Ink Lust by Jayne Kingston Page B

trouble getting women to take their shirts off for you.”
    “Again with the emphasis on the right women.” He looked at her finally and won himself lots of points for looking right at her eyes without detouring to her chest even though she was standing there in nothing but her bra.
    She unhooked it when he looked away again and tossed it next to her purse, covered her chest with her shirt and bravely faced him.
    “Ready,” she announced.
    He was all business when he spun around again. “Come around here.” He held his arm to the side so she’d go around the chair toward him. “Are we going on the right like Jo?” he asked, pulling her close so she had to stand between his knees.
    “Yes, we are.” She lifted her arm to expose her side to him. And shivered when he ran his glove covered hand over her skin, looking at her like a painter would look at a new blank canvas before starting to work. The feel of his fingers traveling over her ribs like that, in a place no man had ever really touched her since they invariably seemed to go only for the obvious—tits, ass, twat—was intimate, almost erotic.
    Jeez, it had been way too long since she’d gotten laid.
    “I don’t usually like to do the same piece twice, but I liked this one in particular. This is going to be cold,” he warned, a bare fraction of a second before he sprayed her rib cage with cleanser. He grinned up at her when she gasped. “See?”
    “You’re a funny guy,” she told him around her arm.
    “I have my moments.” He wiped her side dry, sprayed her again and reached for a disposable razor. “Or at least I like to think I do.”
    He popped the cap off the razor and started clearing her side of any fine body hair that might complicate things while he worked, or get infected and cause problems later.
    “Jesus, that tickles,” she said through her clenched teeth.
    “You need me to go higher while I’m here?” He moved her arm slightly to peek into her armpit. “Nope. Looks like you’re clean.”
    She narrowed her eyes. Jamie chuckled quietly as he tossed the razor into the trash. He sprayed and wiped again, this time leaving her skin a little damp. He reached for the stencil, turned back and eyed her side.
    “Can I move this until I get the stencil on?” he asked, tugging gently on her shirt.
    “Sure.” She made sure her arm was across both her breasts—easy to do since they were on the small side—and let him pull it out of her grip.
    Her nipple ring clicked against one of the rings on her hand as the fabric came free. Jamie’s eyes flicked to where her hand covered her breast and then quickly up at her, pupils dilated and nostrils flared like a predator catching the scent of his prey on the wind. There was a long moment when neither of them seemed to be breathing, eyes locked, each silently daring the other to make the first move.
    Leni struggled with the urge to drop her hand, expose herself to him once and for all, see where it would take them. He was right there, at just the right level. Liquid heat pooled between her legs and her nipples drew up tight at the very idea of that mouth of his on her tits, licking, sucking, maybe even biting, driving her slowly out of her mind.
    But he was very, very taken.
    He cleared his throat, and just like that the moment passed.
    He was quiet as he lined up the stencil and smoothed it over her rib cage. She ventured another look at him under her arm as he peeled the paper aside, but he’d slipped back into professional mode.
    He tilted his head to one side, then the other. “Check it out.”
    It took a moment for her legs to move her toward the full-length mirror on the back of his door. The outline was perfectly placed. Leni caught her reflection, noticed the flush in her face. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea for her to be alone with Jamie, even though the situation was purely professional and about to hurt like hell.
    For a split second she thought about leaving—just grabbing her