Chapter Six
Take Me, Everywhere
The next day, I couldn’t stop touching the tattoo.
It was still sore, still healing, but the ache turned me on.
The line of ink just above my inner thigh felt like his breath still lingered on my skin.
It wasn’t just a tattoo. It was a memory. A signature.
His name without saying his name.
And God, I wanted more.
I was late to work. Still walking like my thighs remembered every inch of his c**k.
Still replaying the feel of his hands pinning me to the leather as he made me scream.
But when Silas texted me that afternoon—“Dress up. No panties. Pick you up at 8.”—
—I didn’t even hesitate.
I shaved. I lotioned. I tried on three dresses before settling on a black one that barely hugged my ass and clung to my t**s like it was begging to be ripped off.
