Innocent Ink (15 page)

She had no delusions that he could forget the years he’d spent alone in the apartment above Hot Ink, or that he’d want to. But he’d clearly decided on change, and that made her want to breathe a sigh of relief.

The bedroom was exactly how she remembered it, and the bed was soft beneath her when he wrapped his arms around her and they sank down onto it, settling with her halfway in his lap.

She’d worn a strapless sundress, purposely having chosen something that would leave her shoulders bare for the tattooing process. He unzipped it in the back, baring her to the waist in one easy movement.

He sighed, his breath rushing hot against her ear and neck as he reached around her from behind and cradled her breasts. She hadn’t worn a bra – one, because strapless bras were torture devices, especially for women with breasts as ample as hers, and two, because she’d fantasized about this moment. The heat and sound of his breath stirred a deep ache in her core, and she leaned back against him, arching her spine.

He squeezed her breasts, his fingers denting her flesh and making her ache there, too. “Careful of your tattoo,” he said, his voice low. “It’s probably still a little tender, huh?”

“A little,” she breathed, not moving as he circled her nipples with his fingertips, rubbing and then pinching lightly in a way that seemed certain to drive her absolutely crazy. “But I don’t mind.”

“All the same…” He slid one hand lower, over her belly and beneath her dress, which had pooled around her hips, “we should make a point not to irritate it.”

Her head swam as he slipped his fingers into the waistband of her panties and found her clit. Instead of replying, she bit her lip and nodded.

She was already wet – had been from the moment he’d unzipped her dress. He worked his fingertips against the aching bud of her clit, so close to the moisture she could feel on her folds below, dampening her panties. Memories of the night before, in her kitchen, swirled through her mind, but recollections of before she’d left for New York were more powerful. The walls of her pussy shrank at the remembered feel of his hard cock inside her, his shaft stretching her softer flesh.

When he pulled his hand from her panties, her clit throbbed in protest. She’d been close – so close that little tremors were still racing through her core, the almost-bliss fading slowly.

“Come here.”

She did, and helped him shimmy what little clothes she’d been wearing off. The lace panties – she’d chosen those especially for this night, too – were the last to go. He paused for a moment, his gaze heavy on the tender area between her thighs, before slipping them off of her.

With nothing on, the air seemed cool against her folds and the hot flesh above. She still ached everywhere he’d touched her – her breasts, her clit – and where she’d imagined him, far inside her core. When he gathered her up and lowered his head to her chest, she gasped as his breath hit her nipples, streaming over their stiff peaks.

He closed his lips around one and drew it past his teeth, simultaneously pressing a hand against the small of her back. The pressure and pull of his mouth against her breast sent a shiver down her spine and another shrinking contraction through her core. He was still dressed, but his erection pressed against her thigh, stiff beneath his jeans.

Visions of slipping those jeans off of him raced through her head, but what he was doing felt so good that she gripped his shoulders instead, letting her nails bite into his muscle. When he raised his head to press a kiss against her lips, she lowered her hands into his lap and undid the fly of his jeans, her heart beating a little faster as the soft, metallic noise of the zipper sounded between them.

She pulled and tugged, getting his jeans off of him and sucking in a breath when he took off his shirt, revealing muscle and ink she’d dreamed about during nights spent alone in New York. She let her gaze rush over his torso, following the slashing lines of his body and curving patterns of his tattoos. Her eyes froze on his right side, by the large, looping script that read
Alice
.

There was a new line of script – a smaller one. It hadn’t been there before; she’d memorized his tattoos already. Besides, it was obviously fresh – the ink was a stark black, and the letters were a little raised, the skin red around the edges. Her fingers tingled with the urge to reach out and run her hand down his side, to explore the new feature on his skin. But she didn’t dare – it was clearly still healing.

When Jed wrapped his arms around her, reclined on the bed and eased her on top of him, everything else – even his new tattoo – faded from her mind. Straddling his hips, with a knee on either side of him, her pussy was pressed firmly against the hard shaft of his dick.

“Thought this would be an easy way to make sure we’re gentle on your new tattoo.” He flexed his hips a little, creating a hint of friction between his erection and her slick folds.

She gasped. Easy on her tattoo, maybe, but not the rest of her – her channel was already drawing a little tighter in anticipation. They’d never made love like this. There were a lot of things they hadn’t done, really, but it felt natural to rise a little on her knees, allowing him space to slip his hand between their bodies and guide the tip of his cock to her pussy.

He slid inside her in an easy stroke that made her gasp. His motion was smooth, but days of going without his presence inside her had left her tight and aching. Before she could so much as inhale, he pressed his fingertips to her clit, picking up where he’d left off minutes ago as he rocked into her from below.

She managed to breathe – hard – and rolled her hips too, making an effort to complement his movements as everything inside her drew so taut that it felt like she might shatter into a million little pieces.

She braced herself with her hands on his shoulders before she came, holding him hard as the first wave of her climax rushed through her, all heat and tension. He thrust deep into her, each stroke deliberate as he moaned. The sound was a lot like the ones she was making, only deeper.

Coming with him so hard inside her, thick and unyielding in the center of her tightened core, was a feeling that sent pleasure radiating all the way to the tips of her fingers and curling toes. It was most intense in her middle, where it made her pussy shrink and pulse around the base of his shaft. She moved her hips, pushing back and sending him even deeper as she fought for breath.

His thighs were hard as rocks against hers, as firm as the rest of him as he rocked her, making the bed shake as she balanced on top of him, riding out the tail-end of her climax. By the time the contractions had ebbed and the searing bliss had faded, she was breathless and could feel the heat of a full-body blush warming her from head to toe.

He moved his hand from between her thighs to her hip, gripping her there as he continued to push into her hard enough to make the mattress tremble. The vibrations raced up her spine and through her body, defying her to remain still. Still bracing herself against his chest, she held on a little tighter as he groaned, each stroke so deep-reaching that little tremors raced through her core again, like aftershock.

The position made it easy to watch his face. With his head tipped back against the pillow, his hair was as mussed as relatively short hair could be, dark and a little wild around his temples. His eyes were tightly closed, the lashes black against his skin, and his lips still appeared swollen from when they’d kissed. When her name rushed over them, another one of those small internal shivers struck her, drawing her pussy tight again around his cock.

He was still breathing hard when he stopped, and the sound of his breath reminded her of him saying her name. Hearing that always made her glow a little inside.

The window was glowing too, a faint light illuminating the curtain. It was a pure, soft glow – not streetlight. “It’s so late,” she said, her gaze lingering where the moonlight shone through the window. The excitement of being tattooed and then sex had kept fatigue at bay, but a sleepy feeling was already creeping through her veins, urging her to curl at Jed’s side after she rose and slid off of him.

“We can sleep in,” he said, gripping her wrist and interlacing his fingers with hers as she stood beside the bed.

She nodded. “I can help you move tomorrow, if you want. I don’t have any shoots booked.”

“That’d be great.”

He was still hard, his cock flushed and gleaming from what they’d just done. A little thrill went through her as she contemplated the next day. Surely they’d find some time to do more than just move boxes. Would she spend the night there with him in the Allegheny West house? Her toes curled against the carpet at the thought.

Visions of the next day continued to play through her mind as she slipped away into the bathroom to get cleaned up. When she returned, Jed was still lying exactly where she’d left him, his head tipped back a little. The position put his body on an appealing display, and the long line of his fresh ink caught her eye. “Your new tattoo is in Latin, isn’t it?” she asked as she sank down onto the edge of the bed, her curiosity rekindled now that her lust had ebbed.

He nodded.

“What does it say?”

“
Durate et vosmet rebus servate secundis
. It means ‘carry on and preserve yourselves for better times’. I had Eric tattoo it for me last night, after the shop closed.”

“I like it. The meaning, I mean, and it looks good on you, too.”

He ran one hand down his side, his fingers passing within a bare inch of the new ink as they skimmed over the larger text that spelled out Alice’s name. “I got this tattoo just after Alice and I got married. And this one…” he touched the Latin script that sprawled across his left ribcage, “not long after she died.”

Thus passes the glory of the world
. The words echoed through Karen’s mind as she thought back to her first night with Jed.

His fingers still hovered over the black letters. “But this tattoo is more about my grief than her. I always meant to get another one to honor her. I just – I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It seemed so final, like if I put a memorial in my skin, the fact that she was gone would be irreversible. I knew that was true, but I didn’t want to see a reminder every time I looked in the mirror.”

She nodded as something inside her cracked, aching for him.

“I don’t feel that way anymore.” He met her eyes, and the intensity in his dark irises made her heart skip a beat. “I feel different about a lot of things, lately.”

She nodded again, because her throat felt a little too tight and she didn’t know what to say, anyway. “What made you choose those words for your tattoo?”

“I read it somewhere – thought it seemed fitting. Alice would’ve liked it, I think.”

“It came from a book?”

“Virgil. The ancient Roman poet. He wrote the line ages ago. Guess he knew what he was talking about.” He touched his side again, letting his fingertips skim the fresh lettering. “Not long ago, his words wouldn’t have meant anything to me. They would’ve seemed like a joke. Now that I can see the wisdom in them … I don’t ever want to forget them.”

“I think it’s a great tattoo,” she said, placing one of her hands against his palm and entwining her fingers with his.

He was still meeting her eyes, and the depth of his gaze made her words seem shallow. Her emotions were a whirlwind, though, half-threatening to send a tear or two sliding down her face. The tattoo on Jed’s side was evidence of a metamorphosis that pulled hard on her heartstrings when she contemplated it.

“I’m glad you think so,” he said. “And Karen…” He gripped her hand, exerting pressure that wasn’t quite gentle.

“Yeah?” She was still naked, but his attention never wavered from her eyes. Likewise, she couldn’t look away from his, not even to let her gaze wander over his new tattoo again.

“I know what love is,” he said. “I know that nobody is promised anything, either. Not even one more day, or one more breath. So I have to tell you now, while I have the chance – I love you.”

Her breath froze inside her lungs, then rushed out in a sigh she couldn’t contain as his words began to settle in.

“I know I was stubborn at first. I was afraid I was wrong for you, afraid my love would hold you back. I didn’t want to hinder you.”

“You couldn’t have been more wrong. Jed, that’s not the case at—”

“I know.” He squeezed her hand a little more tightly. “I know that now.”

She lost the battle she’d been fighting with the stinging pressure behind her eyes. A tear slipped out, and she wound up smiling anyway. “I love you too.” Saying it made her feel unbelievably light, like she might rise up and drift toward the ceiling like a helium balloon.

Jed anchored her with an embrace, pulling her close and holding her tight against his chest. In the shelter of his arms, the night seemed suddenly young again. When he pressed a kiss against her mouth, she yielded to the pressure of his tongue against her lips, closing her eyes against the room’s faint moonlit glow.

EPILOGUE

Only the lure of buttercream frosting could induce Karen to put down her camera. That and a little encouragement from Jed. “I’m sure you can afford to stop taking pictures for five minutes,” he said, pressing a hand to the small of her back and rubbing lightly.

Five minutes? Who was he kidding? It would only take her three minutes, tops, to eat the piece of cake he’d just handed her.

“Come on,” he said, guiding her toward a chair at one of the reception hall tables.

She couldn’t resist. Not when he was in his groomsman’s tuxedo, looking gorgeous in the flattering cut and with tattoos peeking out at the cuffs. She smiled at him as she sank down onto the seat, carefully laying her camera to rest on the tablecloth.

“Mmm. What is this filling, raspberry ganache?” The creamy mixture ran through the center of her chocolate cake slice like a hot pink ribbon, and its smooth sweetness practically melted against her tongue.

Jed shrugged, his broad shoulders rising and falling beneath his tuxedo jacket. “I don’t even know what ganache is, but this is good.”