His Dirty Virgin(6)

But if I didn’t do it, Bob would be all over helping her out. And that shit wasn’t going to fly.

“Come on into the back room. I’ll do your ink there.” I wanted to be alone with her. I wasn’t sure where she wanted her tattoo, but no one was getting a glimpse of any more of her skin. Besides, I didn’t want anyone else to see my hard-on. As soon as I touched her, I’d be in big trouble.

She walked beside me and I let her enter the room first. It was used for when a client wanted a little privacy—a tattoo going in a more personal spot or even a piercing.

“I’m going to grab my sketch pad so we can talk design. I’ll be right back.”

When I left the room, I could see Anna and Bob looking at me suspiciously. I responded with a smirk before I hurried over to my office and grabbed my stuff. I was back with her in no time, and she looked like she was making herself comfortable in the chair.

“Do you know what you want?”

She nodded her head and began to unbutton her shorts and pulled her zipper down. “I want a butterfly on my hip…for my mother. She used to call me ‘my little butterfly’.”

She wriggled herself to move her shorts below her hips and let them stay there.

Fuuuuck. I swore her bright pink panties were going to be the death of me. Her shorts were tight and lifted her ass cheeks up a bit. What…the…

“I want it right here.” The tip of her pointer finger rested lightly on her hip bone. “Will it hurt?”

I just stared and stared at the exposed flesh. The curve of her hip was something I could easily grab hold of when fucking her from behind. The thong covered her mound and made me wonder if it was wet, ruined with her eagerness for me to fuck her. She certainly wasn’t overly modest. Thank fuck I brought her to the back room. Shit, if Bob got sight of her with her shorts down, I’d have punched him out.

I cleared my throat, gently ran my finger over the spot where she wanted the ink. Silky soft. Warm. I was going to come like a fucking teenager if I didn’t pull it together. “I remember your mother…she was…definitely much nicer than your father.” We exchanged grins at that. “So, regretting coming in tonight?”

She was quick to shake her head, just watched my finger as it moved. “Nah. I just want to know exactly what I’m signing up for. Some of my friends say getting a tattoo hurts like a bitch, but others were able to take a nap while getting one.”

“Well, it depends…” I placed my sketch pad on the desk and walked closer to her. I pressed two fingers on the skin of her hip bone once again, and fuck was I doing my best not to move my hand lower, to feel the lips of her pussy through the lace of her thong, to feel the wetness.

What the fuck did she really come here for?

I tried my best to keep my groan at bay and pressed my lower torso against the chair. My hard dick was relentless, and Becca wasn’t helping. She was the cause of it.

“It depends where you want it. If it’s near any bones, then yeah, it’s more painful, but you’ll live, and you can tell me to stop anytime. You can come more than once.”

Fuck. The thought of her coming on my cock, on my mouth had me stifling a groan. And her coming more than once? Absolutely. When I got her in my bed, she was going to forget her own name.

I could see her hesitation with the way she bit her bottom lip. I coughed out loud to shadow another groan threatening to escape. She looked so beautiful and adorable that I just wanted to push her back against the chair and climb on top of her, to slide those shorts down a little further and slip right into her tight heat.

Fuck off, inner me said, and I was instantly reminded that girls like her never went for guys like me. I wasn’t rich and dangerous for someone like her. I had no future ahead of me besides my small business. No trips to Europe, no polo ponies. There was no way she could go to her high-society events and bring me as her date. I’d just humiliate her. She couldn’t be with the guy who’d walked away from it all.

Cut it out. She just wants a tattoo, not a relationship.

That thought was supposed to be an instant boner killer, but with her shorts pulled down that was impossible.

“Are you sure you want to do this? You look nervous,” I said, realizing my fingers were still on her hip bone. I didn’t want to pull them away. “Give yourself a week to think it over and give me a call. I’ll work around your availability.”

Suddenly, the shy, helpless girl before me disappeared. There was a light in her eyes and a steadfastness with the way she looked at me now, the way she shifted her hips into my touch.

“I want you,” she said.