Queen of Quarantine (Brutal Boys of Everlake Prep #4) - Caroline Peckham Page 0,143

while the others chuckled.

Nash and Blake came to kiss me goodnight, grabbing some of their stuff before they left with Saint and my heart ached to be parted from them.

Kyan caught my waist, pulling me onto the bed on top of him with a grin then winced a little as I pressed my weight down on his thigh.

“Are you hurt?” I asked in alarm, kneeling up between his legs.

“Naw. Well, it’s nothing a good cock sucking won’t heal, baby,” he said, placing his hands behind his head.

I punched him in the stomach and he wheezed a breath as I smirked at him then started unbuckling his pants. He chuckled as he lifted his hips, kicking his shoes off as I pulled them down and found a dressing on his thigh.

My lips parted. “Did you get a new tattoo?”

He sat up, picking at the tape on his skin. “I couldn’t sleep last night so I started one.”

“Let me see,” I asked excitedly and he peeled it off, showing me the beautiful outline of a compass. It was big, covering most of his upper thigh and done in black and grey. The centre of it was filled with a portrait of a woman with flowers in her hair and makeup on her face that made it look like stitches ran from either side of her lips up her cheeks. There was face paint around her eyes and nose too. It reminded me of one of those beautiful Day of the Dead costumes. The compass surrounding her held letters at its points but instead of N E S and W, they were S K N and B. “It’s beautiful.”

“I was going for badass, but I’ll take it.”

“Wait a second,” I said as I continued to look at it. I bit my lip as I drank in the details and suddenly recognised myself in the face of the girl. “Is that…me?” My cheeks flushed at the idea of him branding his skin like that for me and my heart began to pound.

“Of course it is.” He grinned, capturing my wrists and pulling me against his chest, his trousers still halfway down his legs. “Now how about that blowjob, wife? I’ll eat you out for an hour after.”

I laughed, kissing the corner of his mouth, an idea circling in my head. “There’s something I want first.”

His brows arched. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah…” I ran my fingers down his chest, pushing the open shirt aside to caress the ink over his pecs. “I want a tattoo.”

His eyes lit up like a little kid’s. “You wanna write ‘property of Kyan Roscoe’ above your pussy?”

I smacked his shoulder with a laugh. “No.”

“What then?” he asked teasingly.

“I want…something that represents all of you.” I chewed my lip, running my hand over his shoulder to brush around the back of his neck. “I want an arrow. No, I want five arrows. One for each of us.”

His expression became thoughtful and he suddenly scooped me off of his lap, dumping me on the bed and pulling up his pants as he jogged into the closet. He reappeared with his sketchbook and placed it on the desk, taking a seat on the cushy chair and flipping it open. He started drawing, his eyes intense as he focused, a small crease forming between his eyes. He looked fucking beautiful, like a Roman statue poised for someone to sculpt.

I stood up and moved toward him, curious as I eyed the page over his shoulder as his pencil moved back and forth across it. I cocked my head to get a better look, but he ripped the paper out, screwed it up and tossed it across the room.

“Not good enough,” he muttered, starting again.

“Can I do anything to help?” I asked and he looked over his shoulder at me, wetting his lips.

“Yeah. Fetch a bottle of Jack Daniels from my bag,” he asked and I nodded, heading to the closet to where I knew he’d stashed some last night. I grabbed the whiskey then eyed myself in the mirror and smirked as I made a decision. I stripped out of my clothes, walking back into the room buck ass naked. He couldn’t see me from where he was hunched over the desk, sketching in furious lines then tearing the page out and screwing it up again.

I took a glass from beside a bottle of water on the nightstand and poured out a measure before filling another one for myself. I took a sip then walked over behind