Tyler (Inked Brotherhood 2)

I groan. It’s the lack of sleep, the nightmares. They haven’t hit me so hard in years. Don’t know what’s happening to me. Must be this place, this town.

The door chimes, and I grudgingly straighten in my seat, trying to sort out my thoughts and fasten a smile on my face for the customers.

I blink stupidly. Shit.

“Erin?” I whisper, my mind unable to process what my eyes are seeing. “What are you doing here?”

I thought she’d vanish, never come back. A knot forms in my throat. Dammit. She looks so sexy, with her short skirt and snug black sweater, her dark hair loose on her shoulders and her eyes sparkling. Her jacket is unbuttoned, giving me a full view of her curvy body.

I’m hard as a rock before she even approaches the desk. Her breasts are perfectly outlined underneath her thin sweater, and it’s not until she clears her throat that I realize I’m staring at them.

I raise my gaze to her face, and immediately I zero in on her lush lips.

Which are forming words.

“Tyler. Let’s talk,” she says, and nods toward the back of the shop.

Her voice is low, and somehow it gets me even harder, so hard I’m not even sure I can walk. “What are you doing, Erin?” I manage, strangled.

“What does it look like?” She tugs at the neckline of her sweater, exposing her golden skin, and breathing becomes a conscious effort.

“I, uh.” I swallow and try again. “You want to talk?”

“Yes.” She places a hand on her hip and tucks her long hair behind an ear with the other, the silver hoops she wears glinting.

Goddammit, how can she transform such an innocent gesture into a turn on? “Okay,” I say and glance around the room. Nobody’s waiting. No appointments penciled in. The few customers already here are in the booths getting inked. “Let’s go.”

I stagger around the desk and follow her to the bathroom. Her hot little ass sways before me, hypnotizing. My mouth is dry. I can’t believe this is happening.

Why is she doing this? I thought she was disgusted with me last time. I wasn’t able to help myself, and I don’t think this time I’ll be any better at controlling my need for her.

She walks into the bathroom, and I follow, snapping the door shut behind me. She’s already sitting on the counter, her legs spread. Her warm gaze holds mine as she reaches down between them—and I have to see what she’s doing, but I can’t break the hold of those copper-and-gold eyes on me.

Then her lips part, and her eyes half-close, and I see she’s pulled her skirt up higher, exposing her black lace panties. Her hand is resting on her thigh, her fingers so close to the lace it makes my own fingers twitch.

Fucking hell. I lean against the wall not to fall as the rest of my blood floods to my dick, making me dizzy. I watch avidly as her fingers slide down and slip under the lace. This is torture.

Suddenly I can’t take it any longer. I push off the wall and press myself between her legs. I grab her ankles, encased in leather boots, and hook them around my back. She yips and moans when I grind myself against her.

My eyes roll up in my head with the pleasure of it. This girl’s driving me crazy. I trail my hands lower, under her short skirt, tug at her panties—

Her hands on mine stop me. “My turn,” she says, her voice breathy, and I stare at her, my mind blank.

“What?”

Her hands drop to my jeans where my aching dick is trapped. The mere brush of her thumbs over it makes me hiss. Can’t remember the last time I found release, now that the fantasy of her isn’t enough.

I’m ready to come in my pants, and she isn’t even touching my cock. Fuck.

Her hands wander higher, under my shirt, dragging it up. Every brush of her fingers on my skin sends small explosions of pleasure down my nerve endings. She pulls it up while locking her feet around my back and dragging me closer, pressing me against her lace-covered core. In a haze, I raise my arms and help her pull my T-shirt off, impatient to feel more. More of her.

Her eyes dilate, and a soft gasp escapes her lips as her fingertips touch the pendant she gave me, the silver tree of life, and then trail on my tats. They linger on the word carved into my chest, then move down to the vertical scar on my abdomen and lower, to the waistband of my jeans.

I can hardly breathe when she slowly unzips my fly and pushes the fabric down around my hips, exposing my black briefs. I can’t… can’t think, can’t remember the last time a woman just touched me like this. Ever since leaving this town, since leaving Erin, it’s only been quick fucks, me in control, pushing my dick into some random chick and taking my pleasure.

Nobody has thought about giving me pleasure, and it’s tightening the knots inside my chest in a way that’s both painful and amazing.

Her graceful little hands come closer and closer to my cock that’s trying to push its way out of my briefs, bent painfully sideways, and I realize my first such time won’t last long. My balls are drawn excruciatingly tight and high, and my dick feels like it’s about to explode.