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Skin Page 2


  “So tell me about yourself,” Art said, sitting back and looking at the tat in its outlined stage.

  “Oh, I’m kind of boring. I work in an indie bookstore near here.”

  “Women’s Word? That bookstore?” Art said, as she prepared her tools.

  “Yeah,” Sam said. “It doesn’t pay much, but the upside is that I’m surrounded by books all day.”

  “After this, a bookstore is my dream job.”

  “You like to read?” Sam said. Could this woman get any better?

  Art readied her needle gun. “I grew up surrounded by books—I became a reader by osmosis. That and the family practice of wandering around reading books all the time even at the dinner table. It’s not like we didn’t talk to each other we just did it through books.”

  “Wow, that sounds kind of neat. I’m the only one in my family that reads—I’m the odd ball. It’s still that way with my friends. I get stuck sometimes because I’m reading about stuff but not really doing much outside my head so I don’t have a lot to talk about. It’s okay at work because the people who come in the store like books. My friends think I’m weird because I always have a book in my pocket.”

  “You’re talking now,” Art noted.

  “Yeah, but you’re easy to talk to.”

  “So are you,” Art said.

  They gazed at each other a moment longer than they should have. Something was happening here and Sam wasn’t quite certain what.

  “Here goes,” Art said, poising the tattoo gun over Sam’s breast. “Are you ready to say goodbye to Karen?”

  “Goodbye and good riddance.”

  Art laughed. “I’m going to outline first then add the color. You already know it hurts a little, but I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

  “Okay,” Sam said.

  Art turned on the gun and began. After a few minutes, the pain intensified then numbed to a dull buzzing. Sam closed her eyes and tried to keep her mind focused on anything other than the tiny needle piercing her skin and Art’s breath fanning warmly across her neck.

  Sam tried to think of anything but Art’s fingers, lips, body. She thought about the novel she was currently reading. At first, she had pooh-poohed the plot line. It concerned two women who fell in love at first sight. That was something she definitely did not believe in. Until today, that is. She didn’t know how to explain it, but she could absolutely fall head over heels for this talented woman who at the moment was inking her mark on her skin.

  Sigh… so much for not thinking about Art.

  Sam followed her imagination to her own personal romantic ideal. She was walking on the beach, holding Art’s hand under a moonlit sky. They stopped and kissed each other passionately as the warm water lapped at their ankles. Art ran her hand across Sam’s butt, kneading, pulling her in close. Sam shivered with anticipation and need.

  “Okay, the outline’s done. How are you feeling?”

  Sam’s eyes jerked open. She was still foggy from her lust stupor. “Fine. I’m fine,” she said with a nervous smile. Could Art tell what she’d been thinking?

  “Do you need a break or do you want me to keep going?”

  “Keep going,” Sam said. She thought of Art’s hand caressing her butt. Definitely keep going.

  Art switched to a different gun that had a row of needles. She bent back over and began the coloring process. Sam flinched at the new pain, but soon became accustomed to it.

  Sam closed her eyes and traveled back to the moonlit beach. She and Art were kissing. Art ran her fingers lightly over Sam’s shirt, teasing her nipples. Sam kissed Art’s ear, darting her tongue inside and delighting at the way Art trembled in her arms. Sam’s lips moved down Art’s neck, kissing her collar bone.

  Sam broke the kiss and led Art back away from the tide. She dropped to her knees in the sand and brushed her hands up the back of Art’s bare legs, stopping at the hem of her shorts. She trailed her lips and hot breath across Art’s bare midriff while she unbuttoned her shorts. She pushed the shorts to Art’s ankles and kissed the tops of her thighs, her hips, nuzzling her nose into the womanly softness under the thin panties. She tugged at the panties, but Art’s hands on her own stopped her.

  Art whispered hoarsely, “Not yet. I want to make this last.”

  Art knelt in the sand alongside Sam and pulled her shirt over her head.

  Sam wasn’t wearing a bra. The night air felt chilly against her feverish skin. Art bowed her head and kissed her breast, sucking one nipple into her mouth. She ran her tongue in circles around Sam’s nipple while pinching and squeezing the other nipple.

  Sam watched Art’s mouth on her breast. Art drew the nipple slowly in and out of her mouth, the wetness mingling with the cool night air, creating shivers that tingled up and down her spine.

  Sam felt her whole body giving in to Art’s demands. Her body became consumed by hunger, by the need to feel Art’s skin against her own.

  Sam reclined on her back, pulling Art down beside her. Sam stroked Art’s cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”

  “Kiss me again,” Art said, her voice needy.

  Sam obeyed. As she kissed her, she ran her fingers lightly across Art’s taut stomach, over the ridges of her muscles and around the soft curves of her hips. Art moaned and pressed against her.

  Sam nipped at Art’s lips. Art pulled Sam fully on top of her so that the length of their bodies touched. Sam felt both powerful and heady with desire. She was delirious with the feeling of skin on skin, nipples brushing against nipples, softness against softness.

  An electric pulse throbbed between her legs. She pressed her thigh between Art’s thighs and marveled at the warmth emanating from Art’s center.

  Art’s fingers kneaded Sam’s butt, pulling her closer. She moved her lips to Sam’s ear, breathing, “I want you. I want you now.”

  They kissed harder, more urgent, tongues dancing with the rhythm of their hips as they nudged against each other—soft and slow at first and then rocking and urgent.

  “I want to be inside you,” Sam said, breathlessly.

  “Please,” Art begged. She tugged at Sam’s shorts and tossed them aside before slipping out of her own panties.

  Sam trailed her fingers over Art’s cleft and then pushed deep into the core of her. She was deliciously wet and silky.

  Art inhaled sharply then opened wider, inviting more of Sam inside.

  Sam became blinded by desire. All she could think about was the softness, the velvety feel of Art, of making her come, how badly she wanted to feel Art come.

  Art’s expert fingers found Sam’s womanhood and eased inside. They pushed against each other impervious to the outside world, existing only in this one—rocking hips, delving fingers, gasping breaths, pounding heartbeats, burning skin on burning skin.

  “Let’s come together,” Sam said.

  She sucked Art’s bottom lip between her teeth, feeling like she wanted to consume Art in this moment of passion. Unable to hold on any longer, Sam arched her back, her center convulsing as she felt Art let go at the same time—perfect timing. They exploded together, their passion consuming them in one white hot flame.

  Sam looked heavenward just in time to see a shooting star. Was it an omen? Was it the Universe’s signal that what had happened was pre-ordained?

  “All done,” Art said.

  Sam’s eyes snapped open. “Done?”

  “Not a peep out of you either. It’s like you weren’t even here,” Art said. “Take a look.” She handed Sam a mirror.

  “It’s beautiful,” Sam said. She looked up to meet Art’s eyes. She blushed.

  “So are you,” Art said.

  Sam smiled shyly, part of her mind still on that beach. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”

  Art blushed this time. She snapped the latex gloves off, saying, “You know I don’t usually do this but I was wondering…” She stopped.

  Sam held her breath. It was all she could do not to blurt out her answer before the question was even asked.


  “Maybe we could take a walk on the beach tonight? It’s supposed to be a full moon. If you’re not busy, that is. I know it’s short notice…” Art looked shy and uncertain for the first time all afternoon.

  Sam smiled. “I’d like that very much.” Sometimes dreams do come true, she thought. Sometimes they really do.

  The End

  Other works by Layce Gardner & Saxon Bennett:

  Heart’s Desire

  Afternoon Delight

  Score

  Memoirs of a Gay-She

  Veronica’s Tale

  Shorts

  More Than a Kiss

  Crazy Little Thing

  Be sure to check out the authors’ websites: Layce Gardner.com and SaxonBennett.wordpress.com

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