Beneath This Ink (Page 45)

Finding the scrubs and using them to cover my chest, I stood and pointed to the door. “So just go.”

I expected him to tuck his tail between his legs and skulk out of the room. Why? Because underestimating Con seemed to be a habit I couldn’t shake. I’d have to work on that.

His trademark smirk flashed on his lips. “I don’t think so, babe.”

I glared. “If you think this is still happening, then you’re insane.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“The mood—if there was one—is gone. I just want to take a shower and crawl in bed—by myself.”

“Too bad.” The smirk kicked up a notch, and I had to stifle the urge to smack it off his face.

“You’re such an asshole. Get. Out.” My voice rose this time, perilously close to a shriek. Didn’t care.

Con lunged, wrapped both arms around me, tossed me up and over his shoulder, and stepped into the hot spray of the shower.

“Ah!” This time, there was no question that the sound coming from my mouth was a shriek. It echoed off the glass and tile. The water beat down, plastering my hair to my face. In the manhandling, I’d dropped my bra and the top. My scrub bottoms were already soaked when Con slowly lowered me to my feet. I shoved against his chest as soon as I had my bearings. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m not letting you get away again. No matter how bad I fuck up.”

Shoving my hair away from my face, I stared up at Con’s earnest expression.

“I’m sorry,” he started. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I just—” He jammed his fingers into his wet hair. “I don’t give a fuck about stretch marks. I just couldn’t stand the thought of someone else…having you.” He turned away, facing into the pounding spray. “Fuck. That sounds insane. It is insane. Jesus. This can’t—”

I didn’t wait for him to finish. I slipped between Con and the tiled shower wall and dropped to my knees, soaked scrubs and all. I didn’t want to hear him say what this could or couldn’t be. I didn’t want limits. Didn’t want restrictions. For once in my life, I wanted no boundaries. No guidelines. No can’ts. I struggled with the button of his jeans, and his words dropped off.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Shut up,” I told him. It was exactly what I’d told him downstairs, when I’d had my first spur of boldness. It was time to follow through, and I wanted to be the aggressor. I wanted to take what I wanted without thinking.

I yanked at his zipper and tugged his jeans down his legs.

Hello.

The man went commando.

Con’s erection bounced as the sodden denim puddled on the floor.

And hello again.

My eyes widened. If I were a cartoon, they would have bulged right out of my head.

A silver ball winked from the top of the head of Con’s penis, and a matching ball glimmered directly on the other side.

“That’s new.” I wasn’t even aware I’d said the words out loud until a burst of Con’s laughter echoed in the shower.

“Is that gonna be a prob—”

Con’s words cut off, as though he’d been strangled, when I gripped the base of his shaft and licked him from root to tip, tonguing the bottom silver ball when I hit the head.

“Shit, woman.”

His thighs flexed, and I imagined that his knees went a little bit weak. I liked that idea.

You just want to be the woman to bring this man to his knees.

I didn’t deny the voice in my head, but I did wonder if I’d know what to do once I got him there. The vivid memories of that night played through my mind.

Yeah, I’ll know what to do when I get him there… but only because Con had taught me.

I closed my mouth over the head of his cock and played with the piercing before taking him deeper. His girth stretched the limits of my lips, and even with my hand holding the base, there was no way I’d be able to take the rest of him.

Con was…a big man. A really, really big man. Like the largest penis I’d ever seen in person or on internet porn. Not that a lady would ever admit to looking at such things. It wasn’t my fault that Elle had instituted a ‘dick of the day’ texting ritual.

Con’s hands found their way to my hair, and he smoothed it back, gripping the makeshift ponytail with his fist. My movements slowed as he cupped my cheek and guided me.

“Just like that, baby. Just like that.” He groaned. “Jesus fucking Christ. Yeahhh.” His hips surged forward, and his cock hit the back of my throat. Tears sprang to my eyes as I gagged.

Con slid out. “Sorry about that.”

I didn’t let him apologize any further.

“Shut up.”

“You seem to really like telling me that.”

“Only because you don’t seem to know when to be quiet.”

“Bossy.”

I tongued the head of his cock. “You have a problem with that?”

“You’ve got my dick in your mouth, princess. I don’t have a problem with any-damn-thing.”

Speaking of his dick in my mouth, I swallowed it down again. It became my personal mission: I was going to deep throat this man. My gag reflex would have to submit.

“Whoa, baby.” Rubbing his thumb along my cheek, he added, “You don’t have anything to prove.”

I always have something to prove. My eyes must have telegraphed my thoughts, because he smiled. “Type A. Goal-oriented.” He shook his head. “I should know better than to try to slow you down.”