Old Ink (Get Ink'd #3) - Ali Lyda Page 0,32

someone yelled “Get a room!” before they and their friends descended into giggles and catcalls.

It broke the moment and Reagan pulled back, leaving me reeling and stunned. Slowly, I unhooked my leg and let it drop, but I didn’t release my hold on his back. We were panting hard, our breaths mingling in the air between us.

“What—” I swallowed, trying to pick up the pieces of myself that had been shattered by that kiss, “What in the hell was that?”

Reagan’s hands released my hair and dropped to my shoulders. There was a tension in them, like he couldn’t decide if he should pull me closer or push me away.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, his voice so low and husky it sent fireworks sparking down my spine.

“Oh, no,” I said, “you definitely should have. And you should do it a lot more. Like, now.”

I thrust my hips slightly, feeling the hard evidence of his attraction hadn’t abated one bit.

His eyes narrowed but his lips, swollen and red from kissing the hell out of me, were turned up at the corners. “Not… not yet. Let me take you to get some food.”

I sighed. It wasn’t a no, but goddamn the stubborn man, it wasn’t a yes, either. But that kiss...fuck, my blood was still simmering. There would be no more truce between us. He’d just fired the first shot and like hell would I let him retreat now.

9

Reagan

Fucking fuckity fuck. The sheer volume of craving that spun and shifted in each cell and nerve in my body was next to impossible to rein in.

It felt as if I were on fire, my body a burning torch that would never be doused. I could still taste Channing on my mouth, in my mouth, and I worried that I would never be able to settle for anything less than that—that I’d spend the rest of my life chasing that feeling.

And based on the looks he was giving me, Channing would let me have anything and everything I wanted, and that scared the shit out of me.

But food would provide a distraction, and time. I desperately needed the time to collect myself before I crossed the point of no return. Assuming, of course, that I hadn’t already.

Channing swayed as he moved toward my truck and I reached out to grab his elbow to steady him. The feel of his skin, soft and enticing, left me feeling hollow. I wasn’t going to be able to do this, to resist again. I wasn’t strong enough.

We drove in silence, the kiss and all that it carried so thick in the air it stifled our ability to speak. I chose a late-night diner I liked. I often hit it up after a long day at the shop, enjoying the good food and solitude it offered—which would be perfect for tonight.

The hostess led us to a private table at the back, and I almost wanted to request someplace different. Say, around people, hoping that their presence would shake some sense back into me. But I clamped my mouth shut and slid into the corner booth. Channing sat across from me, his cheeks still flushed and his lips glistening and begging to be kissed again.

“The usual for you, Reagan?” Molly, our waitress, knew me well. I nodded. There was an intrigued sparkle in her eyes I didn’t appreciate when she looked at my much younger eating companion. “And you?”

“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” Channing said, not bothering to glance at the menu. Molly slipped her pad back into her apron and left to put in our orders and bring us coffee.

“You’re a regular here,” Channing said.

“Yeah. It’s a good spot. Quiet enough for me to unwind if I’m too amped up after work to head straight home.”

Channing nodded. “I get that.”

Molly returned with two mugs and a carafe of coffee. I poured some for each of us before settling back into the uneven leather of the ancient booth seating. Channing pinned me with his eyes, so dark blue in the dim yellow light of the diner they almost appeared black. His hair was mussed, still sticking up a bit where I’d clung to it.

When I’d done what I’d sworn I wouldn’t, and kissed the hell out of him.

“Why were you at the club tonight?” Channing asked, holding his mug between his hands like it offered strength.

“Dane called and said he wasn’t sure your friends would be responsible about getting you home safe if you were drunk. He and Chris