undressed last night, perhaps I would know one way or another if I was right or not.
“No?” He winked as he approached. “And why’s that?”
I shrugged, fighting the urge to look over to see if Gil was watching us.
The absolute last thing I needed was to supply Gil with any ammunition to give me a hard time. He was ruthless about it, which was one of the many reasons I did my best not to let him know when I was interested in someone.
Not that I was interested in Jacob Wild.
Much.
Chapter Thirty
Jake
For the second time since I’d seen her in the coffee shop two weeks ago, Presley Abrams didn’t have a hood covering her head, which meant I got the pleasure of seeing her in an entirely different light. Since the bar had been dimly lit last night, and afterward we’d been otherwise occupied, I hadn’t gotten the full impact.
Now, I had.
And she was even more beautiful than I’d originally thought. Her shoulder-length coral-pink hair was a culmination of short layers, framing her face and resting on her shoulders. She was small but not fragile. It was evident she could hold her own. Still, she brought out a baser instinct in me, something primal and possessive. And I fucking loved the feeling. It made me think of Justin—my lead character in Forbidden—and the way he felt about Jill.
Since she was wearing a snug black T-shirt, I also got a better look at the tattoos that snaked down her slender arms, though I did my best not to stare at them since she was looking at me as though I were the Ghost of Christmas Past.
I was still intrigued to know why she’d never thought she’d see me in here. I wasn’t sure whether she meant this particular establishment, or any tattoo shop at all.
“You assume I don’t have any tattoos?” I asked, coming to stand on the other side of the small counter.
“I never assume anything.”
I could see it in her eyes, she had made that assumption, but it didn’t bother me. I knew how most people perceived me. I’d seen plenty of articles that referred to me as the pretty boy author; some critics who didn’t like my work said I’d make a better living as a male model. Needless to say, I didn’t have anything to prove to anyone, so I didn’t bother.
But for some reason, I wished she’d seen all of me last night so there wouldn’t be any doubts.
“Is that why you’re here?” she asked. “For a tattoo?”
“I’m tossing the idea around a little,” I told her.
Honestly, I hadn’t given much thought to what I wanted yet, but yes, I intended to get another tattoo. Just not tonight.
Tonight, I had purposely stopped in to see if she was there. I had needed to see her, to make sure she wasn’t pissed at me. To find a way to fix this thing between us.
And seeing her now… I was once again inspired, but not necessarily to write.
“Well, I’m sure Gil could fit you in,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at the guy I remembered from the impromptu orgy a couple of weeks ago, currently working on a brunette who had a bad case of the giggles.
Leaning down, I lowered my voice. “And what if I wanted you to do it?”
Her gray eyes sparkled, turning darker as they widened.
“Well, I’d say that you better have a design on you ’cause I’m fresh out of ideas.”
“Back to tic-tac-toe?” I asked, understanding what she meant.
The very corners of her glossy pink lips curled up. It wasn’t much of a smile, but I’d take it.
“Maybe.”
I nodded. Looked as though we were both looking for our inspiration.
“Would you like to get a drink with me?” I asked, after gazing around to ensure no one was standing behind me. The instant it looked as though she was going to say no, I added, “Or coffee, dinner, dessert … anything.”
Her smile widened and I couldn’t look away.
“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”
I lowered my voice so only she could hear. “Actually, I’ve thought of little else but you.”
She seemed surprised by that and the sharp intake of breath made my body harden. I instantly remembered what she sounded like when she came.
Luckily, she pulled me from my erotic thought before I could let my imagination get away from me.
“Fine. Then I’ll take a milkshake.”
I laughed. Couldn’t help myself. It was thirty-seven degrees outside and she wanted a milkshake.