Page 28 of Close Your Eyes

Font Size:

Page 28 of Close Your Eyes

My heart is in my throat. My skin’s on fire.

He keeps going, unbuttoning each button at an agonizingly slow speed. “Is this what you want?” his deep voice husks out. It’s throaty. Needy. He sounds as desperate as I feel, and he raises a dark brow.

His chiseled jaw is set in stone, giving nothing away as to how this is affecting him. His deft fingers make quick work of the last few buttons, and a glorious masterpiece peeks at me from behind the white material.

He pushes the shirt off his shoulders, and it falls in a silent heap to the floor.

Wow.

I’m breathless.

I’m left here, gawking at so much skin covered in ink. I rise from the couch slowly, inching my way closer. I stare at his tattoos. The skull covering his right pec, and the heart on his left. I move as if on autopilot, closer to him, in a trance from all the ink.

“You designed these?” I ask in a breathy whisper.

He glances at the ink sprawled all over his skin and back at me. “Yeah.”

I’m standing so close to him that I could reach out and touch him. God, I want to touch him. I want to trace my finger over the black lines of each drawing. I want to lick a path from his navel to his neck.

I’m so turned on I feel faint. I wonder if he’d catch me if I went down. Would he put his hands on me?

Would he revive me with a kiss?

I’ve never wished for anything more than I wish for that right now.

I need to touch him. It starts as this thought that radiates out to my fingertips, my muscle memory taking over as I raise my hand, my mouth growing incredibly dry.

With a snap, he catches my wrist in his hand, his eyes boring into mine. “Posey,” he breathes.

Will he kiss me?

Please.

My body’s numb.

There’s a knock at the door, jolting me in my spot, and Ledger drops my hand. He’s already putting his shirt back on as I try to shake myself out of this spell he has me under. He moves quickly to answer the door, and I spin slowly to see who’s there.

“You ready?” Lazarus spits out as soon as he sees me.

Ledger steps in front of me. “I’ll walk her out of the club,” he says as if he doesn’t trust anyone else with the job.

Lazarus wrinkles his nose in disdain, but growls out a begrudging, “Fine.”

I follow as Ledger leads me out of the room and down a long hallway. He places his hand at the small of my back, and I hate that it makes my skin prickle with heat.

We move through the club without a word, and I give him a tiny wave goodbye as he watches me climb into the back of a Range Rover.

The door slams, and I know he can no longer see me through the dark tint of the window. Even though he never turns away.

He stands on guard, watching the car pull away from the club. My phone vibrates from my purse a few minutes later, and I pull it out, staring at the message from Ledger.

Your turn.

I study the message, wondering what he could mean. Does he want to see tattoos covering my body? I don’t have any to show him.

Or does he want something else? Something that makes me vulnerable to him like he was to me earlier?

It was never about seeing him without a shirt. That was just a bonus. It was about seeing his artwork. A piece of him he doesn’t share with others.




Top Books !
More Top Books

Treanding Books !
More Treanding Books