Page 68 of I Am Sin

She doesn’t reply. Instead, she shoves my jacket over my shoulders, and it falls to the floor. Then she pulls my T-shirt up, exposing my chest and pierced nipples.

She sucks in a breath. “Oh my God.”

I’m not sure what to say to that. I’ve had this tattoo for over ten years. It took five different sessions with the artist. Soaring across my chest is a glittering gold-and-green dragon, with touches of red on the tail and the eyes.

My nipple rings are simple silver bars.

She traces the dragon with her fingers, and when her fingernails scrape over my nipples, they harden further.

“Who did this?” she asks.

“A guy in Barrel Oaks.”

“Not Cy in Snow Creek?”

“Nope. A guy who works out of his home over in Barrel Oaks. I did some handyman work for him one time, and this is how he paid me.”

“Amazing.” She takes a step back and takes the whole thing in. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

My guess is she’s never seen any man with his entire chest tattooed.

But I don’t say that.

“How did I not know about this?” she asks.

I shrug. “It doesn’t really come up in conversation. Anybody ask you aboutyourtattoos?”

She bites her lip. “I don’t have any.”

I smirk. “There you go.”

She takes a step forward and wraps her hands around my waist. “I guess I’ve never seen you without a shirt. Never at a pool or anything.”

“We don’t exactly run in the same circles, Diana.”

She twists her lips into a frown, and God, she’s still beautiful. “I didn’t mean to imply?—”

I shake my head. “Of course you didn’t. No offense taken. I haven’t exactly been invited to any Steel pool parties. The only time I’m at your place is when the band performs.”

“Do you have any other work?”

“No.”

It’s a lie, of course. I have a griffin on the back of my thigh, in a place I can’t see it. But I know it’s there.

She doesn’t ask about the meaning of the dragon. Why should she? It’s my name, so it’s pretty self-explanatory.

But if I tell her about the griffin, she’ll ask why. That’s not a story I’m ready to tell.

Especially not to Diana Steel.

I’m about ready to open my mouth and tell her I need to go now when?—

I groan when she flicks her tongue over one of my nipples.

“God,” I growl.

“I’ve never seen a man with pierced nipples before.” She slides her tongue over the other one. “In pictures, of course, but never in real life.”