Playing (Inked Hearts 2)

I give up on figuring it out now. Tune to Days of Our Lives. The soap grabs almost none of my attention.

But it's enough to take the edge off the nerves fluttering around my stomach.

Today.

It's happening today.

Soon.

With every commercial break, those nerves smack into each other a little harder.

I nearly jump when the door handle turns.

He steps inside all tall, tattooed, and handsome.

He's in his usual outfit. Black jeans. Black converse. And a v-neck, a powder blue one that matches my glasses.

Wicked I'm going to have my way with you smile on his beautiful face.

He kicks the door closed. Tosses his keys on the table. "Hey."

"Hey." My voice barely eeks out. "How was work?"

"Fucking awful."

"Oh."

"Couldn't stop thinking about you." He leaves his shoes by the door. "It took me forever to do a fucking heart tattoo."

"An anatomical heart?"

He shakes his head. "A tiny black outline." He holds his fingers in the shape of a heart. "You own my thoughts. You know that?"

"You do too."

He closes the distance between us.

I take his hand and let him pull me to my feet.

He presses his palm into my lower back, holding my body against his. "You think about anything besides fucking me today?"

Fuck, the pressure from his palm—

The intensity in his dark eyes—

The demanding edge to his voice—

I only barely manage to respond. "No."

His voice softens. "You're nervous."

"A little."

He slides his hand over my ass and thighs then traces the hem of my dress. "I'll walk you through it."

I just barely nod. It's too much. Too intense. And too many other thoughts are screaming for my attention. I need him erasing them. I need him making me forget.

He leans down to brush his lips against mine. It's soft. Barely a kiss. Barely a taste.