Singe (Men of Inked Heatwave #8) - Chelle Bliss Page 0,32

guy I am right now. It’s like Arlo put some magic spell on me, making me into a man I’ve never been. Making me want to be a man I never thought I could be.

Get ahold of yourself, fool. You’re a wild beast. A pussy connoisseur. Slayer of bitches. The man every man wants to be and the one every woman wants to be in her.

“Thank you for this,” Arlo whispers.

My eyes follow my fingers as I trace the ink, making small circles, carefully coating her skin with soap. “It’s no bother. It looks like it’s healing great. A few more days and it won’t even hurt anymore.”

“Thank God,” she says. “I haven’t been able to sleep on my side since. I didn’t think this out well enough.”

“Can’t you sleep on your other side?”

“My body just rolls that way. I can’t stop myself.”

“I completely understand. I’m a back sleeper, so the back tattoo was a son of a bitch. I was a miserable prick.”

“I can only imagine how grumpy you were.”

I gaze up, my eyes meeting hers. “It wasn’t pretty.”

She smiles and it meets her eyes, making my chest ache. “You’re really good with your hands.”

I raise my eyebrow. “Careful, Arlo. I only have so much control, and it’s taking everything in me not to kiss you right now.”

She pulls her lip between her teeth, holding the corner.

“Let me finish this, and no more talking.”

She nods, not letting go of her lip, but she keeps those eyes on me.

I tear my gaze away, moving my eyes back to her skin, keeping my touch light.

After adding a little more soap and water, I slow my movements, deciding I’ll enjoy the last time I’ll probably be able to touch her skin. My fingertips glide over every inch, tracing the lines I created and marked her with forever.

“Carmello,” Arlo whispers as I slow, knowing I’m stealing time.

“Yeah, babe?” I ask, not looking up.

“Want to watch a movie with me? Maybe we can cuddle up on the couch and put on anything you want.”

Cuddle?

“I’ve had a shit day,” she explains. “I could really use some company tonight.”

I’d never been a cuddler.

I’d fucked chicks and very nicely and quickly escorted her or myself to the door, or wherever we were parting ways.

Cuddling has never been my style.

But right now, with Arlo’s big, hopeful eyes staring at me and my fingers floating across her skin, I say, “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever will make you happy.” She smiles, and my chest aches, in that same unfamiliar way it did earlier.

I am fucked.

11

My eyes pop open and my heart races, finding a woman wrapped around me, leg thrown over my middle, and arm slung across my chest.

For a second, I lie there perfectly still, too scared to move and confused about where I am.

Then it hits me.

Arlo.

The movie.

The cuddling.

The way she fit perfectly around my body, clinging to me during the scary bits and mindlessly running her fingers across my chest during the rest.

I liked it.

I liked it way too much.

We fell asleep like this, my eyes drifting closed before the movie ended. She’s settled in on her side, tattoo side up, nuzzled between the back of the couch and my body.

It felt right and as if we’d done this forever. The very fake relationship has started to feel more real than anything I’ve ever experienced before, and in all honesty, it scares the ever-living shit out of me.

“Mello,” Arlo whispers, her arm tightening across my upper body.

“Go back to sleep,” I whisper back, squeezing her hip, the place my hand feels most at home.

“Want me to move?”

“No, babe, not unless you want to.”

“I’m so comfy,” she says in a sleepy voice, her arm going limp along with the rest of her. “So very comfy.”

I turn my head, soaking in her pretty face, studying her features as she lies with her head on my shoulder, eyes closed. I stay like that, watching her until her breathing changes, each inhale growing longer as she slips into a deeper sleep.

An hour passes while I stare at her in the soft glow of the television, wondering what the fuck I’m doing here, snuggling with a woman I just met and have no hope of ever sinking into.

It’s as if Arlo has cast some secret voodoo spell over me, and somehow, I allowed it to happen. I’ve been sucked in by the mysterious woman my cousin set me up with, and I’ve gone along for the ride, with my arms up, screaming into

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