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Authors: Kasey Millstead

Tatted Cowboy (7 page)

BOOK: Tatted Cowboy
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I lick my lips and then rip my eyes away, looking at anything but that patch of skin I would love to taste.

I catch his eyes and swallow hard at the blazing look he is giving me.  His blue eyes are burning with passion, so hot I feel my skin begin to heat.

The electric charge in my body amps up a notch as my entire being becomes hyperaware.

I feel like I’m on fire.

“So, uh, um … what do you do?”

He gives me a smirk, as if I should know the answer to the question.  I can’t remember if Gran mentioned it earlier or not, I honestly haven’t been paying a whole lot of attention.

“I’m a tattoo artist.  I own Premier Ink.”

“Oh, right.”  I do vaguely recall Gran saying something about that.  “So, that explains all your tatts,” I add.  Fucking lame, I know, but I can’t think of anything else to say.

He doesn’t seem to mind.  “You like them?”

Fuck yes!  Yes, I love them.  I want to lick every single inch of them.

“Sure,” I shrug, feigning nonchalance.  He sees right through me, though, because he gives me a knowing grin.

“Have you got any?”

“Huh? What?”

“Ink.  You got any?”

“No.” I shake my head.  “Not yet.  I want one though.”

“Well, make sure I’m the one who does it when you decide you’re ready.”

“Oh, okay.” I feel my brow furrow.  “Why’s that?”

He leans in, looking deep into my eyes.  “Because I don’t like the idea of another man’s hands feeling your body.  And, I want to be the one to pop your cherry.”  He says the last part in a deep, husky whisper.  Puffs of warm breath escape him and spread over my face.  My panties become damp and the air in the room suddenly feels thick.

“I brought you back a drink each,” Gran says as she interrupts the moment.  I rear back, pushing further into my chair to put some distance between us.  Reaching over, I grab the glass of lemon squash and take a big drink, determined to cool my overheated body.

“Thanks, Marj,” Luke says, his voice sounding cool as a cucumber, as if he wasn’t affected at all by that little exchange.

“I was talking to Dory while I was getting the drinks and she mentioned you eat here most nights.”  Gran gives him a disapproving look.  “So, I’ll be expecting you at my house each Sunday by five pm for a roast dinner.”

My jaw threatens to drop.

Oh my god!

I grind my teeth to stop from gaping.

Luke attempts to reject Gran’s offer, but she cuts him off, waving her hand in front of herself.  “I won’t take no for an answer, young man,” she says sternly.

“I’d love to,” Luke finally agrees.  He looks over at me and smiles, causing my heart to beat funny in my chest.

“That’s great.” I see Gran nod from the corner of my eye, but once again, I’m trapped in Luke’s blue depths.  “Isn’t that great, Laura?”

“Yep,” I say, my tone betraying me.  It doesn’t really matter, because in two weeks, tops, I’ll be moved into my own place, so I won’t be there anyways.

“I can read you like a book, Laura Marjorie Carlisle,” Gran says, warning in her tone.  “I’ll expect you there every Sunday, without fail, even after you move out.”  She gives me a look. 
The look
.  You know the one parents give their children.  The one that leaves no room to argue but daring them to fight it all the same?  Yeah, that’s the look she just gave me.  I don’t think I’ve been on the end of one of those looks since I was fifteen and I had an argument with my dad about getting my tongue pierced.

Gran must be serious.

I plaster on a fake smile and overly cheerily say, “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Luke begins to chuckle beside me and I desperately want to look.  I don’t though.  Instead, I think about what I’ll say to convince Dory that she needs entertainment tablecloths in her restaurant.

“Thanks for dinner, ladies.  It’s been a pleasure.”  Luke stands and bends at the waist to give Gran a kiss on the cheek.  I get an uninterrupted view of his fine arse as he does it and I take full advantage.  The denim stretches tight across the two perfectly round mounds.  I clasp my hands together in my lap so I don’t reach out and grab him, like a perverted lunatic.

All too soon he straightens, and surprises me by turning and bending down toward me.  His cologne fills my senses and I bite down on my bottom lip.  He catches sight of the action as he leans in closer to my ear.

“I think I told you before not to bite your lip,” he whispers menacingly.

“Why?”  My voice comes out breathless.

“Because I want to do it,” he growls, right before clamping his teeth down over my ear lobe.   

I gasp and my body shivers at the contact despite the electric current running through me.

He releases my flesh and plants his lips just under my jaw.  The rough, inch-long stubble covering his face tickles my jaw as his lips linger.

I feel his presence leave me, and I open my eyes. 
When did they close? 
He’s looking down at me, fire in his gaze.  “Let me know when you’re moving.  I’ll help.”

Before I have a chance to reject his offer, he’s gone.  And only the burning flesh on my neck where his lips were remains.

 

***

 

“What the heck was that about, Gran?” I ask as soon as we’re in the safety of my car.

“What?” she asks innocently.

“You know exactly what.  Oh my god! I can’t believe you pulled that.”

“I don’t know what you think, but all I did was ask a lonely man to have dinner with us.  There’s nothing wrong with keeping people company,” she replies, still with the innocent act.

“Cut the shit, Gran.”

She starts laughing, the cackle filling the car and I find myself joining in despite my efforts to keep a stern face.

“Gran,” I say in a warning tone when our laughter dies down.  “I’m not interested in starting a relationship,” I tell her, my voice soft.

She reaches across and grabs my hand, squeezing it firmly.  “I didn’t suggest a relationship, love.  But, there’s nothing wrong with having another friend.”

Friend?

Could I be friends with Luke?

Honestly, I don’t know.  I’ve never had a male friend that good looking before.  Do friends constantly mentally undress their friends when they’re in their presence? No. I don’t think so. 

“Look, just give it a shot.  Luke is a lovely man, Laura.  He’d be a good friend for you.”

“Okay, Gran.”  I find myself relenting.

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

LUKE

 

Wiping my sweaty hands down the front of my jeans, I slide onto a vacant barstool and signal Dory for a beer.

She returns moments later, twisting the top off the stubby before placing it on the bar.

“How was dinner?” A smile tugs at her lips.  I’m sure she finds it hilarious, considering how talkative Marj is. I bet she thinks it was painful for me, so naturally that means she’s going to find it funny.  She couldn’t be more wrong.

“Marj is a talker,” I reply, fighting my own smile.  Nothing against Marj, but I would have preferred to listen to luscious Laura speak all night, but she hardly said a word.  Such a shame when she’s got a voice as sexy as she does.  I bet if she purred
hello
I’d get a boner.  Fuck, I don’t even reckon she’d have to purr.  Fuck me, the way she sinks her teeth into that bottom lip of hers should be illegal.

Dory hoots a laugh and nods her head.  “She sure is, bless her.  Little Laura has grown into a fine looking young woman hasn’t she?” Her tone sounds nonchalant but I know she’s fishing for information.  Sneaky bloody woman.

“Didn’t know her in her younger days,” I shrug.  “But, she’s a walking fucking fantasy if I ever saw one,” my tone betraying my intentions.

Dory’s eyes go wide at my admission. It’s likely she’s seen me leave the pub on occasion with a woman for a night of fun, but this would be the first time she’s ever heard me speak about a woman that way – as if I’m interested.  And I am. 
Very interested

Dory surprises me by leaning across the bar.  Her weathered face turns hard and she looks me square in the eyes and points a finger at my face.

“Don’t you fucking hurt her,” she warns, her tone soft but deadly.

I frown at her as I jerk back in my seat, shocked.

“I wouldn’t hurt a woman, Doreen. Christ, you know me better than that.”  I’m disgusted she would ever think I’d lay a hand on a woman.

She shakes her head twice.  “Not violently, Luke.  There’s shit you don’t know.”  She cocks an eyebrow at me as if to drill the words in deeper.  “Go easy on her.”

“I will,” I agree, even though I have absolutely no idea what Dory is getting at.

“Good.  And if she pushes you away, don’t give up.  You’d be good for her, Luke.”

“Noted.” 

“Patience is a virtue.  Remember that.”  With those final words of wisdom, she walks away to serve another customer. 

I pull the label off my beer bottle as Dory’s words swirl in my brain. 

There’s shit you don’t know.
  I’m sure there is a whole boatload of shit I don’t know, considering I just met her tonight.  I know Dory’s getting at something deeper, but I’ve got no idea what it is.

Patience is a virtue.
  Patience has never been my strong point.  Determination, on the other hand…

“Hey, man,” Jack Henley snaps me out of my thoughts with a slap on the back.

“G’day, mate.  How’re things on the farm?”

“Good man.  What about at the shop? You keeping busy?”

“Always.  Business has been picking up so much over the last six months, I’m thinking of trying to convince Zeke to come home and help me out,” I tell him before taking a pull of my beer.

“Yeah?  That’s awesome, mate.  Good for you.  Not sure how you’ll go getting Z home, though.”  He laughs once, knowing as well as I do how hard it’s going to be.

“How’s the family?”

“Doing good, man.”  He smiles, broad. Proud.  “Olive’s growing too fast, mate.  Way too fast.  She’s a beauty.  Thinking about upgrading my shotgun.”

I laugh loud.  “Wouldn’t be a bad idea,” I mutter.

“Fancy a game?” He flicks his head in the direction of the dartboard.

“You feel like losin’?” I challenge.

He scoffs and turns, leading the way.

 

***

 

Lining my shot up, I bring my arm back and launch it forward, flicking my wrist in the one motion.  The dart sails through the air and lands right in the centre of the red circle.
Bullseye.

I spin around, raising my arms over my head, and cheer.  “Yeah!  That’s how it’s done!” I hoot. 

Jackson hands me a beer and we find a tall table to stand beside while we finish our drinks. 

We’ve played four games.  It was supposed to be the best of three, then when Jack lost, he changed the rules to best of five.  Even playing the last game, he doesn’t have a hope in hell.  I beat him fair and square.

“I better head home, man, Edie will have my arse if I stay out all night.”

“Bullshit,” I scoff. 

“You’re right.  I just want to get home to my woman.  You’re good company, man, but I like my wife’s way of consoling me when I lose a game of darts.”

“Lucky prick,” I mutter as I bring my beer to my lips and finish it off.

“Yeah, I am.” He smiles.

“Catch ya later.  Anytime you feel like losing again, just give me a call.”

“Whatever you reckon.”  He chuckles as we walk off in opposite directions – him to his ute to head home to the farm, and me on foot to the shop so I can crash for the night.

 

As I curl up on the lounge, instead of thinking about how uncomfortable I am, my thoughts go to a beautiful blonde haired woman with a voice that could bring a man undone.

She comes across as shy and quiet, and I’m not sure if it’s because that’s her personality, or because that’s the effect I have on her.  Either way, one thing’s for sure.  She should talk more often, because her voice. 
Damn!
  I can just imagine how throaty and husky it would sound; moaning my name through her orgasm as I hover above her, my cock sliding in and out of her slick heat, glistening with her arousal as I thrust into her.

My cock pitches a tent in my boxers and I shift onto my back as I slide my hand down beneath the fabric to grip my shaft.  Sliding up and down, slowly at first, my mind moves through different scenarios, all involving her, naked and moaning my name.

I grip myself more firmly and begin pumping harder.  My tongue sneaks out to wet my lip, my mouth watering as I imagine what she tastes like.  I’d eat her pussy for days before fucking her over and over until she thinks she couldn’t possibly come again.  Then, I’d bring her undone once more.

My balls tighten as my legs stiffen.  My cock throbs in my palm and I quickly ready my other hand to catch my cum as I growl her name through my release.


Laura.”

I clean myself up and curl back up on the lounge, possibly even more sexually frustrated than I was before.  I should be sated, but all I want to do is bring my fantasies to life.

Patience is a virtue
.  Dory’s words of wisdom flick through my mind and I close my eyes.

Fucking patience.

BOOK: Tatted Cowboy
10.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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