Home > Tattoo (Take It Off #7)(43)

Tattoo (Take It Off #7)(43)
Author: Cambria Hebert

I was tired of doing that. I didn’t want to be a threat to Taylor’s safety, but I didn’t want to give her up either.

I needed to do some damage control.

20

Taylor

I couldn’t stop watching him. Everything about the way he moved enticed me. The way his fingers wrapped around the end of the fork reminded me what they felt like on my skin. The way his lips closed over the food and the little moan of appreciation from his throat made me think about what it had been like to lie beneath his naked body.

“Am I gonna need to feed you again?” he said, not looking away from his heaping plate of French toast bake. The affection in his voice warmed me better than any cup of coffee ever could.

“I’m not really that hungry,” I said, watching the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. I hadn’t eaten in hours, but I was thoroughly satisfied.

After shoving another humungous bite of food into his mouth, he dropped the fork, allowing it to clatter against the plate. Then he spun on the stool he was sitting on to face me. Gently, he pulled the coffee mug out of my hands and set it aside. His arm brushed the inside of my leg when he grasped the edge of the stool and dragged it across the floor, bringing my chair right up against his.

Keeping his eyes on me, he lifted my legs so they were spread and rested on either side of his hips and he was right between my thighs. “How’s a man supposed to get anything done when his woman stares at him with desire written all over her face?” he asked softly, delving his fingers into my hair and pulling me in for a kiss.

He tasted like syrup, sweet and sinful. I licked into his mouth and the flavor of cinnamon burst over my tongue. His mouth was warm and giving, making me feel wanted and welcome.

As we kissed, he pulled his fingers through my hair, winding a few strands around his hand and rubbing a thumb along my collarbone. I’d never felt so connected to anyone in my entire life. It didn’t feel as if we’d just met, but that I’d known him for years. He wasn’t the kind of guy I ever thought I would get involved with, but the more time I spent with him, I realized he was exactly the kind of guy I needed.

Brody was the kind of guy who would challenge me. He wasn’t predictable like the numbers I worked with on a daily basis. He was a math equation without a definitive answer. He was a dash of salt in my otherwise bland day.

I didn’t know everything about him, I didn’t know what the future held for us, but I was looking forward to finding out.

He pulled back and studied me with chocolate eyes. “I probably shouldn’t be here right now,” he said, brushing my hair behind my shoulder. “This is the most selfish thing I’ve ever done.”

“Why?” I curled my fingers into the hem of his T-shirt.

“I’m putting you in danger, Tay. Snake’s been running his mouth, probably telling everyone who would listen that I’m not who they thought I was. I’m going to have a target on my back. They’re going to come after me. The only thing worse than a cop is a cop who pretends to be one of their own.”

Concern squeezed my chest, but it wasn’t concern for myself. It was for him. I realized then that dating a cop, being with someone who was constantly in harm’s way, wasn’t going to be easy. I would wonder about him every day, if he was safe, if he would come home to me.

He placed a finger beneath my chin and forced my gaze up. “Hey,” he said quietly. “I’ll leave. I’ll walk out of here right now if that’s what you want.”

“Would it really be so easy for you?” I whispered, an ache in my chest. Yes, it had only been days since he pretty much crashed into my life, but even so, if he walked away, I would feel his absence profoundly.

“No,” he answered. “But staying here and hurting you would be worse.”

This is how I knew he was the kind of man I needed. He was giving me a choice. He wasn’t making a decision about us without me. And if I asked him to leave, he would because he would respect what I wanted. My fingers tightened in his shirt, tugging the fabric across his back and pulling him closer. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Brody untangled my hand from his shirt and lifted it to press a kiss to the palm of my hand before wrapping it up in his own.

Was it possible to want someone just minutes after you had them? Was it possible that the warmth sliding through my abdomen was renewed desire? Lust was a powerful emotion, and it was obvious I lusted after Brody.

Outside of the kitchen, I heard a key in the door, the lock slide free, and it push open. Brody stiffened, all his attention going to the doorway between the room we were sitting in and the small entryway off the garage.

Seconds later, my father walked in, his tie slightly askew and a briefcase in his hand.

“Hi, Dad,” I said, and he looked up, surprise written on his face. He gave me a warm smile that quickly faded as he took in the close proximity of Brody and me.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, giving Brody a pointed look.

Brody pretended he didn’t see it and kept himself exactly where he was. It pleased me. Not because I wanted to disrespect my father in his own house, but because I liked that Brody wasn’t intimidated by him. Too many guys were scared away by the prospect of dealing with an overprotective, resource-rich father.

“I’m feeling good,” I said, getting down from the stool to go around the island. “Can I make you a sandwich?”

“That would be great,” he said, finally looking away from Brody and setting his briefcase on the counter. “I didn’t have time to eat today.”

I busied myself getting out everything I needed to make ham and turkey sandwiches, and my father busied himself questioning Brody.

“I see you’ve been watching over my daughter.”

“I told you I would.”

“Dad.” I butted in. “You seriously offered to pay Brody to be my bodyguard?”

“He’s qualified for the position.”

I sighed. “You know how I feel about you trying to manage my life.”

“I will not lose you,” he replied. “You’re all I have left.”

Pain pierced my heart and I gave up the argument. My mother’s death had been very difficult for my father. She was the love of his life, and when she finally succumbed to the cancer, a part of him died with her. It was maddening as hell the way he tried to protect me, but I couldn’t bring myself to be angry at him.

“I told you I didn’t want your money,” Brody said, looking at my father. “This isn’t about money for me.”

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