Something New (Exile Ink Book 1)

by Skylar Hill

  “The glove was on the floor,” he said, like she’d committed the worst crime ever.

  “Sorry,” she said, wiping up more of the ink he had spilled, trying to control the anger rising in her chest. “I must’ve missed the trash.”

  “Next time, aim better,” he said slowly, like she was dumb.

  Cam gritted her teeth, thinking about the monumental hospital bill that was going to be showing up in her mail as soon as the insurance figured out how to weasel their way out of paying as much as possible. She couldn’t explode.

  But oh, how she wanted to. James was right—she was better than this. She was a lot better than this!

  Evie’s tuition, a voice whispered inside her. The hospital bill. Your apartment. Come on, Cam. Be smart.

  “Sorry,” she said again, finishing cleaning up the ink and getting to her feet.

  “I don’t even know why I keep you around,” Scott said disgustedly.

  His client, who had just come back from the bathroom, caught this, and his eyes widened in sympathy as Cam tried to keep her face from showing her hurt.

  “It’s nearly five,” Cam said when she was sure her voice would be steady. “Is there anything else you need me to do before I’m off?”

  “Maybe make sure the trash is, you know, in the trash can,” Scott sneered as the bell on the door rang. Cam turned to greet the customer, and when she saw it was James, something like relief and happiness and sunshine all wrapped into one filled her.

  “Hi,” she said.

  He smiled. She loved the crinkles around his eyes—they had stories to tell, funny and sad. She wanted to learn all his stories.

  “Jess and Evie are hanging out. They said I should take you out to dinner.”

  “Oh, is that what they said?” she asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

  “They were very insistent. I have it on good authority that your sister is a certified genius so we should probably do what she says.”

  It was like her bad day just melted away the longer he talked, the more he teased.

  “James, my man, what are you doing here?’

  And just like that, her bad day was back. Cam bit her lip as Scott brushed past her to greet James.

  “Hi,” James said, all warmth fleeing from his face in a split second. “I’m just here to pick up Cam. Her sister just had surgery, you know.”

  Cam glared at him, trying to communicate with only her eyes that he shouldn’t go down this road. The last thing she needed was him trying to defend her honor or something to Scott. It was a romantic, fairy-tale thought, but she needed this job.

  “Yeah, I heard,” Scott said, clearly not reading the room because his head was stuck so far up his own ass. “You know how women are. Always overreacting.”

  “No, actually, I don’t,” James said, suddenly, intimidatingly serious. “I’m not really into generalizing 51% of the population just because they happen to be women.”

  Cam had to press her lips together tight to keep from laughing. She’d never seen a man call out another guy for their sexist nonsense before. Leave it to James to make Scott squirm. A woman could never get him embarrassed like this, because he didn’t respect them. She watched in delight as red crawled up Scott’s neck, turning him an blotchy, unattractive red.

  “Cool, man, cool,” he finally stuttered.

  James didn’t even look at him, he just gazed over his shoulder at Cam; a clear brush-off.

  “You need to get your bag or anything?” James asked.

  “I’ve got it right here,” Cam said, grabbing it from where she stashed it under the cash register. “Bye, Scott.”

  She didn’t dare look at him as they hurried out of the shop. If she did, she was pretty sure she was going to burst out laughing. When they’d made it far enough down the sidewalk, she did start to giggle.

  “Did you see his face?” she gasped.

  James grinned. “You liked that, huh?” He looped an arm around her waist, pulling her to him. Her heart thumped as he drew the sides of his jacket around her, pressing her close up against him. His scent—so tempting, so safe—curled around her. He was all hard muscle and warm plaid, and she just wanted to rest her head against his chest forever. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear, sending sparks right down to the core of her. “Remind me to tell you about the women’s studies class I audited.”

  Her delighted laughter rang out, and he laughed too, his fingers flexing on her waist, sending more sparks dancing inside her. “I wasn’t kidding about dinner, though,” he said. “Check your phone.”

  She dug it out of her purse, and sure enough, there was a text from Evie:

  Go have fun! I’m fine. Jess & I are ordering pizza & she won’t let me light any candles.

  There was also a selfie the girls snapped, making ridiculous faces at the camera, a bowl of popcorn between them.

  They reached James’s Tesla, and he opened the door for her.

  “She’s a fantastic young woman,” he told her as he pulled away from the curb. “You raised her well.”

  “Thanks. She’s always been amazing. I tried my best,” Cam said. “But sometimes I felt like she was running the show.”

  He smirked. “I can see her trying to take over.”

  “She didn’t annoy you too much today?” Cam asked. “She can be a little much.”

  “She was a riot,” he reassured her. “We talked about drought conditions and the windmill she made when she was ten.”

  “Oh gosh, that thing was huge,” Cam said, remembering. “She was so bad at using a hammer. She kept hitting her thumb.”

  “She mentioned that,” James said.

  “It really was so nice of you to watch her,” she said. She still couldn’t quite believe he’d done it. That he’d even offered.

  He was different than any other man she’d ever been with. There was something incredibly trustworthy about him, like he’d catch her, no matter how many times she fell. Like no matter how many mistakes she made, he’d be there.

  “Cam, you gotta stop doing that,” he said gently.

  “Doing what?” she asked, startled.

  He reached over with his free hand, keeping the other on the steering wheel and his eyes on the road. His palm settled on her thigh, just resting there, like he wanted to comfort her. “Falling all over yourself with gratitude when I do something decent. I’m thinking you’re not used to it, but honey, it’s time to start. Because I don’t want to stop.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said automatically, then winced. He was right. She was so completely not used to this.

  She’d been the anchor for so long, she’d forgotten how to let someone else take any of the burden. It was scary to even think about letting go of that control.

  “Life hasn’t been easy, has it?” he asked.

  Normally, she’d hate this assumption. She wasn’t some wounded bird that needed her broken wings mended. She’d picked herself up off the ground and healed herself, because she had had no other choice. She’d needed to be strong for Evie, and she had been. She still was.

  That’s what being a big sister was.

  But she knew James wasn’t looking to fix her. Because he looked at her like she was already fixed.

  Sometimes she felt wholly healed. And then other times…

  Her childhood had shaped her. She couldn’t deny that. Running from it was no use, though she’d tried to get her and Evie as far away from it as she could.

  “We made do,” she said, always her mother’s brave little soldier. He turned onto a road she didn’t recognize. “Where are we going, anyway?”

  “I want to show you something,” he said as he pulled up in front of a large brick building.

  Her curiosity piqued, Cam got out of the car and followed him through the giant metal doors. The building was dark until he went over to a far wall and hit the lights.

  Cam took in a little breath as the room was revealed. The building had been a warehouse—that much was clear—built at
a time where things were still constructed with care. The graceful lines of the frosted-glass lined offices on the second level told her this place had probably been built in the twenties.

  “Come look,” James said, taking her hand and pulling her deeper into the building, through a wide doorway, onto the gutted factory floor, where a faded metal sign hung on the wall, some of its letters worn so now it formed the word EX ILE.

  For a moment, she just took it all in, excitement bubbling in her stomach. She looked up at him, and he was beaming right back at her. She felt transported in that moment, his hand in hers, standing in the middle of the factory floor, the possibility swirling around her like fairy dust. She knew without asking what this place was.

  “You’re opening a tattoo studio,” she said.

  His smile grew wider, delighted that she’d figured it out. “I’m opening a tattoo studio,” he confirmed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  James

  He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so beautiful and full of promise than Cam, standing in the middle of the building that was going to house all his dreams, smiling at him like she was the sun breaking through on a cloudy day.

  “This is so great!” she said, spinning in a slow circle, her head tilting up as she took in the arching brick walls and high ceilings. Her focus was on the building, but his was all on her. “You have room for at least eight stations.”

  “I’m thinking more like four to start,” he said. “With two private rooms.”

  “Upstairs?” she asked, pointing to the frosted office windows.

  He nodded, marveling at how she saw it so clearly, just like he did. Satisfaction coiled inside him, a deep kind of content that he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt.

  “There’s gonna be so much light even with the weather!” She finally turned back to him, her eyes meeting his. Every time their gazes locked, it was like seeing her for the first time, that low-grade shock in his stomach, spreading through his veins in frissons of heat. There must’ve been something in her face, because those blue eyes of hers went wide and she bit her lip in that way she did when she felt self-conscious.

  He was already learning her, but he wanted to know all of her. It was quickly becoming clear that nothing short of a lifetime spent learning all her little quirks would do.

  “You look at me sometimes,” she said. “And you just…” she trailed off. “It’s not very fair, you know.” She finished.

  “Look at you how?” he asked.

  Her lips quirked disapprovingly and it shouldn’t have revved him up the way it did.

  “You know how,” she said.

  “I really don’t,” he said, coming forward with a grin.

  He wanted to rile her so that she got that cute, disapproving librarian look on her face. And then he wanted to push her against a wall and drop to his knees. He wanted to hike that lace skirt high up her thighs, baring that tattoo no one else got to see, trace the design with his mouth until she was moaning for it.

  It was a possessive, consuming thought.

  He crossed the room, so he was just inches from her. He reached out, his hand spanning the gentle curve of her waist. He could feel the warmth from her skin radiating off her as his hand moved from her waist to the small of her back.

  “Tell me,” he said quietly, his fingers splaying out against the thin fabric of her shirt, brushing against the waist of her skirt, dipping lower.

  For a moment she looked away, almost as if she had to gather herself.

  “You look at me like you’re lucky to have me with you,” she said incredulously.

  “I am lucky to have you here,” he said, applying just the barest amount of pressure against her back, so she moved closer to him, their hips brushing.

  “I’m not that special,” she whispered.

  His head dipped down, his hand moving at the same time, cupping the swell of her ass. “I disagree,” he told her, the words brushing against her lips before his came down to press urgently against hers.

  As their mouths connected, she made a noise in the back of her throat that went straight to his cock. All his careful plans for a long, languid seduction went out the window the second she pressed herself against him and he automatically took her weight as she hitched herself up, wrapping her legs around his waist.

  Christ, she was perfect. She was everywhere, her legs tight around his hips, her lips on his. He walked forward, gripping her pear-shaped ass with more than a little enthusiasm, until he had pressed her gently against one of the large columns.

  Her fingers scrambled with his belt buckle. A few seconds later, his jeans and boxer-briefs pooled at his feet and her hand was wrapping around his cock.

  He sucked in a breath, unable to stop himself from rolling his hips, thrusting his cock into her palm and the loose circle of her fingers. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, the smell of her perfume overwhelming his senses as she jacked his cock, slowly and deliberately, driving him literally up the wall.

  "I want to fuck you so bad." It took a second for him to realize that the voice was his, that the scrape of sound was as rough as his beard would be against her inner thighs. He kissed her, his tongue sliding across her lower lip, stroking into her mouth. She arched into him, the plush roundness of her breasts pressing against his chest as her hand tightened around him.

  "You're playing with fire, honey," he warned, and instead of stopping, a wicked little smile spread across her lips as she circled her fingers slowly and deliberately around the sensitive flared head of his cock. She let out a surprised, laughing little yelp as he growled playfully, hauling her higher up on the column as he reached for a condom in his wallet, discarded on the floor. The condom dealt with, his hand shoved under her skirt and hooking on her panties.

  "Such a minx," he said. With a sharp tug, he ripped the lace covering her right off. Her mouth dropped open in an outraged O but before she could yell at him, he kissed her again as he lined his cock up against her entrance. She was so wet, so ready for him. He rutted forward a little, sliding along the wet folds of her pussy, unable to stop himself. What surprised him was when she let out a full out moan when the head of his cock pressed against her clit. Her head tilted back, thunking against the column he'd pressed her against as he grabbed his cock, dragging the head in circles against her clit.

  "Oh, my God."

  His thoughts exactly. He was half worried the second he was fully in her, he'd come. She was that wet, that hot, that fucking incandescent.

  "You want me inside you?" he asked her, teasing her folds with his cock. She squirmed in his arms, pressing down against him, like she was trying to get him inside. She nodded desperately. A flush rose in her cheeks as he finally ended her torment, sinking into her with a powerful thrust that had her arching against him. He started out gentle, letting her get used to the width of him, before bottoming out, the angle against the wall letting her take him deeper than ever. He cupped the back of her head so she wouldn't hurt it, the gesture keeping them close together, their foreheads pressed as he drove into her, eliciting little gasps with each thrust.

  "Do you like this?" he murmured, his mouth trailing up her neck. She shivered, her nipples were so hard he could see them through her blouse. "Tell me what you want, Cam."

  She licked her lips, her pussy gripping him like she never wanted him to leave.

  He thrust forward, her mouth dropped open, her eyes fluttering shut. "You can tell me," he continued. "Do you want it fast?" A few quick strokes, his hands tilting her hips even farther up, causing her to let out a sound that could only be described as a whine. He let her hips down, slowing his strokes, because he knew how to take a hint. "No, you want it slow, don't you, honey?"

  Her pussy clenched down on his cock, almost like she was having a mini-orgasm.

  Oh yeah. She wanted it slow.

  "You like it like this, don't you?" he asked, his eyes on her, working his cock into her as slow as possible, using every bit of control he had t
o make it good for her. Her pupils were blown wide, those beautiful blue eyes shining bright. She was so open like this, her soul laid bare, her desires for him to fulfill.

  "Yes," she sighed, her head resting into the cup of his palm as she writhed on his cock like it was where she belonged.

  "You like it nice and slow, so you can feel every inch of me sliding into you," he whispered against her ear, feeling her begin to tense up, building toward orgasm. She loved the dirty talk, he could tell. With every sentence, she got wetter around him. "You just want me to fuck into you over and over, nailing that perfect G-spot of yours until you come all over my cock."

  She bit her lip, her hips pressing down into his, her arms looping around his neck. She was getting close. God, he hadn't even touched her clit. She was going to come without him touching her anywhere else, just from his cock.

  The thought was hot as hell.

  "You gonna come for me?" he asked, latching onto the lobe of her ear with his teeth, making her thighs quake around him as he thrust agonizingly slow into her tight pussy. He could die right now, and he'd die a happy man. She was flushed pink all over, her hips jerking hard into his as she climbed toward that peak, her eyes shut, her lips red and bitten as he gave her every inch of his shaft, grinding his pelvis deep into hers.

  Her eyes flew open, meeting his as her orgasm crested over her, and he thrust once, twice, taken aback, overcome by the beauty of her, and then he was coming, hard and unexpected, torn from him.

  "Holy fuck!" he swore, leaning forward to grip her securely as the aftershocks coursed through him. He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, her back pressed up against the column, their hips tight against each other.

  She'd gone all loose and languid, every muscle in her body relaxed in the aftermath.

  "Cam, you've gotta work with me, honey."

  "Hmmm?" she said.

  Normally he would find it hot how hard she came—and how cute and kind of useless she was right after an orgasm. But right now they were both half-naked, and his legs felt anything but steady after she made him come harder than he'd remember coming since…