Page 124 of Nash
"Done."
She wipes the tattoo one final time and applies ointment. Her fingers smooth it across the design, tracing the peaks and valleys she just inked, and the tenderness in the gesture makes my breath catch. Then she covers it with a clear wrap, pressing the edges down carefully.
I look at my forearm. My heartbeat in her handwriting.
"Now everyone will know Ruby was here," she says. Quiet. Her fingers still on my arm.
I pull her off the stool and onto my lap. She straddles me, her knees on either side of my thighs, and the weight of her settling against my cock sends a jolt through my hips. She's still shirtless. Her breasts press against my chest through my shirt; the bare skin of her stomach is warm against mine where my shirt has ridden up. I've been watching her body press against my arm for an hour, and the restraint I held during the tattoo dissolves.
I wrap my arms around her waist and grind her down against me. She gasps. My mouth finds her neck, sucking hard on the spot below her ear, my teeth dragging along her pulse. I slide my hands up her bare back, down her sides, and around to her breasts. After I cup them both, I squeeze, then roll my thumbs over her nipples. She arches into my hands with a moan that echoes through the empty shop.
"Nash." Her voice is breathless. Her hips rock against mine, chasing the friction.
I pull her closer, my mouth moving from her neck to her collarbone, biting, sucking, tasting the salt on her skin. My cock aches against my jeans, the pressure of her grinding on top of me making it difficult to think. I grind her down again, harder, my hands gripping her ass, and the sound she makes goes straight through me.
"Ruby was always here," I say against her throat.
She pulls back. Looks at me. Her eyes are bright, wet at the edges, her mouth swollen from where she's been biting her lip while I marked her neck.
"Nash."
"Yeah."
"Do you know how many times I've sat in this chair and thought about you?"
"How many?" My hands are still on her ass. I squeeze. She shivers.
"Every time. Every single time I was in this chair, working on a client, I thought about you at the wall. Your forearms. Your jaw. The way you lean. The way your eyes track me when I move." Her fingers curl into the collar of my shirt. "And I thought about this."
"About what?" I roll her hips against me with my hands slowly. Her eyes flutter.
"About you in my chair." Her voice fractures as I grind her against my cock again. "About climbing onto your lap." She rolls her hips. "About riding you until I screamed loud enough for the whole shop to hear."
"The shop is empty."
"Then I'll scream louder."
I grip her hips and pull her down against me. Hard. The seam of her jeans grinds against my cock through the denim, and we both groan.
"Show me," I say. "Show me what you thought about."
She pulls my shirt over my head. Her hands spread across my chest, her nails dragging down my stomach, and my muscles clench under her fingers. She takes her time, her eyes following her hands, watching my body respond to every scrape of her nails. When her fingers reach my belt, she pauses. Looks at me.
"I thought about this every day, Nash. Every single day in this chair."
She unbuckles my belt. Unzips my jeans. I lift my hips and she pulls them down to my thighs. My cock strains against my boxers, the head already wet, and she wraps her hand around me through the fabric, stroking once. Her thumb presses the wet spot at the tip. My hips jerk off the chair.
"Your turn," I say.
I reach forward and unclip the black bra. It falls and her breasts spill free, her nipples hard, dark pink in the shop light. I cup one in my hand, squeeze, drag my thumb across the nippleand watch it tighten further. Her head tips back. I take the other nipple in my mouth and suck until she whimpers.
I pop the button on her jeans with one hand while my mouth stays on her breast. She stands long enough for me to drag her jeans and panties down her thighs in one pull. She steps out of them and stands in front of me, naked in the empty shop, her skin flushed and warm in the shop light. I can see the wetness glistening between her thighs.
"Come here," I say.
Ruby straddles me. I shove my boxers down and my aching cock springs free. She grips the base, positions me at her entrance, and I feel the slick heat of her against the head before she sinks down. Inch by inch. Her pussy stretches around me, tight, soaking, gripping me as she takes me deeper. I watch my cock disappear inside her, the visual of her body swallowing me making my jaw clench and my hands shake on her thighs. She settles all the way down and her thighs press against mine. Ruby's so wet I can feel it pooling at the base of my cock.
Her forehead drops against mine. Both of us breathing hard.
