Chapter 6
Chapter Six
There was something wrong with Sloane, but Hailey couldn’t figure it out.
She ran her hands over her pants, keeping her eyes on him as he stared at his sketchbooks.
He might have said all the right things, done the right ones, too, but there was something off with his eyes—as if he truly didn’t believe what he was saying.
Or maybe she was just thinking too hard. She did that all the time.
But there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there before.
There was a gruffness to his voice that scared her.
Not in a way that meant pain, but in a way that meant…
brokenness. She’d never heard it before, not even in the days when he’d lock himself in the Montgomery Ink office and focus on his sketches rather than the world.
He’d do that for hours at a time when he didn’t have clients, then come over to Taboo with a need for coffee and food.
She’d take care of him and make sure he had enough in him to make it home, but even then, the darkness in his eyes hadn’t been like it was now.
She didn’t understand it.
It couldn’t have been something she did, because, damn it, she hadn’t done anything. And she wasn’t the type of person to immediately blame herself for every little thing. But he was scaring her enough that she began to wonder if maybe she had done something.
And that worried her.
“There a reason you’re standing next to me hovering like you want something?
” Sloane asked, though there was a smile in his voice.
Perhaps not as bright as it had been only days before, but it was something.
He set down his pencil and turned to her.
He held open his arms, and she slid into them, wrapping her own around his neck.
“I didn’t know what to do with my hands,” she answered. Her gaze met his and she did her best to try and figure out what was wrong, but that wouldn’t happen until she asked him.
And knowing Sloane, he wouldn’t tell her.
Sloane’s mouth quirked into a grin and he lowered his hands to cup her ass. “I know what I can do with my hands, Hails. Why don’t you explore with your own and figure out what you need to do with them.”
She rolled her eyes but kissed him anyway, a soft kiss that turned into something much hotter, much deeper. Sloane’s hand molded her butt, bringing her even closer as they kissed. When she broke away, she had to catch her breath. Then she wiped the lipstick off his lips.
“Sorry about that,” she said when she showed him her thumb.
He shrugged and kissed her thumb anyway. “I think it makes my lips pop, don’t you?”
She threw back her head and laughed, aware his hands were still on her ass.
“It accentuates your skin tone for sure. But really, sorry it’s all over your lips.
I didn’t wear the stain today since I like to try different things, but I guess I’m not used to having to worry about rubbing it off on another person’s body. ”
He licked his lips, his eyes on her own. “Oh, really…what part of my body are you thinking of putting your lips on?”
She lowered her head so she could run her teeth along his earlobe. When he shuddered against her, she bit down slightly. “Where do you want my lips?”
His grip on her tightened, and she let out a happy sigh.
“Anywhere you want them, Hails. Anywhere you want them.” He squeezed her again but didn’t move her closer.
“Before we get naked and show each other exactly where we want to put our lips, though, I want to work on your ink. I have a few ideas sketched, but I can’t do much more without your input and without tracing your outline. ”
She gulped but nodded. Her body cooled somewhat—not that it ever completely cooled in Sloane’s presence.
They were in his home office because he’d wanted to do the outlining in private.
Eventually, when he did the actual ink, he’d close off part of the shop so it would just be the two of them and no one would see if she didn’t want them to.
While that was standard practice for intimate tattoos, she still loved the fact that he took care of her.
She also hadn’t been to Sloane’s that often, so it was nice to see where he lived, be among his things.
It wasn’t a large place, and frankly a little stark, but it smelled of him.
And except for the construction work in the bathroom where it looked like he was redoing tiles, everything seemed to be in order.
And if she thought about tiling a bathroom, she wouldn’t have to think about the fact that they were about to outline her chest so she could get the tattoo she’d wanted for years.
Sloane moved his hands to cup her face. “Hails.”
She blinked at him.
“We don’t have to do this now. We don’t have to do this ever. The ink you get is for you. Yeah, I might see it when your shirt is off, but anything we do from here on out is for you.”
The way he said that made her pause. Might? Did that mean he might not see her once it was done?
She forced those thoughts from her head and focused on him. “I want to. It’s just a lot. You know?”
He brushed her cheek with his thumb. “I know. And we don’t have to do anything today. We can just make out.”
She winked, some of the tension going out of her shoulders. “Can we make out after?”
“It’s a deal.” He kissed her softly then turned her around so she sat in his lap. She could feel his erection under her, but neither of them said anything about it. Not yet.
“So you already did some sketches?” she asked. She didn’t reach out and trace the leather-bound book in front of her, but she wanted to. This was his, so she would restrain herself.
He fisted his hand in her hair and she melted on his lap. When he pushed her hair to the side and kissed behind her ear, she melted more, causing both of them to moan.
“Hails, baby, don’t squirm or I’m going to fuck you right here and we’re never going to get your ink done.”
“You’re the one fisting my hair and kissing my neck.”
He pulled on her hair, and she moaned.
She didn’t move, but she did bite into her lip. “So.” She cleared her throat. “Sketches.”
He let her hair down and kissed her temple.
“I didn’t know what you wanted since we hadn’t gotten that far.
I don’t know if you want flowers or symbols or anything.
But I was up late and had an idea. You don’t have to use this.
In fact, I suggest you don’t. And though I know your body quite well now that my hands and mouth have been on every inch of you, I don’t know it to the detail I’d need for a tattoo.
So things would have to change anyway depending on angles and shit.
But, if you like it as a base, then sure.
I just couldn’t get it out of my head. You know? ”
“I know.” She leaned into him. The fact that he’d thought of something for her, as if he couldn’t stop from sketching it, brought a warmth to her chest she didn’t want to think about just then. “Show me.”
Sloane reached around her and opened the book, his hands steady, but she could feel the tension in his body. This was important to him. Not just the ink he would eventually place on her skin, but what he was going to show her. It was important to her, as well.
She sucked in a breath at the first drawing. “Sloane.”
He didn’t say anything, but she let her shaky hand reach out and trace the edge of the paper. “How…how did you know?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s…it’s almost exactly what I had in my head. How…how did you know?”
He swallowed hard; she could feel it. “I guess I know you better than I thought I did.”
She let the tears fall then and studied the drawing. She loved this man, loved everything about him. He knew her. She may not know everything about him yet, but she’d find out.
She had to.
Her hand shook once more as she put her finger on the edge of the paper and pressed her lips together.
He’d captured almost exactly what she wanted, at least most of it, without even having to ask.
Long branches reached out from her right side and across her chest. The trunk of the leafless tree would go down her side, with the roots wrapping around her hips.
The bark wouldn’t be brown, but a mix of Gaelic symbols in dark black with shadows in between.
She might ask him to add splashes of reds and pink in the white parts if it would look good.
She wasn’t sure. As for the branches, they would tangle together over her breasts with a single hot pink ribbon wrapping itself around them, the edge dangling off the end of a branch.
Cherry blossom petals fell down from the tree and added a splash of color to the imagery.
At the base of the tree, a rose bush lay with vivid red roses wrapping up her belly and over her scar.
“It’s…”
“Your strength and beauty in one. If you don’t like the ribbon, we can take it away. Or we can put an octopus or a cake or something on your side.”
She snorted. “Really? An octopus? A cake?”
“You’re a baker. And people like putting octopuses on their bodies these days. No idea why. Probably because of all the legs.”
She wiggled so she sat sideways on his lap. “It’s…perfect. I mean, we could add things to it or something, but it’s what I wanted. I wanted a tree, I wanted symbols, I wanted pink and red. You got me, Sloane. You get me.”
He tugged her close and kissed her jaw. “I like to think I get you, Hails. I’ll have to sketch your body to make sure I can do this, but you have just the right curves that it won’t look like a hunk of bark on your side, you know?”
She grinned. “I trust you, Sloane.”
He met her gaze, and something passed over his eyes she couldn’t read. “You honor me, Hailey. Fucking honor me.”
“I don’t think I’d be able to trust anyone else to do this.” She hadn’t meant to say that, though she’d stated something similar in the past. She felt so raw right now, so open. She trusted him with her ink, but for some reason, she was scared to trust him fully with her heart.