Being fairly certain that she would accept his attention willingly made him even harder.
She bit her lip as he reached out and gathered her hair so it all flowed down her back, not hiding an inch of her lovely, bountiful breasts. Her nipples hardened to pebbled points that his mouth watered to taste. This close, her unique scent was intoxicating.
Remembering the marker in his hands, he said, “Hold your arms out at your sides for me.”
She was slightly elevated on the table so that her breasts were at his eye level. A slight gasp escaped her as he drew the curving outline of the first rose. He rolled close enough that her calf was trapped between his thighs as he sketched the vine on her rib cage beside her right breast. In the quiet of the studio, she exhaled slowly, and he could see her studying his face in his peripheral vision. He glanced up at her and smiled. Her tremulous, reciprocating smile lit a fire inside him as he turned his attention once more to his work. She couldn’t see what he was doing without twisting around, so she watched him instead. The knuckles of his right hand brushed against the silky outer curve of her breast as he sketched. Once he was tattooing her, he’d have gloves on, and he was sure he’d miss the feel of her smooth skin. Her soft, rapid respirations signaled her continued nervousness and he knew what she needed.
He grinned and held the marker up to her. “Hold this, please. I know what I forgot.”
She took the marker from him. “What?”
“I think this might help you relax.” He turned on the sound system on the work counter, placed three CDs in the changer, and placed the remote in her hand. “You can skip to the next song anytime you want.”
The low strains of Apocalyptica’s “Cohkka” began, and he went back to work. As Jayne listened to the first minute or two, an unknowingly seductive smile crossed her face, and he had to take a deep breath. This song made him think of her every time he listened to it.
“I love cello. This is different. Sexy. It would probably be good writing music, too.”
Seth nodded as he continued drawing and tried to ignore his aching cock. The blend of classical cello with modern rhythms and hard rock arrangements picked up its pace, and he paced his sketching along with it. He was pleased that she liked his choice. That meant something to him.
“Lean back on your hands just a bit,” he murmured as he started the section of the design that extended in a diagonal formation from her upper right rib cage downward and across to her left hip. He brushed his thumb over a patch of skin that was a darker shade than the rest, near her belly button. There were also three small scars. As he continued drawing, doing his best to encompass each mark within an area that would be tattooed, he asked, “Would you tell me about dealing with your illness?”
Seth wanted to know everything about her and she might find it a welcome distraction. Talking about it while he worked on covering those areas might help her to have a little more closure as well. He knew that from past experience with other cancer patients.
“Well…I’d graduated from Sam Houston State University, in Huntsville, and was working as an assistant librarian on campus, when I first had symptoms. At a routine checkup I mentioned them and my physician got suspicious.”
“So they caught it early? What did they do?”
“Yes. They did a biopsy. I was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s lymphoma.” She pointed to one of the scars and he wanted to lean forward and kiss it. “They used radiation therapy on the cancerous lymph nodes.”
She paused then and he knew that she was giving him the abridged version, speaking in shortened sentences—distancing herself from what had happened.
“The treatment was effective and by the one-year anniversary of the diagnosis I was in remission. I found a full-time position at a library in Houston and loved it. I’d discovered that I enjoyed writing. I had an apartment, a boyfriend, and a social life. Hodgkin’s was a bump in the road that I thought I was over.”
“It happened again?”
“Yeah.”
He couldn’t resist asking the question, thinking of her being on her own dealing with cancer. “Did your boyfriend help you? Was someone there for you?” Obviously the guy hadn’t hung on long-term.
“In the beginning, yes. My mom and dad were also very supportive but they were starting a contracting business and so I tried to not bother them. The doctors did another biopsy and more…tests.” Her eyelids fluttered closed and he didn’t press the point if she wanted to skim over the painful details. “Cancer teaches you patience with yourself and others. They prescribed radiation again and when that didn’t do well enough on its own, they added chemotherapy to the regimen of treatment.” She let out a long sigh. “I hate to bore you with all this.”