No Guts, No Gasms (Sex with strangers, Contemporary Erotica)

When he approaches her at the tattoo parlor...

“So what’d you decide on?” Travis asked near her ear, inhaling the light jasmine scent of her
shampoo and feeling it settle in his lungs like a punch to the gut. “Have you picked something
out?”

After jumping at the sound of his voice, she spun to face him and her eyes lit up like it was
Christmas. “You came! I mean, hi.”

Then she stood there, beaming, gazing at him as though Santa had just dropped him off in
front of her fireplace. Trav felt about ten feet tall. “The tattoo?” he reminded, grinning.

“This one.” She blushed and pointed to a wicked line drawing of a tiger. He approved. “I
was born in the year of the Chinese tiger.”

Travis winked. “Year of the cock.”

Her eyes flared. “Are you getting another tattoo?”

“Not tonight. They’re addictive. I’ve put myself on a tattoo moratorium until I turn thirty.
Then I’ll reconsider. See what skin is left…see what appeals.”

“And that’ll be when?” she fished.

Trav willingly took the bait. “A little less than two years.”

“Really?”

“I know. I already look thirty. Hell, forty.”

“No you don’t. Not anywhere near forty. Early thirties, maybe, but you’re still gorgeous.”
She slapped a hand over her mouth.

So damn innocent. He leaned in close. Are you a virgin? “What’d you come here for?”

And a little while later, after she goes under the needle (or not) ...

When Travis placed his arm across my lower back and escorted me into the night, all I noticed was the blood rushing between my inner thighs. I wanted him and I didn’t care if he knew it. No guts, no glory…

I turned to him. “Will you take me?”

“Home?”

Take me. I couldn’t say it again. Instead, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him, hoping he’d take over, hoping he’d know—

His mint-flavored tongue banished all thought.

He pressed his lips hard against mine and explored my mouth. After the way he’d undressed me with his eyes, aroused me with his words, I didn’t need preliminaries.

This wouldn’t be the floundering attempts of a frat boy or the first-time sprint of a high school senior. This would be sex with a sexy stranger.

Hands around my waist, he picked me up and walked through the shadowy parking lot. Headlights zoomed past. Horns blared in the distance.

The oppressive, humid heat settled in my gut, fed by his mouth on mine, increased by his calloused thumbs edging beneath my top…

To read what else he does (and see whether she gets that tattoo), buy the story!