Just My Type by Erin Nicholas Read Free Book Online

psych medications, putting his fist through a solid object and not doing all of the things to and with her that Sam would—justifiably—kill him for.
    There was good reason he’d always ignored his attraction to Sara. Yes, she was younger than him, and his best friend’s sister. Even more, she was the opposite of what he liked now. She was one of the sweet girls. The girls he had a horrible track record with. The girls his own grandmother had told him to stay away from. He was no good for a girl who didn’t like to get her hands dirty, was always surrounded by friends, liked high heels and manicures and had no idea how great nipple clamps could be.
    So now what?
    There was no way in hell he could sit here and watch her seduce someone else. Or more than one someone else. A quick glance around the bar ensured him it wouldn’t take her much more than a hip swivel and a smile to have five or six young studs begging at her feet.
    He couldn’t book her on the first flight out of here like he wanted to, for all of the reasons he’d told her earlier, and because he’d promised not to.
    That left him only one option at the moment: sit at the bar, drink, cut in when necessary and keep his zipper zipped.
    He watched her dance with two guys at one time for about four minutes before stomping across the sand again. Of course, stomping on sand wasn’t nearly as satisfying as stomping on firm surfaces.
    “Let’s both drink,” he said.

    Just My Type
    She spun to face him, still undulating her hips as she looked up at him with a smile. “I already had a drink.”
    “You need more.” His eyes dropped to her mouth. Then lower. He’d never seen her bare stomach, or back, and he was enthralled. To say the least.
    Her sarong had slipped down slightly as her hips moved and three silver loops caught his eye.
    Without thinking he reached out a hand, inserted the tip of his index finger in the top of the skirt and pulled it lower. His touch effectively stopped her movements. She froze as the pink, yellow and blue flowered material slipped down, revealing an intricate looping design that looked like vines. It spanned from one hip bone to the other just under her belly button and above the top edge of her bikini bottoms. The ink was a silvery color that sparkled in the light of the tiki torches and setting sun.
    “What the fuck is that?” he demanded. He was aware the back of his finger rested against the warm, silky skin of her stomach still inside the top edge of the sarong, but he was much more concentrated on the pattern marring that skin.
    She stared up at him. “Just for fun.”
    “Is it a tattoo?” he asked, watching her lick her lips. She seemed nervous. Or something. She was breathing quickly and the only thing moving besides the rapid rise and fall of her chest was that tongue.
    “Um…body paint.”
    He wanted to wipe it away, leave her unmarked. Yet, he also wanted to trace the design. Over and over again. With his tongue. It was sexy as hell. Even as he hated it and the fact someone had applied it to a part of her body he’d never seen, not to mention touched, he was incredibly aroused. Dammit.
    “Not permanent?” he asked.
    She shook her head and swallowed hard. “I’m still deciding.”
    “On?”
    “The tattoo.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “I haven’t decided what to get. Or where.”
    “You’re getting a tattoo.”
    “Yes.”
    “Is that right.”
    She frowned slightly. “Yes.”
    “Why?”
    “You like tattoos.”
    “I do?”
    “Almost every woman you date has one.”
    “How do you know?”

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    Erin Nicholas
    “I’ve seen them. Samantha had that one on the back of her neck, Holly had one on her lower back and Kate had them all over.”
    “Why did you say almost?” He hadn’t realized she’d seen so many of the women he dated. He supposed he hadn’t thought she’d care enough to make note of them. Or their names. Or their tattoos.
    “I didn’t see