"No, babe." I kiss his bicep. "You rocked my fucking world."
He chuckles and pulls out of me, making me gasp as I feel that apa pull along the walls of my pussy.
"Jesus, I'm glad you're not afraid of needles." I turn and sit my bottom on the stairs, and look up into his bright gray eyes. He's relaxed now, the anger and frustration seemingly released with rough sex and a hot orgasm.
"You'd look amazing with a tattoo," he murmurs.
I narrow my eyes at him. "You were inside me less than thirty seconds ago and now you're being cruel."
"I'm not being cruel, I'm being serious."
I tilt my head and run my eyes over his sexy tattoos, and for the first time in my life, I consider it. "Yours are hot."
"I have an excellent artist, if you ever change your mind." His eyes are warm and filled with lust, his lips in a half smile looking down at me, and something shifts in me.
"Let's go talk to him tomorrow."
Nate's jaw drops and his eyes widen. "Seriously?"
"Seriously. I'll consider it." I shrug, trying not to show how nervous I am at the thought of someone coming at me with needles in a gun-thingy, but he sees right through me.
He always sees right through me.
"You don't have to do that for me," he murmurs.
I shake my head. "Adding permanent art work to my body and undergoing torture at the hands of a needle is not something I'd do for any man. Maybe it's time to face a few of my fears."
He laughs and pulls me to my feet, throws me over his shoulder and slaps my ass, then climbs the stairs.
"Shower," he says with a smile in his voice.
"Good idea."