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Innocent Ink (Inked in the Steel City)

Page 4

by Ranae Rose


  Karen leaned back in her chair, adjusting the hydraulic lever beneath the seat. Holy crap, she needed a new desk chair. Why hadn’t she bought one yet? That should’ve been priority number one when she’d started making enough money to do more than just barely pay her bills each month. It was a pain to edit photos – or watch TV online while her printer churned out 5x7s – in the worn out piece of junk-on-wheels.

  “Holy crap!” Voices crackled through her cheap computer speakers – another office essential that could use replacing. “Did you hear that, man?”

  Crappy speakers or no, the EVP recording echoed through Karen’s workspace. Ugh, it really did sound like a growl, and they kept replaying it…

  Karen glanced toward the window. It wasn’t even dark yet, which meant that listening to the static-laced recording alone in her studio shouldn’t scare her, not even a little bit.

  Still, she jumped and nearly upended her aged desk chair when a knock sounded at the door. Spinning as quickly as her wobbling seat would allow, she turned her back on her computer screen.

  Her legs shook as she hurried toward the door. Who could be on the other side? She didn’t have any clients scheduled – she’d left the entire day open in order to celebrate her birthday with her grandmother and then get caught up on some odd tasks.

  “Karen?” The voice that called from the other side of the door stopped her in her tracks just as her fingertips were about to brush the doorknob.

  Memories of the night before rushed back to her, sweet and vivid and a little terrifying when she really thought about them. On the verge of facing Jed for the first time since the kiss, she stood frozen like an idiot with her heart pounding away in her throat. What was about to happen? She let herself wonder for approximately two seconds before she had to stop herself regretting that she hadn’t worn sexier underwear.

  At least her bra and panties matched – she was reasonably sure of that, although it was kind of hard to remember getting dressed that morning when her thoughts kept zooming back to the memory of Jed’s short beard scraping her jaw, his tongue wrapped around hers…

  “I’m here.” She called out the first thing that came to mind and unlocked the door, opening it to reveal the man she’d barely been able to stop thinking about for the past twenty-four hours.

  He looked just like she remembered – sexy as sin – and her already elevated heartbeat sped ahead at the sight. Instead of a button-up with rolled-up sleeves, he wore a black t-shirt. It clung to his muscular torso and revealed the goldmine of well-done ink that covered his arms. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” He stood in the doorway for a moment, silent with his thumbs tucked into his pockets.

  She let herself admire him for a few seconds as a cloud of butterflies came to life somewhere between her hips and her heart.

  “Can I come in?”

  “Sure.” She stepped back, unable to resist thinking of his last text. Sorry about last night? What the hell did that mean? Was he sorry he’d kissed her? Sorry he hadn’t done more? Wondering had driven her to tune-out in front of her computer screen, courtesy of her favorite ghost hunting show.

  He breathed a barely-audible sigh as he strode into the room, looking like he was on the verge of saying something important. Instead, he paused in front of her computer. “You watching this?”

  The barest hint of heat crept into her cheeks as she glanced toward the screen, where one of the paranormal investigators was daring a spirit to approach some sort of EMF reader. “I was.”

  “I had no idea you liked this stuff.” Jed’s mouth curled in the tiniest of smiles.

  “Let me guess – you think it’s ridiculous?” Jed wasn’t exactly the kind of guy she’d peg as a fan of ghost hunting shows.

  He shrugged, his broad shoulders straining his t-shirt in a way so sexy it made her head spin. “I’m just surprised is all. I’ve never watched more than a few minutes here and there.”

  “It’s a little sensationalistic at times, but the locations they visit are really cool – seeing the historic old places they explore is my favorite thing about the show and—” For once, she stopped herself mid-babble. Forget ghost hunting TV! Who gave a crap about whether the abandoned prison was haunted when there was last night’s kiss to discuss, and maybe even relive?

  She reached for the mouse and shut off the show. “I won’t inflict my reality TV upon you.”

  “Reality?” Jed arched a dark brow.

  Her cheeks warmed a little more. “They say it’s reality. And I figure it’s probably not all staged.”

  “Mmm.” Jed was definitely smiling now. “There’s no telling, is there?”

  “I guess not.” Karen turned to her printer and lifted a fresh print from the tray. She wasn’t going to argue about the existence of ghosts. Not now, and not with Jed.

  The silence that filled the studio was absolute, unrelieved by even a questionable EVP clip now that she’d turned the show off.

  “About last night,” Jed eventually said, his deep voice banishing the quiet, “I’m sorry. I came here to apologize.”

  Karen set the print down on her desk, next to the mouse pad, as her pulse fluttered in her fingertips. “Sorry for what?”

  * * * * *

  She stood there, green eyes wide and hands loose at her sides, her slender fingers brushing the corner of her desk. How could she look so oblivious, like she had no idea what he was talking about?

  “For taking advantage of you.” He resisted the urge to wince as the words came out. “I shouldn’t have kissed you like that – not after you’d been drinking.” It had felt right at the time, but that was just evidence of what a fucking creep he was, wasn’t it? Offering to give her a ride home after she’d been drinking, and then shoving his tongue down her throat before he let her go…

  Karen laughed, and the sound sent slivers of disbelief slicing through him. How could she laugh about it? Had he betrayed her trust so badly that she thought she had to make a show of not caring?

  “Jed, you didn’t take advantage of me. How could you think that?”

  “You’d been drinking,” he repeated. “I should’ve just taken you home, and let that be that.”

  She crossed her arms, and he couldn’t help but notice how the motion pushed up her breasts. Visions of her in her low-cut dress from the night before swarmed his memory and amped-up his guilt. She’d looked amazing… She still did, in the new sweater Mina had given her for her birthday.

  “Well, I’m glad you didn’t,” she said. “I mean yeah, I drank, but not too much. I was barely buzzed, and well – I don’t know if I would’ve been able to work up the courage without a little help.”

  “The courage?”

  “To – you know. When I leaned forward and…” Her face was suddenly, totally pink. “I thought we were going to kiss so I sort of leaned toward you. When you pulled away, I was horrified. But then…” She shot him a shy grin. “I realized I’d been right.”

  “You’d been thinking about us kissing?” The notion sent a pang of sharp-edged desire through him, but he knew he shouldn’t savor it … alcohol had a way of making people think things they shouldn’t.

  “For ages.” She crossed her arms a little more tightly, almost as if she were hugging herself. “Ever since I first met you. I just didn’t know how… I mean, I was nervous. It was hard for me to tell if you felt the same way.”

  Looking at her standing that way, with her arms tight around her own body while her eyes searched his, he wanted to pick her up and wrap his own arms around her and hold her so tightly that he’d be able to feel her heart beat, her breasts compressed against his chest… “Are you serious? Karen, I didn’t realize…”

  Ever since she’d met him? Holy shit… That’d been months ago. And yeah, he’d felt an instant attraction too, but the idea that she’d been waiting all that time, wanting something to happen... It was unbelievable. And it made him feel like a dick.

  All the excuses he’d found to see her, the way he’d s
ometimes prolonged their little meetings in the back of the tattoo studio even though she’d answered all his questions and provided better images than he ever could’ve hoped for… “I feel like I’ve been leading you on. I’m sorry.”

  She tightened her self-embrace so much that it was a wonder she could even breathe. “Oh. I see… You don’t feel the same way.” Her face transitioned from pink to red before his eyes, and her expression vacillated from hurt to angry.

  Damn it, she looked at him like he’d hit her or something.

  “It’s not that I’m not attracted to you,” he said as his mistake dawned on him. “I am, but it’s not like we could be together.”

  She raised her gaze again, her eyes searching his. “Why not? Are you seeing someone else?”

  “No.” His voice came out a little too deep, a little too scraping.

  “Then what are you talking about?” Her face was still red, but she looked more bewildered than hurt now.

  He raised his hands in a useless gesture. “Look at yourself, Karen. You’re young, beautiful and successful – on your way to much bigger things than photographing tattoos for my studio, I’m sure. And I’m just myself. I tattoo – that’s it; Hot Ink is my life. I don’t have anything to offer someone like you.”

  Karen finally dropped her arms to her sides, where her hands formed loose fists. “Are you serious? You don’t think you’re good enough for me?” She looked at him like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

  “I know I’m not.”

  “Jed… You’re not just saying that because there’s some other reason that would hurt my feelings, are you?”

  “No.”

  For a few moments, she just stood there, hands balled and eyes wide. Then she looked around the studio as if searching for something. “Okay, here’s the glitz and glamour I’m apparently exuding – see this?” She bent down and picked up something between her finger and thumb.

  Or at least, she went through the motions – he couldn’t see anything.

  “Dog hair,” she said. “It’s been a freaking week, I’ve vacuumed twice and I’m still finding it everywhere.” She gestured toward her khaki-colored pants. “I’ve stopped wearing dark colors because the hair shows up so well against them.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

  “Last week I did a shoot for a pet grooming company. Apparently they thought the world’s most spastic greyhound would be the perfect model of a well-groomed dog. The shoot was a nightmare – I still have scratch-marks on my arms from that dog, and he peed on the carpet!” She thrust an accusatory finger toward one corner of the room. “Who do you think had to clean it up?”

  She shook her head, her mouth set in a firm line. “Anyway, I’m just glad he didn’t knock over any of my lights or break anything. In the end, I got a few ad-worthy images, but I worked for them, Jed. I scrubbed pee-soaked carpet for them. How’s that for bigger and better things?”

  “Maybe you should hire an assistant,” he suggested. “Someone to help keep a handle on your canine clients and clean up accidents if needed?”

  “Don’t think I haven’t considered it,” she said, eyes flashing, “and don’t try to change the subject. You’re not too good for me Jed – the idea is ridiculous. So…” Her nerve seemed to falter, and she let her gaze drop. “So don’t be sorry about the kiss. I’m not.”

  A part of him wasn’t sorry, and that part was rapidly fighting its way to the top. “You’d been drinking and—”

  Karen stepped into his personal space as he repeated his earlier argument, struggling to keep a handle on his self-restraint.

  A determined look flashed in her eyes as she advanced on him, and he only had a second to wonder what the hell she was doing before reality crashed down on him in the form of her mouth against his.

  He hadn’t bent, hadn’t bowed his head to facilitate what was happening, but she was tall enough that she only had to rock up onto the balls of her feet to reach his mouth. And holy hell, she was a more aggressive kisser than he remembered – there was an edge of fierceness to her kiss, a demand made clear in the way her lips worked against his, surprisingly firm, and then soft…

  Her aggressiveness faded as he caved, giving in to the heat and pressure of her mouth, of her body against his. The passion was still there, but they were equals as he wrapped his arms around her, just like he’d imagined. Thoughts of resistance were as far away as the moon as her breasts swelled against his chest, and he could feel the soft flesh conforming to his body. Was he just imagining it, or could he feel her nipples beneath the light sweater she wore?

  Imaginary or not, the sensation had him hard as a rock.

  “There,” she said when she pulled away a full minute later. “I haven’t been drinking. Well, okay, I drank at a winery this morning, but that was hours ago.”

  She was still right up against him, which left the hard rod of his erection stiff against her belly. Her gaze dipped in that direction momentarily, then she met his eyes. “So where does this leave us?” Her lips were swollen from contact with his, and they quirked in a knowing smile – like she knew he couldn’t feign resistance.

  “I don’t know, but I like where we are right now.” He rocked his hips just a little, barely able to suppress a moan when his dick slid against her belly. So many layers of clothing between them, and still, the distant friction threatened to kill him with desire. It had been so long, and Karen was like a dream come to life, with her insane curves, swollen lips and pin-up girl red hair…

  But she was more than that, too. She was someone he cared about, someone who did not deserve to be dragged down onto a floor that had apparently been violated by the canine star of a recent photo shoot. He pulled away, ignoring the part of him that ached when he lost contact with her body. “If you really want to do this,” he said, meeting her eyes, “we should do this right. Can I take you to dinner?”

  Her eyes lit up in a way he’d never seen them do before. “Yes.”

  The part of him that knew he wasn’t who she deserved had drowned in her allure, in the reason-crushing hotness of her kiss. And as she slipped one hand into his and grabbed her purse with the other, he couldn’t deny that this was exactly what he wanted.

  * * * * *

  “Can I interest either of you in one of our new after-dinner drinks?” The waiter gestured toward a small fold-out menu propped on the table. “The sweet blackberry wine is—”

  “No thanks,” Jed said without glancing at the menu. “Just coffee. And maybe some dessert?” He glanced in Karen’s direction.

  Karen’s heart skipped a beat, as it always did when they made eye contact. “Sure.” Would it always do that, or would she become used to his company, to his attention? Maybe if she really got to know him, her nerves would settle down. Thoughts of exactly how she might go about doing that invaded her mind, vivid and persistent.

  As it turned out, neither of them was picky. They settled quickly on the cheesecake.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I said no to drinks. Whatever happens – I want it to be because you want it, and I don’t want to have doubts afterward.”

  A wave of disbelief crashed down on her. Did he really worry that if she had a glass of wine, she’d have some epic lapse in judgment and end up in some intimate situation she hadn’t really desired? If only he could read her mind… “It’s fine,” she said simply, aware that they were surrounded by dozens of other people. “I’d rather have cheesecake than drinks anyway.”

  It was no lie – cheesecake was dessert gold, as far as she was concerned.

  He smiled a little at that. “Me too.”

  She grinned back. “See? We really are compatible. I don’t know what you were worried about.”

  The platter the waiter returned with held the single biggest piece of cheesecake Karen had ever seen. Even shared between a couple, the portions were generous. At first she wondered whether they’d finish it, but her doubts evaporated as soon as the first bite touched her t
ongue.

  The cheesecake was rich and silky, so dense that just one bite felt heavy on the end of her fork. And the sweet-tart strawberry sauce that had been spread across the surface… “Oh my God, this cheesecake is amazing.”

  “It’s pretty damn good,” Jed agreed a moment later, and they slipped into a comfortable silence.

  After Jed paid the check and they left the restaurant, the sense of decadent pleasure inspired by dessert remained. When he pressed a hand gently to the small of her back, the feeling gained an edge of blistering anticipation.

  Was all this really happening? After months of fantasizing, tiptoeing around and generally hoping to hell that something more than conversation would unfold between them…

  “Where to?” he asked when they slipped into his car.

  Karen looked him in the eye and gave him her best attempt at a seductive smile. It felt more awkward than siren-like, and her cheeks heated, but she held his gaze. “I’m open to suggestions. And I’m not ready to go home.”

  The moment of silence that followed was so heavy she could feel it weighing down on her shoulders, her breasts – her entire body. The pressure was teasing and inspired thoughts of what the weight of Jed’s body might feel like against hers.

  Was she being brazen? Maybe. But being with Jed – going out with him – didn’t feel sudden. She’d been waiting for so long; she’d been admiring him for months. She wanted him, bad – more than she could remember ever wanting anyone else. With any luck, by the time the night was over, he’d realize that, and they could put his absurd doubts behind them.

  “We could head back to my place,” he said, turning the key in the ignition. “Or we could see a movie.”

  “I like your first suggestion.” Butterflies took flight inside her belly as she spoke, and she sat a little straighter in her seat, practically on the edge of it as she imagined where they were headed.

  “I have an apartment above Hot Ink. It’s nothing special. You sure you want to head there?” He looked away from the road as he rolled to a stop at the edge of the parking lot.

 

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