I follow him to the waiting area, where Ivy’s sitting in one of the red velvet chairs, looking fucking amazing. Her hair is a new brick color, and her face is glowing as she smiles up at us.
“Hi,” she chirps happily when she sees us.
“Hey, Ivy, I want you to meet my cousin, Storm. And Storm, this is Ivy.”
Storm shakes her hand and looks back at me. “Dude, you were right. She’s beautiful.” I’m going to kick his ass if he embarrasses me. Or her.
Ivy laughs. “It’s nice to meet you, Storm. I love your name.”
“Yeah, it’s very fitting,” I interrupt, grinning. “He was just leaving.”
Storm puts his arms up and waves his hands. “I get it. I’m going. I’m going.” He turns to me. “I’ll see you soon, man.” He looks down at Ivy. “And hopefully you, too. Have a great holiday.”
“You too.”
I lock the door behind Storm, so no one else wanders in, and finally turn my full attention to Ivy.
“You look gorgeous,” I tell her. “You are rocking that fuckin’ hair color.”
She smiles and looks down a little, her cheeks blushing. “Thank you. My daughter helped me color it.”
“I love it. Come on. Let’s go back.”
Damn, I want to pull her into my arms and kiss her, and just forget about her tattoo for now. This time, when she changes her clothes, she comes back wearing these cute little black shorts with red hearts. I’m loving the changes I see in her today. She’s growing confident, and I’m hoping I’ve helped bring that out of her.
After she settles down in the leather chair, I wheel my stool closer to her and run my hand gently over her tattoo, which looks awesome spanning her leg.
“Did you wear these for me?” I ask her, my voice low, my fingers skimming the edge of the shorts. She nods and smiles shyly, and that just ignites my desire for her even more. Her shyness turns me on wicked bad.
“I like.” She watches my hand move to rest on her outer thigh. “I’m gonna finish this tonight, and I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.” I look up at her face, finding her eyes wide, and she’s chewing her bottom lip. “So what’s it gonna be, doll? Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night? I’d like to get you out of client mode.”
She nods, still not saying a word. “You sure?” I ask her, and she nods yet again, her eyes glazed as I let my fingertips brush just beneath the edge of her shorts, touching her silky thigh.
I bend down and kiss her leg, right above her knee, and a small gasp escapes her. Fuck, she is so easy to turn on. Bending her leg up, I kiss the sensitive spot behind her knee then slowly drag my lips up the inside of her thigh, tasting her sweet flesh. I stop just a few inches from the apex of her thighs and gently graze her with my teeth.
“Lukas . . .” she whispers. Her hand goes to my head, her fingers in my hair, and all I want is to feel her yanking my hair and hear her moan my name while I give her all the attention she is starving for and deserves to have. I want nothing more than to give this woman my heart, body, and soul, and hope that she will give me the same in return.
Lifting my head up, I catch her eyes with mine. “I’m not going to do this like this.” I sit up and reluctantly pull away from her, which is sheer torture for me. As much as I want her, I’m not going to fool around with her on my fucking tattoo chair. This is where I work, and I’ve already crossed way too many inappropriate lines. More importantly, she deserves so much better than this. When I touch her and kiss her, I want it to be in the right place at the right time.