Fireball (Cheap Thrills 1)

“You tidied it up,” I murmured, running my hand along his jaw. Jesus, even the soft hairs brushing over my fingertips did it for me.

“It needed it,” he replied, leaning down and resting his forehead against mine. “And I noticed your skin going pink because of it here,” he swept a thumb along the skin at the top of my breast and then over the dip of my cleavage. “Not that I mind, I love knowing I’ve left my mark, but I didn’t want it to happen to your face so I trimmed it earlier than normal.”

I’d noticed the redness left by it, and I’d had to talk myself out of using vibrating Dave because of it. That poor vibrating cock would never get the same response again after having big baton bone Dave. Even now, thinking about the rash and how it had gotten there had me twitching as my nipples hardened – something he didn’t miss seeing as how he was still looking at my chest.

Moving his thumb down, he rubbed across one through my top, the side of his mouth twitching up into a smile at the way I jerked in response.

“Love that, baby,” he murmured, finally looking back up into my eyes.

What I saw there made me pause. Something was different about him, like he wasn’t feeling as settled as he normally was. His eyes were usually molten lava and soft when we were like this, but right now he looked slightly stressed. Then again, if I had his job, I’d probably be a stressed out mental case, so it was understandable.

Going up onto my tiptoes, I pressed a kiss against his lips, relieved when they opened, allowing me entry. I’d only intended on giving him a small kiss, but it rocketed out of control quickly and I ended up pressed against the wall, one of his hands on my ass and the other in my hair. Not that I was one to talk, I’d shoved one into the back pocket of his jeans to hold his crotch against mine while my bruised one wrapped around the side of his neck.

Pulling his mouth away from mine, he stared down at me for a minute. “You’re a freaking fireball. It’s like I can’t keep my self-control around you.”

Leaning in, I grinned up at him. “Backatacha. I only meant for that to be one of those quick peck kisses, but that kinda failed. Not that I’m complaining.”

Loosening his hold around my back, he leaned back slightly and looked down at what I was wearing. “You look beautiful.” His eyes caught on the thin silver cuff around my neck with a detailed silver rose that hung from it. Smiling, he touched it with the tip of his finger, tracing over the bent edges of the petals carefully. “How’s your tattoo?”

Shrugging, I thought about what it had been like after my shower tonight. “Not too bad. There are the normal flaky bits of it coming off, but I keep putting the gook on it that Ellis gave me, and I’ve always used Vaseline on them too, so I just alternate gook with gook. It’s healing pretty quickly,” I lifted the leg in question out to the side slightly so he could see what I meant. Not missing a beat, he hooked his hand under my thigh and lifted it slightly higher. Proving that he really did have big hands, he shifted slightly so that his thumb could trace around the edge of the newly inked skin with the rest of his fingers still under it. Basically, he could fit his hand around my thigh. Not that his fingers met, but still. How awesome was that? I wasn’t a big girl, but I wasn’t skinny either. It didn’t bother me at all, but every woman had insecurities about some part of her body, and I definitely had them about my own. If he hadn’t just walked in the first and second time I put a bikini on to go swimming, it could have taken him months to see me like that. My hair and tattoos might be outgoing and adventurous, but it didn’t mean the rest of me had to follow suit. I really was a mass of contradictions that even I didn’t understand – good luck to the rest of the world who tried to.

“Is it hurting?”

It had done the morning after I’d had it done, but now not so much. Somehow, Ellis was a tattooing God, because he’d got it all done in one session. Almost four hours with the machine working my skin as he wove his magic and created a masterpiece. I hadn’t realized what the shaded designs he’d put between the main images had been to begin with. In fact, I’d just thought they were clouds or something until I looked at them after my shower the morning after it and saw they made up a faint image of the eye of a peacock’s feather like the one on my arm. That had been an emotional moment, and when I’d shown Jose, she’d teared up realizing what it all meant to me.