bother me. Even if it makes him a fucking hypocrite. But we both know Daisy—"
"Yeah."
"So… how was it?" he asks.
"Excuse me?"
"Like you don't want to tell someone." He raises a brow. "I know you and Daisy. You tell each other everything. And now you can't tell her shit."
"I don't give her details about guys." Not explicit ones.
"Bullshit."
"Why do you care?"
"You must be dying to spill." He leans in to whisper. "So… how was it?"
"Are you serious?"
He nods yeah. "You think I can't keep a secret?"
I motion a little.
He shrugs suit yourself. "If you change your mind." He motions to his cell. Then to his suite in the front. "You know where to find me."
Holden looks to Oliver as he walks his client out. Joins the two of us.
"This guy giving you trouble?" Ollie asks.
"Just the usual." I shoot Holden a don't look.
He nods of course. For all his issues, the guy knows how to play along. "Heard you're getting some new ink. Can't believe you didn't ask me." He bows his head in the ultimate display of mock sadness. "You're breaking my heart."
"Uh-huh," I say.
Ollie chuckles. It's easy. Like he's not worried about Holden catching on.
"You gonna do it now?" Holden asks. "Can I watch?"
"How did he make that sexual?" I ask.
"It's a gift." Oliver nods.
"He's gonna hold a giant needle to your skin to mark you permanently," Holden says. "How is it not sexual?"
"It's a little phallic, yeah," I say.
"And that design… pretty badass, Luna. Is this your first?" he asks.
"Yeah." I bite my lip.
"A virgin too." Holden smiles. "Always love to see a virgin. But I'll leave you to it." He winks at me. So it's clear I know he means to the actual fucking. "See you Saturday night."
Holden nods goodbye to the shop and takes his leave.
The room quiets. Only the hum of Pearl Jam and the buzz of a tattoo gun.
"Patrick?" I ask.
"Angel, don't." His fingers brush my thigh. "I can't think straight when I'm jealous."
And if he can't think straight, everyone here is going to know we're fucking. And it's going to get back to Daisy.
Tattoo artists gossip like middle school girls.
"Would you do it now?" I ask. "The tattoo?"
He shakes his head. "Too tired. Won't do it right." He motions to the office. "But I do have an idea."
"Oh?"
"About how you can earn it."
Fuck.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Luna
About how you can earn it.
He lets it hang in the air. Expand to fill the space. To make the entire room warm and inviting.
Yes.
Hell yes.
Every. Single. Yes.
I nod.
He motions to the office again.
I motion to the still occupied suite. Patrick and a cute chick getting something on her wrist. They're halfway done. Unlikely to stop and enter the office.
But they're still here.
Oliver drops his voice to a whisper. "Would you rather wait?"
I shake my head. No.
"Good." His eyes light up. He takes my hand. Leads me to the office.
A tiny space. A desk, an ergonomic chair, and cheap white cabinet, this long stretch of empty wall.
A lot of options.
I press my back against the door. Click the lock. "I have to earn it."
"Yeah." He brings his hand to my hip. "You'll have to find some way to convince me."
My voice drops to something low and breathy. "How can I do that?"
"You're a creative girl." He slips his hand between my legs. "I'm sure you'll think of something."
He's letting me lead the… whatever this is.
A role play, I guess. I've never tried it before. I've thought about plenty of scenarios, but I've never acted on one.
"What do you want?" I drop my voice to a tone that's soft. Obedient.
"What do you think?" He rocks forward until his hard-on presses against my stomach.
My breath catches in my throat. Fuck, that already feels good.
"You did this to me, angel." He wraps his fingers around my wrist. Brings my hand to his cock. "You make me this hard."
I cup him over his jeans.
"Make me this fucking crazy." He leans down to press his lips to mine. He kisses me hard and deep.
So much I can't breathe.
So much I can't sense anything but the taste of his lips and the warmth of his body.
When he pulls back, I'm dizzy. Already lost in how badly I want him. Already fading into this game we're playing.
He takes a half-step backward. "You're wearing my jacket."
"Yes."
"Yes, sir."
My sex clenches. "Yes, sir."
"You know what that does to me? Seeing you in my clothes? When I can't touch you?"