More Than Meets the Ink (9 page)

“Okay, let me see,” she said, taking her time. Where to start? “Tell me, if your tats signal pivotal moments in your life, why didn’t you get one when you got married? I’d say getting married is a huge turning point in a man’s life.”

More silence. Leave it to her to choose the worst topic.

When Tate was almost convinced he wasn’t going to answer, he began, “Elaine and I were high school sweethearts. After I came back from the military, we hooked up again, and she got pregnant. Despite our regular clashes, I insisted on marrying her. No child of mine was going to be raised without me; that was totally nonnegotiable. She miscarried in the fourth month, just before the wedding. Deep down I knew we weren’t right for each other, but she was so devastated from losing the baby I didn’t have the heart to call the whole thing off. And hell, I loved her, or so I thought. My subconscious knew better, though. It never felt right to celebrate with a tattoo, so I didn’t. It turned out the pivotal moment wasn’t the wedding, but the divorce. Life’s a bitch sometimes. The tattoo is there to remind me of how royally I fucked up, just in case I ever feel like getting married again.”

“Sorry.”

“No need for sorrys; that’s just the way things are. I wasn’t what she wanted, so she cheated on me and dumped me. I believe she called it ‘upgrading husbands.’”

“Ouch.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, fucking ouch. At the time, though, it shattered my pride more than my heart.”

She didn’t say anything for a long while. What could she say? She’d been dumped too, several times actually, but never upgraded to a better model, at least not right away.

Well, now that they were on touchy ground…

“Where’s your mom? Is she back in Boston?”

“Nope. Or maybe she is, I don’t know,” he answered matter-of-factly. “Never cared enough to go looking for her.” She winced. Jeez, wasn’t she a buzzkill today. “She bailed out on us when I was small.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “That must’ve been hard.”

“Not really.” She could almost hear the shrug in his voice. He didn’t sound upset or uncomfortable with the subject. “She wasn’t such a great mom to begin with. Pretty absent from what I recall. So I wouldn’t say it was that hard when she left. I had a strong safety net behind me. Aunt Maggie, Dad’s older sister, moved in with us to help, and between her and Dad, they managed quite well. Me and my bros turned out pretty fine.” Yeah, you could see in the easy and self-confident way he carried himself and how he interacted with his father that James had emotionally lacked for nothing while growing up. “For the most part, I was cool with my mother’s absence. Besides, it wasn’t unexpected or as if we lost her all of a sudden. Yes, she left one day and didn’t come back, but it was a long time coming.”

Well, a sudden and unexpected loss was definitely worse, she could attest to that, at least as far as feeling abandoned and lost was concerned. Her safety net, as he called it, had disintegrated in a fraction of a second, leaving her scared, alone, and in free fall ever since. All she could think most days was how much longer she’d fall until she hit bottom. Her lower lip began trembling, but she shook her head. No way. No breaking down. No more pity parties. Enough drama. Change of subject.

She cleared her throat. “It looks like I owe you an apology.”

“Uh?”

“About hinting that you were the type that couldn’t hold down a job even if your life depended on it.”

He laughed. “Ah, that.”

Tate went for casual. “By the way, what is it that you do?”

“So we’re curious now, uh?”

She shrugged, and when she realized he couldn’t see her, she reluctantly added, “Maybe.”

“When I came home from the army, I did some carpentry work in my dad’s construction company. Then I went into the bounty hunter business and—”

“Bounty hunter?” she all but yelled. “With that goofy smile of yours?”

“Yeah, and believe it or not, this smile of mine has opened more doors than my fists.”

Well, yeah, that she’d believe, no problem. She’d been right; he was a bad boy in full-conceal mode.

“Then I got tired of chasing after criminals and losers and went into business with Zack and Sean, two colleagues of mine. We set up a security installation firm; we provide security systems and other security ware for specialists. We have a long-term contract with city hall; plus we handle a lot of private business.”

She was quiet for a while; Tate was not big on apologizing. “Well, in light of this new information, I have to recognize I might have been a bit rash in judging you.”

“Might have been?” He was probably trying not to sound too cocky but was failing miserably.

“Don’t push it, buddy. That you can actually hold a job down doesn’t mean all the other attributes don’t apply. There are the tattoos and the rogue looks to consider, not to mention your colorful career choices, macho pickup and arrogant attitude. You’re bad news.”

His voice was low, velvety rough, arousing her senses. “But it makes you hot.”

She chuckled. “It shouldn’t though. You aren’t for me. Too dangerous.”

“Ha. Says the wicked princess with a pierced clit.”

“It’s not the clit I have pierced, it’s the clitoral hood; big difference.”

“Whatever, honey. Tell me, what on earth made you get your pussy pierced? As long as I’m spilling my guts here, it’s only fair you do the same.”

“Do you really want to know?” She paused, toying with the idea of telling him. “Honestly? You’ll think I’m a psycho.”

“I already think you’re a psycho, so you see, you have nothing to lose. Hit me,” he pushed her.

She closed her eyes; there it went, something she’d never told anyone. “My clit is too small,” she blurted so fast she wasn’t even sure he understood.

Silence. Then a groan of disbelief. “No, it isn’t.”

“It is,” she insisted. “That’s why I put the piercing there, as a therapeutic device. I had trouble coming.”

That last piece of info seemed to baffle him even more than her earlier admission. “Really? I’d never have guessed that.”

No, she supposed he wouldn’t, seeing how fast and loudly she exploded around him every time.

“Stop gloating; it isn’t nice. I know it doesn’t seem so now that you’re around, and you get me all bothered with just one look, but until you came along I…struggled to orgasm.” That was putting it mildly; sometimes she’d feared the guy was going to get a cramp in his hand. More than once she’d been tempted to offer him a drink hat so he could sip liquid and replenish his energy while he was at it. “I figured by putting a ring there, the whole area would get more…detailed attention.”

He chuckled. “You mean you thought having a bouncing, shiny distraction on your clit would draw more attention to it? Like the baby toys adults swing in front of a baby to get a reaction, to get the infant to grope it, inspect it, lick it, and play with it?”

“Well, I didn’t think of it in those terms, but yeah. It’s my come-and-find-it to men.” Not that it had worked that fabulously with anyone before.

Now he just laughed openly. “Sorry to inform you, but you’ve been having sex with morons.”

No shit, she could have guessed that on her own. His cockiness rattled her, though, and an exasperated groan left her throat. “Well, you seem to like to play with it too, mister.”

“I do, but I’m no child. I’m a man. I don’t need any extra stimuli to go for what gives you pleasure. I’m not interested in the ring per se but in what’s beneath it. And by the way, what’s that bull about your clit being too small?”

She cleared her throat, not sure whether she should continue talking. She had to face the guy tomorrow, for crying out loud. “It is smallish, not very big, or in any way protruding, kind of insignificant. They tended to miss it when making love. I thought the piercing would help me. When I’m…um…aroused and my clit is hard, the contact to the cool metal ball is very exciting. And there’s more friction during sex, bigger chance to get off. Plus it’s sexy,” she finished while blushing madly. She’d never been so overtly sincere with anyone.

“Yes, it is damn sexy, I’ll give you that, but I don’t know how you got it into your head that your clit is insignificant. It’s bullshit. You have a beautiful clit. Big enough, very demanding, as a matter of fact. When it’s throbbing with need, it flushes a crimson red. It’s gorgeous. You’re gorgeous, princess.”

“Um…thanks.” The piercing in the hood of her clit had also been a vain impulse to be naughty and wicked, to spice things up with Aidan, not that he’d really appreciated it. James had appreciated it. She smiled at the memory of his transfixed face that first day in his truck as he’d slid his fingers down and found her sex bare and pierced. Need and lust had roared in his eyes—and surprise—at the piercing and the lack of hair. It was like he hadn’t expected her to be so daring. Waxing her pussy made her feel feminine, wanton. Plus she loved her folds bare, sensitive, and smooth. James had loved it too, if the appreciative sounds he’d made while going down on her were anything to go by.

“If you weren’t able to get off, as sure as hell it wasn’t your fault or your clit’s. It’s the shit-for-brains dickheads you’ve been having sex with. Unskilled assholes. Let me come over, and I’ll prove it to you. You’ll come so many times you’ll be limp by the time I’m done with you.”

A nervous giggle bubbled up in her throat. She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with him. “Not a chance in hell, mister. We’ll get caught. They’re downstairs still; I can hear them. One near miss per day is enough, thank you very much. I’m too old for that shit.” She hadn’t recovered yet from the earlier fiasco, and she wasn’t ready to give it a second go.

“Having you so close by and not being able to make love to you is killing me.”

“Abstinence, self-control, and denial of the pleasures of the flesh is good for your soul, choirboy.”

He chuckled softly. “Sorry, baby, never got into the whole Catholic self-denial thing.” There was a thick silence charged with roaring need. “What do you have on, sweetheart?” The huskiness in his voice abraded her senses. His question thundered over her nerve endings, and she instantly broke out in goose bumps. Man, even his voice did it for her. How freaky was that?

She swallowed, not sure if she had the courage to utter the words. “A short camisole and panties, but—”

“But what, baby?” he asked hoarsely.

She closed her eyes and went for it; after all, this was her chance at being naughty with someone who’d appreciate it. “But my nipples are so hard and achy the brush of the material against them hurts.” Which amazed her because they’d never been that responsive before. She’d always believed when her erogenous zones had been given, her boobs had totally missed out. But with James around, her nipples were hard all the time, begging to be touched, and her boobs even felt bigger. “I may have to take the clothes off.”

She heard a strangled curse from the other side of the line. “You’re killing me here.” He all but growled.

“Me?” she said with the most angelic voice she could muster. “What did I say now?”

“This is a classic scenario, the ultimate sex fantasy for Catholics: the temptress that whispers naughty things and uses the cover of night to seduce a poor bastard’s virginal body. The all-time Catholic repressed dream.”

“Virginal?” she choked out. “Yeah, right!” No matter how hard she tried, Tate could not reconcile that word with James.

“I’ve never had phone sex before; my Catholic, puritanical soul is immaculate in that respect.”

She laughed. “There isn’t an inch of immaculate in you. And I had no idea that was where this was leading.”

“Hell yes. You started it, actually.”

She chewed her bottom lip, uncertainty riding her hard. “I’ve never had phone sex; I don’t really think I know how.”

“I have some ideas.”

No shit. “I bet you do.”

“Put on your hands-free.”

“Wait a sec,” she said, fumbling around to get the small device.

“Do you have it on?”

She mumbled an assent.

“Good. First get comfortable, take the camisole off. Let’s give some relief to those beautiful nipples.”

She shuddered at his words, the sheer sexuality emanating from them searing her nerve endings and flooding her pussy. This was madness; she had no clue what she was doing, her hands were shaking, and her heart was speeding.

“Lick your fingers and gently rub your nipples with them. Pretend it’s my tongue on them, soothing them.”

She felt heat creeping up her face. He was turning her on, there in the dark and quiet of her room, with her mom and guests downstairs. She’d have never said it’d work for her, but apparently it did; she could feel the moisture gathering in her flushed folds, the heated ache glowing in her core. She was needy, her flesh tender and sensitive and wet. Man, this was so naughty.

She did as he said. She licked the pads of her fingers and rubbed her nipples. The electrifying contact made her jerk, ripping a gasp out of her. She was so sensitized the cooler air on her fast-burning-up breasts was almost painful.

“Tell me what you’re doing, princess, I want to hear. Are you touching yourself as I asked you to?”

Her mouth was dry, but she forced herself to form words. “Yeah, my nipples are tight and swollen. I’m stroking them with my wet fingers. They’re darkening, hardening. They ache, James.”

“For what?”

“For your touch, your mouth,” she said as the scene unfolded in her head: James with her in her bed, kissing her breasts, caressing them. His mouth suckling at her nipples, his teeth gently nipping at them, his tongue flicking over her flesh. Nobody knocking at the door.

“You don’t have to ache for my touch, babe; you have it, anytime you want. I’ll worship your beautiful tits, touch that soft skin, kiss you all over. Forget where you are. Close your eyes and listen to my voice, feel me touching you. Take your panties off for me, princess.”

She was so lost in her pleasure that she didn’t understand his words at first. “Uh?”

“Panties off.”

She laughed. “You’re too bossy. Am I not supposed to be the temptress that sneaks into your bedroom to tempt and seduce your Catholic soul along with your body? I should be running the show.”