Playing (Inked Hearts 2)

My cock rouses at the thought of being the first inside her. Fuck, my lips, my tongue, my fingers—every part of me wants to be her first.

Not happening.

"You looking for a nautical tattoo?" I shoot back.

Her smile spreads over her cheeks. "Maybe. What do you suggest?"

I drag my fingertips over her shoulder, drawing the shape that best suits her. It's a bad idea, touching her like this. It's doing shit to me.

And from the way her eyelids are pressing together and her lips are parting with a sigh, I'm pretty sure it's doing shit to her.

Fuck, I need a thousand cold showers.

Even if Kaylee wasn't Em's best friend, she's a sweet girl. Someone who deserves a nice guy. A guy who can give her a normal life. Not an asshole who destroys everything he touches.

Even so, I trace the outline of a would-be tattoo up to the tip of her shoulder. "A mermaid."

"I like it."

"I know. You've seen The Little Mermaid a thousand times."

"At least two thousand." She looks up at me. "What do you say? Right now? I'm finally old enough to sign the form."

"Okay." I take her hand and pull her to her feet. "Let's walk to the shop. One topless mermaid."

Her eyes go wide. She stammers, presses her toes together. The plastic of her heels clicks. Her teeth sink into her lip. "I, uh..."

"Hate having your bluff called?"

"No, I just... I need to think about it a little more."

"Bullshit." I can't help but smile. She's adorable flustered.

"No, just regular... uh... that isn't why I came out here."

I arch a brow.

She scoots toward me. It's a tiny movement. Soft. More like the Kaylee I know. The sober one.

"Well, it's my birthday." Her fingers curl around my wrist. "And I want a birthday kiss."

How about a birthday fuck? How about a birthday coming on my face until my lips are numb?

"I only give birthday spankings." My voice is steady even though my heart is pounding against my chest. Fuck, the thought of bending Kaylee over that table and—

"Okay." She presses her lips together. "Let's go. Right here, right now."

"You can handle eighteen?"

She nods.

She can't, but it's tempting anyway...

"Let's go, Brendon." She takes my hand and places it on her hip. Her eyes meet mine. They bore into mine. They demand every thought in my head. Or at least all the ones about stripping her naked. "Or did I call your bluff?"

"Bend over and plant your hands on the glass if you want to find out." She is calling my bluff. And now I'm calling hers.

Only this is one time—