CHAPTER 13

AS SOON AS THE DOOR closed behind Gigi and the lock clicked home Roman had her pressed against the glass. The cold found her heated skin through the thin layers of her sweater and tank. Her heart didn’t have time to race with anticipation as his lips possessed hers.

She could drown in this feeling—this intensity. No hookup, one nightstand, or friend with benefits had ever given her this kind of high. Would it change after today or would it always be like this? This question cooled the heat in her veins. As his lips moved across her jaw to that spot—the one behind her ear that made her toes curl—that voice of doubt whispered poison words. How long had it taken her parents to lose this feeling?

Gigi pushed down those doubts and pushed Roman away.

“What’s wrong?” He braced his hands against the glass on either side of her head, boxing her in.

“Nothing.” She smiled up at him, carefully masking the turmoil. “You keep this up and we’ll get sweaty before you can make my art permanent.”

“I’ll draw it again.”

“No.” She shook her head, her teeth sinking into the flesh of her bottom lip before she continued. “This drawing is special. It wouldn’t be the same.”

Hadn’t they already hashed this out at her place? Frankly, she’d had enough deep emotional talk for one day. She wanted action. She wanted her ink and when it was done, she wanted to take him in the office the way she’d been fantasizing about all week. She didn’t want to spend another minute being an emotional mess.

Roman pushed off the glass and walked backwards away from her, a crooked grin on his handsome face. “If it matters that much to you, I’ll go set up my station.”

When he turned away, her shoulders sagged in relief. Gigi moved across the space to the front desk. After years of no strings hookups, her first relationship had her on overload. Needing just a few moments of mindless chatter, she pulled out her phone and leaned against the counter, checking her messages. She’d been unplugged since the event started last night. It was bound to be ugly.

No surprise—two missed calls from Dick Pic and more crude text messages with photos.

Dick Pic: Look at all you’re missing tonight.

Text me if you come to your senses.

It accompanied yet another picture of his less than impressive manhood, his date’s manicured hand wrapped around the base as if that was supposed to entice her. Did she know he was sending a picture like this to another woman? Probably not. The man was a disgusting pig and at this rate, maybe a little stalkerish.

To be safe, she saved the voicemail recordings and sext messages with the others he’d sent. It was time to consider getting a restraining order. She hated to shine a spotlight on her own behavior but if this continued, she wouldn’t have any other choice. For once, she was glad she’d neglected to block Chad. If she had, she’d have no physical evidence and with his access to her through her father, blocking him might not have stopped him.

The big surprise was who hadn’t messaged her—Ann. Gigi expected her to be livid. Either Ann was cutting her a break because she’d been so drunk last night or she was planning to ambush her tomorrow, maybe both. Gigi sighed and pushed the mess away. Either it would be okay or it wouldn’t. Whatever the outcome, she was not giving Roman up. Ann wanted her to settle down. She got it. Now she’d have to deal with the fact that it was her brother that tamed Gigi.

“I’m ready for you.” Roman’s voice cut through her thoughts, sending a shiver of desire coursing through her like an electric current.

Gigi left her phone on the desk and joined him at his workstation. He’d reclined the retrofitted antique barber chair, most likely for his access and her comfort. Before she sat, she folded up the bottom hem of her tank top, baring her midriff, and folded down the waistband of her yoga pants to uncover the drawing that started as post-coital flirtation.

She slid into the seat and fussed with her clothing until she was satisfied with his access.

“Black and white or color?”

“Color and be liberal with the pink.”

Roman chuckled. “I might have been disappointed if that wasn’t your answer.”

“Ask a silly question…”

“You’ll get a silly answer,” he finished. “You’ve seen me do this but now that you’re on the other side it’s different. The first thing I’m going to do is the outline. If you need me to stop at any time, let me know and I will. I work from the top down. When the lines are in, we’ll take a break unless you need one sooner.”

As Roman went through his spiel, he laid out little plastic caps that reminded her of tiny thimbles—probably because she was about to be a pincushion in the name of art. He filled each cap with black ink.

“Okay.” She twisted her hands together in her lap.

What do you do with your hands while someone is dragging a needle through your skin?

Roman wrapped one large hand, now covered in black latex gloves, over her fidgeting hands. His other hand held the tattoo machine at the ready. “It’s not too late to call this off.”

Of course, he would give her the chance to bow out of this. Beneath that tattooed tough guy exterior beat the heart of a gentleman. They were like a mythical fucking unicorn and she had actually found one. Her. The girl who slept around because she couldn’t trust a man not to hurt her.

He stared into her eyes. His eyes that reminded her of a low burning flame with their amber glow that seemed to see so much of her. The black frames of his reading glasses slid down his nose making his heated look that much sexier.

“It’s going to hurt, Gigi. Sometimes beautiful things hurt.” His voice was low and rumbled across her skin like a physical caress, soothing her with its quiet intensity.

“Are we still talking about the ink?” So much angst between them today. It was like living in an episode of One Tree Hill or maybe Miami Ink was a better comparison. Those reality shows on TLC were full of that crap.

One dark eyebrow arched up as he watched her over the top of his frames. He could see her mind wandering as she fought to process this new intimacy where he seemed to know the subtext of all her words. “I don’t know. Are we?”

Silence hung between them. He just waited, drawing the silence out. Alone as they were, no one would step in and save her from breaking. She turned her face away, focusing on the cars passing by the shop window. The sinners, having absolved themselves from last night’s debauchery, were leaving church now right alongside the righteous few who had no idea. Her phone pinged in the silence like a horn from god bringing down her walls.

Gigi looked back at Roman. He’d sat still as a statue, waiting on her. “I want to hurt where I can see it.” There, it was out and damn him for making her say it.

She was ready for love. With him. She was ready to feel this even if it hurt her. She took a deep cleansing breath. “Do it. I’m ready.” And she was talking about more than just the ink.

She expected him to chase her confession with the same tenacity he’d been displaying off and on all morning. His expression betrayed nothing. He wore the same stoic optimism—a half smile that was somehow serious and irreverent at one—that she thought of as his neutral setting. Instead, the machine in his hand buzzed to life. The mechanical hum filled the silence surrounding them. He released his grip on her hands and arranged them out of his way.

Gigi held her breath and closed her eyes as the needle touched her skin. Her eyes flew open and widened with the dull burn as the needle moved across her skin and she breathed with it. The first moments were agony. Then so gradually that she wasn’t sure when it happened, the pain changed. It became something good, something that brought her clarity. It allowed her to drift on the white noise humming from the tattoo gun and see patterns she’d been missing.

Roman pushed her to open up. With each conversation, he held onto the chase until she broke and gave him a little more than she had before, but he wasn’t running hot and cold. He was giving her space. Allowing her to process her feelings and accept them before moving in for another painstaking inch. Sneaky bastard. She already loved him more.

Leaving his mark on her skin was more satisfying than Roman imagined it would be. Something about Gigi brought out that caveman need to possess her. For her part, Gigi sat perfectly still and detached. For the first few minutes, he could see the pain in her tight expression. Then the creases in her brow smoothed out and she smiled. Her green eyes were open and fixed across the room. He worried at first but she chatted readily enough when prompted, so he let her zone out.

Now he turned his machine off, sat it on his workbench, and turned to smooth cocoa butter into her angry skin. A soft smile played at the corners of her lips as she looked down at her ink.

“Do you want to get a better look at it in the mirror?”

Gigi’s smile brightened as she slid out of the chair, standing on wobbly legs. She reached out and steadied herself with a hand on his shoulder. She giggled softly. “Sitting still for so long takes more out of you then you think.”

After hours of touching her with a black latex barrier between them, he pulled the offending gloves off his hands and tossed them into the trash. “That was a quick one. I finished your art in under two hours. Most of the work I get takes four hours or more. Imagine sitting that long.”

“I can actually. This wasn’t as bad as I feared it would be.” She released his shoulder and traipsed to the back of the shop and the mirror outside the office door.

Roman followed, feeling a little like a starving animal stalking its next meal—or in his case, his next hit of Gigi. Holding off sex with her for the week they’d been dating hadn’t just been about her. It had been about insulating himself from the impending addiction to her. Pleasuring her while denying himself had been an attempt at building some kind of resistance—an inoculation—and a chance to make sure when he did have her, it wasn’t going to be just a one-shot deal. One thing was certain, he was going to need her and often. He needed her already.

Leaning against the wall, Roman crossed his arms over his chest and watched her. She stood in front of his mirror ghosting her fingers around the heart that stood out vividly on her ivory skin. Her green eyes fixed on the reflection of her art. He moved toward her, unnoticed until he combed his fingers through the soft tendrils of her dark hair, sweeping it to the side and out of his way.

His lips grazed the column of her neck and his fingers closed over her shoulders, drawing her small frame back into his hard body. “It’s good work, but it’s not as beautiful as the canvas it’s on.”

She sighed and relaxed into him. “It’s perfect.”

Roman slid her sweater down her arms as he kissed a path from her neck to her shoulder. He let it drop to the floor. Both of his hands slid around her waist and up her ribs, cupping the underside of her breasts.

“I’ve been touching you for two hours, Gigi.” To his own ears, his voice was a gruff bass made coarse by his desperation. “Two long hours where I had to focus on the machine in my hand and color in your skin when all I wanted to think about was all the ways I could have you.”

She shivered against him, drawing a groan from his lips as her ass rubbed against his cock. The barrier of their clothes making it just the right side of painful. He walked her forward towards the glass until her body pressed against it.

“Roman…” Her voice was breathy, fogging the mirror.

“No one can see us back here, beautiful.” Roman’s hands moved down as he spoke, sliding under the lowered waistband of her yoga pants, forcing them down further. “You’re like a drug. One hit this morning only whet my appetite. I need more.”

Encouraged by the catch in her breath and the way she pressed herself back into his touch as his hand stilled over her lace-covered ass cheek, he knelt behind her. “Tell me I can have another taste. I need you to say it.”

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and with a trembling voice she whispered, “Please, Roman—anyway you want me.”

The reflection of her green eyes blazed bright, as if lit with fairy lights as she watched him push her yoga pants down her toned legs, leaving her panties in place. She stepped out of the fabric pooled at her feet and spread her legs further apart. His hands stroked up her thighs. Her own hands pushed up her tank top and unhooked her bra. Both dropped to the floor, freeing her breasts. The pink tips of her beaded nipples kissed the mirror’s surface as she kneaded her supple flesh. Her eyes stayed locked on his as she played with them.

His naughty girl. It set his blood on fire when she did something so bold. His cock throbbed painfully against the zipper of his jeans. But it wouldn’t distract him from what he wanted.

Roman caressed her thighs with one hand. With the other, he hooked a finger under the edge of her panties and pulled them to the side. He licked the hot seam of her pussy. He lingered there, lavishing attention on her silky folds until her thighs trembled. Then he circled her clit. The gasp that escaped her lips told him she was close already.

He eased two fingers into her, fucking her slowly as he suckled at the center of her pleasure.

The walls of her pussy pulsed around his fingers as they pumped in and out of her. She ground her pussy into him and he groaned against her. Her own moan following his in answer. He pressed his tongue flat against her clit, circling the tiny bud with firm strokes as she whimpered and braced herself against the mirror.

“

Oh god please—please come up here and fuck me.” The strained plea was enough of a command for him.

Roman eased his fingers from her body and stood, keeping one hand at the small of her back to hold her pinned against the mirror. With his other hand, he pulled a condom from his pocket and eased down the zipper of his jeans. H

e ripped the package open with his teeth before pulling out the condom and rolling it down his hard length.

Burying his hand in the messy waves of her hair, he kissed the back of her neck. A sweet, tender kiss. A kiss that promised everything he felt for her. “Last night, with a gallery full of people, all I wanted was to take you against this mirror.” He ran the head of his cock against her wet opening as he confessed his fantasy, whispering the words against her neck. “I could imagine it so clearly all night.”

He watched as she squeezed her breast firmly in her hand, her fingers drawing out the nipple and rolling it. Reaching around, he covered her hand with his own.

“

Please, I need you now,” she begged. “If you’re going to say shit like that and make me want you this bad, you can’t make me wait.”

He groaned into her neck. “You used profanity—this must make you crazy for your tongue to slip. Do you even know how sexy you are? Do you know what you do to me?” Roman gave up teasing and pushed himself inside of her, his thrust pressing her hard up against the mirror, making her gasp. “Is that better, beautiful?”

“Yes!” she cried out, slapping the flat of her hand against the glass. Her voice was a breathless murmur as she continued. “I want to drive you crazy, the way you make me. All day I watch you, aching for you.”

He rocked in and out of her, his crazy matching hers, thrust for thrust. This was not the slow, casual pace they’d set this morning in her bed. This was frantic. This was intense. The rhythmic beat of his flesh smacking against hers filled the silent void left when his tattoo machine had been turned off.

“Touch yourself, Gigi. Let me see it.”

She reached down, sliding her hand down her flat stomach to her slick mound while the other hand braced against the mirror he was driving her up against with each thrust. When her fingers found her clit, a full shiver wracked her body. Her breath caught in her throat as her fingers danced over the center of her pleasure.

“That’s right. Come for me and I’ll follow.” His voice was a husky command.

He was so close—so damn close—watching her touch her own body had him on a knife’s edge. He just needed her to go over so he could follow. He gritted his teeth, determined to hold out for as long as it took. For her—anything for her.

Then her hand stilled, pressing down and she cried out. Her body shook, her sex pulsing around him, gripping him tight. He wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her to him as her legs went limp, succumbing to a well-fucked boneless lethargy. He let go of the stranglehold he’d had on his own urges. The pleasure rocketed through him, a torrent of every pent-up feeling, and caged desire, spilling from him with his seed.

Still half-dressed and buried inside her naked body, he lowered them both to the floor before they fell. She turned in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Her head dropped to his shoulder and she sighed. “I am so keeping you.”

Roman laughed. He loved this woman. Really loved her in a way he hadn’t allowed himself even with his ex. He’d only known Gigi a few short weeks and she’d managed to get inside of him with every secret smile. She made him willing to take a chance again with every new inch she opened up to him. She was worth this pursuit.