we’ll deal with it.”
She takes a deep breath. “I’m just . . . worried. I’ve only been with one man, and you’re a lot more . . . experienced than he was. Or is. I can tell you are, just by the way you touch and kiss. And my body . . . I’ve had two kids . . .”
I don’t tell her that my first lover was a twenty-two-year-old fitness model, and I was just sixteen when we hooked up. Erika was my best friend Finn’s older sister, and I spent a lot of time at their house. Yeah, it was wrong on more levels than I can count, but I learned a lot about what women want, how to make them crazy, how to go slow when the time is right, and how to pound the shit out of them when they want it hard. Erika brought me out of my shell, and helped me find some much-needed self-confidence. There was no love there, but we liked each other and had a lot of fun. She moved to England years ago, and is now happily married.
I gently lift her face with my hands so I can look into her eyes. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m already attracted to you like fucking crazy, and I’m not a shallow person. I’m interested in a lot more than looks, but just for the record, I think you’re beautiful and sexy and adorable. I’ve jerked off about a hundred times thinking about you.”
“Lukas!” The look of utter shock on her face is priceless.
“Hey, you need to know these things so you believe what I’m telling you.” I take her hand in mine and bring it between our bodies, pressing her palm against my rock hard cock. “Feel that? The cock doesn’t lie, baby. That’s all from you.”
Her eyes go wide like silver dollars. “Holy shit . . .” she says under her breath, pulling her hand away, all flustered.
“I want you to touch me, but only when you’re ready. I might push you a little, but that’s only because I want you. Anything that happens between us will be at your pace, okay?” She nods and swallows. “You say stop, I’ll stop. Always. And you should know, I actually have always wanted to be with someone who hasn’t had a ton of experience, but I also don’t want to date a kid or someone immature. So . . . You. Are. Perfect.”
She shakes her head at me and grins. “You’re too good to be real. There’s gotta be something wrong with you . . .” Her hands slowly slide up my arms and rest on my biceps.
“Trust me. There’s a lot wrong with me, Ivy. I have a hardcore jealous streak. I’ve battled depression for most of my life. I lived in a dumpster for three months. I believe in things most people don’t. I’m an outcast. I don’t love much, but when I do, I love hard and fierce.”
She hangs on every word, her grip tightening around my arms.
“I want to know what fierce feels like,” she whispers, her eyes looking up at me innocently through her long dark lashes.
I pull her body closer to mine, holding her tight against me so she can feel me again. “I have a feeling you will, doll.”
She goes up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. “I want one more thing on my tattoo,” she says, moving out from under my arm and heading back for the chair.
Frowning, I follow her. “Okay, tell me.”
“I want a little x and an o, to remind me of you, because you give the best hugs and kisses.”
I wasn’t expecting that at all. I was thinking she was going to want another butterfly, or maybe another little flower, but I never imagined she’d want something that was special for us. “Are you sure?” I ask her.
She nods enthusiastically. “Definitely. I’ll let you pick where.”
“I’m really honored by this, ya know,” I grab my gun and find a nice place on her leg where I can add the two letters without detracting from the design. “There,” I announce when I’m finished. “Now, my hugs and kisses are on your body for the rest of your life,” I tease.
“Just what I wanted.”
I get up and put my tools away, afraid if I don’t put some distance between us that I’m going to ravish her right here. “You better be careful what you wish for,” I say, glancing over my shoulder at her. “You just might get it.”
After sharing a sizzling kiss good-bye with Ivy in the parking lot again, my blood is racing through my veins. I know I won’t be able to sleep, so I take out my violin and play a few of the new songs I’ve been working on. The resonation of the strings calms me, always has. Even though I bought a brand new violin a few years ago with a little bit of my inheritance, I still play my first violin—the one I found in my great-grandparents’ attic when I was seven years old and taught myself to play. It’s ancient, and I have no idea who it originally belonged to, but it’s one of the best—a Strad. Two years ago, I shipped it to London to have a renowned violin maker repair it for me, who begged me to sell it to him and offered me an insane amount of money. I refused. This violin is too much a part of me to let go, no matter how much it’s worth. I don’t need money, but I do need the things that calm me and bring me peace.
And now, Ivy excites me but also brings me a new sense of peace I’ve never felt before, not even from my music or art. Fighting the urge all night to carry her up here to my apartment was exhausting but worth it. Tomorrow night, she’ll be here, and I can’t wait to see her in my personal space, surrounded by the things I love.
Later, after I put my violin back in its case, I send Ivy a text.
Me: Is it tomorrow yet?
By the time she replies eight minutes later, I’m already in my bed.
Ivy: Technically, yes, it’s after midnight yesterday, so it’s today, which is tomorrow.
Me: Holy fuck, that hurt my brain.
Ivy: LOL
Me: What are you doing?
Ivy: I’m in bed.
Me: Me, too. Were you thinking about me?
Ivy: What do you think?
Me: I think yes. ;)
Ivy: Then I guess I was :)
Me: Don’t stop.
Ivy: How could I? You’re irresistible, remember?
Me: Did I tell you how beautiful you looked today?
Ivy: Yes, thank you. You make me feel all shivery.
Me: Good shivery or bad shivery?
Ivy: Definitely good :)
Me: Then get ready for more. I have a lot more shivers to give you. ;)~
CHAPTER 12
IVY
LUKAS WANTED to pick me up and bring me to his place for dinner, but that felt silly to me, so I insisted on driving to his place. I think his chivalry is sweet, but I feel better having my own car in case I want to leave for whatever reason. Lindsay yelled at me when I told her earlier, telling me I was being difficult and that I should be grateful he has manners. She then ended the call reminding me to get on top of him.
I fall a little bit in love with him when I see what he’s wearing as he lets me in his door. He’s got on a black button-down shirt that’s unbuttoned to the middle of his chest, faded jeans, and black and white Converse. He pulls off casual and sexy so effortlessly, and the Converse tug at a little piece of the high school girl that still lives inside me.
“You look pretty,” he says, pulling me inside and shutting the door behind me. Taking my hand, he leads me to the living room. “Make yourself comfy. I’m just gonna go check dinner.”
“Okay.” Taking off my coat and laying it over the arm of the couch, I look around his house, which is beautiful and exotic, just as I imagined it would be. Just like him.
The old stone church he lives in has been turned into a two stor
y house, with the tattoo parlor taking up about half of the first floor, and the other half being this huge living room, kitchen, dining area, and bathroom. The tattoo parlor is completely separate, with its own entrance at the front of the house. A beautiful stairway leads upstairs to where I assume the bedrooms are. Part of the second floor is open with a wooden railing to a loft area, giving the house a very open feel.
“Do you need any help?” I call out toward the kitchen.
“No,” he hollers back
I continue to gaze around his house. Stained wood beams run across the ceiling and walls. The floors are dark hardwood with colored rugs beneath a large, black leather sectional couch and mahogany coffee table. Two purple velvet accent chairs sit off to the side, turned toward a huge flat screen television mounted on the wall. The tall stained glass windows are beautiful and timeless, and give off a warm, colorful glow to the room. Wide archways with stone accents divide the rooms. It’s just breathtaking and so rich looking, the kind of house you would see in a fantasy movie.
I slowly walk around the living room, admiring the artwork on the walls and the statues and trinkets perfectly displayed, lightly running my fingertips over the beautiful antique accent furniture, remembering how he told me he also liked to feel the depth of these treasures, and I want to feel what he feels.
“Hello.”
I jump about a mile, and then lean forward, not quite believing what I’m seeing . . . and hearing. In front of me is a huge black metal birdcage sitting atop a marble stand, and inside is a raven. A real raven. I step closer to the magnificent bird, who’s also eyeing me with his amber eyes.
“Well, hello there,” I say, captivated. The bird is beautiful, as black as night, tilting his head at me.
“Don’t talk to him!” Lukas shouts from the kitchen.