Free Gravity (Artistic Pricks Ink Book 1) by Cat Mason Page B

back, Ki looks into my eyes as if she can’t believe what I just said. Her brow arches skeptically, the wheels turning in her head so fast part of me wonders if smoke will start pouring from her ears while she overanalyzes everything that just happened. “Ugh, what a day,” she sighs. A defeated giggle slips past her lips, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. “Today has just been…” Her voice trails off, those eyes that were heated just seconds ago become distant.
    “I can tell.” I reply, running my fingers up her arms trying to pull her back into the moment with me. The last thing she needs to think about is her shit day. For some reason I want to see her smile, to be the one that made her day end on a good note. “Why don’t you go get some dry clothes on? I’ll take care of the spider and we can actually eat that dessert now.”
    “Okay, that sounds good.” Pushing to my feet, I make sure she is steady before letting go of her waist. “You really think we can forget that just happened?” She asks, scooping up her wet shirt, covering herself from my eyes. Stepping into the hallway she turns away from me, my eyes dropping straight to her ass. Tossing an “I told you so” look over her shoulder, she giggles. “Yours isn’t so bad either.” She shrugs before disappearing into her bedroom.
    Grabbing a few paper towels from the roll, I scoop up the dead attacker. Righting the trash-can, I toss him inside. “Thanks for taking one for the team, man,” I chuckle. It may not have been some serial axe murderer or drug cartel hit man, but I couldn’t be happier about playing the hero tonight. I wasn’t lying before; the last thing I expected was for a kiss to go as far as it did. I just wanted to spend more time with her tonight. Call me crazy, but the more I get from her, the more I want to know.
    Walking back up the hallway; I stop just outside her cracked bedroom door, but don’t dare go inside. I’m mesmerized by the view. Ki digs through her drawer, wearing nothing but a pair of pink lace boy shorts. Every inch of her, from head to toe, is flawless. I don’t know why, but I’m eating up every inch of the un-inked skin. Being a tattoo artist, I don’t see virgin skin very often. If I do, it’s not for long. I watch her body move as she steps into the legs of a pair of yoga pants. Every bend of her body as she pulls them up her thighs is a tug at my already tortured cock.
    This is fucking cruel.
    Forcing myself to look away, I head up the hall into the living room. Standing there being a total pervert won’t help prove that I am not just here for sex. If she would have turned around, she would have thrown me out of here on my ass. That can’t happen. Whatever it is about this woman that has me so fixated, I’ve got to figure it out. Ki is a puzzle, and I’m more than happy to put the time in to work her out.
    Adjusting my hard on, I carefully sit on the sofa. Poor guy didn’t get the memo that sex isn’t happening here tonight. In an attempt to get my mind off of the beautiful, half-naked woman in the next room, I focus on anything else I can think of. I’m working out inventory in my head and invoices for the shop when Ki steps out, closing the door behind her. She has on a tight, pale blue tank top with yoga pants on, now, and no matter how hard I try I still see what’s underneath playing on repeat in my head.
    “Come here,” I say, patting the cushion beside me. “I want you to try these.” Picking up the box beside me, I open the lid as she pads across the floor toward me.
    “Oh,” she teases. Sitting beside me, she crosses her legs beneath her and gets comfortable. “I didn’t think you were going to share.”
    “That’s where you’re wrong,” I purr, lifting the brownie to her lips.
    Her lips part, still swollen from me kissing her in the kitchen, and I slowly slide the bite of chocolate chip cookie and peanut butter fudge brownie into her mouth. Her eyes close, just as I