Get Inked: A Pucked Series and Clipped Wings Crossover Novella (Pucked #5.5)(9)

I slide my hands up the outside of her thighs, feeling the raised scar on her leg from the accident she was in before we met. Pulling her even closer to the edge, I reverse the motion until the crook of my arms meets the back of her knees. “This okay?”

She nods and pulls her knees up higher so her toes touch the counter.

“You sure? It’s not uncomfortable?”

“It’s perfect, and it’ll be so much better when you really start moving.”

So I do, with long, slow strokes we can both watch thanks to her angle and the way I keep her open for me. She slips two fingers into her mouth, then lowers them, rubbing circles on her clit that pick up speed as I do.

The pulse of her orgasm hits me as she lets out a soft moan, and then I come, hard and fast, pulling her tight against me while my vision blurs and sensation rules my world for a few seconds.

When I can do more than just feel again, I ease her legs down slowly, one at a time, and then massage her hips while I kiss her. I’m still inside, because I’m still half hard, and she’s warm and snug. If it wasn’t already after nine thirty, I might consider taking her back up to bed for another round, but I seriously need to get to the shop.

I need time before my consult to get my head in the game. While I may have put Randy’s sleeve on him, that’s a lot different than having the entire Inked Armor team work on him and a group of his friends.

Tenley doesn’t bother to put her tank back on since I’ve used it as a towel. She runs off to the bathroom, a slight hitch in her step, probably from being in that cramped position for as long as I had her. I used to feel guilty whenever she limped after sex, or anytime really, but I understand now that it’s residual from the accident, and it’ll always be that way, no matter how gentle or not gentle I am.

I wash my face and hands in the sink, getting soap in my mouth in the process. It’s better than me smelling like my girlfriend’s *, though. I root through the silverware drawer for a knife and use it to slather two cupcakes in icing while Tenley’s still in the bathroom.

I peel the wrapper off the first one and take a huge bite, chewing a couple of times before I shove the rest in. They’re the best when they’re still warm. Tenley comes back—wearing an entirely new outfit—just as I start on cupcake number two.

“Hayden!”

“What? I’m hungry,” I tell her through a mouthful. I doubt she can understand me, but when it comes to cupcakes, I don’t think I really need to explain.

“It’s too early to eat these!” she scolds.

“It’s never too early for cupcakes.” I take another giant bite and lean it to kiss her, but she puts a hand in front of my face to prevent me from getting too close.

“Finish chewing first, please.”

I do as she asks and go so far as to pour myself a glass of water to wash it all down. Then I go in for the kiss I want. I throw in a little tongue just because. “Come by the shop when you’re done with this, and I’ll introduce you to Randy.”

“Okay. Do you have a full schedule today?”

“Nope. Just the consult and a couple of sketches to get ready for tomorrow.”

She puts her hands on my chest. “So I can have you to myself later?”

“If that’s what you want, kitten.”

She rises up on her toes and kisses the bottom of my chin. “Yes, please.”

I leave before I get another hard-on, which happens often, and head to the shop.

*

Lisa, our piercer and bookkeeper, is already there when I arrive. Her lavender hair is pulled up into a complicated ponytail. It makes her look like she just stepped off the set of Leave it to Beaver. Her dress, which is also lavender, looks like it’s from that era as well. The combat boots and tattoos make her look badass, though.

She points her pen at the clock over her head; it’s already ten. “I thought you said you’d be here at nine thirty.”

“I got distracted.”

“Did you now? Does she happen to be five two with dark hair and a thing for baking cupcakes?”

I give her a look, but don’t bother to respond. Tenley’s always my number one distraction.

Chris, my business partner and one of the other tattoo artists, comes out of the private room with a stack of folders. “Finally decided to show up, huh?”

“Why’re you here this early?”

“Because you said you were coming in to show Ballistic the designs, and since I’ll be working on more than one of those guys, I figured it’d be good to be here in case he has any questions about the ones I sketched.”

“But the rest of the guys from the team aren’t coming in for at least a couple of weeks.”

Chris shrugs. “I just wanna be prepared. It’s kind of a big deal to be working on these guys.”

He’s got a point. I’ve done Randy’s sleeve, and Chris has put a couple of pieces on Waters, the team captain, but now we’re designing tattoos that are variations on a similar theme, and Chris will be modifying a design that’s already on Waters’ arm. It’s a cool project, and it’ll be even cooler when we have five different pieces on five different NHL players. We’re also pulling in Jamie, the third tattooist in the shop, to work on one of the guys.

“Tenley’s coming by later,” I tell Lisa as I pass the folder of preliminary designs over to Chris.