Savoring Mila (Rockers' Legacy Book 3)

They were both wearing long sleeves, so I couldn’t see Lyric’s ink or if Luca had any of his own. They had the same haircut, the same smug-ass grin, but he was right, there was something definitely different about the eyes of the guy on the left. And when I looked closer, really examined the way they were both grinning, I knew exactly which one was Lyric.

“Your smile is a hundred times better than your brother’s,” I told him, handing back the phone. “And yeah, I see something in his eyes. Like, at any moment, he might toss a bomb in your face or something.”

He tossed back his head, laughing hard. “That’s exactly what he’s like. You nailed it and haven’t even met him yet.”

My heart squeezed at the “yet,” but I knew it wasn’t ever going to happen. All we got was one night. I wasn’t going to meet his brother or anyone else in his family. That shouldn’t have made me sad, but it did.

“What?” he asked, his voice deepening as he looked down at me. “What’s wrong?”

Realizing I must be broadcasting what I was feeling, I cleared my expression and focused on the here and now. Having a little time with him was better than none at all, and I would take all I could get. “Do you miss your brother now that he’s in Tennessee?”

“I’m used to not seeing him every day at this point. He went to college in Alabama, and I stayed closer to home and went to UCLA.” He picked up the tattoo gun and added more ink. I barely felt the needle as he brushed it over the tender skin between my breasts.

“That’s my plan too,” I murmured. “I’m going to Trinity, which is the local college back home. It’s pretty prestigious, though. The law program is phenomenal.”

“If you’re going there, then I know it is.”

I narrowed my eyes on him, thinking he was just tossing a line at me, but his face was completely serious as he continued to tattoo me. He was being sincere, and pleasure filled my soul with warmth.

“Monroe has been accepted at a few different colleges, but she hasn’t made up her mind where she wants to go yet.” I sighed unhappily. “She’s running out of time to choose, but I’m hoping she will just stay local with me. We’ve never spent more than a few nights apart before, and I don’t know if I could handle us being separated for months at a time.”

“It was difficult for Luca and me in the beginning, but we got used to it.” He wiped at a spot he’d just finished inking and inspected his work. “Almost done, babe.”

I glanced down, but I couldn’t make out anything of what he’d created. My skin was starting to welt up a little and was an angry red, but that wasn’t surpr

ising to me.

“I can add to this later on, if you want, and make it an entire chest piece.” He added more ink. “Just say the word, and I’ll make you my greatest masterpiece, Mila.”

I wanted to tell him then and there that I wanted him to spend the rest of his life inking only my skin. Instead, I closed my eyes and pushed all thoughts of leaving him come morning out of my head.

Ten minutes later, he did a final wipe down and made an appreciative noise in the back of his throat as he looked at his hard work. Opening my eyes, I glanced down at myself.

“Let me take a picture so you can see it better,” he said and picked up his phone.

By the time he handed it to me, I was practically bouncing with excitement. “It’s a key.” And it was the most beautiful key tattoo I’d ever seen. It was a skeleton key, old and tarnished, but when I looked closer, I realized the shape of it was really the letters of his name in intricate cursive with a heart at the end.

He really had marked my skin, claiming it as his own.

And I fucking loved it.

“It’s my new favorite tattoo,” I whispered, touching my fingertips to the center of my chest.

“Don’t rub it,” he cautioned, and I dropped my hand. I knew better than to rub fresh ink, but all I wanted was to touch where he had given me a part of himself. “Let me put some ointment on it and tape you up.”

His touch was gentle as he applied fresh ointment and then put gauze over the tattoo before taping it into place. As soon as the last piece was secure, I dropped the two hand towels from my breasts and pulled his head down. I devoured his lips with my own, unable to hold back what I was feeling another second.

We’d spent plenty of time getting to know each other. I’d let him brand me, and now I needed him on a basic, primal level. From the moment I’d set eyes on him, the sexual chemistry between us had been off the charts, and I was surprised we’d lasted this long before tearing off each other’s clothes.

His weight pressed me into the couch cushions as he came down beside me, his giant hands touching every inch of bare skin he could reach.

He tasted slightly sweet and tangy and a little smoky from the barbecue sauce on the chicken wings, but there was something intoxicating just under that which went straight to my head faster than the Spirytus ever could.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Mila,” he murmured against my ear in his deep voice. “But I need to see the rest of you.”

Before I could blink, he was working my jeans and panties down my thighs, his big body following them. I heard him inhale deeply, breathing in the scent of my pussy, and then his mouth was feasting on me. His tongue spread my lips, drinking me in. His tongue curled over my clit, and I was completely lost.

I stabbed my fingers through his short dark hair, lifting my hips, silently begging for more because all I could get past the sob that was twisting my insides was a garbled “Please, Lyric,” before he thrust two fingers deep into my pussy and I exploded for him.