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Considering Carrie was practically panting from his gentle touch and the vibration of his tattoo gun, that wasn’t hard. She’d utilized every ounce of restraint she had to lie still while he worked. Squirming would’ve ruined his art.

“It’s gone,” she finally whispered.

Was that a relieved sigh that escaped Kid? Had he been worried?

She turned toward him as she openly wept. “It’s beautiful.”

Stepping closer to him, she extended her arms and wrapped him in a hug. As she pulled him against her body, his stiff erection was hard to miss.

Though, when he twisted his pelvis away from her, she missed the feel of his hardness.

“You’re welcome,” he said, returning the affection.

She rested her head against his chest and squeezed him tightly. She wasn’t ready to let him go. He’d become her safe haven.

Their embrace lingered. He seemed just as reluctant as she was to end their hug. While holding her, he skimmed his hands down her body.

Her bare skin popped and sizzled as his palms rested on her hips. The gesture wasn’t sexual. Though, considering she was at level eleventy million on her arousal meter, anything he did had her on the verge of moaning his name.

This emotionally charged moment only amplified her attraction to him. She knew what he was capable of, and the pleasures he could dole out. She ached to experience it again.

Though that wouldn’t be wise. They’d agreed to end their tryst. There was no reason to revisit it.

Well, except for the yearning.

“I should probably get this dressed so you don’t get an infection,” he said.

She understood the reluctance in his tone but hated it.

He placed his hand on the small of Carrie’s back and guided her to the tattoo table where he applied a thin layer of ointment over her fresh tattoo while he reviewed aftercare instructions with her. This was her first real tattoo, so she listened intently to his directions while he applied a covering.

“You can remove the second skin adhesive tomorrow. Make sure you wash your hands before you touch your new ink,” he said with all his focus on her pussy.

He was a professional. She had to remind herself that he wasn’t looking at her sex in a lusty sort of way—no matter how erotic this moment felt.

“Use a fragrance-free, antibacterial soap three times a day. Pat it dry with a paper towel before you apply a thin layer of this tattoo balm,” he said as he reached into a drawer and offered her several sample packets.

She nodded, accepting what he’d given her.

“Now for the lists of don’ts,” he said, leveling her with a playful expression.

She wrinkled her nose. “This doesn’t sound good.”

“Avoid tight waistbands, restrictive underwear, or leggings. Friction and trapped moisture can cause severe irritation, scabbing, or infection.”

“That sounds bad,” she admitted.

He nodded his agreement. “No workouts that would lead to excessive sweating for the next two to three weeks and…”

He cleared his throat.

She peered at him.

He licked his bottom lip and shifted as though uncomfortable. Avoiding her eyes, he scrubbed the back of his neck. “No sexual contact for a week or two.”

Oh…

“None at all?” she asked teasingly.