Page 23 of Retribution
“Cobra?”
He was mostly undressed when her knock made him pause, and his whole body went on high alert. The water was already turned on as he unlocked the door and jerked it back the barest crack. A slight blush crept up into her cheeks.
“What’s up?”
“Can I use the bathroom before you hop in the shower?”
Cobra nodded and shimmied to the side then opened the door wider so Dakota could get inside the cramped space.
“It’s all yours. Sorry, I didn’t ask.”
“No worries.” She slid into the bathroom.
His hand still rested on the doorknob as she stood there staring at him. Her attention seemed to burn a hole through his skin.
“You’ve got more tattoos,” she breathed out, licking her lips.
“Yeah,” he spoke gruffly, clearing his suddenly tight throat as he avoided her open stare on his nearly naked body. His cock twitched beneath his boxer briefs and his jaw hardened as he willed himself to get a damn grip so she could do what she came in for. “I’ve had a lot of work done at various times.”
“I knew you had some but I haven’t seen them all up close like this.”
When Dakota took a step forward, awe washed across her face, and he wondered if she even knew what she had done. Instinct seemed to draw her closer to him. Her eyes traced all the tats that ran from his chest, to his shoulders, and down his arms. Art was Cobra’s form of expression and an outlet: a part of him that he could control while he was doing time—and when he was free again.
“You like them?” Cobra stood a little straighter and pulled his shoulders back, allowing her to explore him where normally there was scrutiny and dirty looks from judgmental assholes. “You don’t think I’m some kinda thug?”
“No, Iknowyou’re a thug.” She laughed, clearly giving him shit as she zoomed in on the intricate tattoo that started at his stomach and folded around his ribcage. “But your ink doesn’t make you who you are, Cobra. Your body is incredible. Like a living, breathing story on your skin. When I was a kid, I saw a man at the swimming pool who was a walking painting. I mean every area of his body—except his face—was covered in pictures that moved when he did. I was fascinated by him, and it stayed with me for years. Even though your body isn’t as illustrated as that, it’s exquisite.”
Cobra scoffed, trying to pretend that her warm breath across his chest wasn’t making him all kinds of hard while she stood less than an inch away him. She still had her eyes glued on his upper body, and he hoped she kept them there, otherwise there was no way he could conceal what was tenting in his boxers.
He grabbed the towel on the sink’s counter behind him and held it in front of him, hoping that did the trick. “They aren’t all fucking Monets, you know.” He inhaled sharply as Dakota gripped one of his arms, holding it out under the fluorescent light.
“The gradients are still interesting. I can tell they aren’t all from the same artist.”
Cobra made a non-committal noise and shifted from foot to foot. Her touch burned into his skin as she turned his arm around and over exploring the designs. But he supposed with every second he was on good behavior, it showed her that he wasn’t like all those other assholes and douches who only wanted what was between her legs and nothing else.
Dakota was learning to trust him, which was good, but there was only one small problem—at that moment he had a hard-on from hell.Fuckin’ perfect timing.
Cobra stepped back. “Didn’t you want me outta here?”
“Oh … yeah.” She dropped his arm and stood up, leaning against the bathroom counter. “That would be good.”
He nodded then ducked out the door before Dakota could see what he had rocking in his boxers just from the touch of her soft hands on his skin.Fuck!He glared down at his cock as if it were the enemy.
Even if Dakota wanted to fuck him, Cobra would wait for her to approach him, or at least give him stronger signs than her hands on his arms as she admired his ink.Fuck … my MC brothers would have a heyday with this shit.And he wouldn’t blame them. He was acting like a goddamn infatuated schoolboy chasing after the pretty girl in class.Dammit to hell!
Cobra shook his head and crossed his arms, doing everything in his power to ignore the lust ripping through his system.She’s just new and shiny.The shit would fade … it always did in the end.Been there done that.All the pretty girls blurred into one big collage. For Cobra, there was always a detachment, but with Dakota something was different.
“Get out of your own head, you moron,” he murmured under his breath.
“Okay, we’re all clear. Sorry about that.”
Dakota’s voice caught his attention and his head jerked up from where he’d been staring at a smudged stain in the carpet.
Cobra pushed away from the wall. “No problem. I’ll be out soon.”
“Great. When you get out, you can tell me what some of those symbols mean and who the artists are. I may want to use some of their designs.” Dakota grinned and threw herself onto the bed on her back.
“So you’re using me as a living art gallery?”
“What? You don’t like being used?” She teased, putting her hands behind her head.
His lips went into a grim line and he forced back a frown. What he didn’t want was her hands exploring his body unless she wanted to take it to the next level.
“I’ve got to get in the shower.”
Images of her fingers and her tongue tracing the outlines of his tats made him rush into the bathroom.
He locked the door, slipped off his boxers, then turned the water to cold.
