CW

by Leolucasdaddy

Their body art is hot. Their chemistry is even hotter. (g!p)

16. 15

JENNIE

..

I was starving. And not for food. Deprived of human connection and physical contact, I had been wasting away. Until Lisa kissed me. That changed everything. It was akin to being denied the buffet and given an appetizer as a consolation prize. It wasn't even close to enough. I wanted more of her.

Every sociology course I'd taken as an undergraduate had brought me to the same conclusion: human beings craved emotional attachment. What I hadn't realized was just how deep that need ran and how the right person could make all the difference.

In the past ten months every true connection I'd had was severed. It was like having pieces of my heart gouged out until it became Swiss cheese. In the first few months after the crash I hadn't been able to handle any affection. Once I was released from the hospital into Chan's care, it got infinitely worse. He was as warm and fuzzy as a dead porcupine.

Any physical contact after that had been limited to sympathy hugs and prodding from doctors. Since moving to Chicago it had dwindled to the occasional affectionate squeeze from Cassie. I could count on one hand how many times that had happened. Then there were the myriad of piercings I'd asked Rosé to put in my body. None of those had felt particularly pleasant, although the pain was nothing compared to what I'd already endured.

But the brief contact from Lisa in the form of fleeting touches and kisses on the cheek had awakened feelings that bulldozed over my attempt at isolation and solitude. After being in her chair for an hour with her hands on me, even with the facade of professional detachment, I was covetous for more. I didn't realize how ravenous I'd been until after the tattoo session.

It made me reckless and impulsive.

I hadn't meant for it to happen, but it had been so long since I'd been touched in any capacity outside of consolation or medical intervention. Lisa's touch both calmed and warmed me. I was tired of fighting my attraction to her. So I made a bad decision. I gave in to it.

The last time I was kissed was when Kai told me he needed to use the restroom on the plane. The one in first class was occupied, so he went to coach. It was just a peck on the cheek. I never saw him alive again.

Even if my last kiss from Kai had been memorable, I could say with absolute certainty that no kiss from him compared to the one I shared with Lisa. It was like setting off an atomic bomb of desire. It wiped out everything but her.

I thought I understood physical attraction, but in the wake of the unbound longing Lisa inspired in one kiss, I began to see how naïve I'd been. While I loved Kai and always would, he never held a fraction of the allure Lisa did. I didn't know what to do with the overwhelming need for more of her.

Facing Lisa after tonight wasn't going to be pleasant. Beyond the mortification of rejection, which I hoped I could handle, I was terrified she would reconsider being my tattooist. I needed it to be her. She was broken, too, maybe not as badly as me, but she understood loss. It was reflected in the art she wore on her body, in her reluctance to put the design on me without knowing why I wanted it. The tattoo was my absolution, and I trusted Lisa to make it happen. It was about more than body art, though; pretending otherwise was a lie. I wanted her touch and the closeness that came with it. I craved the connection I'd found with her, even if I shouldn't.

I dealt with the situation by not dealing with it. I went through the motions, got up in the morning, attended school, worked through more revisions for my jerk of an advisor, taught classes and marked papers, went to work.

Hiding things from Cassie was a challenge. She was perceptive and nurturing. She made me want to tell her everything, but I couldn't. She was too close to Lisa to be safe.

Above all else, I evaded Lisa. I was embarrassed by the way I'd thrown myself at her. Regardless of the rejection, I was also terrified I would do it again. She stopped by more than once the following evening, and each time I would disappear. At one point Cassie sent her down to the basement, where I was sorting new acquisitions. I hid inside an old wardrobe. I came upstairs a while later to find Cassie organizing trinkets on a shelf.

"Any particular reason you're avoiding Lisa?" she asked.

Normally she wasn't so up-front. She picked up one of the fragile figurines and dusted it off.

"I'm not avoiding her."

"Really? She's been in here three times today, she's testy and she keeps asking for you, but you always seem to vanish the second she comes in the door. Twenty minutes ago I sent her downstairs to find you, and she told me you weren't there."

"It's complicated."

Cassie laughed and set the figurine back on the shelf. "Oh honey, everything about Lisa is complicated."

I sighed. "I'm fully aware."

"Is it about the tattoo?" she asked, her concern genuine.

"Yes and no. That's part of it."

When I didn't offer any more information, Cassie sighed. "I'm not sure which one of you is worse. I don't think I've met two more secretive people in my life. Look, whatever is going on between you is your business, but I'll be honest—I've never seen Lisa so wrapped up in anything besides her art."

I didn't know what to say to that.

Cassie gave me a sad smile. "I'm not going to pretend I know your story, Jennie, but I do know Lisa carries around her past with her and it's a burden she can't unload. Be patient with her. Whatever the problem is, it's clear she wants to set it right."

"I just need some time to figure things out," I said.

"Fair enough. Did you need me to relay that message?"

"If you think it would help."

..

On Tuesday, Nate picked Cassie up early, so I was on my own for the last few hours of the night. Lisa didn't stop in, giving me the reprieve I asked for, even though I wasn't sure it was what I wanted. The hours until closing seemed endless. I watched the door, waiting for Lisa's patience to give out. It didn't. I could see Eunwoo and Jackson through the window, working on clients. Lisa and Rosé were nowhere to be found.

After locking up, I went straight home and changed into comfy clothes so I wouldn't give in to the urge to go over to Inked Armor. The kitten gave a groggy little mew when I tossed my shirt and bra on the bed and pulled on my favorite hoodie.

"Hi, baby girl." I gave her a little scratch under the chin and she started to purr. "Did you have a good day? Are you hungry?" I made a quick trip to the kitchen for her milk. As an afterthought, I grabbed a few articles, some highlighters and a pen so I could work on my thesis while I hung out with her in my bedroom. It seemed to be her favorite place to sleep. When she had enough milk, she snuggled into me, her wet nose tickling my neck. I settled back against the pillows, stroking her soft fur as I read and scribbled notes in the margins.

I was on the last page when a knock at the door startled me. I tossed the article onto the nightstand, capped the pen and settled the kitten back on the bed where I'd found her, glad Jisoo was home early. She always had an answer when it came to things like this, usually accompanied by a dose of cynicism. I turned the dead bolt but forgot about the chain latch above. In the narrow gap stood not Jisoo but Lisa, holding a six-pack of beer and a bag.

I didn't want to be happy to see her. "How did you get up here?"

She dangled a key and quickly jammed it in her pocket. "Helps when you know the landlady." She ran a finger along the chain barring her entrance. "Can I come in?"

I unlocked the chain latch but stood in the doorway, keeping her in the hall. "What's up?"

"You're not going to let me in?"

"Why should I? So you can get me all hot and bothered, only to leave all over again?" I couldn't believe I said that.

"I got you hot?" Lisa asked, looking rather pleased.

I tried to shut the door, but her arm shot through the gap.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I just want to talk."

"Last time you just wanted cupcakes."

She latched onto the inside of the doorframe. "Please? Come on, Jennie, I promise I'll be on my best behavior."

"Fine. Whatever." My anger masked my embarrassment as I recalled what Lisa's not-so-good behavior felt like. I couldn't avoid her forever. Not if I still wanted her as my artist. Better to deal with the situation on my turf than her. The art was secondary, though. I needed her proximity more than I needed the tattoo. Not that I would tell her. I opened the door and moved aside to let her in.

"Nice outfit." Her eyes traveled down and stopped below my knees. "Are those leg warmers?"

"Do you have a problem with them?" I asked, nervous now that the door no longer created a barrier of safety. I had no idea how to approach this.

"Not at all, but you probably wouldn't need them if you were a little more covered up."

I was wearing shorts. The leg warmers covered my calves. "Is my artless skin offensive?"

"Hardly. My life would be a lot easier if that was the case."

"Why are you here? Other than to comment on my choice of sleepwear."

"That's what you wear to bed?"

"Why would what I wear to bed matter to you?"

She tapped her temple. "It helps with the . . . never mind. I brought some stuff for TK, and I thought maybe we could have a beer or something."

"TK?"

"The Kitten."

She walked around me, put the beer on the counter, and emptied the contents of the bag. There were treats, kitten milk, and a bunch of toys. Lisa sorted the toys and treats into neat piles. She was thoughtful, which frustrated me more.

I walked around the breakfast bar, putting the counter between us. I needed the distance. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know." She slid a beer across the counter toward me. When I reluctantly took the bottle, she twisted off the cap. I tipped it back, swallowed, and waited.

"You avoided me yesterday."

She was right. I didn't respond.

"And you didn't come by the shop today like you were supposed to."

"And you're surprised because—"

"I don't know why Rosé thought I could do this. I really suck at this shit," she said, more to herself than to me. "Look, I should be sorry about what happened the last time I was here, but I'm not, and that's a problem."

That was not at all what I expected to hear. "I'm not quite following."

She shifted, looking uncomfortable. "We have this rule at the shop, and it's pretty much the only one I ever try to follow. I don't sleep with clients."

I couldn't imagine Lisa sleeping with anyone. I could imagine her doing other things, though. Inside I was flipping out at her inference. The way Lisa was talking, it sounded like she wanted to take it a lot further than the kiss. She was standing in the exact same place she'd been in two nights ago. Except I was on the wrong side of the counter, which made the speculation impossible to confirm.

"Last time I checked, making out isn't quite the same thing," I said, maintaining a neutral expression.

"Sorry. Let me clarify. I don't fuck around with clients."

"What constitutes 'fucking around'?"

Lisa's lip twitched. "What happened when I was here last constitutes fucking around."

"Right." I took another sip. I was pushing her on purpose; because I was hurt, because I wanted more and she was telling me in no uncertain terms I couldn't have her. My natural inclination was to find a way around it. What she offered was so much more than just ink on my skin and the solace of her touch. "So just to make sure I'm completely clear about this, kissing and groping are facets of fucking around."

"Can you stop saying that?"

"Stop saying what?"

"Fucking around."

"Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?" I asked.

"No."

I swore I could hear her teeth grit together. Antagonizing her wasn't helpful. I could see the issue in getting physically involved with a client, but I doubted Lisa made house calls to other clients or bought their pets toys and treats. She was usually so controlled that breaking some arbitrary rule over me seemed significant.

"Then what's the problem?" I asked.

"Nothing. Never mind. Say fucking around as much as you want."

"Would you like to explain the parameters of fucking around? Just so I know."

Her tongue ring appeared between her lips and slid back and forth. She did that a lot around me.

"Just like you said, kissing, groping, anything that would lead to you being naked and underneath me."

I almost choked on my beer, but I recovered quickly, not wanting to give her the upper hand. "Got it. Because me naked under you would be a bad thing."

"Very bad," Lisa agreed. She didn't launch herself over the counter, but it looked like she wanted to.

"And if I wasn't your client?"

"But you are."

"But if I wasn't?"

Lisa stalked around the counter and stood over me. "I am your tattooist. No one else is putting that design on you."

"Territorial much?"

Her nostrils flared. "Yes."

"Are you this possessive about all your work?"

"No, just yours."

The admission pleased me. "What happens when you finish the tattoo?"

Lisa's lips curled up into a treacherous smile. "The rule doesn't apply anymore."

"And what's the time line on that look like?"

"Best-case scenario? Two months at the very least."

Two months would feel like an eternity. I wondered if Lisa would be able to follow her own rule for two months. I wondered if I would. Especially with her standing over me, close enough to touch, looking at me the way she was.

While the tattoo would give me some of what I craved in the form of her company, it wouldn't be enough. Not now that I had the memory of her mouth. I didn't want to be without it for that long. It was about more than the physical connection, even though I was reluctant to acknowledge it.

That unfamiliar longing she incited welled up again, taking over, drowning out reason and logic. Lisa wanted me in the same way I wanted her. Her previous actions and our current discussion proved that. In my previous life I might have backed down. But I'd spent enough time playing by rules I didn't like. Lisa tapped into the part of me that wanted to push the boundaries as far as I could, repercussions be damned. "Just so you're aware, I think your rule is stupid."

"You wouldn't if you knew why we made it in the first place. And don't ask, because I'm not telling you."

I had a feeling I might not want to know anyway. Lisa finished her beer and twisted the top off another. "You ready?"

"I'm good." I held up my half-finished one.

She grabbed the rest of the six-pack and crossed over to the fridge. Opening the door, she froze. "You have no food."

"I need to get groceries," I said, stating the obvious.

"Jennie, if you don't eat properly, your tattoo will take longer to heal and we'll have to space the sessions further apart."

"I'll go tomorrow."

"Or we could go now."

"As you noticed, I'm not dressed for grocery shopping. Besides, it's after ten. Nothing's open."

Lisa gave me an incredulous look. "We're in Chicago—there are twenty-four-hour stores all over the place."

"Oh." In Arden Hills stores closed at normal times. I still had no intention of leaving my apartment tonight. Not now that Lisa was here, and especially not after our conversation.

"You could change, unless you want to look like you're auditioning for Flashdance."

"Aren't you hilarious." I gathered up some of the toys she bought. "I'd rather stay here and play with my kitty."

I left her standing there and headed for my bedroom. "She's in here," I said and disappeared through the doorway.

The kitten was right where I left her, curled up on my pillow. I shoved the bra and shirt I forgot to put in the hamper under a pillow as Lisa leaned against the doorjamb and surveyed my room. She looked wary, like she didn't trust my motives. She was smart. I didn't trust them, either. The heightened awareness her presence created was difficult to ignore. The only other person who had been in my room was Jisoo, and as beautiful as she was, I wasn't interested in cozying up to her. I dropped the toys on the bed and the kitten lifted her head, blinking sleepily.

"Hi, cutie pie, Lisa brought you some presents." I scratched between her ears and she rolled over, showing me her belly.

In her excitement, she fell off the pillow and tumbled into the pile of toys. For the next several minutes she pounced around on my comforter, chasing after little balls with bells in them and swatting at catnip mice. I tossed one at Lisa, who was still holding up the doorframe. It hit her in the chest and dropped to the floor. The kitten's little head bobbed as she gauged the distance and jumped down, skidding across the hardwood. Lisa snatched her up when she got close enough and whispered something I couldn't hear. She set her down gently and flicked the mouse at her feet into the hallway. She skittered away, mewing loudly.

"Why don't you come back out here?" Lisa nodded in the direction of the living room.

Before I considered my actions, I slid off the bed and hooked my thumb in the waistband of my sweat shorts. "Did you want to see how my cupcake is healing, first?"

She didn't answer right away. Instead she looked over at the chair in the corner of my room, covered with scarves and other accessories, and then back at the bed.

"I could do that." She sauntered over to my dresser, where she deposited her beer.

She gave me a predatory glare as she sat on the edge of the mattress and ran her palms over her thighs. I nudged her legs apart with my knee and stepped between them. Her hands stilled as I pushed my shorts down over my hips; I cringed. I'd forgotten about my poor underwear choice; they were horrifically juvenile. Made of white cotton, they boasted a kitty paw print pattern and red piping at the seams. At least I wasn't wearing the matching bra anymore.

"For fuck's sake." Lisa pushed my hands out of the way.

She took over, rolling down the waistband to fully expose the humiliating underwear, her tongue ring clicking furiously. She cleared her throat and hooked her finger under the elastic, drawing it down over the small gauze patch.

"This should have come off yesterday."

"Sorry." I started to peel away the tape, but she smacked my hand.

"Don't touch. I get to do that."

Fingers sliding back and forth, she slowly shimmied my underwear below the bandage. If she lowered them farther, she'd be looking at more than my tattoo. She peeled the gauze back and removed it carefully. Folding it in half, she placed it on the comforter and circled the design with her finger. I wanted more of her touch, the desire acute now that I couldn't have it.

"How does it look?" I asked, head bowed. My hair fell forward and caressed her hand. I gathered it up so it wouldn't impede her view.

"Fantastic."

Her hands were wrapped around my hips, thumbs sinfully close to the crest of my pubic bone. This was the kind of touch I wanted. I willed her fingers to drift lower and take away the ache, at least temporarily. "It's healing well? Does that mean we can keep the appointment for next week?"

"Yeah." She licked her bottom lip as she continued to inspect the tattoo.

For someone who felt obligated to abide by a rule, she wasn't in a hurry to cover my new ink back up. In fact, she seemed inclined to do the opposite.

Her hair was in her face again. I ran my fingers through it, pushing it back off her forehead. As terrifying as it was, I wanted to be closer to her. "About that rule . . ."

Lisa's hands stilled. "What about it?"

"Can you explain it to me again, just so I understand?" I watched the strands of dark hair slip between my fingers, unable to look at her, lest I lost my nerve. When it returned to its same unruly state, I ran my fingers through it again.

"No sex with clients."

"While you're tattooing them?"

"Right."

"What if you haven't started yet?" We had a week before she began the back piece. The possibility that I could quell the ravenous hunger for her held too much appeal for me not to step over the line she wanted to draw.

"Are you giving me a loophole?" Her hold tightened.

"Do you want one?" I already knew the answer, but I wanted her to admit it so I wasn't alone in my need.

Too soon she would be completely off-limits; it made me desperate for more of what I knew she could give me. I didn't want to be told I couldn't have this person I wanted, not after having nothing for so long.

"It's not a good idea, Jennie."

"That's not an answer, Lisa." I traced the contour of her bottom lip.

She closed her eyes. I thought she was going to push me away, but then her shoulders sagged in defeat. She bowed forward, her forehead coming to rest on my lower abdomen. I could feel each humid exhalation with every measured breath she took, and my body warmed in anticipation. She shook her head back and forth against my stomach, a contradiction to the way her hands moved over my ribs and around my back, holding me to her. She lifted her head, her chin coming to rest below my navel.

I touched her cheek. "It's okay to want someone," I said, as much to myself as to Lisa.

"Who do you want to convince?"

I didn't have a chance to answer, though. Lisa lowered her head and pressed her lips to my skin. Her hand traveled down my spine to my backside and squeezed. One second I was standing between her legs, the next I was laid out on my bed.

She didn't waste any time. Her nose skimmed just above my pubic bone and her lips parted. The warm, wet press of her tongue was a stark contrast to the hard heat of the steel ball piercing through it. I gasped when I felt her teeth.

Lisa dragged my shorts down my thighs and tossed them over the side of the bed. "These." She snapped the elastic waist of my underwear. "How the hell am I supposed to keep myself in check when you wear these?"

"It wasn't intentional," I rasped.

"Bull-fucking-shit." She hooked her pinkies in either side and removed them, slowly. "You lured me in here."

"I'm sorry." I almost meant it.

"You might be when I'm done with you."

My panties ended up on the floor with my shorts, leaving me naked from the waist down. I started to close my legs, but Lisa's hands moved down the insides of my thighs, pushing them wider apart. Her mouth followed the same path, teeth nipping along the way, driving me to the brink as she took her time getting where I wanted her. I writhed beneath her, too lost in erotic sensation to be self-conscious. Her grin was wicked when she looked up from between my legs, tongue splayed as she licked up the center. Strong hands slid under me. She held me against her mouth, and that tiny steel ball circled sensitive skin. When I shuddered, she chuckled darkly and sucked hard.

She slowed down when I was close to an orgasm, her fingers feather light, her tongue just shy of where it would be most effective. When the driving sensation waned, she started up again, taking me back to the edge, over and over. I groaned, desperate for release.

"You sound frustrated," Lisa said, giving me a lazy lick.

I lifted my hips, a silent plea for her to finish me, one way or another. She rested her cheek on my inner thigh and her arms hooked around my legs, holding me in place. It was the sweetest agony and nothing I'd ever experienced before. The intimacy of it blanketed out everything but her.

"I'm sorry." She pressed a kiss below the new tattoo, admiring her own handiwork. "I'm not sure what it is you want."

"Please, Lisa." I pushed her hair back from her face, playing nice.

"Please what?"

I made an impatient sound in the back of my throat and tried to close my legs again, but she wouldn't let me. As seductively intense as she could be, she was being a tease. It was infuriating and exhilarating.

"Just tell me what you want from me, Jennie."

I looked down at her, so placid and collected. How she maintained such composure when I was losing my mind was a wonder. She might be struggling as much as I was, but she was better at keeping a front. How naïve of me to believe I'd ever had the upper hand.

"Right now I want you to make me come," I whispered.

"With what?" Her thumb brushed over my clit.

I arched into the touch. "Your mouth."

"And then what?"

"After that I want you inside me."

"What part of me?" She dragged a knuckle down and circled my entrance before slipping a finger inside.

"Your cock." It came out a nearly unintelligible moan.

It must have been what she wanted to hear, because her mouth was on me almost instantly. Her fingers moved in time with her tongue, curling up and in, finally providing the release I so desperately wanted.

Lethal in her feral beauty, Lisa prowled up my body, dropping languorous kisses along the way. I grabbed the hem of my shirt, but Lisa stopped me, intent on removing it herself. She lifted it over my head and paused. There was no bra.

"God, you're sexy." All traces of menace were wiped out as she cupped my breasts and drew careful circles around my nipples. "And these . . ." She bent her head, her lips replacing her finger.

"Okay?" she asked.

I nodded mutely and she watched me, testing my response as her lips parted, enveloping the taut skin. The smooth ball in her tongue completed a slow circuit, clicking dully against the barbell. It was almost too much.

"Are you sorry now?" she asked, and applied the gentlest of suction.

I groaned at the pleasure-pain and shook my head. "No. Should I be?"

"That depends." She kissed her way across the valley to devote the same attention to the other breast. I grasped her hair as she licked at my nipple and blew on it. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Definitely not." It was questionable whether she would agree to anything like this again. I doubted she lost control often. I pushed aside the fear of what might happen in the aftermath and pulled her shirt over her head so I could see her.

Vibrant color gave way to solid black lines. My fingers drifted over the ink. I could see now the rest of the colorful design on her arm, the orange fish splashing up a stream heavy with blossoms, half wilted, half alive. I traced the black lines on her chest and finally understood the pattern. It was a phoenix, the thick bands of ink traveling across her body and down into the waistband of her jeans. I could have spent hours uncovering her art, looking for the meaning in the pieces she chose to cover her skin.

"You're gorgeous."

She shook her head and settled between my legs, her belt buckle a cold shock against my stomach. Her chest came flush with mine. The solid weight of her body grounded me in the present and kept me from falling backward into memories I didn't want anymore. She was all that existed in this moment.

She framed my face between her hands, her touch soft, her expression severe. "Just this one time. Just once. Then not again until the tattoo is done. It's too complicated."

I couldn't see how her restrictions would make things less difficult, but I would take whatever she was offering. It was better than the alternative. "If that's what you want."

"What I want?" She circled he hips, her erection insistent against me. "What I want is for you to stop being so fucking reticent and tell my why you want that monster of a tattoo."

Lisa was just as taciturn, but I didn't think it would be a good time to point that out.

"What I want is to know why the fuck I can't get you out of my head." She sat back on her heels, unbuckled her belt, and popped the button on her jeans. "What I want—" She pulled them down over her hips; there were no boxers. "—is to figure out why I have no control when it comes to you."

Her erection sprang free. I swallowed hard. In my rather narrow field of experience, I had never seen anything quite so impressive. Fascinated, I reached out and ran a tentative finger from base to tip, circling the thick steel ball piercing the head. It jerked at the contact. I propped myself up on my elbow, taking her in my hand. Lisa grunted out an expletive.

"What's it called?" I asked when I realized the barbell ran straight through the head, in one side and out the other.

"What?" Lisa's hips shifted forward.

"The piercing, what's it called?"

"Apadravya."

I repeated it, testing out the word. "It must have hurt." I circled the ball with my thumb.

"At the time, but it feels fucking amazing right now." She fumbled with her discarded jeans, and her wallet came free as I continued to stroke her. Flipping it open, she lifted a trio of gold foil squares from inside. Using her teeth, she severed one from its brothers and tore it open. Her hand covered mine, and she gently pried my fingers away. I didn't offer to help, too enthralled with the way the latex stretched over the piercing. She rolled it swiftly down her length. Like she'd done it before. Many times.

Lisa leaned over me, her hips resting in the cradle of mine, hard against soft this time. "Last chance to back out, Jennie."

I dragged a foot up the back of her leg, pressing my heel against her ass.

Her mouth came down on mine. The steel rings bit into my skin as her tongue pushed past my lips, eagerly seeking out my own. She snaked a hand between us and I felt the thick head of her erection pass over my clit and go lower until she was easing inside. Her forehead dropped against my shoulder and she turned her face into my neck. The barbell passed the threshold, first one side, then the other. It slid along sensitive places inside me. It didn't matter that I'd already had an orgasm, or that she tried to ready me for her; I wasn't prepared for the sheer girth. My body stretched to accommodate her, the sharp sting an indication I was filled beyond capacity. My knees clamped against her hips.

Lisa's head snapped up. "Jennie?" Frantic fingers were in my hair. "Are you okay?"

I nodded and held on to the back of her neck, wanting to keep her close. "Just give me a second. You're a lot to handle."

She waited until I urged her on, her breathing controlled. I matched mine to hers, relaxing into her when she pushed forward again, until our hips met. We stayed like that for an interminable moment. I focused on the smell of her skin and the feel of her inside me, wanting this connection to wipe out everything that came before it. She took away the pain, consuming it and me. She kissed me again, slow and soft this time, circling her hips but staying deep. The sensation was indescribable, overwhelming but not quite enough. I didn't want it to end.

Lisa let out a rough curse, hips pulling back and surging forward. "I'm not . . . I can't . . . You feel too fucking good."

When I shifted under her, she made a pained sound and her muscles trembled.

"Just wait," she said.

It verged on a plea. I ran a hand down her back and she shuddered.

"Fuck. Never mind. It's too late." Her forearms slid under my back and her fingers curled around my shoulders, holding me tight to her. Her shallow thrusts grew more and more erratic. Her mouth was at my neck, lips parting against my skin, teeth sinking in as she moved inside me. Lisa's body locked down as she groaned low in her throat.

"I didn't expect that," she said apologetically, kissing the spot where her teeth had just been.

She pushed up on her arms and I tightened my grip, fingernails digging into her skin. "Not yet, please."

She pulled back, looking at me with something halfway between amusement and sheepishness. Her palm moved over the sheets until something crinkled. Holding herself up on one arm, she separated the twin squares and handed me one.

"Didn't you just—"

"That doesn't mean I'm done."

The sudden emptiness as she pulled out was startlingly unpleasant. Lisa removed the spent condom and tossed it in the trash. I ripped open the new one and passed it to her, too desperate to have her back inside me to do it myself. It took her two tries to roll it on.

She ran a hand gently over my hip and down my thigh, hooking her arm under my left knee. Repositioning herself, she eased back inside. We both groaned at the sensation as she drew my leg up to change the angle.

I started to comment, but she cut me off with her mouth. When I was sufficiently distracted, she began to move again, slow at first and gaining momentum. She sat back on her knees, eyes fixed where we were joined.

"You have no idea—"

She ran her thumb along the exposed base of her shaft, slick skin glistening, and circled my clit in time with her thrusts. And then she was lifting me up, bringing us chest to chest once more, this time with me in her lap. She stayed close, grinding me over her.

I rested my forearms on her shoulders, our lips meeting on every downward stroke. I'd expected her to be untamed, but this was something else, more than I knew what to do with. I looked down, over the expanse of muscle and ink, to watch her enter and leave me. I could feel it then—yet another orgasm slithering its way up my spine.

"Is this what you want?" Lisa asked, her voice like raw silk.

I whimpered, the tendrils of heat sparking to flame.

"What was that?" She cupped my chin gently in her palm, forcing my eyes up to hers, all fire and satisfaction.

I tried to nod, but she held me firmly.

"Words, Jennie. Tell me."

"Yes," I groaned.

"Yes what?"

"I want you," I whispered, so close to another release it almost hurt to stave it off. The sensations Lisa invoked were magnified to the point of being alien. Every experience before her paled in comparison. I wanted to feel like this forever.

Her smile was lascivious as she lifted me up and settled me over her again, the pace excruciatingly slow but effective.

"Are you going to come again?"

"Yes." My body shook with the effort to postpone the impending release.

"Hard?" Her lips pressed lightly against mine, a gentle counterpart to the inferno rising inside.

And then it was there, rushing through me like a forest fire, incinerating me to ash. My eyes fluttered shut and Lisa growled out a curse. "Look at me."

I pried my lids open and tried to focus on her. Her arm closed around me, and the muscles in her neck stood out in stark relief. In that moment our connection surpassed anything I'd ever known. She wasn't looking at me, but through me, inside, straight into my soul. And I felt like I was just as much inside her as she was inside me, intertwined and inextricable. I cried out, every nerve ending hypersensitive as the orgasm continued to pulse through me. When it finally abated, Lisa's hold loosened, her palm moving over my back in lulling circles. Her head dropped to my shoulder and I committed the moment to memory: the way she smelled, the feel of her skin, the taste. There was such discord between the sweet and gentle woman whispering tender things in my ear and the implacable one who forced me to look at her when I came. I worried about the fallout, about my remorse over pushing her and her potential anger at losing control.

"You all right?" she asked, making no move to break the physical connection.

I nodded into her neck, my lips on her shoulder. "That was intense."

"Mmm."

We stayed like that, wrapped in each other for a few more minutes. When heat gave way to cool, I braced myself on her shoulder and lifted off. I hissed at the movement, sharp pain shooting from the hip that had been injured in the crash.

"Did I hurt you?" Her hands skimmed over my sides, eyes following the same path, looking for some sign of trauma. She traced the scar that ran from hip to thigh. "How didn't I notice this before?"

"It's nothing. I was in an accident a while ago," I said evasively, giving what I could without revealing too much.

I moved away from her, the ache in my hip echoing in my chest from the lack of connection. The niggling worry spread like an ink spot, bleeding out, staining my insides. I retrieved my shirt from the floor and drew it over my head, suddenly self-conscious. I was about to put my underwear back on when I noticed a faint pink streak on the inside of my thigh. I wasn't surprised; it had been a long time since I'd been with anyone, and Lisa wasn't average in any way.

"I'll be right back." I snatched my clothes from the floor and locked myself in the bathroom.

I turned on the fan and ran the water, afraid I was going to crack under the pressure of my own fears and emotions. I had made a grave mistake. Now that I knew what it was like to be with her, how she erased everything, it would be impossible not to want more. But I knew that the moment she walked out my door, her armor would be back up, reinforced and fashioned out of titanium, nothing like the shattered glass cage I tried to hide inside.

I wet a washcloth and wiped away the residual evidence. Unsure of what would be waiting for me on the other side of the door, I dressed hastily. When I came out, she was pulling her shirt over her head.

"That was a really fucking bad idea," she bit out.

I had stupidly hoped the afterglow would keep me in a blissfully warm state until tomorrow. Her reaction wasn't unexpected, but the shock of truth was like a slap in the face. "I know."

"I'm still putting that tattoo on you."

"I don't want anyone else."

"But we can't do that again. Not until it's done."

"You've said that already." I clasped my hands together, my focus on my bare feet.

"I'm just making sure we're clear on that point."

She was right in front of me, palms sliding along my neck, tilting my head back. She kissed me. It wasn't soft. It was full of repressed anger and desperation. I understood completely where she was coming from. I felt it down to my bones.

"Do you want me to stay?"

"You probably shouldn't." I couldn't look at her, afraid I would see the same hope reflected in her eyes that I heard in her voice. Hope was a dangerous emotion; it gave false confidence and made a person do unconscionable things.

"But do you want me to?"

"It will complicate things more." I felt so vulnerable, exposed. I knew if she stayed, I would risk telling her my secrets, and she would find out what a coward I was. I wasn't ready for her to know the truth. I was terrified it would chase her away.

Lisa sighed. She pulled a card out of her back pocket and flipped it over, handing it to me. A number was scribbled on the back. "That's my cell. If you change your mind, I'm right across the street. I can be back here in two minutes."

I held on to the card, committing the number to memory.

"You'll come by the shop tomorrow?" She ran her fingers through my hair, like she couldn't stop touching me.

"Okay."

She dropped her hand and stepped away. The inches felt like miles. I walked her to the door. Lisa kissed me on the cheek and left.

My fingers were still curled around the doorknob. I rested my forehead against the jamb, breathing through the sudden spike of anxiety at Lisa's departure. She would have stayed if I'd asked her to, but I was petrified of what she made me feel. After having no one for so long, the possibility of filling the emptiness was almost unimaginable.

I listened to the sound of her heavy boots as she retreated down the hall, putting more distance between us. My remorse rose like mist, ready to coalesce and drag me back into the past. The mistakes were my own doing; I was responsible for this impasse. I was the one who kept pulling Lisa closer only to push her away again. I'd told her to go, even though I hadn't wanted her to. I'd done it last time, too.

I heard the floor creak outside my door. I closed my eyes and waited for the sound of her soles hitting the stairs, but there was nothing, no movement, just the thud of my heart in my ears. It looked like I wasn't the only one who was conflicted. I didn't want to lose this tenuous thing I'd found with her. If I let her leave, that might very well happen. I couldn't allow it.

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