Brax chuckled low in his throat and nodded. “Yeah. That’s not going to be fun.” He ruffled her hair with his hand. “C’mon. Let’s get you back to the shop. You need to get home, get some sleep.”
Annie kept hold of his arm when he stood, and Brax didn’t complain. He took one more long look around the room, at the pictures, at the life Annie had created on the walls. She was brilliant and her talent, her vision had been wasted at that ad agency.
“When do want to do my tattoo?” she asked, as they descended the stairs outside the art gallery. The dark, pre-dawn hours were quiet and still and in a way, full of promise. Brax held Annie close to his side when they got to street level.
“Do you still want it? I won’t make you honor the agreement. I’m not even sure who won.”
“Of course I still want it. Why wouldn’t I?”
“A cherry blossom signifies new life. You’ve already found and started yours.”
“Still fits me and it’s from you. It’s all from you, so yes, I still want it.”
“In the afternoon, then.”
“Joe’s due back Sunday, right?”
“Yep.”
“You won’t be done with it by then, will you?”
“Don’t think so. I have a few appointments. I might not get started on you until late.”
“You could work through the night.”
Brax smiled. “Yes, I suppose I could. What’s my incentive?”
“Me?”
“A good start, sure.” He laughed when she nudged him in the side, causing him to lose a little footing.
“What do you think your incentive should be?” He was back at her side, his hand holding hers, the same as when they’d left the shop an hour ago.
“Well, I never did get sex after cookies that you promised me.”
“Hmm. Very true. That could probably be arranged.”
“Before the tattoo?”
“And maybe after.”
“I could always take you home tonight,” he suggested. He didn’t play it off as an innocent offer either. He had plans for her, for them, for getting naked again.
“Your home or my home?” she asked.
“Where would you feel more comfortable?” He was fine with the floor in the office, but he didn’t want anyone walking in on them as there was a fairly good possibility that they were going to oversleep.
“I don’t know,” she mused. “I haven’t had a man in my bed since I’ve been back and I don’t know how many women have been in yours.”
Brax tugged a strand of her hair until she yelped. “That was rude, babe. And for your information, no woman has been in my bed since my last serious girlfriend.”
“When was that?”
“About a year and a half ago. Maybe two.” Damn. Had it really been that long?
“Then where do you go with your dates?”
“Either their place or a hotel. I don’t bring women home.”
“But you’d take me?”
“Yes. You’re not just any woman. You know you’re not just any woman.”
“True. I am quite special and hot and I do have that piercing.”
“Goddamn,” he groaned. “Yes. you do have that piercing.”
Several steps more, then Annie rushed him, pressing him against the nearest wall. They were still a few storefronts away from Love and Tattoos, but it seemed his little artist had something on her mind.
She fit her thigh between his legs and lifted high into his groin with her knee. Her lips kissed the hollow in his throat and Brax hung on for dear life. Her breath was hot against his skin as she spoke. “I do think you should give serious thought to a matching piercing. You know, as discussed earlier.”
“Oh don’t worry. I’m strongly considering it.” Brax grabbed hold of her head and licked a trail across her jaw, until his mouth was at her ear. He whispered intensely, “I want your mouth wrapped around the head, your teeth tugging on a ring. It’s not the first time I’ve thought about a Prince Albert, but it’s the first time I’ve had a woman want it too.”
“Mmm. I like being the first. I think I might even want to be the only. Ever thought about tattoos on your cock?”
“Yes.” Brax looked her in the eye, lust and need and pure adoration warred in the depths and he didn’t doubt for a second that she saw the same things in his. “Don’t you even think about it. You nor Joe nor anyone else is getting anywhere near my dick with a needle like that.”
“Chicken.”
Brax barked out a laugh and pushed away from the wall. “Didn’t we have this conversation about a chicken earlier? But, yes guilty as charged.”
“Well, I have another idea then of how to tattoo it that wouldn’t hurt at all.”
“Oh do you now? Please share.”
“I’d rather show you. We need to get back to the shop first, though.”
“Thought I was taking you home?”
“You are. We haven’t decided which home yet and while I demonstrate another way to tattoo your cock, we can. Decide, that is.”
“I’m not so sure about this. What have you got in mind?”
“You’ll see.”
God, she was fucking frustrating. “Will I still be able to walk?”
“Yes.” Annie tugged his keys out of her pocket where she’d stuffed them earlier and unlocked the Love and Tattoos backdoor when they got to it. “I’ll be two seconds,” she called, racing across the darkened interior.
Brax took a deep breath, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. In roughly six hours, the place would be open for business. He’d have to be in no later than two. That was nine hours. Plenty of time for sex and sleep.
And yet, he was still wide awake, no doubt he was running on pure adrenaline. Annie thrilled him and he didn’t want to give up a minute of time with her. They’d learned a lot about each other during the course of the night. The sex had been hot and he was contemplating a ring in his penis, mainly because his new lover thought it would be hot.
Hell, who was he kidding? It would be hot.
“Pants down,” Annie ordered, returning to his side. She took his hand and led him to the station he used most often for his tattoo clients. It was closest to the office, deepest in the shadows.
He eyed her Cheshire smile warily. “Didn’t we do this earlier tonight?”
“Yes, but this is different.”
“Right.” But he did as she asked. Or, he started to… “Yours off too.”
“I don’t need to get naked for this.”
“Maybe not. But you do need to get naked for me.”
“How about —”
“How about every stitch of clothing off your body,” he interrupted. “Now.”
“Bossy,” she grumbled.
“Yep.” He stared her down and she did the same. Neither gave in nor gave an inch, until…
“Oh fuck it. Fine.” She flipped her shirt off and Brax followed suit.
“As if you’re really put out about it.” His pants dropped next as did her jeans. She reached back to unhook her bra, but he stopped the motion with his hand on her arm. “Leave the bra. And the panties.”
“Why?”
“Because I love them. You’re sexy with them on or off. I like the feel of them.” To demonstrate, he cupped her breasts in both palms, stroking the silk with the pads of his fingers.
“W-well, you need to take your underwear off.”
“Then I’ll have to find some other way to keep touching you,” he murmured, lowering his head to her chest. He sucked the soft fabric of her polka dot bra between his lips, wetting the material. He soon felt the outline of her nipple against his tongue.
Annie moaned and held his head in her hands. He knew if he reached between her legs she’d be wet and ready for him. He awkwardly pushed his boxer briefs down and started to straighten.
“Not yet, please,” she whispered.
“Okay,” he whispered back. “At least let me have the other tit and at least let me s
it instead of bend.” He wrapped his arm around her and shuffled them back until he was balanced on the padded tattoo table. “Better. Now this one, I want naked.” He eased the bra cup down and took hold of her other nipple with his teeth. Annie fairly sagged, melted with need, but Brax held her up. He worked the tight bead of flesh with the tip of his tongue until she whimpered. “More?”
“Yes,” she hissed.
“Good girl.” He found his way to her panties, sliding his hand up her thigh to her hip. The silk teased him and the heat of her sex pulled him in. He tugged at the crotch until it was snuggled tight between her lips, pressing into her naughty little piercing.
He felt for the outline of it, too. He fondled her, stroked her, pulled her panties higher and tighter. She thrust toward him, riding the edges of the silk and elastic, the feel of his hand against her smooth skin.
Lifting his gaze, Brax watched her face and was surprised to find her looking down at him. Their eyes held, lust between them ratcheting upward. He had her. He finally fucking had her. And it wasn’t about the sex — though God, this was damn good sex — it was all about her and him and their passion for their art, their love of tattoos, and the winding road it took for them to realize they could have something special.
“Annie?” he said, the words so soft they were little more than a ghost of a caress. “Come for me, Annie.”
If she heard him or not, he didn’t know. Blood roared in his ears and the near pain in his cock from being harder than a steel rod distracted him for a brief moment. She was there though, nodding.
Brax shifted his hand between her legs and wedged a finger inside her. His thumb he kept pressed to her piercing. She was soaking wet, hot and tight, pulsing and clenching.
She huffed her breath through her lips as she orgasmed. It wasn’t pretty, but it was wonderful. She gave everything in her pleasure, just as she poured everything into her art.
He held her close until the spasms subsided and they were both breathing with some semblance of normalcy again. Her glassy gaze cleared and she leaned in for a kiss. “You good?” he asked.
“Better than. You?”
He grunted. “Hurting like a mother.”
Annie giggled. “I’ll take care of that in a second,” she said, righting her bra and panties. “Now, for your penis tattoo…”
“We don’t have to do that, do we? You can just climb on and ride, babe.”
“Nope. I told you I’d show you and I will.” She sat on a nearby stool and rolled between his knees.
He hissed when she wrapped her fingers around his cock. The tip was leaking, the shaft was throbbing, and his balls were likely an angry shade of blue. “Annie…” he ground out.
“It won’t hurt a bit,” she whispered against the crown, licking tenderly at the clear drops of pre-cum.
“Won’t hurt a bit.” Brax scoffed at the lie. Her blowing breath against him hurt. He wanted inside her. Her mouth. Her cunt. He’d even settle for being between the arches of her feet. The mounds of her breasts. He didn’t goddamn care. He just wanted in some part of her.
He heard a snap and a small pop and looked down. Annie had a tube of… “Lipstick?”
She tilted her head and smiled up at him. “Yes.” She twisted the base and put the it under the lamp. “Pink.”
Brax softened. “What else would it be?” The question wasn’t meant to be answered.
Annie cradled his cock in her hand again, tilted her head in the other direction, pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, and touched the stick of pink to his skin.
In awe, in breathless wonder, Brax watched, still as a statue as she wrote her name, marking him as hers. She followed that with lightly sketched flower petals under the head. “Annie, I…” She shushed him and kept drawing. The column of pink from the tube got smaller and smaller the longer she worked on him. It wasn’t permanent, but it was most definitely a tattoo.
After several long minutes, she rolled back and looked up at him. “Well?” she asked expectantly.
“It’s pink.”
Annie smiled indulgently. “We already established that.”
“You wrote your name.”
“But it washes off.”
“My dick will be stained pink for a little while though.”
“Yes.”
“I love it. You can write your name on me anytime you want. I…” He closed his eyes at the sound that interrupted his words.
“Is that —”
He hung his head. “Yes.”
“Who would be calling you at…” She swiveled around to face the clock on the wall. “It’s not even six in the morning,” she said.
“No shit.” Brax slid sideways and made a beeline for the office. He had a sinking feeling he knew who was on the other end and there was only one reason that person would be calling so early. “Joe,” he said a little breathlessly. “Hey man,” he said into his cell phone.
Brax turned to find Annie standing in the office doorway and where questions had appeared a few seconds ago, laughter now threatened to take over.
“Hey. I didn’t wake you, did I?” Joe asked. “You don’t sound like you were asleep.”
“No, no. I haven’t been to bed yet.” Brax glared at Annie and shook his finger in her direction. “Don’t you dare make a sound,” he mouthed to her.
“You haven’t been to bed yet? Dude, why not?”
“I ah… Wait. You’re on your way home, aren’t you?” Brax knew the answer without Joe having to offer it.
“Yeah, you know how it is. I was bored. You get the next show.”
That had Brax smiling. He could take Annie. She’d have a whole arsenal of material at her disposal at one of the conventions. “Deal.”
“I’m not too far, man. Can’t wait to sleep in my own bed. Fuckin’ hate hotels,” Joe was saying. Brax had stopped listening. Annie was on her knees at his feet, licking at the small places on his cock that weren’t touched with pink.
“H-how far is not too far?” He needed to know how long he and Annie had. Joe would show up at Brax’s place when he got to town.
“’Bout an hour, give or take twenty minutes? Why? Why do you sound funny?”
“I —”
“You with a girl? Damn, B. Why didn’t you tell me? Who is she?”
“Joe, we’ll talk when you get home.” Jesus, he didn’t want to have that talk. He wanted Annie more than he wanted his next breath. Okay, ne wanted to cum more than his next breath, and then he wanted Annie. But, Joe was his best friend…
“She goin’ down on you?”
“Let’s…” Brax grunted when Annie took the head between her lips. “Let’s not talk about who or what she’s doing. Just ah… I’ve got to go.”
“No, no, no. Who are you with?” Joe’s suspicious tone cut through Brax’s lust-filled haze.
“Joe… Please, man. Now’s the not the time.”
“Who the fuck are you with? Are you with…?”
Brax had stepped in it and there was no getting around it. “I gotta go.” He took a deep breath. “Annie says to tell you hi and… Yeah. That’s all.” He disconnected the call and held the power button down until the phone shut off. He tossed the piece of plastic and metal to the other side of the desk. “I should’ve known he’d call.”
“You hung up on him.”
Brax stared at the woman at his feet. “Yes. Suck me, Annie.”
“You threw me under the bus, Brax.”
“Yes. Annie, now. Suck me.” He was going out of his mind. That earlier adrenaline mixed with a whole night of lust rushed through him. He worked to soften his tone. “Please, baby.”
“How long do we have?”
“An hour. Long enough for you to get me off and me to get you home. He’ll have to find me to kick my ass.”
“I can’t believe you’re scared of him. You’re a grown man.”
“And if you were my sister and he was doing you, he’d be scared shitless too. It’s a friend thing. It’s a best-frie
nd-keep-your-hands-off-my-sister thing.”
She appeared to be thinking about it, her bottom lip tucked in between her teeth. They didn’t have time for her to think about anything. They had time to do. Had had to admit though that being under the gun, knowing Joe was now likely breaking all speed limit laws to get home, was a huge rush.
“I understand.” She nodded, as though coming to a decision. “I guess we better get busy then.”
Brax sighed in relief. “Yep.”
“Although…”
They really didn’t have time for although. “Although what?”
“Remember earlier, when we were laying on that make shift pallet on the floor?” she asked, depositing teasing kisses to his lower abs and trailing them to his hips. Her fingertips lingered over the waves on his ribs, traced the lines of the whale…
“Uh huh. What about it?”
“You were playing with me. Your hands massaging me, your fingers inside me.”
Oh, he remembered that all right. “Mmm. So soft and sexy and hot.”
“You made me keep talking while you did that, even though I couldn’t seem to keep two thoughts in my head.”
Brax looked down at her. Shit. She was going to torture him. She was going to pay him back. Shit. Shit. Shit. And he was in love with her. “I did do that.”
“So,” she started, her hand sliding under his balls, and her lips a scant inch from the tip of his cock, “Why classical music?”
About Lissa
Born and raised in the South and currently living in North Carolina, talented, multi-published author, Lissa Matthews, has many loves in her life: Family, friends, NASCAR, football, music of all kinds, cooking, BDSM, penning stories filled with feisty heroines and naughty heros, and last, but certainly not least, coffee.
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Coming Soon
A Decadent New Series
Lone Star Sweets
Book One, The Cupcake Cowboy
Pastry Chef Cassandra Jamieson checked her watch again. Ten more minutes had passed. Really? She sighed and fanned herself with her hand because she didn’t have anything else with her. It didn’t do her any good. She’d had no idea the line for his cupcakes would be so long in front of her, or, she turned to look, behind her. And who knew it would take to so long to order a cupcake? It was a little piece of cake and dollop of frosting. It wasn’t rocket science and it wasn’t something one’s life depended upon if they didn’t get one.
Love and Tattoos Page 8