Inked in the Steel City Series(62)

All the excuses he’d found to see her, the way he’d sometimes prolonged their little meetings in the back of the tattoo studio even though she’d answered all his questions and provided better images than he ever could’ve hoped for… “I feel like I’ve been leading you on. I’m sorry.”

She tightened her self-embrace so much that it was a wonder she could even breathe. “Oh. I see… You don’t feel the same way.” Her face transitioned from pink to red before his eyes, and her expression vacillated from hurt to angry.

Damn it, she looked at him like he’d hit her or something.

“It’s not that I’m not attracted to you,” he said as his mistake dawned on him. “I am, but it’s not like we could be together.”

She raised her gaze again, her eyes searching his. “Why not? Are you seeing someone else?”

“No.” His voice came out a little too deep, a little too scraping.

“Then what are you talking about?” Her face was still red, but she looked more bewildered than hurt now.

He raised his hands in a useless gesture. “Look at yourself, Karen. You’re young, beautiful and successful – on your way to much bigger things than photographing tattoos for my studio, I’m sure. And I’m just myself. I tattoo – that’s it; Hot Ink is my life. I don’t have anything to offer someone like you.”

Karen finally dropped her arms to her sides, where her hands formed loose fists. “Are you serious? You don’t think you’re good enough for me?” She looked at him like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“I know I’m not.”

“Jed… You’re not just saying that because there’s some other reason that would hurt my feelings, are you?”

“No.”

For a few moments, she just stood there, hands balled and eyes wide. Then she looked around the studio as if searching for something. “Okay, here’s the glitz and glamour I’m apparently exuding – see this?” She bent down and picked up something between her finger and thumb.

Or at least, she went through the motions – he couldn’t see anything.

“Dog hair,” she said. “It’s been a freaking week, I’ve vacuumed twice and I’m still finding it everywhere.” She gestured toward her khaki-colored pants. “I’ve stopped wearing dark colors because the hair shows up so well against them.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“Last week I did a shoot for a pet grooming company. Apparently they thought the world’s most spastic greyhound would be the perfect model of a well-groomed dog. The shoot was a nightmare – I still have scratch-marks on my arms from that dog, and he peed on the carpet!” She thrust an accusatory finger toward one corner of the room. “Who do you think had to clean it up?”

She shook her head, her mouth set in a firm line. “Anyway, I’m just glad he didn’t knock over any of my lights or break anything. In the end, I got a few ad-worthy images, but I worked for them, Jed. I scrubbed pee-soaked carpet for them. How’s that for bigger and better things?”

“Maybe you should hire an assistant,” he suggested. “Someone to help keep a handle on your canine clients and clean up accidents if needed?”

“Don’t think I haven’t considered it,” she said, eyes flashing, “and don’t try to change the subject. You’re not too good for me Jed – the idea is ridiculous. So…” Her nerve seemed to falter, and she let her gaze drop. “So don’t be sorry about the kiss. I’m not.”

A part of him wasn’t sorry, and that part was rapidly fighting its way to the top. “You’d been drinking and—”

Karen stepped into his personal space as he repeated his earlier argument, struggling to keep a handle on his self-restraint.

A determined look flashed in her eyes as she advanced on him, and he only had a second to wonder what the hell she was doing before reality crashed down on him in the form of her mouth against his.

He hadn’t bent, hadn’t bowed his head to facilitate what was happening, but she was tall enough that she only had to rock up onto the balls of her feet to reach his mouth. And holy hell, she was a more aggressive kisser than he remembered – there was an edge of fierceness to her kiss, a demand made clear in the way her lips worked against his, surprisingly firm, and then soft…

Her aggressiveness faded as he caved, giving in to the heat and pressure of her mouth, of her body against his. The passion was still there, but they were equals as he wrapped his arms around her, just like he’d imagined. Thoughts of resistance were as far away as the moon as her breasts swelled against his chest, and he could feel the soft flesh conforming to his body. Was he just imagining it, or could he feel her nipples beneath the light sweater she wore?