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last edge of her climax had a chance to dissipate, he demanded, “Again. Come for me again, girl. Come  with  me.”
    He pulled her hair so hard the front of her body came off the table, until she was on her knees, her back pressed against his broad chest. His cock filled her over and over, hitting her g-spot perfectly in this position. His arm was like a vise around her body, his fingers pressing on her swollen clit.
    “Come on, sweetheart. Going to come any second. Come with me. Do it now,” he gasped. “ Now , Roision!”
    She felt his cock begin to pulse inside her, and her body responded to his pleasure—it drove her own higher, to that heady crest, and over the edge. His body jerked as he came. She shivered under him, panting and mewling, she was so worn with pleasure. With the absolute command she felt with this man. This Dominant. The real thing, at last.
    She didn’t even know what to do with it. This was what she’d told herself she’d been seeking. What she’d been waiting for. And now it turned out to be some pick-up play, with some guy from out of town who had a reputation for being a lady-killer. Her in Dominant male form.
    Oh, this could be bad. Very bad.
    She pulled in a breath, held it before she released it.
    So, she would focus on tonight. The  now . Because the now was damn good.
    As the infamous Scarlett had said, tomorrow was another day.

 

Chapter Four

    Rosie was glad she’d decided not to come into work at Midnight Ink until noon. Taking the day off on New Year’s Day hadn’t been quite enough to recover from New Year’s Eve. Not just from the play and staying up until three in the morning. It was  him , too. She’d needed all day to simply dream about him—his touch, the incredible breadth of his shoulders. His command…
    She shook her head, trying to shake off the languorous mood he’d put her in. Languorous and a pervading sense of sensuality in even the simple things she did, like making herself coffee in her French press at home, curling up on the sofa under a soft blanket. The many times—had it really been four? Five?—that she’d retreated to her bed or the shower to try and relieve the lingering burn of his hands on her.
    It was one night. Forget about him.
    It might take a while with this one. But she’d never been one to moon over a guy. Not even the gorgeous and eminently Dominant Finn, with his hot Australian accent and his even hotter body. Hands that could bring pain and pleasure in a single touch.
    Stop it!
    She waved hello to the gentle giant Caliph who glanced up with a smile from the client he was tattooing, and at Eli, their darkly beautiful piercer, who was talking on his cell phone, before stashing her purse in the cabinet at her station. She was glad to see Sassy, the tattoo shop’s manager, had set her up already with a sheet of plastic wrap over her counter, the small plastic ink pots lined up in a row, stuck to the wrap with ointment. Her first appointment of the day was due any minute. She hung her sweater on a brass hook set into the raw brick wall and sat on her wheeled stool, rolling her shoulders. She was still sore all over from the play she’d had with that monster of a man.
    Finn.
    Her head was spun—that was certain. She didn’t like it. In retrospect, she probably should have ended the scene as soon as she realized what an impact he was having on her. It was unfamiliar. Dangerous. The idea that she really might have done anything he asked of her…
    But God, the sex had been amazing! She was sore from that, too, but in the best way possible. She felt deliciously  used . And damn it, she was getting wet again just remembering.
    Switch to work mode, girl.
    “Hey, Sassy?” she called up front. The shop was one big room with open stations, so access to the reception desk was always a shout away. Sassy was used to it. “Who’s my first client? I didn’t check the schedule before I left the other night. And is coffee ready? I’m in