Page 2 of Inked Nights

“No, I wasn’t laughing at that, but isn’t the whole point of…this, that we don’t know each other?” She held out her hand when he would have answered. She didn’t need to know what he had to say about their arrangement. It was weird enough already, even with how hot it was. “I was snorting at the whole ‘sugar’ thing. I’ve never heard you call me that, and we live in Denver, not the south. I don’t know where you picked that up.”

D shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “A client said it. I must have subconsciously absorbed it.”

It was on her tongue to ask him what kind of client, but that wasn’t who she and D were to each other. She would do well to remember that. Even D seemed a little annoyed that he’d let that bit of his life slip. But instead of saying more, he took another sip of his scotch, then turned on the stool so his legs were caging hers. She didn’t mind. At this point, she’d use any excuse to get closer to him, to have him touch her, even if it broke her in the end.

Yes, she was an idiot, but she couldn’t help it.

Not with D.

Because she knew his rules, too.

One night a month.

No last names…or firsts for that matter.

No promises.

She let out a deep breath, aware that he was watching her. She needed to stop thinking about what she shouldn’t want and just live in the moment. It was how she’d gone through every other month in the past with D, and it would be how she got through tonight, too.

“I’m glad you made it,” she said, honestly. Probably too honestly, but she was doing her best not to question herself the entire night like she was prone to do. The only time she was able to forget everything was when D helped her, and she knew she couldn’t always rely on that.

He studied her face, and she wondered what he saw. Wondered why she cared.

“I’m glad I did, too.” He held up his glass, and she did the same, knowing their routine was anything but. “To inked nights.”

She grinned. “Always.”

She knew the ink that was hidden under his clothes just as he knew the ink that lay under hers. Inked nights had been a passing comment between the two of them on their first night and had been their toast ever since.

Olivia took a sip of her drink, the sweetness coating her tongue. When he reached out and wiped some of the sugar from her lip, she flicked out her tongue, needing to taste him, as well.

“Sugar,” he said with a wink, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“Indeed.”

They finished their drinks, looking at only each other. For all she knew, there could be hundreds of people around them, and yet he was it for her. And maybe, just maybe, she was it for him. She’d already paid for her martini since she didn’t have a room, and D set out cash next to his drink, not bothering to wait for a bill. They never paid for each other’s drinks, never got close enough to a receipt to see a name. And while he paid for the hotel room, they didn’t bother with gifts or fancy words either.

Their nights were just about the two of them.

When he slid off his stool and took her hand, she knew she would follow, knew she would soon be in a bed they shared but didn’t own. Others might look at them, wonder, or know, but nobody but D mattered in her mind—at least for this moment. They went into the elevator together but weren’t alone. There would be no teases, no touches as they waited to arrive on their floor. Of course, there never were because it was only them when they were within the walls of the hotel room. He never touched her beyond taking her hand or guiding her with his hand on the small of her back.

His presence was foreplay enough for her. There didn’t need to be extra touches or caresses. As soon as the hotel room door closed behind them, however, everything would change.

Just like she wanted, just like she needed it to.

D pressed the key against the sensor, and as soon as the green light lit, she knew this was it. Just the two of them and no one else. When the door closed behind them, her pulse pounded, and she swallowed hard, knowing that it was time.

Finally.

“I’m going to unzip that dress, but not before I have those panties of yours. Take them off.”

She loved the way his voice sent shivers down her body. “I’m not wearing any.”

He let out a rough curse and then was on her, his mouth on hers, his hands running down her sides. When she arched against him, her back against the door, and her breath coming in pants, he pulled away, his gaze roaming over her body.

“No panties? You were down in that lobby, with all those other men around, without wearing panties?”

She licked her lips, needing more. Needing him. “I figured it would save time.”