Page 74 of Pink Ink

“Anything else?” I don’t add it was already in my plans to do just that.

She narrows her eyes at my painting while I stare at her. “A candle.” She chews the inside of her cheek. “It could be a single candle about to run out, to symbolize her limited time.”

A gasp escapes her when I step forward just as she’s turning so our chests brush against each other. Even through the layers of clothes, she feels like a dream. Soft. Supple. Like silk.

I want to give it all up to touch her. Push every boundary, break every rule. As long as I get to hold her.Tasteher. I wouldn’t need anything else in the world if I could lean forward and kiss her right now. I don’t deserve her, but fuck, I’d kill anyone who tried to keep me from her.

“I’d like to bring you somewhere.”

Her brows hike up her forehead. “Where?”

“Do you trust me?”

I hold my breath, waiting for her to answer. She should say no. It’s the line in the sand that will keep me at bay from sinking my teeth into her. I’d never do anything to hurt her, but saying yes might result in the end of her. And me.

“I trust you.” She hesitates.

My lips twist into a devilish smirk.

Well, she’s done it now.

I told her she shouldn’t let herself be left alone with me. This was my attempt at saving her from my clutches.

And it’ll be the last time I do it.

REYNA

Neither of us has uttered a word to each other since we entered the taxi.

I keep thinking someone is going to jump out of nowhere and start screaming that we’re up to no good. It’s not uncommon for students to spend time with their professors. I’ve had coffee and lunch with my teachers and tutors. They were always related to my classes, however.

This time feels different. What’s going on between us isn’t innocent. I should’ve refused.

Do I trust him not to put me in harm’s way? Yes.

Do I trust him with my life? Eh, I’m leaning toward yes as well.

Do I trust him not to get me into trouble? He’s an artist and a bad boy in a suit. Whoever made up the rule that you should never color outside the lines is full of shit, and he knows it.

I’m more nervous about getting caught with him than about wherever it is he’s taking me. But it’s kind of…thrilling.

It’s the same giddy feeling I get before going to a crime scene. It feels like I’m leaping through clouds with electricity in my veins. It’s exciting and frightening all at once.

I keep stealing glances at him as we inch through traffic. Maddox has grown out his stubble, somehow elevating his bad-boy edge.

The driver is humming along to the song on the radio, blissfully unaware of my inner turmoil, and the rising tension—sexualtension. Every so often I catch Maddox staring at my thighs, and I get the distinct feeling all he wants to do is grab them to bury himself in me—I’m probably making the last part up.

Here I was thinking I couldn’t get any more wound up from the memory of last week, but with a single look—or manylooksin this case—my underwear is ruined, and I’m left squirming. Thank God I’m wearing an actual bra today, or else my nipples would be saying hi to him and every other person in this city.

What would sex with Maddox Shaw feel like? He doesn’t strike me as a selfless lover. I bet he wouldn’t leave me wanting for more. He’d do whatever makes him feel good, and that’d just so happen to be what makes me feel good too.

Glancing out the window, I break the silence, sounding far calmer than I feel. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“That depends. Are you going to learn to listen to instructions?”

“I seem to remember following them to a T last week, Mr. Shaw.” It takes me a second to realize I’ve shamelessly said it out loud.

I’m flirting with him.