Beneath This Ink (Beneath #2)(55)

None of this makes any sense. I shouldn’t be here. But there’s nowhere else I wanted to be.

What the hell did that mean for us?

When she’d stepped back into my life, I’d seized the moment. I’d carpe’d the f*cking diem. I’d gone after the opportunity that had slipped away from me and put the mystery to rest. And now? I wasn’t sure where to go next.

My life didn’t allow for complications. I wasn’t going to drag her down into the darkness where I’d spent the last few years.

A darkness that was growing.

Because now I wanted to track down the f*cker who’d pulled a gun on my woman and shot at her. What was one more to add to my prospective body count? Hennessy could read me all too well, because when he’d stopped in here today to give me an update on Trey, he’d asked what my plans were. The update, while appreciated, was one I didn’t really need because I’d already been to the hospital and gotten one myself just as soon as I’d dropped Vanessa off a couple blocks from home. I’d continued to call the hospital on the hour to see if there was any change in his condition. And Hennessy’s question about my plans? I’d punted on that one. Said the right things. Hell, I might’ve even said, I’ll let the law handle that one. I’m sure Hennessy knew I was full of shit.

But what could the man really do about it? Not a damn thing.

Back to the sleeping woman in my bed. I tried not to read too much into the fact that she wasn’t sleeping on my couch. For some reason, the fact that she was in my bed seemed so much more personal. So much…just more.

That is such a chick thought. I shrugged it off and stripped out of my clothes. A quick shower, and I was crawling into bed beside her. Two nights with her in my arms was a bad idea. It was the kind of thing I could get used to, and then once I handed over that deed, she’d be gone, and I’d be back to my one night, hit-it-and-quit-it lifestyle.

It sounded so unappetizing when compared to this warm, gorgeous woman in my bed.

But was there really any alternative? Realistically, this was going nowhere. I’d asked her for my shot. And I’d gotten it. I hadn’t thought beyond that. Didn’t have a plan.

I thought of the deed I’d had my lawyer draft the day after the Boys and Girls Club dinner. It was practically burning a hole in the drawer of my desk in the break room.

A better man would…

“Con?” A sleepy voice cut into my thoughts as Vanessa rolled to face me. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

The question was so goddamn domestic, like something a wife would ask her husband when he came home after a late night out and she couldn’t quite stay up until he got in. I squeezed my eyes shut for a beat. Just one more thing I liked too much.

“I think I did just wake you, babe.”

She snuggled in to my chest, still half asleep. “You smell good.”

“That’s what happens when you shower.”

“Mmmmm.” She pressed a kiss between my pecs, and her clever little tongue reached out to flick my nipple.

“Whoa, honey. What’re you doin’?”

Her voice husky with sleep, she said, “What does it look like?” Her sharp little teeth caught my nipple and tugged.

“You need to sleep.”

A small hand connected with my shoulder, shoving me to my back. “Don’t tell me what I need. Too many people tell me what I need. No one ever asks me what I want.”

I laced my hands behind my head and nodded down to my body. “Then take what you want. What you need. Only a stupid man would stop you.”

She didn’t look at me when she asked, “And you’re not a stupid man?”

“Not tonight I’m not. Tomorrow could be a different story.” And it could be. Because tomorrow I was due to make some decisions. Figure out exactly where this thing was going—and when I was going to end it. But for tonight, I’d take pleasure in being what she needed.

“At least you’re honest.”

Not hardly.

Vanessa made quick work of peeling off her dress, and the bra and underwear beneath it. Caught up in her creamy, unmarked skin, my fingers ached to reach up and cover her breasts. But I kept them where they were, eager to see how she’d take the reins.

I didn’t have to wait long. She dragged the boxers I’d planned to sleep in down my legs and tossed them to the floor. Her hands went directly to my cock, and my groan filled the room.

If I’d thought her hands were clever before, they were f*cking genius now. One cupped my balls and the other gripped my shaft.

She lowered her head so her lips hovered directly over my cock. Just another inch, sweetheart.

A flick of her tongue across my apadravya dragged a groan from me. “Did this hurt?” The whisper of her breath across the head of my dick stole my thoughts.

“What?”

“The piercing. Did it hurt?”

“Not as bad as you’d think. Why?” I didn’t know why I asked the question. I should just want her to move along to the enthusiastic, dick-sucking portion of the entertainment, but this was about her. Not me.

“Just wondering. Because…” Her tongue flicked out again at the piercing.

Fuck. I fought to follow the conversation. “Because what?”

“Because I’m glad you did it. It feels really, really good.” She lifted and repositioned herself so she was straddling me.