Chapter Three
Nick
Evie James was the most understated sexy girl I’d ever met in my entire fucking life. She was quiet, but when she spoke chills shot down my spine. Her voice was a little soft and she had the slightest hint of a drawl; it was almost like every syllable was meant to be whispered again my ear. And don’t even get me started on her appearance. She was so fucking pretty. Her dark hair was long and straight, and I wanted to wrap it around my fist and pull her head back, exposing her slender throat. She was thin and tall, like a dancer. Her dark eyes seemed to see everything at once. And that fucking perfect thigh I’d been touching for the last two hours? Kill me now. I wanted to sink my teeth into her flesh more than I wanted my next breath.
But the absolute best part about Evie? She had no fucking clue what she was doing to me.
“You like it?”
“It’s so good.” She put her hand over her lips, like she was embarrassed that she’d talked with her mouth full.
“Snuffers has the best burgers around.” I smiled then took another large bite out of mine. “You feeling okay? Not in too much pain or anything?” I glanced down, looking at my art covering her flawless skin. It made my dick twitch in my pants.
I’d given Evie a pair of shorts to put on before we left the shop for dinner. They looked good on her, real fucking good. I was positive that they were shorter than anything she’d normally wear. They belonged to one of the girls who worked the counter for us from time to time. I was pretty sure she was fucking Bleu when I wasn’t looking, which was why her clothes ended up left behind.
She shook her head. “It aches a little, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
I believed that. That gorgeous, innocent girl slept through most of her large thigh piece. She was tough, way tougher than she gave herself credit for. “Tomorrow will probably be worse. You can take some ibuprofen tonight when you get home.”
She wrinkled her nose, which was fucking adorable. “I don’t want to go home. Home is where I’m hated.”
“I seriously doubt she hates you.” I sat my food down, wiping my hands on a napkin. “If anything, she’s jealous.”
She scoffed. “You sound like my dad.”
Evie James could, for sure, call me daddy if she wanted to. But I hated that school hadn’t even started and she was already dreading her new life here. “Look, girls are catty. We all know it.” I took a long sip from my beer. “You can’t show weakness. You can’t let her walk all over you.” I grew up an only child, but I had three girl cousins—I knew the way the world worked. “You’re hot as hell, your legs go on for days, and you’re obviously smart if you got into SMU. Believe me, she’s jealous.”
“You’re a good guy, Nicky.”
I sent her a small shrug. “I’m really not.” I was young, somewhat well off thanks to hard work, and covered in tattoos and muscles. I got around. And I wasn’t always that nice when I was kicking chicks out of my bed before the sun came up.
“You are to me.”
She had me there. I’d found myself on more than one occasion going out of my way to make her smile. And this dinner? I never, and I mean never, agreed to see my clients after I’d tattooed them. It blurred a line, and it was against my own personal policy. I could tell myself it was because Evie seemed like she could use a friend, except she was hot as fuck and friendship wasn’t on my mind when I looked at her.
“Will you have sex with me?”
I choked on the tater tot I’d just popped into my mouth. “What?” I pounded my chest, coughing and trying to clear my airway. Had I heard her right? Was I hallucinating?
“Will you have sex with me?” She spoke louder, enunciating every word like I didn’t speak English. And also like we weren’t in a crowded restaurant on a Friday night.
“Are you serious?” Not that this was the first time I’d been propositioned by a chick after I inked her. It was the adrenaline; it was the rush. I always turned them down. It wasn’t a good mix. They tended to mistake the overabundance of endorphins as love at first sight. It didn’t really seem like she was that kind of girl though. She was quiet and reserved, or at least she had been two hours ago. “Uh, Evie, don’t get me wrong. You’re sexy as fuck, and I’d love to.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
How had her roommate ever thought she was shy? There wasn’t nothing shy about this chick. “No. But I, uh…”
“I’m not asking you to marry me, or even date me.” She wiped the corner of her mouth with her still pristine napkin. “One night. That’s it.” She folded her hands and put them in her lap.
“Just one night?” Was this a trap? Was she going to tie me to my bed and then murder me? It was the quiet ones you had to look out for, that had to be a saying for a reason, right?
“Yep. One night.” She took a deep breath and then bit at her plump bottom lip. She’d done that a few times back at the shop. and each time I felt like my brain had short-circuited. “What do you say?”
This was a hella terrible idea. This was something I never did, not once. But damn she was hot, and I really wanted to see what she was like when she let go. It was as if I couldn’t help myself where she was concerned.
“Ah, yeah.” I raised my hand, signaling our waiter. If she wanted to kill me, at least I’d die happy. “Let’s go.”
***
Evie was standing in my living room, a chilled glass of wine in her hand. Yeah, I had wine. Didn’t make me a pussy or anything. She’d seemed so bold and sure of herself in the restaurant. But the closer we’d gotten to my place, the more she’d clammed up. I turned on some music and then joined her, setting my beer bottle on the coffee table.
“I can take you home any time. There is no pressure here, okay?” She was the one who wanted to come back to my place; she was the one who had put sex on the table. But I’d never push, and I sure as fuck would never make her feel guilty for backing out.
She shook her head, downing her wine. “Can I have some more?” That was her second glass. When she’d drained the first one I hadn’t thought too much about it. But now? Asking for a third in under five minutes?
“Nope.” I raised my eyebrows as I shook my head. “If you need to drink a bottle of wine to hook up with me, that probably means you don’t actually want to.” I sent her an understanding smile. “And that’s okay. It’s totally okay. I can take you home. Or we can watch a movie and you can sleep on the couch. I can take you home tomorrow.” I’d do anything she wanted to. I liked hanging out with her, and if she told me she wanted to go on a midnight stroll down the shoulder of I-75, I’d do that too. The shop didn’t open until noon on Saturdays; I had the time.
“No, I want to stay.” She straightened her spine, lifting her chin. “I need to do this.”
She needed to do this? What the hell did that mean? I was seconds away from asking her when she kind of launched herself at me. I caught her hips, grabbing her perfect ass when she wrapped her legs around my waist. Her mouth on mine felt amazing, and her kiss only a little timid.
I moved one hand to her silky dark hair as I sat down on the couch, Evie straddling my lap. She moved back, giving herself room to take off her shirt. My mouth immediately went to her white lacey bra and my fingers to the clasp in the back.
She smelled like oranges and her skin was the smoothest I’d ever felt. I moved my mouth back to her neck, my hands covering her small tits. She fumbled with my belt, and I slid one hand into her shorts. “You’re so fucking wet.” I rubbed on her clit, my dick straining against my zipper. I needed to taste her, I had to.
“I’m sorry.”
“Huh? For what?” I sat up a little, maneuvering her to her back. I pulled her shorts off, careful not to rub against her fresh ink. I placed kisses on her flat, bare stomach, working my way down to where I really wanted to be.
“You s-said, I w-was, um…”
Her voice was small, her words stuttered in an almost whisper. I picked my head up, confused. “Wet?” She nodded, the blush on her cheeks more red than pink. It was then that I noticed the tremor in her legs, the shallowness of her breaths. The bold Evie from dinner had vanished, and in her place was a girl that seemed terrified.