Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
What a dumb question. Of course I did.
Connor held onto my pants, helped me stand and walked me over to the full-length floor mirror. His hands rested on my hips as his gaze met mine. “Ready?”
I nodded but my mind was a mess.
What if I hated it?
I didn’t have a great poker face. I, unfortunately, wore my heart on my sleeve.
Connor spun me around and when my eyes landed on the tattoo, my mouth parted and my head snapped up to his.
“Like it?” Unable to speak, I threw my face into his stomach and he laughed, putting a gentle hand to the back of my head. “You like it.” He kissed the top of my head. “I knew you would.”
Breathing deeply, I craned my neck once again to look at the solid black writing on my right ass cheek.
Killer Queen.
One of my favorite songs by one of my favorite bands.
Killer was small and bold in block letters. Queen was directly underneath. It was larger, and far more delicate, written in cursive. In the center of the capital Q was a small crown.
There were no words.
Blaire came up behind us and from the uncertain look on her face, she wasn’t sure if I dug my first tattoo. I beamed at her. “It’s great. Really great.” I sighed happily before taking another look. “I love it. Thank you.”
Blaire looked overjoyed. “You’re welcome.” She winked. “If you’re ever back in the area, come see me. We’ll see if we can decorate that pretty porcelain skin of yours. Splash some color on ya.”
Blaire put what she called a second skin onto both our tattoos with the instructions to leave it on a few days before taking it off. She gave us both a tube of cream to keep the area moisturized but warned me not to overdo it. She explained that tattoo would peel eventually and no matter how much I wanted to, to not pick at it.
Soon after, we were back at the hotel lying on my bed in comfortable silence with a lamp on. It was clear that Connor and I were both tired but not quite ready to go bed. Just when I started to fall asleep, Connor grasped my arm and yanked me. With a yelp of surprise, I was on my stomach and Connor was pulling down my underwear, examining my new tattoo.
He moved to straddle my legs and I let him. His hands came up to run his thumbs along the curve of my ass. He growled low in his throat then caressed the globes before his grip turned harsh. I let out a squeak and clenched my cheeks when his mouth connected with skin.
My surprise quickly turned to pleasure when he sucked the skin on the cheek opposite my tattoo. A throaty moan left me and I relaxed into his touch. His pulling became almost bruising and I blinked into the covers before lifting my head. “Are you giving me a hickey?”
He lapped at my flesh. “Yep.”
When he gently nipped my lower back, a small giggle bubbled up my throat. “You’re crazy.”
I loved that about him.
Suddenly, the room was awash with bright light and the sound of a camera shutter went off. My heart stopped. I craned my head back and watched Connor take another photo of my bare butt. “What are you doing?”
He peered at me. “Just a couple for my spank bank.” At my strong uncertainty, he showed me the photo. On one cheek was my plastic-covered tattoo and on the other was a heart-shaped hickey. It looked weird but cute. “No one can tell it’s you,” he said then added sincerely, “but if you want me to delete it, I will.”
I checked the image again.
You couldn’t tell it was me. It could’ve been anyone with an ass, really.
Shaking my head, I spoke quietly. “It’s okay. Keep it.”
Connor lay on top of me and when he thrust his jean-covered crotch into my butt along with a harsh grunt, I laughed out loud. He rested his dead weight on me, pushing my hair to the side and pressed loud, smacking kisses to the side of my neck, causing my shoulders to jerk and my body to break out in goose bumps. My body shook with mirth. Every minute with Connor was pure enjoyment.
Was every relationship this fun?
Emily….
Oh, right.
Not that this was a relationship.
Connor wasn’t mine. I was just borrowing him from the world.
Sadly, eventually, I would have to return him to the place I found him.
But I wasn’t ready.
Not yet.
Chapter Eighteen
I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll.
Emmy
“‘Walk This Way,’” said Noah from his place at the booth.
We were on the bus, on our way to Jacksonville, and we were passing the time by playing Who sung it?
Luckily, I knew this one.
“Aerosmith,” I said, confident in my answer, stretching out on the three-seater.