More Than Meets the Ink (7 page)

The Nicholsons and James’s dad laughed earnestly. Tate just frowned.

Unemployed bum? She hadn’t called him that, had she? Certainly not a surfer, anyway. “I don’t think that of you.”

He grinned. “Yes you do.” He turned to the others. “She’s convinced I’m a tattooed lowlife cashing in on my sexy aura. But she likes me anyway, don’t you?”

Everyone looked expectantly at her, and Tate felt all the blood in her body rush to her face.

“You do?” her mom asked inquisitively.

Ignoring her mom, she turned to James. “Don’t grin; it’s unbecoming, mister,” she muttered, mortified.

Mr. Nicholson cut in. “The unemployed bum here has a great thing going on.”

“I’ve gotten some lucky breaks.” He shrugged, absentmindedly caressing her arm. His touch was gentle, insistent.

Goose bumps prickled her skin. What was it about him that got to her? She didn’t know. He was gorgeous, true, but it wasn’t as if she’d never seen a gorgeous guy before. No, it was more; there was something about James she couldn’t explain, something that called to her at a basic level, down there with primal emotions and primal needs. And at the same time, it felt so much more than just physical, like they connected in some way, which was totally crazy because they didn’t really know each other that well. And what she knew wasn’t that encouraging, except for that piece of news about him having a business. A legit one, anyway. That was a surprise, totally out of character for his type.

After eating, she went to lie down on the hammock. She was stuffed and needed to get away from James for a while, from that restless, needy feeling invading her every time he touched her. Breathing deeply, she closed her eyes and relaxed. She didn’t pay too much attention to the chitchat around her; she just let go, enjoying herself.

It’d been so long since she’d rested, since Dad and Jonah died, really. First it’d been incredulity, then fierce grief. She’d have loved to lock herself away from the world and the pain, like her mom had done in a way, but she hadn’t been granted that small mercy. Someone had to take over Rosita’s. Since then there had been one crisis after another, not even time to draw a breath in between. She’d left her job, put her life on hold, and tried her damn best, but it seemed her best wasn’t cutting it. She didn’t have what it takes to make the restaurant work, not when everyone was against her, not when tears welled in her eyes every time she looked at the pictures hanging on the walls. And as if dealing with her staff acting out and her maître d’ trying to bully her weren’t enough, there was the sicko and his foul e-mails to deal with too. Man, what she’d give to find out who the asshole that had been sending her e-mails for the last six months was. Nasty ones, insulting and threatening, demanding she close the restaurant—sell it or else. She shuddered to think of the new ones in her in-box, unopened, waiting for her to get back to Boston and get sucked into its bile again. She shook those memories away. No, she wasn’t going to let them ruin her short break. She’d deal with all that when she got back, not a second before.

She slowly opened her eyes to find James staring down at her, two bowls of ice cream in his hands. She sat up, feeling awkward and embarrassed, as if he could somehow read her thoughts and find out all that she was trying so hard to conceal.

“You seemed miles away.” He sat down beside her. “What’s up?”

She gave him an absentminded smile. “Nothing; just thinking about all the crap waiting for me back home.”

“Such as?”

She opened her mouth but closed it again, shaking her head. “Nothing. I just hope they’re managing in the restaurant.”

“Didn’t you close it down for the week?”

She shook her head again. Of course not, she couldn’t afford it; she was already badly behind on her bills, playing catch up with her credit card.

“I see. Why wouldn’t they manage?” James inquired.

She shrugged, blabbed some nonsense, and as she heard someone mention something about playing gin, she grabbed on to it for dear life. “Come on; let’s play too.”

James frowned but didn’t push it, and boy was she grateful for it.

Unfortunately she sucked at gin and sucked at losing too, just as bad, if not worse. She pouted and cursed, and James laughed at her duck face. Soon he was eating her with his eyes though. Too bad she was busy frowning; losing with grace was definitely not one of her virtues.

After some rounds, things started to slow down—her mom and Mrs. Nicholson wandered from the table and went to check some flowers, while Mr. Bowen and Mr. Nicholson chattered about golf clubs. James took the chance to snatch her away.

“Come with me, Tate,” he said while gripping her wrist and pulling her unceremoniously into his father’s house. Luckily everyone else was distracted.

She didn’t have to ask what for; it was written all over his sex-starved face. Nevertheless she indulged in it, just for fun. “Why? What for?”

His wicked smile made her skin prickle. “I thought I’d show you my room.”

“Ah, I see.” She chuckled. “Is that what they call it nowadays?”

He closed his father’s front door and turned to kiss her—hard. She sank her hands in his soft, warm hair and gave herself over to the sensation, licking his tongue. She’d been hungering for him too, all through the barbecue, every time he smiled at her or touched her, which he did plenty, to everyone’s astonishment. Hers the most.

“That dress is designed to send a grown man to his knees, it should be X-rated. It was cruel of you to wear it in public where I couldn’t touch you.”

She laughed. “You’ve been touching me, mister. For the last couple of hours, you’ve been caressing my arms and my neck. Feeding me on the hammock. Brushing my hair from my face. Everyone was staring, or didn’t you notice?”

He shrugged. “I like touching you. And we
are
adults.”

“Not to them we aren’t.”

James ignored her and led her to his room, closing the door behind her. “Well, here we are. My room.”

She looked around, amused. The guest room looked quite nondescript, like hers at her mom’s, but it smelled like him. Big plus. “I see. Now what?”

“I don’t know. What should any self-respecting man do when he’s got a beautiful but elusive woman alone in his room?”

“I don’t know. Has the self-respecting man got protection this time?”

He grinned. “Lots of it; two drugstores worth of it.”

“Maybe the beautiful but elusive woman would appreciate him getting on with it some other time, when there wasn’t company downstairs in the backyard. Kind of embarrassing, don’t you think?”

“They haven’t even noticed we’re gone. Besides, I’ve been dreaming about you all night, about that cute clit piercing in that sweet little pussy of yours. I want to see it.”

Tate blushed. Talk about going straight to business.

“I want to play with my pirate princess,” he said as he pulled off his shirt. He was huge, and beautiful, his chest an expansion of taut muscles. “I want to go down on you. Play with that ring, lap at your pussy, and make you come. For starters.”

He walked toward her, forcing her to take a step back. Her calves made contact with the bed, and she tumbled onto it.

James was already on his knees, pulling up the skirt of her dress.

“James, wait a second.” She giggled and twisted, trying to keep him from under her skirt. She doubted the others would miss them; she was fairly sure they hadn’t noticed them sneaking in, but still. Flashing her mom and the neighbors wasn’t something she was dying to do. Besides, having lovely but extremely nosy Mrs. Nicholson walk in on them was like handing the chatty, perky lady a microphone and giving her permission to broadcast the whole “event” to all the Eternal Sun Resort.

James didn’t seem to care.

“No, no more waiting. I want to taste you. Now.” He placed a hot kiss on her mound through her damp panties, and Tate screamed at the contact, the acute sensation sending a powerful jolt of electricity to her lower belly, making her womb spasm. In a second, he had stripped her of her panties and was parting her thighs wider. “Open up for me, babe.

“Fuck you’re beautiful, all flushed and pink,” he said with a growl, staring at her core, his fingers playing with the ring at the hood of her clit. “And this is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

She wanted to say something but only managed to gasp. Finally she found her voice and her bravado. “Yeah? And what do you plan to do with it?”

“I’m going to lick every inch of this pretty pussy. All over until you come. Then I’ll wrap your legs around my waist and fuck you until you scream. How does that sound for a plan?”

She felt embarrassed for about half a second, as long as it took him to fall upon her. Then everything was forgotten.

His fingers opened her carefully. “Damn, you’re wet, babe.” His mouth lapped at her folds, exploring every inch of her flesh, his tongue also caressing her entrance and then sliding up to her clit. He sucked at it and played with the little ball of the piercing while his fingers probed her. First one, then two.

“You’re snug, baby, sucking at my fingers. I can’t wait to get my cock in you. You’re going to be as tight as a fist.”

His expert mouth sucking at her clit and his fingers rocking inside her, pressing at her hot spots, were driving her mad with need. She writhed under him, her hand on his head, urging him on. He was taking his time, humming against her swollen clit, working his fingers inside her sheath, not thrusting hard enough.

Her pants grew louder. “James…”

“Yes, baby?”

“I need to come… Make me come, please.”

“In a little bit.” His voiced rumbled, the vibration making her jerk.

“No, now,” she urged him, pressing his head to her, lifting her hips to him. Damn him! She just needed a little more friction. A little more and she’d fly apart. But he wasn’t cooperating.

He chuckled, placed one hand over her stomach, and held her down, immobilizing her. “Soon, baby.”

As far as Tate was concerned, soon didn’t come soon enough, but when it did, it rocked her world. With his fingers steadily fucking her and his mouth sucking her clit, her womb began convulsing, sending jolts of pure energy all over her body, burning all her synapses. Her back bowed, her head dipped into the bed, and she felt herself split into a thousand pieces. Her mouth was already open when, at the last second, she somehow remembered there were people nearby, so she gripped the sheets hard and did her damn best not to break the windows with her shouts.

She came hard and long, James stroking her until he drew all the pleasure from her. When she floated back and opened her eyes, he was stark naked, rolling on a condom. She licked her dry lips as James pulled her to her feet.

“Come here, sweetheart, on your feet, and let’s get this dress off you.”

She obediently raised her arms and let him undress her. She chuckled. To his questioning stare, she shrugged, “This is my first nooner. So far I’m loving it.”

“I surely hope so. You’re gorgeous, and loud. And I fucking love it.”

He kissed her, entangling his tongue with hers in a fierce, wet caress while his hands stroked her breasts and his fingers pinched her taut nipples.

Although he’d loved getting blowjobs, as if it were his God-given right, Aidan had rarely gone down on her, and when he had, he’d been very careful not to do a great job. God forbid she’d like it and start asking for more. Besides, Aidan didn’t do fluids—too blue-collar for him. James was a totally different story; not only was he spectacular at oral sex, but he seemed to dig fluids; he’d wiped his mouth, but even then she could clearly taste herself on him, smell herself on him, on his chin, on his cheeks, in his mouth.

She moved her hands to his dick and palmed him, stroking him from tip to base and then back to tip. He jerked, a ragged growl escaping from him.

“Not now, babe, or it’ll be over before it starts. I want you too much.”

He lifted her by her ass, two steps, and he was on the bed, placing her on her back while he settled between her legs, probing her with his fingers, his mouth licking her neck.

“Damn, you’re small. I should make you come a couple times more before fucking you, but the truth is I can’t wait, princess. I’m big, but you’re wet and soft from that orgasm, so it’ll have to do. I’ll go slow on you.”

That was fine by her. She urged him with her hands, clutching at his shoulders. She couldn’t wait either. She felt his blunt head sliding up and down her slit, spreading her wetness on him, and then nudging at her inner folds.

“You’re so hot, baby. And tight. My dick is dying here.” He reached down in between them and began gently rubbing her clit, building her desire. Of their own volition, her hips began swaying, lifting, granting him access for deeper penetration. “That’s right, baby. Open up for me; let me in.”

He’d worked the crown of his cock firmly in when a knock on the door made her heart somersault.

“James, you in there?”

Mr. Bowen.

Tate froze. From the corner of her eye, she saw the doorknob turning. Holy shit!

James’s hand shot to the door, pressing his palm against it. “Don’t come in!” he shouted. “I hmm… I’m changing.”

“Well, get to it fast. Mr. Nicholson is waiting for us downstairs. Did you forget we have a time reserved for golf?”

“Now?” he asked with a strangled tone. “But…”

“Yeah, now.”

James fixed his eyes on Tate. Such strength in them. “Give me five minutes.”

“You only have two; we’re running late.”

As soon as Tate heard Mr. Bowen walking away, she let out a shaky breath, her first one since being interrupted. James seemed in horrible pain, poised in her entrance, the head of his dick stretching her. Damn, she was too old to get caught in such predicaments. Her heart was stampeding, and her ears were roaring so hard she wondered how Mr. Bowen hadn’t heard her.

In spite of everything, she couldn’t help but break into giggles. Judging by his expression and his curses, James didn’t find the situation so funny.

“Give me five minutes?” she mocked him in a whisper. “I really hope that didn’t mean you just need five minutes to fuck me. I’m not into light-speed wham bams. I kind of expected better from you.”