“You’re riding shotgun on the way home.” Lance points to Randy. “There’s no way you and Lily are sitting beside each other.”

  There’s some more banter back and forth, and when Lily returns they say their good-byes. I get Randy to sign the shirt and poster I brought to the shop before they leave. Everyone else is nice enough to sign it, too.

  Lisa turns to me and fans herself once the door closes behind them. “That was a lot of testosterone.”

  “Right?”

  “Can you even imagine what it would be like to date one of those guys? Their stamina must be insane.”

  Jamie stops filing designs in folders and gives Lisa a put-out look. “Uh, my stamina’s insane.”

  “So is mine,” Hayden says darkly.

  Lisa gives Jamie a patronizing smile. “I didn’t say it wasn’t. All I’m saying is that these guys play professional sports for a living. Their job is to be physically fit.”

  Hayden runs his hand over his stomach. “I’m physically fit, aren’t I, kitten?”

  “Of course you are.” For a guy who spends most of his time sitting in a chair, putting art on people’s bodies, Hayden is incredibly fit. He runs, and we have a workout room in the house, so that helps.

  “See?” Hayden flashes Lisa a dirty look. “I’m just gonna clean up a little in the private room, and then we can head home.”

  “I can help, if you want.”

  “You don’t have to.” He pauses at the door. “Unless you want to.”

  Chris is busy setting up for an appointment, and so is Jamie. Hayden is taking a rare Sunday afternoon off, so the sooner we leave, the sooner we’ll get home and the sooner we can enjoy some naked time between the sheets, or on top of them.

  I follow him into the private room, closing the door. I don’t bother locking it. I’d prefer to be in a much more private location when he gets me naked.

  “How was the consultation with Lily?” I ask, tracing the edge of the desk as I look over the designs he’s sketched for her.

  They’re stunning, although everything Hayden creates is beautiful in my eyes, even if it’s dark. These designs are anything but. A watercolor heart frames a pair of mismatched skates—one hockey skate and one figure skate tied together, the laces creating a second heart inside the first.

  “Yeah. It went well.” He taps the desk.

  “That sounds like it comes with a but.” I look up to see a little smirk curling the right corner of his mouth.

  “She’s really excited about the art, which is great—like, she would’ve gotten it today if she could’ve decided on a design.”

  “That’s fantastic. So what’s the problem?”

  “Location.” He drops down in his chair and wheels around the desk so he’s beside me.

  “You mean deciding whether she’s wants it to be visible or not?”

  “Yeah. Kinda. At first she mentioned inner thigh, and then I started explaining the logistics of that, so…”

  I suddenly understand exactly what he’s getting at. “Let me guess, Randy wasn’t all that excited about you having your head between her thighs for a couple of hours.”

  Hayden shifts, grabs me by the hips, and pulls me between his legs. “You should’ve seen the look on his face when he realized what I was getting at. It was fucking priceless.”

  “Well, can you blame him? A sex god like you with your hands all over his girl?”

  Hayden snorts. “I’m hardly a sex god, and those two seem pretty into each other.”

  “You’re my sex god, and yeah, they’re like a fuck-bomb ready to explode.”

  “I’m looking forward to being your fuck-bomb when we get home.” Hayden slides his hands up the outside of my thighs until his fingers reach the waistband of my leggings. He slips his thumbs under and pulls it down far enough that I question whether he actually intends to make it home.

  Hayden sweeps his fingers over the cupcake tattoo on the crest of my pelvis and follows with a soft brush of his lips. It was the first tattoo he ever put on me, a cover-up for a poorly done one I’d gotten as a teenager.

  “Do you have any idea how much it pissed me off that someone inked you before me?”

  I push his hair away from his eyes. “You were very clear about your feelings on that.”

  “I don’t think I tried very hard to contain those.” He’s not even the least bit remorseful.

  I laugh. “This is Lily’s first tattoo, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. It’s cool to watch someone get excited like that, you know? I have a feeling it won’t be her last, either.”

  I remember when Hayden put the cupcake on me. Beyond the intimacy, it was a huge rush. I’d never really counted the heart tattoo, so the cupcake felt more like a first. “I think you should design another tattoo for me.”

  “Do you now?”

  “Mmm-hmm. It’s been a while since I’ve been in your chair. I miss that feeling.”

  “You tell me what you want, and I’ll draw it.” Hayden’s arms come around me and he looks up, his smile holding the same excitement as mine.

  “I have some doodles at home.”

  Hayden stands. “Well, we should go there so I can check them. Then we can get you naked and decide where we want to put it.”

  “Best idea ever.”

  Chapter 11

  Paint by Number

  LILY

  “This is so pretty. Isn’t this pretty?” Sunny says for the fifth time on the ride home.

  “It really is,” Miller nods his agreement again.

  “Can I have a look?” Lance asks when we’re stopped at a red light.

  I pass the photocopied sheet to the front for him to see.

  He doesn’t look at it long before he passes it back. “Nice.”

  I stare at it for a little while longer, still unsure which one I like the best. I wish Randy would state an opinion to help.

  “So, the black skate is Balls here?” Lance thumbs over at Randy, who’s sitting in the front seat beside him since he’s not allowed to sit beside me. Again. It’s smart. He’s liable to get handsy, even if he says he won’t.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Remember when that chick tattooed your name on her boob? Oh! Or the one who got your face, but it looked more like Jesus? Or that guy in that biker show?” Lance asks.

  “Uh, yeah, that’s not really a great comparison to Lily’s tattoo.” Randy shifts around uncomfortably.

  “Right. Yeah.” Lance must realize his mistake, because he doesn’t say anything else.

  He drops Sunny and Miller off first, because they live the closest, and then he drops Randy and me at our place.

  As we get out, he checks his phone, rolls his eyes, and tosses it on the passenger seat beside him.

  Randy eyes the device and then Lance. “You wanna come in and hang out for a bit?”

  “Nah. I got some stuff to take care of this afternoon.”

  “We’ll be around, if you change your mind,” I say.

  “Thanks.” He smiles, but he looks sad as he waves and pulls away from the curb.

  I slip an arm around Randy’s waist. “I wish I had a friend to set him up with.”

  “That’s a nice gesture, but probably not the best idea.”

  “Why not? Everyone deserves someone.”

  “Yeah, he’s not really a one-someone kinda guy.”

  “He still seems pretty hung up on Tash for a guy who’s not a one-someone kinda guy?” She was their old trainer.

  “That situation was messy. It still is.” Randy laces his fingers through mine.

  “Our relationship was kind of messy when we first started hooking up.”

  We began as a casual fling, but clearly it didn’t stay that way since I live with him now.

  Randy regards me thoughtfully; then an evil grin spreads across his face. “You mean messy as in messing up the sheets? Or maybe you mean all the beard conditioning I had to do every time we hooked up?”

  My mouth drops open, and I try to yank my hand away, intent on tweaking his nipple, but he’s wise, and a lot stronger than I am, so it doesn’t work. He laughs and half-drags me up the front steps.

  “You know I’m just playing, right?” He pulls me to him. I give him my cheek, so he kisses his way up my neck. “Well, not about the beard-conditioning part.”

  “You’re winning no prizes with this.”

  “What if I tell you I want to condition my beard right now?”

  “I’m all for public displays of affection, but I’m pretty sure we could get arrested for that, even if we’re on our own front porch.”

  Randy fumbles with the keypad, punching in the code while he bites along my shoulder, his beard tickling me.

  We manage to get inside the front door. I’m smart enough to set the envelope with the tattoo designs on the side table in the front hall before he gets me totally naked and makes good on his beard-conditioning promise.

  * * *

  It took me three days to decide on my favorite design. Randy never did voice any kind of opinion on it, but I saw him staring at the designs just as much as I was. Once I chose—I went for the biggest one with the most detail—we stopped by to see Hayden, and he sent me home with transfers. I’ve been wearing them all over my body for the past few days to help make a final decision on the location.

  In this case, despite Randy’s insistence that I be the one to make the choice, he’s willing to help with the process. Using body paint.

  “I thought you said this was out,” I murmur as he nudges my knees apart and dips his finger into the pink body paint. He draws a little heart high up on the inside of my thigh.

  “I’m just making sure I don’t want it here.” Randy is not an artist by any stretch of the imagination. He is, however, very good at cleaning flavored paint off my body with his tongue. He’s also very thorough. My preferred licking locations are obviously those close to the Vagina Emporium, which is right where he is now.

  Of course, he doesn’t stay there long, because he’s a tease. He moves up until he can rest his chin on my pelvis—I’m only wearing panties and a camisole, so he has nearly full access to my currently unmarked skin. Using the purple paint, which tastes a lot like grape Kool-Aid, he draws a little smiley face on my hip.

  “I really think when you retire from hockey, you should see if you can switch gears and apprentice with Hayden,” I tell him.

  “So you can start a fan club?” Randy covers the purple smiley face with his mouth and sucks the paint off, following up with a little teeth. I know he’s kidding, though he’s aware of all the girls’ fascination with Hayden.

  “Just imagine the fun places I’d be able to get tattoos if you were the one to put them on me.”

  I can’t imagine we would ever finish one, to be honest.

  He turns serious, even with his head between my legs. “You know you can have one wherever you want it.”

  I smile and run my fingers through his hair. It’s getting long, which I love. “I know.”

  “I don’t want your decision to be based on my insecurity.” He kisses below my navel.

  While an inner thigh or a hip tattoo would definitely be sexy, I’m not interested in slowing our sex roll with new ink. Even if I waited for him to be on a series of away games, he’d still have to be gentle for at least a week. Sometimes Randy and I have slow, sweet sex. But that’s the exception, definitely not the rule.

  Beyond that, I want the tattoo to be visible—not necessarily all the time, but at least during the summer months. “I still think my shoulder is the perfect location. That way it’s visible when I want it to be and easily covered when I don’t.”

  Also, Randy likes to kiss me there, so now he’ll have an actual target. It’s a special, meaningful tattoo, tied to so many good memories.

  “Wherever you get it, it’s gonna be sexy.” Randy pulls himself up higher, kissing his way across my stomach.

  “Well, I doubt it’s going to be my last one, so there’s plenty of opportunity to find other places, isn’t there?”

  “Fucking right.” Randy settles between my thighs.

  I circle my arms around his neck. I toyed with putting the tattoo on my forearm, but I don’t know if I’m ready for that level of visibility quite yet. I need to ease my poor mother in to this, one pretty design at a time.

  In the meantime, I get to experience the excitement that comes with planning out a new sleeve with Randy. As I run my hands up his arms, one marked, one waiting to be marked, I understand his love of body art in a way I never did before.

  It’s about wearing a piece of your history, a part of what makes you who you are. And sometimes it’s about the people who come into your life, and embed themselves in your heart until you can’t imagine where you’d be without them.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  HELENA HUNTING

  NYT and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She's writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

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  THE SMELL OF ORGASMS

  LILY

  I prop my skate up on the bench to tighten the laces. After this session, my sexy, NHL-player boyfriend, Randy Ballistic, is picking me up for a weekend getaway with our friends. The cottage we’re going to belongs to one of Randy’s teammates, Alex Waters, who I’ve incidentally known my entire life since his younger sister, Sunny, is my best friend.

  The off-season is about to come to an end, and training camp will start in less than two weeks. This last-hurrah weekend will be at Alex’s Chicago cottage, not the Ontario cottage where Randy and I first met. As much as I’d love to revisit that location, any kind of weekend away with Randy and my friends is welcome, and this cottage is much closer.

  With Sunny being pregnant, I’m sure things will be different from the usual booze fest and overly late nights. Or maybe not—Alex’s wife, Violet, and her friend Charlene Hoar are going to be there. Those two can drink like fish, and they like to stay up all hours of the night. I’m sure there will be dirty Scrabble games and shenanigans, both of which I’m looking forward to.

  I’m not used to having this much down time. Prior to moving to Chicago, I’d always worked more than one job, so only having one means a lot more freedom to pursue hobbies. Not that I worry too much about being idle; Randy keeps me busy when I’m not teaching skating lessons. I don’t have the opportunity to get bored—especially not since I moved in with him about four months ago and he enrolled me in beard riding classes.

  I figured maybe once we were living together his insatiableness would wane, at least a little. It hasn’t. While I’ve been teaching this morning, he’s been texting me all the places he thinks we should have sex when we get to the cottage. Ironically, a bathroom hasn’t even made the top five. The forest is a prime pick. He’s mentioned playing hide and seek more than once, but the way he says it makes me think his version will be a lot different than the game I played with Sunny as a kid.

  The door to the changing room squeaks as it opens. Someone needs to get out the WD-40 and deal with that. I’m around the corner, out of view, so I call out a hello to avoid scaring whoever it is. I get nothing back. A chill runs up my spine at the sound of distinctly non-feminine footfalls. Relief forces my heart back down from my throat when Randy peeks his head around the jamb.

  “What’re you doing in here?” I ask, double knotting my skate before lowering my foot to the rubber-padded floor.

  He scans my outfit, and a devious grin pulls up the corner of his mouth. “Stopping in for a quick visit.”

  “In the women’s staff locker room? What if someone else was in here with me?” It’s a reasonable question. Occasionally I’m not the only instructor on the ice.

  His eyes widen, and he checks over his shoulder. “Is there someone else here?”

  “No. But there could’ve been.”

  “But you’re telling me there isn’t,” he confirms.

  I nod. “Still. What if you’d seen one of the other girls naked?”

  He frowns and runs a hand over his beard, looking anxious. “I didn’t think about that.”

  “Just imagine how embarrassed I’d be if someone else’s boyfriend walked in while I was naked.” Now I’m messing with him.

  The furrow in his brow deepens, and his eyes go dark. If I didn’t have a session in fifteen minutes, I’d be excited about that look, because it typically means very good things for the Vagina Emporium. Sadly, she’s covered in multiple layers of fabric. And I’m hours away from any kind of relief for the ache that’s flared low in my belly.

  “Only I see you naked,” Randy barks.

  I snicker-snort. Sometimes Randy can be so very irrationally male.

  He stalks forward to loom over me. “You think that’s funny?”

  “Someone else seeing me naked? No, I don’t think that’s funny at all. Your reaction to the unlikely possibility is, though. When we get to Alex’s cottage, should we put you in a loincloth? We’ll rename you a random sound, and you can club me over the head and drag me into the forest. We’ll live in a cave, and you can battle bears to entertain me.” I bite the inside of my cheek to hold in my laughter.