Full Contact
Page 55

 Sarah Castille

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“I’m thinking that’s going to be more for your benefit than mine. And there’s no way I’m stripping down in the studio or doing a tat from your lap.”
He lifts my shirt and presses a warm kiss to my stomach. “We’ll see.”
Half an hour later, after securing the door and sending Jess an apologetic text, I’m still clothed, but straddling Ray’s lap on my client chair with the tattoo machine in my hand.
“This is so unprofessional,” I say after I put away the disinfectant. “I can’t believe the things you talk me into.”
He cups my breast in his palm over my T-shirt and licks his lips. “If I remember correctly, I didn’t have to talk.”
My cheeks burn at his reference to our moment in the staff room when he kissed me so hard my knees went weak and I moaned into his mouth.
“Yeah,” he says, his voice soft. “She knows what I’m talking about.”
Despite Ray’s protests, I have plugged my iPod into the sound system and the first mix starts off with Coldplay’s “Viva La Vida.”
“Christ.” Ray grimaces. “You sure know how to take a mood down. You got any hard rock? Linkin Park? Isn’t the client supposed to choose?”
“I’m sitting on your lap,” I say with a little grind over the bulge in his jeans for effect. “I’m also working instead of going out with my bestie. You’ve pretty much gotten everything you want from me. Is it too much to ask for a little musical indulgence?”
His hooded gaze rakes over my body. “Maybe if I were inside you—”
“Seriously?” I hold up the tattoo machine. “The tat is forever. If I slip up, it is a permanent mistake. I don’t want to do that to you. Also, you know it can be painful. You might not be able to…you know…keep it up.”
He lifts an admonishing eyebrow.
“Okay. I take it back. You are all lion all the time. But I have to draw the line at having sex while doing a tat.”
“Fine. I’ll give you a break.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Pleasure.”
“You probably already know this,” I say, “but the shading can be much more painful than the outline, so let me know if you need a break.”
He raises his eyebrow again, higher this time.
“Right. Forgot you are too manly to feel pain, just like every man who comes in here. However, when the pain overrides your pride, let me know.” Taking a deep breath, I try to ignore his cock pressed up against the curve of my sex, his body warm beneath me, and his hand caressing my breast as I begin shading. I manage to relax into the design and listen to the music, but after ten minutes of silence, I sigh.
“We call clients who don’t talk cadavers.”
“Can’t talk.” Ray’s voice is husky and low. “It’s taking all my energy not to rip off your clothes and fuck you till you scream.”
“Don’t hold back.” My voice drips with sarcasm. “Tell me what you really want to do.” I wiggle on top of him. He is indeed harder than when I started. I wiggle again. Ray groans.
“Stop. I’m barely hanging on.”
“This was your idea.” I look up and grin. “And FYI, I’m going to be at least another hour.”
He grits his teeth and nods. “Go for it, but don’t move.”
But it is almost impossible not to move. Inking skin is, by its nature, an intimate experience, but with Ray it goes beyond intimate into the divine. In this position, with one hand braced on his chest, I can feel every beat of his heart, hear every rasp of his breath, soak in his warmth as I inhale the scent of fresh ink and the musk of Ray’s skin.
“Sia.” My name is a tortured groan on his lips, and when I look up, I see both pain and pleasure etched across his face.
“You need a moment?”
He shakes his head and strokes his hand through my hair, a gentle, caressing gesture that turns my body liquid.
“If it hurts…” My words trail off when he tightens his hand in my hair.
“Like to hurt. Need to hurt. But when you’re doing the hurting…” His voice breaks. “Hard to stay in control. Just…finish it.”
So I do. I pour my soul into his tat, sweeping the wolf down his shoulder and over his pec. Although I usually prefer color to semi-tribals like this one, I think it is one of the best tats I have ever done. I show Ray in the mirror and he nods his approval. “Fucking awesome.”
After I’ve bandaged the tat, I sit back and give him a questioning glance. He has been so quiet, his body so tense… “You okay?”
He rubs his thumb along my bottom lip and groans. Taking a hint, I draw his thumb into mouth, wrap my lips around it, and suck, tasting Ray on my tongue.
“Christ. I can’t…” He eases me off his lap and then slides out of the chair, his body tense, quivering, as if he’s fighting for control. A tiny shiver winds its way down my spine when I glance at his face. It’s a cold, hard mask of concentration without the usual warmth I see when we’re together.
“Ray?”
He seats himself on my artist’s chair and grabs my hips, pulling me until I’m standing between his spread legs. Then he pulls me down, urging me lower until I’m kneeling in front of him.
“Suck me, beautiful girl. Show me what else those sweet lips can do.”
Oh God. That voice. Commanding. Sexy. Utterly dominant. My body tightens, need curling deep in my core.