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Authors: Jennifer Kacey

BOOK: Haleigh's Ink
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He still had sex with other women on occasion—licking some
pretty girl’s pussy while at The Library certainly wasn’t difficult. Kyle was
always there but he never participated. Not intimately. Scott owned Kyle, but
he’d always told him if there was someone else he wanted to be with then they
could make that happen. Kyle hadn’t ever taken him up on it, though. He told
Scott he liked to watch, so he could appreciate the pleasure instead of getting
lost in it.

Kyle was nothing short of perfection in Scott’s eyes, and
they were almost always on the same page. Sometimes he worried that one day
Kyle would find someone else, but he just shook off the worry and ordered Kyle
to his knees.

Their relationship was smoking hot, healthy and comfortable
in a way he hadn’t imagined he could have long-term.

But when he looked at Haleigh and noticed how her entire
demeanor had faltered as Kyle walked out the door, he got pissed off…at Kyle.

For the first time in his entire adult life he was lost, and
he would have traded his left nut to wipe the dejection from her worried
expression.

He’d walked in and had seen her standing there, so put
together, and he’d stereotyped her immediately. Now…he was pretty sure she had
skeletons in her closet that he might not be able to handle, and he could deal
with anything.

He said the first really off-the-wall thing that came to
mind, and said it loud to make sure she heard him. “You should get your clit
pierced too.”

She blinked and the realization of what he’d said kicked in.
Her jaw clenched tight. She scooted closer, which didn’t hurt his feelings at
all.

In a harsh whisper she asked, “What in heaven’s name
prompted you to suggest…that?”

“Riled” was a whole hell of a lot better than the
“heartbroken” she’d been rocking prior to his helpful recommendation. He kept
the last tidbit to himself. “Since you’re here, maybe you’d like to get the
Holy Trinity of female piercings. I’d throw in the clit piercing for free; you
know, like a new-customer incentive. Buy two, get one pretty pussy piercing for
free. It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

He moved closer, catching a piece of hair between his
fingers. It felt like the silk of her shirt and he wished for nothing more than
to bury his nose in it. He never took his eyes from her face, which had gone a
nice shade of pink. He yearned to see how far south the pink traveled.

“No, I do not believe it sounds nice,” she yelled then
twisted around, focusing on Oscar, who was bent over his customer still.

Her lids closed and he watched her mouth move as she counted
to ten silently. He grinned like a fool but wiped it away before she caught
him. She was probably embarrassed, thinking the guys behind them could hear him
talking about her clit.

What she didn’t understand was the guy on the table was
zoned out and he knew Oscar had his iPod blasting some alternative rock band.
Neither of them heard anything but he wasn’t ready to ruin his fun just yet. He
wanted to laugh and his sides hurt from holding it in. He decided he liked her
lively, not murderous. So he wouldn’t poke at her too much harder.

It was time to get down to business, and he was quite
skilled at closing the deal.

Chapter Three

 

“You
are
the one who called a couple hours ago,
right? All your questions concerned color tattoos from photographs?”

She knew he held back laughter but she remained quiet. It
took all her willpower to maintain the mask of tranquility bred into her from
birth. She glared at the pictures on the wall and took another sip of water,
trying to get her temper under control. All she wanted to do was bark at him.
She didn’t lose her temper—ever—and this man had already forced her to raise
her voice. And less than an hour ago she had poked him.

What was next? Hollering in the street? A bar fight? Good
gracious.

“Yes, that was me.”

“Then why are we discussing your nipples?”

She jacked her head to the side so fast the room spun, and
her mouth fell open, making a little “O”. She actually had to fight a smile. He
was flirting with her. He had moved closer still and she could see he had the
tiniest of creases fanning out from his eyes as he smiled at her.

“Do you have no shame? Sitting there, talking so boldly in
relation to my…my…” She gestured toward her breasts, unable to name the tight
tips while he focused on them.

“Nipples,” he offered unapologetically. “The term you are
searching for is nipples, and no, I don’t have an ounce of shame on me today.
Must be fresh out. So why the third degree on tattoos and now all the chitchat
about getting pierced?”

She didn’t answer right away. He raised his eyebrow
expectantly. Explaining to him wasn’t something she particularly wanted to do,
but she gazed up into his dark, amber-colored gaze and felt compelled to tell
him the truth. Common sense took a rain check to a need deep inside her. Her parents
always called her a people pleaser. It was a source of pride for them. She
hadn’t admitted it before but it made her feel like a doormat.

“Hello? Princess? Where’d you go?” He snapped his fingers in
front of her.

She blinked rapidly, struggling to focus. Heat crept up to
the tops of her ears, partly from being caught unaware and partly at her
reaction to the hand he rested on her neck. His warmth seeped beneath her
proverbial shield, under her skin, spreading pleasure all the way to her toes.
Scott didn’t strike her as the brand of person you should let your guard down
in front of. Something she unequivocally needed to remember.

She looked at his chest, cleared her throat and tried to get
her mind out of the gutter. “What? I’m sorry, what was the question?”

He rolled his eyes. “You spent a good fifteen minutes
grilling me on whether I was the one who specializes in recreating photographs
for color tats as well as black-and-white. I expected an elaborate photo of a
dog named Fifi, or some shit, that I was going to have to shrink to the size of
a fly on a gnat’s ass. But you show up, never mention getting ink, but want to
get your nipples pierced. What gives?”

He touched her hair, sifting through it, but his focus on
her was extreme and perceptive. It was as if he knew she held back. She felt
transparent, like the pane of glass her purse sat on. The need to be completely
honest reared its ugly head again.

She opened her mouth with the real reason she was there but
couldn’t get the words out. She panicked and said, “Changed my mind.” It
unfortunately came out like a question. Her nerves flared, making her whole
body shake. Her cup jerked, sloshing water, which ran along the flesh of her
arm.

She’d rather he assume she was a coward than grasp the real
reason she was there. The ink she was looking for on her chest was special, and
she’d be stupid if she spilled her guts to this man who already saw too much.
It was as if he saw
her
, and wasn’t that exactly what she’d been
wanting? Now, staring him in the face, she wasn’t so sure.

She brushed at the water mark on her skirt but not before
she saw Scott change. He didn’t puff up like a bodybuilder or snarl like a
rabid dog, but he changed nonetheless. His eyes narrowed. A muscle in his jaw
clenched and he relaxed it. His grip on her neck tightened enough to make her
aware of him on a primal level. No doubt he sensed she was lying. She expected
him to push her on the change. What scared her most was she had no question
she’d cave.

She’d tell him everything.

She would have to show him the scars eventually, but she
didn’t want to do it at the first visit. He’d look at her with pity just like
everyone else did. That’s why she’d decided to get her nipple pierced first,
let it heal and then come back for the rest. Just thinking about watching the
dawning of realization on his face made her look for a hole to crawl into. The
same bottomless one she’d been hiding in.

“Well, if you’re done stalling, I can finish your paperwork
on the piercings. Ready?”

The breath she’d been holding left her in an audible rush.
She tried to keep it quiet but there was no doubt he heard that too.

He had let the question go and was trying to be nice about
it. She didn’t understand how she knew but it had cost him something to allow
the brush-off to stand. She was grateful for his discretion and took a calming
breath. He stood and held his palm out for her.

Not trusting her voice to be steady, she merely nodded as
she took his hand and followed him to the counter. All of a sudden he’d
switched from being rude and condescending to trying to be a protector. She
didn’t understand it, but somehow it made sense.

He was beautiful in a fully dominant male way and he moved
with an ease in his own body she could only wish for. She tried to calm her
nerves as he stepped behind the display case again.

Falling for her once-upon-a-time-best-friend’s boyfriend
would totally put a capper on an already horrible few years.

He grabbed a consent form, sliding it across the glass.
“This goes over what you’re having done and what a kick-ass job I’m going to
do, but if I screw up you can’t sue me or my establishment.” He flashed her a
cocky grin. “And this one here is your aftercare instructions. Don’t get drunk
and go skinny-dipping in the lake. Don’t change your rings for at least six
weeks. If you have any trouble, go to the emergency room. Clean your nipples
with antibacterial soap, etc., etc.” He placed the paper underneath the first
one lying in front of her. “I’ll go get set up and lay all the supplies out.
That will give you a minute to sneak out the door if your inner chicken screams
for you to run. Any questions?”

He turned to go without waiting for an answer, but then
paused as she asked, “Is he happy?”

She expected to have to explain but he understood. “I think
so but he doesn’t have a lot of support since he’s not…out of the closet, if
you know what I mean.”

“I wish he’d told me. We’d known each other since we were in
grade school. We were so close growing up. He was my best friend, like a
brother, but closer really. He left and it crushed me. I knew something was
going on but I figured he would talk to me when he was ready.” Haleigh tried to
hide her sadness, running her fingers over the ink on the paper. “‘Ready’ never
happened though, and then…” Her eyes darted to his, then quickly away. “Things
changed.”

“Do you still love him?”

Haleigh focused on the paper and answered truthfully because
lying to him again seemed like drawing a line in the sand she couldn’t erase.
“I’ve loved him for so long I don’t remember a time he didn’t live in my heart.
He’s family. He left—doesn’t mean my love disappeared with him. Maybe it did
for him, but not for me.”

She clicked the end of the pen, signed both forms and pushed
them across the glass over to Scott.

 

“No mad dash for the door?”

She laid her wadded-up money on the counter, trying to
smooth it out. The gesture was endearing, causing warmth to glow inside his
chest. He clenched his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her. He’d
sworn off the richy girls more than a decade before. Staying on the other end
of the vanilla line had served him well, and was the main reason he’d been such
a dick to her earlier.

“I’m ready.” She looked him square in the eye.

He liked submissive partners. Craved their submission like
he needed air, but to convince someone to submit who wouldn’t normally do it?
It was amazing, and the lovely princess standing in front of him had quite a
bit of steel in her spine. Hearing her pant initially when he was kissing Kyle
fired his blood. Seeing the tremor of desire she kept trying to hide racing
beneath her skin jacked him into full take-over-and-conquer mode. If she ever
submitted, it would blow his mind.

He cleared his throat, convincing himself he didn’t need to
hold his breath. “Come with me.” He motioned her forward, deliberately not
taking her hand, since he’d liked it too much. He opened the door and hit the
switch on the wall.

The overhead light reflected off the black vinyl piercing
chair across the room.

He opened a few of the floor-to-ceiling cabinets, setting
the supplies he needed on a rolling tray. “Close the door and have a seat.”

Haleigh jumped at the sound of his voice. She followed his
instructions, allowing the decadent tension between them to pulse harder since
they were finally alone.

“Are you a virgin?” he asked while rifling through the
sterile plastic packs of nipple rings, searching for the right size.

“Excuse me?” she gasped and he distinctly heard her purse
smack the floor next to the chair.

“You know…a virgin,” he said casually. He glanced around the
open cabinet door. Her mouth hung open. “As in…do you still have your cherry? I
more than like the idea of being the one to take it from you.”

“Of all the rude things… What does my being a virgin have to
do with you piercing my nipples? Is this some rude question-and-answer session
I wasn’t informed about? It wasn’t on the consent forms I signed.”

“Hold up.” He grabbed the lip of the shelf to steady
himself. His control was already shot to hell, making the hard-on pounding
inside his jeans impossible to conceal. “Are you telling me you’re a virgin? As
in a real virgin? Like, you’ve never had sex before? Ever?” He stood between
her and the door or she would have stormed out right then and there. He was
sure of it.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes I am, you jerk.
And why are you asking like the question didn’t fly past your lips a minute
ago? Of all the nerve…” she mumbled as she bent to grab her purse.

“Good lord, woman. I wanted to make sure you didn’t have any
other piercings or tattoos I couldn’t see. I was making conversation…now you
drop a bomb like being a virgin on me. Jesus.” He finally looked at her and had
to call on years of training to stop cum from erupting from his cock. Haleigh
was on her knees, shoving things into her bag, glaring at him.

A vision of her bound naked at his feet, wearing nothing but
his collar, slammed him in the back of his skull. The picture superimposed
itself over real life and time stopped.

Her reddened ass resting on her heels with her thighs spread
wide. Ligature marks formed from a chest harness digging and squeezing her
torso. Her shoulders strained, due to the tie binding her elbows behind her.
The futomomo binding her leg back on itself until her heel touched the lower
curve of her ass… His nostrils flared.

His dick pounded at the mere suggestion of her beneath him.

Trusting him.

Bound by him.

Her hair brushing against her shoulders, her spine arched
and her breasts thrust forward with her chin defiantly raised. He vowed he
would see that or die trying. Imagining being the one to claim her made him
steel-hard. His body and mind prepared to get inside her from every angle.

She stood and he finally blinked, breaking the spell. He
focused on anything but her, struggling to find his control.

“And no, I don’t have any tattoos or piercings, and from
what I can see you don’t either. Where do you get off being all high and mighty
about what I do or do not have?”

Without a shy bone, he turned, stripping his t-shirt off.
Her gasp broke the momentary calm in the room. Not the reaction he looked for
from the woman he fantasized about fucking, but not anywhere close to the only
time he’d freaked people out with his artwork either. He remained quiet and let
her ogle, having no intention of getting into any kind of private Oprah moment.
He loved his ink. It was his and his alone. He had his reasons for it and
didn’t have to explain the whys to anyone.

He didn’t want to dig into the reasoning behind it, but he
cared what
she
thought. He hadn’t cared in…ever since Kyle saw it for
the first time. Imagine that. He screwed his jaw down until his teeth
threatened to crack.

He never heard her approach until the soft flesh of her palm
made contact with his waist.

He stiffened, already hearing her condemnation. He’d heard
it all. Being called a pussy on one end of the spectrum, all the way to a
sadistic bastard.

But with Haleigh it didn’t come. Nothing verbal passed
between them. Only her simple caress. Yet something happened. He followed her
progress, knowing instinctively what she touched. She brushed along the feet
dripping blood to the cloth, and the wood, and then the wings unfolding across
his shoulders.

His skin warmed beneath the gentle glide of her hand and he
had to swallow a groan as she caressed along his arm, twisting him around.

He had no ink on the rest of his torso, but pierced nipples,
which she lusted after, licking her lips. He tightened his fists, fighting the
urge to grab her and consume every inch of her.

“Your tattoo?” she asked, still running her fingers across
his ribs. “A brother?” She didn’t say anything else. Just waited.

“It looks like me.”

“But it’s not you.” She whispered it, as if it were a secret
to be shared between them.

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