Page 94 of Sugar & Ink
“Also, what?”
“I think I also just love where I am in my life. I love Scoop & Swirl. I love being my own boss. I love…” her words trailed off.
I tightened my arms. “You love what?”
She turned in my arms and looked up at me. “I would love it if we could just stay like this.”
I kissed her temple. “Like this?”
She looked around. “Yeah. Just you and me. No customers, Bruce’s, and definitely no Brandi’s”
I hummed. “That does sound pretty damn good to me.”
She nodded. “The world just needs to go away.”
I turned her around and looked down at her. “Fuck the world.” Josie blinked, and I brushed my thumb across her cheek. “I want you.” Her breath caught. “And no one’s gonna convince me otherwise.”
I kissed her forehead. “Not Brandi.” Another kiss. “Not your ex.” I tipped her chin up. “Not even you.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Stop being so nice to me, Rome. You’re doing it again, where you look like an ass, but you’re really just a marshmallow.”
“Get fucking used to it, babe.”
“Jesus, Rome,” she laughed and pressed her head to my shoulder. “I really like you.”
I hooked my finger under her chin and tipped her head back. “Right back at you.”
Her eyes went soft, and I couldn’t wait anymore. I brought my mouth down on hers, slow at first, just tasting her. She made a small sound against my lips and opened for me, her tongue meeting mine with equal hunger.
I walked her backward until she hit the edge of the tattoo chair. My hands slid under her shirt, finding warm skin. She arched into my touch, and her own fingers worked at the buttons of my jeans, impatient and clumsy.
“Off,” she breathed between kisses. “All of it.”
We tore at each other’s clothes. Her shirt and pants hit the floor, her bra followed, and my jeans kicked aside. She stood before me in nothing but moonlight from the window, wearing only curves I wanted to worship.
I sat back in the tattoo chair, the leather cool against my bare ass, and held out my hand. “Come here.”
She climbed onto me, her thighs bracketing my hips, her heat hovering just above where I needed her most. I gripped her waist, my thumbs pressing into the softness of her, and she lowered herself slowly, taking me inch by inch. “Fuck,” I groaned, my head falling back against the headrest.
“Yeah,” she whimpered, her nails digging into my shoulders as she sank fully onto me. She was tight, wet, and perfect.
She started to move, rolling her hips in a rhythm that made my vision blur. I watched her above me, tits bouncing, head thrown back. From the swell of her belly, and the jiggle of her thighs, every gorgeous inch of her was taking what she needed from me.
“Rome,” she moaned, grinding down harder. “You feel so good.”
I thrust up to meet her, my hands gripping her ass, guiding her pace. The chair creaked beneath us as we fucked, her cries filling the empty shop.
“Touch yourself,” I commanded, my voice wrecked.
She did, her fingers circling her clit, and I felt her start to flutter around me, her movements getting frantic and desperate.
“Come on,” I urged, my own release building, burning at the base of my spine. “Let go, beautiful. I’ve got you.”
She shattered, crying out my name, her body clamping down on me so hard I saw stars. I followed her over, thrusting deep and spilling inside her with a groan that sounded like her name.
We stayed there, panting, as she collapsed against my chest, and my arms wrapped around her. I pressed a kiss to her sweaty temple and laughed, breathless. “These chairs are good for more than tattooing.”
She giggled, breathless and satisfied, and I held her tighter, already wanting to do it again.
