“I haven’t heard it yet. Turn it up a little?” I stepped around the sofa then sat down on one end, my eyes drifting over Chelsea.
The woman always looked put together. She never had to try, but tonight I think she had. Her hair was down in perfect waves, like she’d just gotten back from the beach. Her skin was bright and flawless, covering up the freckles I had already fallen a little bit in love with. Her sleeveless dress was short and flowy with thin white-and-tan stripes running horizontally from top to bottom. Each of her ears held a small diamond, bright enough to catch my eye but small enough to pull my focus back to her beautiful face. After spending months dating thirty women, all with personal care teams ensuring their makeup was packed on for the cameras, Chelsea was more than a breath of fresh air.
Chelsea took a sip of her water and set it down on the coffee table before turning around to face me. She looked unsure of what to do next but took a seat in the small chair adjacent to me. I wanted to cut through her thoughts for fear she would talk herself out of whatever could happen tonight.
“How is your book coming along?”
I loved the way her eyes lit when I asked her about her passion. Her cheeks pinked slightly, too, and I knew she was excited to talk about it.
“Good. I’ve written a lot this week. The whole story is coming together. Oh, and the story I submitted to my editor is due back to me tomorrow.”
“Can I read more? The sexy bits, perhaps?”
Her blush deepened, and she let out a breathy laugh. “I don’t think I could look at you ever again if you did.”
It was my turn to laugh. “But you’ll publish it for the world to read? What would stop me from picking it up and reading it?”
Her smile was infectious. “Nothing, I guess. But by then it’s already out there, no take-backs.”
She was afraid of her own passion, which for some reason, was overwhelmingly endearing to me. I decided to shift the subject. I would love to read whatever came out of Chelsea’s brain but only when she was ready.
“So, what happens when you get your edits back? How long until you publish?”
She talked fast through the rest of the editing process, how she would go about getting a cover created, and how everything combined could take weeks before she could actually hit publish. I was fascinated with how much she knew and how familiar her process was to that of any entrepreneur.
“What about you?” she asked when she was done. “Have you given more thought to what your next move will be after you get back to London?”
“I’ve thought about it a lot actually.” I adjusted my position on the couch, wishing I had a better answer for her. “I still love to swim, and I really enjoy coaching Brendan on his technique. I’ve thought about teaching or becoming a private instructor. I’ve also thought about starting a tattoo shop somewhere.”
I shrugged, knowing my last thought was silly. I couldn’t even look at Chelsea as I said it out loud, but when I looked back up at her, her expression made me feel the opposite of silly. I hadn’t told anyone else about the dreams I’d been having lately to own my own small business, most of which had been inspired just by being in Providence. I loved the thought of walking to a small shop downtown where my regulars would come for me to draw up artwork for them and get tattooed.
“I think both of those ideas sound perfect for you, Liam. Much different than banking on money from being a social media influencer. Are you ready for the change?”
I swallowed. Hadn’t I asked myself the same questions a million times over the past two weeks? “I’m ready to feel fulfilled, so yes, I’m ready for the change.” My eyes drifted over her again, my heart quickening in my chest. “I’m ready for a lot of changes.”
Suddenly the distance between us was too much. Why was she sitting so far away?
“Have you thought more about getting a tattoo?” I didn’t want to assume she still loved the one I’d drawn for her.
She smiled. “I don’t know. The temporary still looks pretty good.”
My eyes widened, and my trousers tightened. “Can I see it?” I spit the question out without actually thinking about the words first. Chelsea was wearing a dress, which meant if I were to get a peek at it, she would have to—
“Sure.” Chelsea rose from her chair and took a couple of steps toward me.
Her shiny and tan legs were right in front of me when I forced my gaze to slide up her body to meet her eyes. “What? Really?”
She shrugged. “I mean, you’ve seen me in a bathing suit already, and you were there when I got it.” She smiled as she took in my reaction. “Unless you don’t want to look under my dress. I won’t force you.”
Panic seized my chest, and my hands practically leapt to her body, gripping behind her knees to keep her steady. If she walked away from me right then, I might weep. “Oh, I’ll do it. I just wanted to make absolutely sure I understood what you were offering.”
Before I could say another word, Chelsea gripped the bottom of her dress in both hands and started to slowly pull it up. Inch by inch, my gaze followed the movement. Out of all the experiences I’d had in my life, this was definitely the most erotic.
She halted just before the reveal. My mind had been spinning, trying to guess the color of her panties. When she didn’t go farther, I looked up into her eyes again and watched her take her next deep breath.
It was like she wanted to be brave but faltered slightly. That breath signaled a line we had yet to cross, a line she was less than an inch from letting me explore. This time, I wasn’t walking away from the opportunity.
Her body shifted slightly, and I realized she was lifting her arms again. The anticipation would kill me. I hadn’t even glanced back down yet, and I was already harder than I’d ever been in my life.
My gaze fell to find silk black panties, the waistband of them thick so only the top of the tattoo peeked out over the fabric. An internal growl ripped through me, my hunger for this woman on a completely new level. Something beastly was set to emerge, and I had no idea how I would control it.
Without thinking, I moved my hands up her silky-smooth legs. I had to bite my bottom lip in an attempt to contain the trouser snake below my waist. When I reached her panties, I let one hand drift to the top of her waistline before I made eye contact with her again. “May I?”
She nodded, her smile gone but her shallow breathing an acceptable indication of my welcoming touch. I swallowed and focused on the little ink I could see of the tattoo. I pulled one side of her panties down over her hip so I could get a full glimpse of my creation tattooed on the woman in front of me.
I moved with instinct, tracing over the tattoo as I remembered how fast my hand had moved that day. With Chelsea as my inspiration and with my passion for art and ink as my guide, it had come together like magic. As I looked at it now, no words could describe the emotions swirling inside of me.
“You’re right,” I said, my voice low. “It still looks good.” I continued to trace the design down to the bottom, where I knew I was coming close to another part of Chelsea I so desperately wanted to see.
My finger slipped below the fabric, dragging along her skin and moving farther away from the tattoo. It was a tease, a question, and when Chelsea didn’t flinch or jerk away, I looked up to find her eyes falling closed.