Inked on Paper (21 page)

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Jake

“Tofu?” I glanced down at Presley as we stepped out onto the street, secretly hoping she wasn’t serious.

She laughed, squeezing my hand, confirming that she was joking. At least I hoped she was joking. I could deal with a lot of things, but tofu was not one of them. I had tried it once and it had been an experience I would never forget. Nor would I repeat it.

“I’m kidding,” she said, beaming up at me.

I opened the car door and waited for her to get in, then closed it behind her and made my way around to the driver’s side.

“Seriously, though,” Presley said when I pulled away from the curb. “I can cook and I’ll even make something with meat in it for you.”

“So, your place?” I asked, confirming once again that this was what she wanted to do. After the conversation at the coffee shop that morning, as well as her reaction to what had happened at the bookstore, I truly hadn’t expected her to invite me back to her place. Definitely not yet and certainly not until we had cleared the air between us.

“Yep, my place.”

I glanced over at her.

“Don’t worry, Chapter One. I’m not gonna jump your bones. I’ll make you lunch and there’s something I wanna show you.”

I smirked. “Do you now?”

She laughed, then smacked my arm. “Get your mind out of the gutter. I’m gonna keep all my clothes on.”

“I’m sure I can work around them,” I joked. Although I wasn’t joking entirely.

“I’m sure you can. Now come on.”

Fifteen minutes later, I was following Presley into her condo. It smelled like bacon and aftershave and I could hear the sound of grease popping.

“Hey,” Gil greeted us almost instantly. “Didn’t know you were gone,” he told Presley.

“Aren’t you working today?” Presley asked him.

“Not till later tonight. Blaze and Charlie are over there now.”

“Gotcha,” she told him. “Gil, you remember Jacob Wild.”

“Oh, yeah,” Gil said, grinning. “The voyeur.”

I laughed but didn’t deny it. Since it was the only time I’d seen Gil other than at the tattoo shop, I knew he was referring to the night he’d invited me over here for a beer, which had turned into a long night. I hadn’t participated in the wild and crazy activities, but I definitely hadn’t had a problem watching, which, I guessed, by definition was a voyeur.

“What are y’all up to?” Gil asked, turning back to the kitchen. “Want me to make you something?”

“I wouldn’t,” Presley warned with a chuckle. “Then again, it’s not tofu.”

“Fuck no,” Gil said with a grimace. “Who eats that shit?”

“I do,” Presley said sweetly before both of them looked at me.

“Thanks,” I told Gil, “but I’m good.”

“Oh, come on,” Gil said. “Live a little.”

“Where’s the screamer?” Presley questioned, taking a seat at the bar and motioning for me to take a seat on the other stool.

“She’s … uh … sleeping?” Gil explained, tossing something into a skillet.

“You know that for a fact?” Presley laughed. “Or you’re guessing?”

Gil glanced between me and Presley. “She said she had to work early, so I thought she’d be gone by now.”

“Where does she work?” Presley asked.

Gil shrugged.

“Isn’t this the chick you tattooed?” Presley grimaced when Gil nodded. “You didn’t ask where she worked?”

“I’m sure I did,” Gil said, meeting Presley’s gaze, then mine. “Just don’t remember.”

I felt Gil’s pain. I’d been there numerous times. Not that I was proud of myself, but hey, it was the way it was. Hookups were meant to be just that. No strings.

“What’ve y’all been up to?” Gil inquired as he continued to focus on his bacon.

“Jake got mobbed at Book People, then I took him over to the gallery to show him my work.”

“Mobbed, huh?” Gil’s eyes lit up with interest. “By hot chicks?”

I wasn’t going to touch that with a ten-foot pole.

“It was kinda hot, actually,” Presley said.

My gaze darted to her. Was she serious?

“So, kinda like Adrian, huh?” Gil said absently.

That was obviously not the right thing to say, because Presley’s smile disappeared instantly, and Gil was too busy to even notice.

“Let me know when you’re done here,” Presley told him, twisting around as though she was going to get down from the stool. “I’m gonna make us some lunch when you are. But first, I want to show Jake some more of my work.”

I looked at Presley, something inside me loosening somewhat. I don’t know why it made me feel good that she wanted to show me what she was proud of, but it did. The idea that she would share part of herself with me, it was unexpected.

And t
here was that word again.

Chapter Forty

Presley

I’m not quite sure what I was thinking when I invited Jake back to my condo, but I’d had the urge to show him some more of my work. Something other than a bunch of scribbles and half-ass drawings in my sketchbook. I guess I really wanted him to know that at some point I had been inspired enough to create something worthwhile. Since he’d seemed so impressed with my piece at the gallery, I wanted to show him it hadn’t been a one-time thing.

Now that we were seated in front of Gil, I was beginning to relax. Or I had been, right up until Gil had mentioned Adrian.

“Hey, hold up,” Gil said.

I glanced over at him, unable to keep the frown off my face.

“I didn’t mean that and you know it,” he said, his eyes locked with mine. “I’m sorry. I’m an ass.”

“Yes, you are,” I told him bluntly.

Which only made Gil smile.

That was the way things were between us. He would say something crass and uncalled for, but I knew he didn’t mean it. Still, when he brought up Adrian, it never ceased to piss me off.

“I’ve been telling her,” Gil said to Jake, “that she needs to put some of her work in here. It really is fantastic.”

“It is,” Jake agreed. “That piece at the gallery’s amazing.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about the two of them gushing about me. It was a little weird.

“She’s good,” Gil said now, his attention on Jake. “Her work is one of a kind. Not that she’d ever admit as much.”

“If only I could draw now,” I told him.

“You will. Give it some time.”

Time. Something I really didn’t have much of. At least not if I wanted to enter that contest, which I did. For the money alone. Not to mention the notoriety that would come along with winning. It was what I needed, or at least thought I did, to give me that added boost.

“I think you need a vacation,” Gil said, meeting my eyes.

“A vacation?” That was random. “And where do you suppose I should go?”

“You could always go to your dad’s cabin,” he said, snagging a piece of bacon from the skillet and shoving it into his mouth. “Anywhere but here. You spend too much time here as it is.”

It was true. These days I did.

Not that I was looking to take a vacation. I had to work. One of these days, Charlie was going to get frustrated with me. It was inevitable. She couldn’t carry my weight forever.

I glanced over at the hallway that led to Gavin’s room. “Gav here?”

Gil nodded. “Sleepin’.”

“Was he out late?”

“Don’t think so.” Gil scooped up the food in the skillet, then dumped it onto a plate. “Okay, boys and girls. If you’re not gonna eat, I’m not gonna let you watch me.” Gil grabbed his food—something that obviously included bacon and was yet again wrapped in a tortilla—and gave a quick salute. “I’ll check you later.”

“Make sure she’s dressed when she comes out of that room,” I told him with a fake smile.

“No promises. They look best naked.”

“Not to me they don’t. They look better gone.”

Jake laughed, his eyes intently focused on me, and I remembered why I’d brought him here. Only now, with the way he was looking at me, I wasn’t sure taking him to my bedroom was the best idea I’d had in a while. Clearly, there was the potential for something to happen between us in that room. And I can’t lie, if things went that route, I certainly wouldn’t be disappointed. I still relived the memories from the other night, and secretly, I was hoping for a replay. Or maybe a do-over was a better way to go.

But honestly, I hadn’t been thinking about sex when I invited him over.

Well, not entirely, anyway.

It wasn’t easy to look at Jake and not think about sex. The guy was freaking gorgeous. And he had incredible eyes. And lips. And … his ass.

“Come on,” I told him, hopping down from the stool and taking his hand.

My stomach did another flip when I led him past Gil’s bedroom and into my room. I quickly closed the door and locked it—not thinking about it as I did. I was merely hoping like hell that Gil could keep it down for a while and whoever was in there wasn’t going to mistake my bedroom for the bathroom.

“So…” Jake said, peering around. “This is your bedroom.”

“It is.” How was it that he could make me feel like a teenager? Like this was the first time I’d had a boy in my room.

Well, technically, he was the first boy—er … man—to come into my bedroom. This one, anyway. Gil and Gavin didn’t count. They weren’t boys. Not like that.

“This feels like you,” he said, his eyes sliding over to mine, a small smile forming on his mouth. “You know what I mean.”

I nodded.

I watched Jake as he looked around. There wasn’t much to see, honestly. I had a wrought iron, queen-sized bed—which hadn’t been made since I’d moved in here. The scarred wood dresser against the far wall had belonged to my dad, one of the few things I’d kept after he died, other than the cabin, the motorcycles, and the sentimental items. The small nightstand beside the bed had been one I’d had since I was a kid. Other than that, there wasn’t much to my bedroom. I didn’t have a television, no stereo. Just an alarm clock, a phone charger, a stack of tattoo magazines still in a box, and a closet piled full of clothes. It was a simple room, really.

But that wasn’t what I wanted to show him, anyway.

The art … what decorated the walls… That was what I was proud of.

“Wow, Pres,” Jake said absently, his eyes fixed on the picture hanging above the dresser. It was one I’d drawn of Gavin. “That looks so real.”

“He wants to buy it from me,” I told Jake.

“I don’t blame him. It’s fantastic.”

It was a picture of Gavin working down on Sixth Street. One where I’d captured the essence of his true creativity when he’d been hard at work, his heart and soul going into the paintings he made. I was incredibly proud of that drawing.

“And this one? It’s similar to the one at the gallery,” Jake noted, pointing to another picture, this one hanging over the bed.

“Yep. Another of my dad,” I told him, a twinge tightening my chest as I looked at it. It was one I’d drawn of my father fixing one of the many motorcycles he’d restored. He was hunched over the bike, a wrench in his hand, intently focused on the part he was working on.

“And these?” Jake pointed to a collage of pictures on the wall beside the bathroom door.

“For a while, I had this thing about flowers, though if you tell anyone that, I’ll deny it.” It wasn’t my proudest moment, but I liked them, so I’d kept them.

Jake nodded toward my hand. “Is that where the inspiration for that came from?”

I glanced down at the rose tattooed on the back of my hand. I nodded. “Yep.”

“And the other one?” he probed.

I lifted my hand and observed the candy skull. “My dad bought me a candy skull for Christmas one year.” I absently smoothed my finger over the design. “It looked just like this one. I figured if I tattooed it on my body, I’d be able to look at it and remember that moment always.”

“I like them both. But you definitely don’t seem like the flower type.”

“What type do I seem like?”

His eyebrow lifted, and a sexy smirk formed, but he looked away, still perusing the pictures on the wall.

“You’re really good, Presley, you know that?” he asked, still not looking at me.

“I was,” I told him.

Jake turned to face me, closing the distance between us, those mesmerizing blue-green eyes searching my face.

“You still are,” he said, his voice low. “Maybe you just need some inspiration.”

“You think?” My eyes dropped to his mouth and I swallowed hard. “And what do you suggest?”

Chapter Forty-One

Jake

That was a loaded question if ever I’d heard one.

There were so many things I wanted to do to this woman, so many ways I wanted to
inspire
her. And here we were, alone in her bedroom. The perfect opportunity.

When her eyes dropped to my mouth, my dick came to life in full force. I’d been half-hard since she’d walked into the coffee shop that morning, but now … full mast.

“Presley.” I didn’t know what I wanted to say to her, but I wanted to say something. I was the author, the one who was supposed to be able to come up with the perfect words. Only with her … words failed me. Every time.

Her eyes met mine again and it was clear she was as willing to pursue this as I was. And more importantly, we were alone. With the perfect opportunity.

I heard muffled voices through the wall and I turned away from her, staring at the door.

“You’re an asshole!” someone yelled. A woman.

“I told you, babe. One night. That’s all you get.”

“One night! Are you fucking serious?”

I glanced at Presley. She was shaking her head.

“This happen a lot?” I asked.

“From time to time, yes. I’ve only had to call the cops three times.”

“For…?”

“There’s something about Gil that makes women crazy. A few times, they haven’t taken no for an answer. Once the women get physical, I usually make the call.”

“What does
he
do?”

“He despises confrontation,” Presley explained. “So, he simply stares at them like they’re whack jobs. Most of the time that tips them over the edge. It can get brutal, but Gil’s not that guy. He’s never laid a hand on a woman, even when one of them was beating the shit out of him. Luckily, I was there to pull her off.”

I’d been in the same predicament a time or two in my life. Most people thought men were the aggressors, but I’d had some crazy chicks come at me. And yes, I agreed, with those women, when you didn’t fight, they tended to get really pissed.

“I can’t believe you’re kicking me out!” the woman yelled.

“You said you had to go to work,” Gil countered, his voice still cool.

“I do.”

“So what’re we arguing about?” The way Gil’s tone softened even more, I knew he was trying to defuse the situation.

“I don’t know!” she screamed.

I smiled.

“Wanna take a shower with me?” Gil offered.

I glanced at Presley to see her rolling her eyes. “You deal with this every day?”

“Almost,” she confirmed.

“I definitely think you need a vacation,” I told her.

“And where do you suggest I go?” Her smile was naughty and my dick throbbed against my zipper.

“Somewhere for a change of scenery,” I suggested.

“Which would be?”

“My place,” I said with a grin. “Where else?”

Presley crossed her arms over her chest, which lifted her breasts and drew my eye to them. She had phenomenal breasts. High and round. Two perfect handfuls.

She cleared her throat, and I managed to tear my gaze away long enough to look her in the eye.

“You’re inviting me to your place?”

“Sure, why not?”

“I can think of a few reasons.”

I nodded, understanding. After all, we had screwed against my front door the first time I’d taken her there.

That didn’t stop me from closing the distance between us and placing my hands on her hips, pulling her closer and forcing her to drop her arms. Her head tilted back as she looked up at me. I liked the height difference, how damn small she was in my arms. It brought out a primal instinct within me, made me want to go all caveman on her.

Not that I would.

Yet.

“Are you gonna kiss me?” Presley asked, a smirk planted on those sweet, glossy lips of hers.

“How can I resist when you ask so nicely?”

“That’s the point. You’re not supposed to resist.”

Cupping her face, I leaned down, pressed my mouth to hers. I’d intended for the kiss to be sweet and short, but it turned into anything but.

The next thing I knew, I was hovering above Presley on her bed, her fingernails digging into my back, beneath my shirt, her leg wrapped around mine. She stole my breath as her tongue tangled with mine, her soft, sexy moans echoing in the small room.

“Jake,” she mumbled against my mouth.

Lifting my head, I stared down at her.

“Is it bad that I wish we were naked right now?” she asked.

A low growl escaped me as I pressed my lips back to hers, grinding the hard ridge of my erection against the warmth of her sex. She was killing me here.

As much as I wanted to do this, I knew I shouldn’t. This thing between us was moving fast, and I was more than all right with that, but I wanted to hold on to her for a little longer than a minute. This was our shot at a do-over, and though I didn’t know how that usually worked, slow seemed the better way to go. And I suspected that if I took this woman on her bed, she might run far and fast in the opposite direction again—especially considering the conversations that had taken place earlier in the day. Although she seemed just as eager as I was, there was something about Presley Abrams that made me rethink my past ways.

As it was, she lived with two guys who I resembled far more than I cared to admit. I knew what she thought of their womanizing and I did not want to be that guy. Not with her.

This wasn’t a woman I wanted to bed for the night. Shit, possibly not for only a weekend.

Something about her made me want more. More time, more kisses, more … everything.

And that meant I had to slow things down. Fast.

Before I could call a halt, Presley managed to lift her shirt and mine, so that we were skin to skin.

“Just a little,” she whispered against my mouth.

A little? I wasn’t sure I could handle only a little of her.

But I would give it my best shot.

Slowly sliding my mouth down her jaw, I couldn’t resist moving lower, skimming my mouth over the smooth, taut skin of her belly. I pushed her shirt higher, licking her nipple through the thin material of her bra.

She sighed, her hand cupping the back of my head and holding me to her.

Slipping my finger beneath the lacy cup, I tugged the fabric down, releasing one breast. After a quick look up at her face, I lowered my mouth over her, teasing her nipple with my tongue and my teeth.

“Oh, God,” she moaned.

Fuck. What I wouldn’t give to strip her naked and slide into her slick heat once again.

I fought the urge, instead sliding my thigh between her legs and grinding against her pussy, applying friction to her clit while she writhed beneath me.

“More,” she pleaded.

“Use me, Presley,” I mumbled, lifting my head to meet her gaze. “Make yourself come for me.”

Releasing her other breast, I tormented her with my mouth, ignoring the throbbing ache between my legs, allowing Presley to grind against me, her ass lifting as she worked to apply more friction where she needed it. I wanted to watch her come undone in any way that I could.

“Jake… Oh, fuck…” Her breaths came in a rush, her hands gripping the back of my head, her fingers tightening in my hair, sending shards of erotic pain snaking down my spine.

“Come for me,” I insisted, moving my thigh against her as I met her mouth with mine. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

Presley cried out, and I crushed my mouth to hers, swallowing the sound and feeling her body relax beneath me. I swallowed hard, shifting to ease the pain of my zipper against my dick. That truly was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.

I pulled my mouth from hers and stared down at her for a long moment, unable to look away. She was sliding her fingers through my hair, watching me closely.

“Good?” I asked, smirking.

The smile she offered made me relax, the fear that she would send me on my way receding.

“Better than good,” she whispered.

“Okay then.” I rose up, still staring down at her. “You showed me yours, now it’s my turn to show you mine.”

“You have a way with words, don’t you?” she teased.

“My place,” I clarified. “I want to show you my place. But first, I need to kiss you again, because for some reason, I just don’t want to stop.”

“Fine.” She smiled up at me and I pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You’re pretty damn hard to resist, you know that?”

“I like that you think so,” I told her.

I just didn’t tell her how much I liked it.