Chapter 14: Skin to skin

Rick’s POV

"Hey."

The word left my throat rough and scratchy, sounding pathetic even to my own ears. I honestly didn't know what else to say. The sterile, quiet air of the private room instantly turned thick, heavy, and suffocatingly tense the second the door clicked shut behind Jax and Chloe.

Samantha wouldn't even look at me. She kept her profile turned away, her jaw set, purposefully staring at the wall as if I were a ghost. The silence from her was a physical ache in my chest. Unable to handle the distance, I stepped deeper into her space, moving until I was standing directly in front of her, blocking out the rest of the room.

"You look great," I murmured, my eyes dragging over her. The way the fabric clutched her curves made my hands twitch with a sudden, feral urge to reach out. "The dress is..."

My voice trailed off entirely as she finally tilted her head back and made direct eye contact with me. My heart slammed against my ribs. I couldn't make out what was on her mind—there was a storm of hurt and anger brewing in those beautiful eyes, and it completely paralyzed me.

"You look incredible," I breathed, the raw truth slipping out before I could stop it.

Before the words could even settle, she abruptly stood up, intending to brush right past me and leave. Panic, sharp and sudden, flared in my gut. I reached out, my fingers wrapping securely around her wrist to hold her back.

Fuck. She’s mad at me.

She didn't try to violently yank herself away, but she still wasn't saying a single word. She just stood there, trapped between my body and the chair, looking up into my eyes so intensely that the air left my lungs. The sheer weight of her gaze shattered my usual control; I couldn't seem to form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence.

"I don't want to speak to you, Rick," she said, her voice a quiet, lethal weapon that pierced right through me. "Let go of me."

I didn’t let go. Instead, my thumb instinctively brushed against the soft skin of her inner wrist, feeling the rapid, fluttering beat of her pulse. I inhaled deeply, trying my utmost best to choose my words carefully, terrified that if I said the wrong thing, she’d walk out of this shop and out of my life for good.

"I know that I've been MIA," I confessed, my voice dropping to a low, gravelly register. "And I know not checking on you was the worst. I'm sorry, Sammie."

"You said you were going to call, but you didn't," she threw back, the hurt finally bleeding into her tone. She stepped closer, confronting me, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "You lead me on. You care for me, and then you just ghost me?"

The accusation cut deep. I couldn't let her think she meant nothing to me. Not when she meant absolutely everything.

"Sammie, I care for you... a lot," I stressed, my grip tightening just a fraction, desperate to make her understand. "I couldn't stand the thought of seeing you hurt. My work... it gets dangerous sometimes. People get hurt in my world. Things get intense. Rivals... enemies... they're always hovering around, watching, waiting to take the things we hold dearest to our hearts."  

The anger in her face began to melt, replaced by a sudden, dawning realization. The tension in her shoulders vanished, and she visibly relaxed against me.

"That is why I decided to stay away from you," I admitted, the truth tearing at my throat. "To keep you safe."

"Somebody wants to hurt you?" she asked. The anger was completely gone now, replaced by so much genuine, heartbreaking concern in her eyes that it nearly brought me to my knees. She cared. Even after I broke her heart, she was worried about me.

"It's not something you should concern yourself about," I said, instantly hardening my tone to play the protector. "I've got it handled."

I gently released her wrist and gestured with my hand toward the leather tattoo chair, needing to break the spell before I pulled her into my arms right then and there. "Come... sit. I gathered you're here to get a tattoo?"

A breathless little giggle escaped her lips. "Yeah. Crazy, isn't it?"

"It's anything but crazy, Sammie," I murmured, watching her every move as she sat down on the edge of the chair.

I pulled up a rolling stool and sat directly opposite her, sliding in so close that our knees touched. The friction of her bare skin against my trousers sent a jolt of pure electricity straight up my spine. Neither of us moved. Neither of us backed away. The jazz music outside the door faded into background noise; the only thing that existed was the heat radiating between us.

"Badass," I counted off, my eyes locking onto hers. "Sexy."

Then, my gaze helplessly dropped to her lips. They were parted slightly, soft and inviting, practically begging to be tasted.

"Sensual," I finished, my voice thick with a yearning I could barely contain.

Samantha's breath hitched. She leaned in just a fraction, her eyes darkening as she trapped my gaze. "You think I'm sexy? Sensual?"

God, I need to get a hold of myself.

The scent of her perfume mixed with the sharp green soap of the room was intoxicating. Looking at her sitting there, completely ruling my entire existence without even trying, I knew I was a goner. This woman was simply irresistible.

"Sammie," I breathed. My voice carrying more breathless need than I intended. "You're a little too close."