“I’m not inking you,” he says through gritted teeth, his hands at his side, one gripping a bottle of beer and swinging it idly. He might be trying to pull off casual, but damn, he’s coiled tighter than a class of law students awaiting news on their bar exams.

“Why not?”

The muscles along his jaw ripple and his eyes go dark, murderous, like he’s fighting some kind of internal battle. “You were drinking at Gram’s. I don’t ink anyone who’s consumed alcohol.”

I wave my hand. “I had a glass of wine, Jamie. I hardly call that drinking.”

“You had two glasses. Jared filled your glass before he took you down to the lake, remember?”

“Oh, right. I didn’t realize you were keeping track. Still, I’ve had a meal since then, and I drove here. I’m not under the influence at all.”

Nope, not at all, and the only thing I want to be under is him. But I’m guessing he knows that by now. Heck, he probably knew it the second I asked him if he wanted a drink after walking in on me naked.

He steps up to me, his Adam’s apple bobbing like it’s going down for the third count, and when I catch his scent, a mix of leather and hot, hard man, heat trickles through me. I take in the hardness in his eyes as he glares at me and suddenly I’m not so sure this is my brightest moment. I’m not used to rough and tough guys like him, ones who looks like they’re going to eat me alive. Every instinct I possess tells me Jamie Owens is not a guy one should ever toy with—like I’m doing right now.

Suddenly skittish, I grip the sides of the chairs, about to get up, run far away from this man and the dangers he exudes, when he puts his legs on either side of my chair to cage me in place. His bottle hits the table beside me with a thud and my panicky heart races faster.

“Won’t Daddy get upset?” He angles his head, his eyes moving over my face like he can see right through me. “Or maybe that’s the point.”

“I’m a grown woman,” I say, going on the defense even though there is a sexual storm raging inside me. “I can do what I want.”

“If you really want a tattoo, I’ll give you one.” His gaze leaves my mouth, travels leisurely down my body, and I squirm under his heated glare. He touches me, the pads of his thumb rough on my arm as he slides his hand downward, sending scorching heat through my veins. “But I’m not so sure that’s why you’re really here,” he says, his voice deeper, darker.

“It is.” Hot and needy from his touch, I stroke my pinned thighs. He widens his legs to let me inch mine open. “I want one right here,” I say, naked lust overcoming my concerns and urging me on.

“Are you sure it’s a tattoo you want on your thigh?”

Oh, God, when he looks at me like that, I can barely think. “I . . . uh . . .”

He grips my dress, drags it up my legs slowly, until my thighs are exposed. “Or maybe it’s something else you want between your legs.”

Oh. My. God.

“Like . . .” I begin, my ability to string a coherent sentence together abandoning me. “Like . . . what?”

I suck in a breath, but can’t fill my lungs when he leans forward. “Like this.” He brushes his rough tongue over my inner thigh and the world closes in on me.

“Jamie,” I say, my body quaking from head to toe as his heat penetrates my skin and turns me into a quivering mess. He pulls back and I instantly miss the warmth of his mouth, the way the scruff on his chin chafes my flesh. God, I want him to use me, leave my body sore and abraded come morning.

“Yeah?” he asks, his deep voice rumbling through me as he grips my legs and widens them even more.

“I . . . I want . . .”

“What do you want?” he asks.

“You’re right. I want your tongue,” I say, shocking myself with my boldness, but it’s useless to pretend otherwise. I came here for sex, and there isn’t a damn thing wrong with two consenting adults having a little fun, no strings. Right? I mean, as long as we both know the score, where’s the harm?

“What else do you want?” He lifts my dress higher, until my lace panties are exposed, and when he sucks in a fast breath it does something to me, makes me feel even more brazen, empowered.

“I want your tongue, your mouth, your fingers and . . .” I pause and lean forward, cupping his erection in my hand. “Your cock,” I whisper, outing myself for the needy girl I am, one who hasn’t been touched in far too long.

A shadow of a smile plays on his lips. “The girl wants a lot.”

“Did the girl come to the right place?” Instead of answering, he runs his fingers along the band on my panties, brushing the backs of his fingers over my pubis. I quake beneath his touch as sexual tension hangs heavy. “What . . . what does the boy want?” I ask and he grins.

“The boy wants a lot too.”

“Tell me,” I whisper.

“I’d rather show you.”

He presses his mouth to my sex, licking me though my panties. Oh, yeah, showing is way better than telling. Words are totally overrated.

I flush hotly. “Yes, please,” I murmur and lift my hips, eager for so much more as his soft chuckle vibrates through me. My clit swells, and desperate to feel him, I reach out and put my hand on his chest, feel his fast heartbeat through his T-shirt, one that is preventing me from seeing his gorgeous body. Damn I hate that shirt. I grip it, tug at it, and he reaches behind his head and peels it off. It’s such a sexy guy move, my pulse pounds double-time and I resist the urge to pinch myself. If this isn’t really happening, I don’t want to know. No, I want to live in the fantasy of bad boy Jamie for a few more hours.

“The girl wants this too?” he asks.

I take in the old scars on his body, the ones the tattoos can’t cover. He even has one on his jawline, in the shape of an eagle, I think. I suddenly want to hurt whoever did this to him. But those thoughts are for a later time when I’m not squirming beneath him, a hot needy mess of desire.

“Yes, the girl wants this too,” I say. I shift, and lift my sundress over my head, tossing it to the floor next to his shirt. He gazes at me, takes in my near-nakedness, then zeroes in on my lace bra. My nipples pucker painfully and poke through the material. “Does the boy want these?”

He wets his bottom lip, like he can already taste me. “He does,” he says, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, and I love this little game we’re playing.

But then his jaw clenches and his eyes go serious, almost feral. “Just for the record, I’m not as sweet as Gram thinks I am. I’ve wanted to bend you over and fuck you since the first time I laid eyes on you. You should probably know that before we go any farther.”

“Sweet is overrated,” I say and wiggle my ass in encouragement, eager for him to do just that. The green in his eyes deepens as he slides his hand around my head, roughly bringing my lips to his.

“Does the girl know what she’s getting herself into?” he murmurs into my mouth, as we exchange hot, heated kisses that burn through my blood and zap my brain cells.

Not really.

“Yes,” I say and widen my legs in a silent invitation. “Does the boy know what he’s getting . . . into?” I tease, but he goes still at my playful words, a dark shadow ghosting even darker eyes. Oh, God, is he having second thoughts? I sure as hell hope not, because if he stops now, I think I might go up in flames and rain down in a bed of ash.

He shakes his head, and his too-long hair falls into his eyes. “I don’t . . . I can’t . . .”

Understanding dawns quickly as his body tightens. He told me he wanted me sexually, but some part of him must think I want more. “Just one night,” I say addressing his worries. “No strings.” I reach for him to pull his mouth back to mine, wanting to feel what’s stirring between his legs again. I touch his body, brush my lips over his, tasting beer from a mouth that had just been between my legs—and wanting it there again, sans panties.

A change comes over him—an animal unleashed—and his lips crash over mine with a ferocity that frightens me as much as it excites me.

His tongue pushes into my mouth, tasting deeply as he presses his solid body over mine, his cock so hard and big against my stomach, I think I won the man lottery. With no effort he pulls me forward, unclasps my bra with an ease I don’t want to think too much about, and drags the material from my body. My breasts are small, not one of my more flattering features, but holy God, the way he’s gazing at me makes me feel like I have the nicest body in the world.

“Perfect,” he murmurs quietly as he runs his palm along the underside of my breast. His touch is soft but his hard calluses caress me roughly. The combination is mind-blowingly delicious, and I’m hooked. He repositions himself between my legs and presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to my stomach as he crawls back up my body. He takes another second to look over my naked flesh, grips my rib cage beneath my breasts, and brushes his thumbs over my nipples.

“These,” he begins, a raw ache of lust in his voice. “The boy likes these, and he needs to spend a whole lot of time with them.” He licks my nipples, a lazy caress that belies the hungry heat in his gaze, then pulls the pebbled nub into his mouth. He cups one breast and kneads it, his hot mouth working magic on the other. He clenches down on my nipple. Hard. So hard, in fact, I feel the pull all the way to my sex.

I tremble from head to toe, run my fingers through his hair, and arch into him. “That feels so good,” I murmur. I push his hair from his face and glance down at him, wanting to watch his mouth on my body. God, not only has his touch turned me into an addict, now I’m a voyeur, too?

I groan in bliss as he greedily takes my other nipple into his mouth and alternates between licking, sucking, and nibbling. Good God, if he keeps it up, I just might climax, and I’ve never climaxed from nipple stimulation before. Then again, I’m doing a lot of things I’ve never done before, all because of this hot man between my legs.

His mouth leaves my breasts and he kisses a path downward, but stops and inhales, like he’s breathing me in, filling his lungs with my scent. He steals another glance up at me, the hungry look in his eyes so potent, air leaves my lungs in a whoosh. I love his rawness, the way his green eyes display his deep-seated need, his lack of inhibitions.

A loud growl rumbles in his throat and he nips at my panties, tugging them lower on my hips. I lift for him, so damn eager he chuckles at my enthusiasm. But it doesn’t make me feel silly. No, it makes me feel sexy and desired. Like I’m finally in the right hands. Everything in this man’s touch makes me feel alive, wanted . . . uninhibited. Truthfully, I might have only had two drinks earlier, but my vision is wobbly, drunk on the man before me. Too bad I only asked for one night. Then again, with a man like him, asking for more could only lead to trouble.

He stands, shimmies my panties to my ankles, and tugs them off. The air around me grows thin as he sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “You are incredible,” he murmurs, his fingers biting into my thighs as he spreads them wider. His eyes simmer with fierceness—a controlled fire—and I’m hyperaware of his power, the wildness he’s working to tame. But I want him wild. I want him to let go and take full possession of me—the way he needs—the way I need.

When have I ever felt such need?

I sit up and press my mouth to his chest. I kiss him, run my tongue over his taut nipples, and his growl urges me on. His hands grip my hair and tug, but I don’t inch back. Instead, I open his pants and slide my hand inside. I stroke his huge cock, dip into the liquid pooling on his crown, and use it for lubrication.

“Jesus fuck,” he growls and I smile. I slide from the seat and go down on my knees in front of him. His hands clench my hair as I tug his jeans down to free his gorgeous cock.

“Mmm,” I whisper and caress the long length of him. “So nice.” I lean into him, and his crown hits the back of my throat. He’s too damn big for me to take all of him in. That’s not going to stop me from trying, though.

His hips jerk forward, and I stretch my jaw to accommodate his girth. My pulse is thumping now, pounding so hard against my neck, it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. Then again, it could be the big cock in my mouth that’s cutting off my air supply. But I don’t care. I take him deeper into my throat and his heated curses curl around me and fill me with hunger.

“Fuck, Kylee,” he growls and I love the way my name sounds on his tongue when he’s lost in lust. My sex tightens with impatience, desperate to be filled, but I don’t want to stop what I’m doing. I want to taste his cum, want him to shoot down my throat, fill me completely. I work my mouth quicker and cup his balls. They tighten into his body and I know he’s close to releasing. I whimper, waiting for him to do just that, but he seems to have other ideas.

He grips my shoulders and pulls me to him. His eyes are inflamed, full of urgent need when they reach mine. He touches my face, my collarbone, my breasts, as his knee slides between my legs. He pulls me down onto his thigh and I ride it, rubbing my wet pussy all over him. His hot fingers, rough and restless, roam my quivering body and leave me burned and branded. He kisses me, fast, fevered . . . filthy . . . and I love every second of it. I’ve always been a good girl, but there is something so delicious naughty—almost taboo—in the way we’re making out in his tattoo shop. How will I ever go back to white-collar after a night with him?

A dark, tortured sound rumbles in his throat, as I rub myself on his thigh. I’ve never been so free before, so blatantly open and needy. God, I’ve always performed with a certain decorum and wouldn’t dare act this way with any of the guys I’ve been with. But not only does Jamie seem to like me like this, he’s encouraging my naughty behavior.

Thank you, Jamie.

“I need to taste you,” he growls and pushes on my shoulders until I’m on the chair again. His nostrils flare as his heated gaze drinks me in. He touches my thigh, grips it hard. “I need my tongue inside you when you come for me.”

Yes, please . . .

His fingers bite into my skin hard enough to leave a bruise as he spreads my legs wide. He bends my knees and pushes on my legs until they’re pressed against my sides. As he opens me to him completely, his eyes meet mine. I take in his dilated pupils surrounded by a dark stormy sea of green.

Breathless, I stare at him, and his hair falls forward as he dips his head, presses his mouth to my sex. Oh, God. My hips rise up to meet his mouth as his tongue sears my aching clit. He draws slow circles around it, stirring the need building inside me. A sound rises from the depths of my throat as I reach out and grip his head. He continues to feast on me, kissing my sex deeply as he plucks at my clit. The dual assault is the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt. Did it get better than this? He pushes a finger inside me as his other hand slides up my body to cup my breast. He strokes my nipple roughly, and I moan. I guess I was wrong. It did get better. His mouth on my clit, a finger inside me, and a hand on my breast—the perfect trifecta. Heat flashes inside me, making me light-headed. Lost in ecstasy, I cry out beneath his invading mouth as he slides a finger in and out of me. I’m so wet and slick, so ready to come apart my body shudders almost violently.

“I want you to come in my mouth,” he whispers from between my legs. “I want your taste on my tongue for the rest of the night, then I’m going to flip you over and ride the fuck out of you.”

His sinful words nearly send me over the edge. Every muscle in my body clenches, my flesh tightening as he traces my clit with his thumb. He grins like he can read my thoughts. Guys like him don’t ask for what they want, they take it, but everything in his expression tells me he’s going to give it as good as he’s getting it. I swallow a moan of excitement.

“Does the girl want that?”

“Yes,” I cry out as he slides another finger inside me, like he knows exactly what it’s going to take to push me over the precipice. Holy hell, I’ve never felt so gloriously full before—so completely done for. A pleasure so intense the room fades in on me races through my body. “Jamie,” I cry out, my sex clenching around his invading fingers. “Yes, Jamie . . . yes . . . just like that. Don’t . . . stop.”

I close my eyes, completely lost in euphoria, and he stays between my legs, lapping at me as I ride out the crashing waves. When I finally stop, he slides up my body, his breath like hot steam on my skin.

He kisses my nipples, then inches back. I reach for him, but he grips my hips, and in a move so fast it takes me by surprise, he flips me over.

“Fuck yeah,” he says and slides a big hot palm over my ass. He gives it a small slap and I yelp. His hand slides up my back and he grips my hair, and he gives a little tug as his other hand slides under my stomach to lift me for him. I lay there, open and vulnerable, my ass in the air. I should be embarrassed by the way he’s displaying me, but I’m not and when I hear his sharp moan, my mind goes blank, wanting only whatever it is he’s going to give me.

I hear a drawer open, then a foil crinkle. Yes, condom! I was so lost in him, I’d almost forgotten. At least one of us has enough wits to think about protection. He repositions me on the seat, drags me lower until his cock is lined up with my sex. He leans over me, adjusting his erection, and slides it along the crevice of my ass. Oh, God, I hope he’s not planning to take me like that. My worries dissolve when he dips his crown into my slick heat, offering me a taste of things to come.

“Yes, Jamie,” I say, and his grip on my hair tightens. “The girl wants your cock.”

He goes still for a second, and then in one thrust enters me, pushing the air from my lungs as he stuffs me wholly. I gasp, and he bucks, hot and slick, moving his hard flesh inside me, a deep penetration that reaches places no man has ever reached before. Rough and rugged, he takes me hard, his cock stretching me wide. I move with him, match each thrust. His hips bang against my ass as he pistons into me, and sensations grip me hard, take hold, own me completely.

A pleasure so intense it almost hurts engulfs me. I’m drowning. Suffocating. Unable to surface as crashing waves keep pulling me under, deeper into the depths of desire. This is too much. He’s too much. I need him to stop almost as much as I need him to continue.

“Jamie,” I cry out, panting, gulping for air, but unable to find any.

He puts his arms around me and pulls me back up to his body. His heart pounds against my back as I keep orgasming around his hard cock. “I’ve got you,” he whispers into my ear, his lips wet against my lobe. True to his word, he secures me against his hard body as I continue to shatter around him, and when the waves finally stop crashing and I’m able to surface for air, he loosens his hold, but doesn’t stop touching me.

What the hell was that?

Jamie Owens.

I’ve always been with safe guys, not bad boys who fuck like wild animals—or maybe it’s just Jamie who fucks like that. I had no idea what I was missing out on. But my thoughts dissolve because he’s rocking into me again, fucking me hard, a brutal pounding that taunts my sex again and almost has me pleading to the gods. He repositions, placing one hand on my hip for leverage, the other on my breast. He’s grunting, groaning, and reaching a frenzied pace that has my clit throbbing double-time. With little finesse he pinches my nipple, and I start coming again. My God, sex with this man is insane. He pulls me up again, his cock still deep inside me as hot lips move to the back of my neck, each labored breath sending heated shivers over my skin.

His fingers go to my clit as he slides almost all the way out, and I move against his hand and rear back, seeking more. Sex with him is too much, yet not near enough. I know that doesn’t make sense, but my body has never burned so deeply before. He shoves into me, spearing me hard, and I groan. A little nudge to my shoulders has me going back down onto my hands and knees. He moves, rocks into me, his body seeking release, each pump designed to take him where he needs to go.

Needing to help him get there and loving the way he’s losing control, I tighten my sex muscles and he growls, throws his head back, and lets go high inside me. Each hard pulse nurtures my orgasm, and my hot release drips down my thighs. His moan, a low desperate needy sound, fills the air, and I shut my eyes against the world, wanting only to exist in this fantasy one, with this man, for just a little bit longer.

Big hands grip my waist and pick me up. He turns me, settles me on the seat, and rests his forehead against mine. I slacken against him as we breathe together for a long time. He places a kiss on my mouth so gentle, so tender, and so deeply intimate, it takes me by surprise.

“The girl is good?” he asks and pulls me to him until our bodies are meshed. “Or does she need something else?”

I slide my arms around his back, and run my hands over his taut muscles. His cock grows against my stomach as I touch him, and I can’t believe he’s ready to go again.

“Hard to say,” I answer. I know we don’t have a future, but we do have tonight, and I plan to take full advantage of that—of him.

He chuckles, and the sound vibrates through me. “Hard indeed,” he murmurs as his lips close over mine.