The chime of the door hadn’t gotten his attention, so she waited until Ghost noticed her and called out, “Oh shit, run!” and made a show of trying to dive behind his table.

Ian met her gaze and grinned. She tried not to end up a puddle of the floor. Thankfully, there was no sign of Brian or Candace, and the rest of the artists were all but strangers to her. Gabby laughed along good-naturedly with Ghost’s joke, grateful when Ian quickly ushered her on back to their little room.

“I think we’ll knock this out today,” he said, sounding so normal and even professional.

“Good, I can’t wait.” She tried to return the favor, but she sounded too bright and false. Or maybe it was her imagination. Dammit.

Only the way his hazel eyes lingered on hers a moment longer than they should gave any indication there had been something between them.

That body had been naked and thrusting beneath hers.

Jesus! She almost smacked herself for having that thought. She should’ve known, however. The more she tried to keep those images away, the stronger they rushed in. And once that one was in, she was swamped with them.

Ian closed the door. “Gabby.”

She put her hands to her flaming cheeks. “Oh God, I’m sorry. It shows, doesn’t it? I was trying to be so normal.”

He smiled, sweetness tinged with devilish charm. “I think you’re trying too hard to be normal, and it shows. But it’s okay in here. Just you and me.”

“Maybe it only shows because you’re looking for it,” she teased.

“No. Your face is red. Unless you can blame the heat for that.”

How freaking embarrassing. She was a thirty-six-year-old woman, not a kid with a crush. “It’s not like I jogged here or anything, so no, I guess I can’t do that.”

“Like I said, it’s nothing. I’ll step out and let you get ready, then we’ll get started.”

No point in him stepping out. He’d seen her naked…a lot. Except that it would look weird to the others if they happened to notice that he didn’t. She smirked at the thought as he left the room, then stripped off her shirt and bra. How the hell was she supposed to lie under those skillful hands for an hour or so when she now had the remembrance of just how skillful those hands were on other parts of her body?

It was her own damn fault for pursuing him. She should’ve waited until the tattoo was done, at least.

She settled on the table. A moment later, he knocked and reentered with her permission.

He’d done most of the lines that he needed to during her first session. Today would be mainly fill-in to really make this bird fly. She couldn’t wait.

“How have you been?” he asked, and Gabby turned her face toward the direction of his voice. She still couldn’t see him; he was closer to her ankles. Was he avoiding her? “You look great,” he went on before she could answer. “Like you’re in a much better place than the first time you came in here.”

Thanks to you. “Oh yeah, I’ve been awesome. How about you?” Do you think about me? Dream about me? Was it as good for you as it was for me?

“Can’t complain.”

There was no way he could not think about it. Why did she care? She’d already decided it was a one-time thing and that she wouldn’t let herself be affected by him. She supposed she hadn’t really prepared herself for the possibility that he wasn’t affected by her.

“I want to touch you so f**king bad.”

She nearly came off the table. Had she heard him correctly? His voice had been so low and husky, it might’ve been a remnant from one of her feverish dreams about him, come back to cruelly haunt her.

She lifted her head and looked back at him. His gaze roamed over her ass, her back where his art waited to be completed, and finally to her face. She sucked in a breath when the full force of those heated eyes hit her. “Ian…”

“I know.” He chuckled, snapping on his black gloves. “We’ll get through this. I’ll even keep my hands to myself, though it’s gonna be f**king torture.”

Somehow, knowing that it was torture for him made her feel better. At least she wasn’t the only one pathetically turned on. She could know that he was right there with her. Smiling to herself, she put her head back down and listened to his movements as he prepared to start.

“It’ll be the same for me,” she murmured.

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Well, I’m gonna shut up before either one of us gets something started that we shouldn’t.”

Aww, no fun. But smart. Very smart.

“Ready? Relax, sweetie.”

Oh God, how could she? That voice slid over her like a warm caress. His warm caress. The tips of his gloved fingers touched her. She closed her eyes and suppressed a groan.

“This healed up really well,” he said. “Beautiful.”

She couldn’t reply. All her thoughts were focused on the ache pooling between her legs and the panic of knowing she had to lie here and take it without moving. The sting of the needle hit her, and she flinched, so awash in pleasure that the introduction of pain was almost more than she could stand.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered. She had to be strong and get through this, get it over with and done today. Another session with him might kill her. And hearing his voice through all of this might kill her too, but she needed it to take her mind off the pain. “Talk to me,” she pleaded.

He paused to wipe her excess ink. “Hmm. What do you want me to say?”

Are you hard right now? She giggled. “I don’t know. It’s always easy to talk until someone asks you to, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“About eight years.”

“Wow. What made you want to?”

“At first to piss off my stepdad. I came home with my first tattoo at eighteen, and he told me how trashy it was. I’d always loved to draw, but I’d never considered it as an option until that moment.”

“Ah, rebellion. No wonder you and Brian get along so well.”

He gave a short laugh, but it didn’t contain one iota of humor. “I guess it sounds that way, doesn’t it?”

It seemed like a sore spot, so she let it drop. “Well, whatever your reasons are, I’m glad you could be the one to do this for me. You’ve made a lot of people happy, I’m sure.”

“The honor’s been all mine, Gabriella.”

Unf. Why was it she hated her stupid long name until he let it roll off his tongue in its entirety? Because that tongue of his could make anything better, that’s why.

“Pardon me for saying so, Ian, but you are the hottest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. It just seems unfair and cruel of me to not let you know that.”

He barked with laughter. “Well, it seems unfair and cruel of me to not let you know that I think you ruined me for all others.”

Oh shit. If she could’ve snuggled him right then, she would have. And most likely, she wouldn’t have let him go for a long, long time.

What the hell were they going to do about this? She was all-systems-go for a repeat. But she would only want another. And another. And another. At some point, it all had to end. She was leaving very soon. In fact, she’d worked it out with Tina next week to stay with her while she looked at apartments. Her old building where she’d lived before moving in with Mark was full, but she’d made some phone calls and found a couple of others with vacancies.