Snaketattos Stories

He chuckled, cocky as ever. "Not gonna read it?" he teased, leaning against the wall like he was posing for some Calvin Klein ad. All relaxed. All sin. Letting me take in the story of his tattoos like he was an open book-pages inked in temptation. I cleared my throat. "I mean, I'm curious... but..." He bit his lip. "Don't worry, baby. Read it." I hesitated-but my eyes went there anyway, like they had a mind of their own. And then I saw it. "Your move, baby. I don't play soft." The way my breath whooshed out of me-like someone knocked the air right from my lungs. He stepped closer, slow and smooth, until his hands found my waist. "But I'll be soft if you want me to," he murmured, voice dipped in heat.