Cajun Christmas by Daire Sharan

Author:Daire, Sharan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-12-23T00:00:00+00:00

KELSEY

Flashing his trademark bad-boy smirk, Maddox leaned against the door, casually twirling my panties on his finger. Dressed all in black down to his motorcycle boots with a bit of chain around his ankles, and a thick lock of hair tumbled down over his forehead, he looked more like a rockstar than a chef. All he needed…

He dragged his gaze up from my breasts, eyes heavy lidded and dark. Brows arched, waiting for my answer. Did I want him to stay? Did I want him? After I’d just had the fuck of my life with Jay?

Um. Hell yeah.

I tried to play it cool. Crossing my arms over my breasts, I scooted back against the headboard. “I wanna know something first.”

He closed his fingers around my panties, balling them up in his fist. I had no doubt that if I refused him, he’d shove them down in his pocket. One tiny memento he’d treasure, even though it’d been Jay stripping them off of me. “Shoot.”

“Did you get more tattoos?”

His smirk widened and his fist loosened. “Just a couple.”

Jay huffed out a laugh. “Show her the goods, Mad.”

I knew he had one tat on his upper right biceps. I’d gone with him to get it as soon as he’d turned eighteen. His uber-religious parents had refused to give consent when he was underaged, and the local artists all knew exactly who he was, so he’d been unable to fake the form. Just one of the many hazards of living in a small town. It was hard to get away with shit when everyone knew everybody else.

At first glance, I didn’t see any hint of ink on his body beneath the long-sleeved, button-down shirt. Holding my gaze, he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, only to reveal a white tank undershirt. He pulled the shirttails out of his pants, and I could almost hear stripper music playing in the background. He even turned around, flashing a grin over his shoulder as he shrugged out of the outer shirt, swaying his hips a little.

Ink swirled down both of his arms, ending right above his wrists. Solid sleeves of colorful ink, glittering emerald and red mixed with black. Maybe scales? I couldn’t tell for sure. He pulled the white tank over his head, and I gasped.

His entire back was covered in ink. Hours and hours of detailed work. Scales curled around his arms, flowing down his back in sinuous curves that disappeared into his pants. Making me think even his ass was inked.

“Once I got started, I couldn’t stop.” He turned back around, holding his arms out slightly, palms forward. His torso was mostly untouched but silver glinted in his nipples. His first tat on the front of his right arm had been a black-and-white bulldog wearing a spiked collar with “Maddox” on the name tag. He must have had it redone or freshened up over the years because it still looked sharp and crisp with a new red tongue and white teeth bared in a growl, framed in writhing scales.

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