Epoch (Transcend Duet #2)(58)

“Can I talk you into sitting on my sofa?” He stood, holding out his hand.

I rubbed the rim of the wine glass over my bottom lip. “Is there something special about your sofa?”

“It’s more comfortable than these old wooden chairs.”

“Are you inviting me to get comfortable?” I grinned, trying to be flirty, but … man oh man I was so nervous. Third date and no kiss. In all fairness, it was our first evening date. The other two had been quick meals over his lunch break.

Three dates in three weeks, but we texted every day. Lots of texts about the most random stuff.

Griffin: Strawberries are on sale. Do you like strawberries?

Me: I cut my sandwiches diagonally. Do you cut your sandwiches in half?

Griffin: Going to the speedway with some friends. Do you bat your eyelashes to get out of speeding tickets?

Me: Never do a vinegar rinse after shaving your legs.

Griffin: Getting another tattoo.

Me: Sparrow. The name of the new girl in my barre class. Parents are stupid.

“Yes. I’m inviting you to get more comfortable.”

I placed my hand in his hand. It fit. It felt right. No, it felt perfect.

“So how many tattoos do you have?”

“Quite a few.”

We sat on the sofa. A small grin tugged at his lips when I left a full cushion between us. My nerves were firing on all cylinders. There was a hundred percent chance of me whimpering if our bodies got too close.

“You don’t keep count?”

“Nope.”

“Do you have a favorite one?”

“The dragon.”

My gaze inspected the tattoos on his arms.

“I’m wearing too many clothes for you to see it.”

Heat crawled up my neck and in lower places as well.

“Do you have any ink?”

I shook my head. “Just a birthmark.”

His gaze made a quick inspection of me.

I grinned. “I’m wearing too many clothes for you to see it.”

“Cute.” He leaned back in the opposite corner, crossing his inked arms over his chest. “I know what you’re doing. And it’s not going to work. I’m not that easy.”

“What am I doing?” I chuckled.

“You’re pretending you have a birthmark so I’ll agree to show you my dragon if you show me your birthmark. And only after I’m standing in front of you, completely naked, will you reveal that it’s not really a birthmark, just an odd-shaped mole. No …” He shook his head. “I’m not falling for that. If you want me naked, you’re going to have to show me the birthmark first.”

Amusement.

Shock.

Embarrassment.

And need.

They all hit me at once. Griffin wasn’t just a flirt. He was good … really really good.

I swallowed hard. All that my brain made sense of in that moment was a simple exchange. Me lifting my shirt a few inches in exchange for him getting naked. I needed to see the dragon. After all, it was his favorite tattoo, and who doesn’t like dragons?

“It’s not an odd-shaped mole.” I leaned back in my corner of the sofa and slid up my T-shirt.

Griffin’s tongue made a lazy swipe along his bottom lip. I rubbed my lips together, hoping, praying that said lips would get to press to his mouth soon. We were on date three, but all the random texts made me feel like I knew him more like an eighth date. My body just wanted to catch up to my mind.

“That’s quite the birthmark. I can’t see the whole thing.” His gaze flit to mine, eyes gleaming with this sexy challenge.

My shirt was tucked up just to the bottom edge of my bra, but the birthmark extended a half inch to the underside of my left breast.

“I’d have to remove my bra.” I faked confidence. Like no big deal.

He glanced at the nonexistent watch on his wrist. “I don’t have any plans for a while. I’ve got time. Do you?”

“We haven’t kissed, but you want me to take off my bra for you?”

He smirked. “Swayz, you make it sound like a strip tease. I just want to see all of your birthmark before I show you my dragon.”

I scraped my teeth along my lower lip, eyeing his tight sexy graphic tee and muscular legs clad in worn denim. Sinewy, inked arms. Shaven head. At least two days’ worth of stubble along his jaw.

Sitting up, I inched my shirt off, the rush of adrenaline obvious in the exaggerated rise and fall of my chest.

Griffin’s Adam’s apple bobbed just before his lips parted.

“Here.” I slid the bottom of my bra up just enough to show him where my birthmark ended.

“That’s a sexy birthmark.”

I slid my bra back down. “It’s no dragon.”

His grin grew so big I felt it along every inch of my skin, but nowhere did I feel it stronger than the heavy pulse between my legs.

In one full motion, he stood and shrugged off his shirt. I swallowed back my whimper and squeezed my legs together.

He turned, showing me his back and the dragon that started midway and off to one side. I tried to speak, but he unfastened his jeans, leaving me fumbling for a single coherent thought.

Gulp.

Granted his back was to me, but … but … butt!

Sigh. Drool. Whimper.