Page 10 of Too Sweet
The powerful aura surrounding him makes me want to stand to attention, shoutingsir, yes, sir, but at the same time, I imagine crawling onto his lap and hiding my face in the crook of his tattooed neck.
“Are you done?” The coldness in his voice balances just above freezing, tinged with husky anger that sends chills down my spine. “I want to check how bad it is.”
On instinct, I angle my body the other way.
As if that’ll save me...
Despite the fight or flight response urging me to flee, my insides turn hot whenyou’re gorgeousresonates through my head. I’ve recalled those words too many times. I’ve recalled his broad shoulders, dark hair, and low, rough voice even more.
“Thank you,” I say, clasping my damp skirt to make sure he can’t yank it up and check the burn on my thigh, but at the same time, I defy my instincts, meeting his searing gaze. “It’s not that bad.”
He studies me for a moment like he’s trying to read my mind, his features pinched, a muscle feathering his jaw. “Fine. What are you getting done?”
Toby interjects with a short, awkward laugh. “Nothing now, right?”
I’m about to agree when an idea pops into my head. It’s not what I wanted, but it’s close enough and still marks the time I spend playing Bridge. “Is there anything wrong with Queen of Hearts?”
“No, that’s cool. You want that?”
“Yes.” I touch the outer side of my wrist. “Here.”
“Queen of Hearts?” Nico asks, summoning my attention just as Knox approaches with another black coffee for him. “The card suit?”
“Yeah, she plays Bridge,” Toby answers for me, pushing his food aside. “Didn’t you say over the phone that you need to head back to the office?”
“Plans change,” Nico clips, pinning Toby with a pointed stare. “I’m done for the day.”
“Why didn’t you grab something to eat?”
“I ate.”
Toby cocks an eyebrow but loses the stare battle and shrugs, looking back at me. “You got any tattoos? Do you know how this will go?”
“I’ve got a few. I’m aware of the process.”
“Okay, let’s get this done. It won’t take long.” He gets up, gesturing for me to follow. “You want black or red ink?”
I sit on the white torture chair, glancing away from the mirror. “Red, please.”
“How are you with pain? Should I fetch the anesthetic?”
“No, don’t worry. I won’t cry.”
He smirks, hauling a small stool closer, then positions my wrist on the arm support. “How’s your sister?”
“She’s okay. Partying like always.”
“I haven’t seen her in a while.”
“She lived in London for a few months but didn’t like it and moved back two weeks ago. She’s organizing a girls’ night out tonight. You’ll find her inQif you missed her.”
“What acoincidence.” He glances at Nico, clearly amused. “That’s where we’re going tonight. You need to meet her, man. I don’t know another girl who can party like Aisha.”
“I know her. She’s not my favorite person.”
The first sharp prickle of the needle assaults my nerve endings, but I’m too busy with my thoughts to feel pain, however mild. My sister is a nymphomaniac. Self-proclaimed, but I bet the doctors would agree.
The mere thought of Nico knowing her turns my stomach. Has he snuck out of our house after making her scream in the bedroom adjacent to mine?
