Safe to love you (Ink Series - Spin Off Book 2) Read online

  Presley

  I have the most charming and charismatic woman in the world sitting beside me, sleeping soundly. I would love it if she could be mine, forever. I hope she will be, because I feel so much for her already. I could happily spend the rest of my life with her. I can’t stop watching her and I’m elated she agreed to come with me to New York. I love that she is trusting me enough to come with me. It’s a big step for her, I’m sure.

  I’m scared it’s happening too quickly, but I can’t help the way I feel. Abbie is exactly what I need in my life. The past couple of days have been magical, when we’ve talked for hours on the telephone. Everything I’ve learned about Abbie has only made me appreciate her even more.

  I press a kiss to her hair. I’m certain I'll remember the exact smell of her perfume, a thousand years from now. As we're about to land, I carefully remove my arms from around her neck, and adjust her seat belt, all without waking her up.

  I love New York. I’ve come here a couple of times in the past year, once for a tattoo convention, and a few times for photo shoots. I enjoy being in the city every single time. The photo shoot I’m working on today is being shot in the hotel where we’re staying, so I won't have to rush from to a set somewhere else in the city. We’ll have a bit of time to freshen up before I begin work.

  ''Come on, love, we’re here.'' I whisper huskily in her ear.

  Abbie opens her eyes slowly and I can see how tired she still is, despite the nap. This is going to be a rough day for her. ''You can go back to sleep once we get checked in to our room,'' I promise.

  Abbie sits up, rubbing at her eyes as she glances out the window. ''The last thing I want to do while I’m in New York is sleep, Presley.''

  I can't help but laugh; she's so cute. ''Alright, alright. We’ll find some coffee, grab a cab to the hotel and get to work then.''

  ''Sounds good.'' She concentrates on the view from the small window. Her face lights up in a grin that reaches her eyes. Right here and now, I know bringing Abbie to New York was the best plan I’ve had in a while.

  The view of Times Square is breathtaking. We stand outside on the balcony, enjoying the views. Abbie steps closer and encircles my waist with her arms.

  ''Thank you, Presley,'' she says, and I can hear the happiness in her voice.

  ''You’re welcome, Abbie. I'm happy to have you here in New York with me.'' I kiss her forehead and then the tip of her nose. She smiles. This sort of happiness is everything I wish for her.

  ''I love it when you kiss me like that; you have no idea how good it feels,'' she admits.

  I kiss her temple. ''I think I do, Abbie. You make me feel exactly the same way.'' I press another kiss to her neck and feel her smile when I kiss her lips.

  “If you want a separate room, I understand. It didn’t cross my mind until now. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.” I took for granted that we would spend the night here in the same room but now, I feel like a fool for not asking her beforehand.

  “No, I’m okay here with you.” I nod reassured. ''How long do we have until you have to be at the photo shoot?'' she questions.

  I glance at my watch, suddenly hopeful. ''We have a little over forty five minutes.''

  Her expression lights up. ''Enough time to go outside! I want to take some pictures of Times Square!''

  ''Pictures?'' I’d been hoping she wanted something a little more intimate.

  ''Yeah, it’s amazingly cool here and I’ve never been to New York before.'' Abbie slips inside the room and searches through her backpack, producing a camera. She grins delightedly.

  I lift an eyebrow. “That’s your camera?'' I can’t help it, I chuckle. It's a basic red digital camera, and she suddenly seems a little embarrassed, so I try to make her feel better. ''Abbie, this is your first trip to New York – borrow one of my cameras. At least you’ll have some good quality pictures to remember your trip.''

  She puts a hand on her hip, but I can see she’s amused. ''Presley, you are such an ass. My camera works just fine,'' she pouts.

  ''Don’t even think of bringing it along with you. I’m telling you now...'' I can’t help laughing and Abbie begins to giggle. ''You are seriously going to ruin my photographic career if anyone sees us with your camera.'' I hold out a hand. “C’mon, let’s go see Times Square.”

  Within a short period of time, I've already taken seventy-nine photos of her. Abbie is a natural beauty, and it comes effortlessly for her. We had a long flight last night, and yet, she's looking marvellous. I love her Converse sneakers and her skin-tight jeans. She’s sexy, even wearing a basic t-shirt. Her hair is hanging loose and, sometimes, the breeze catches it. She's not even aware of me as she takes in the excitement of her surroundings, and I know there isn't a single shot in there that isn’t breathtaking. Abbie is naturally photogenic and adorable. When she does meet my eyes, I see the light in hers. I hope I'm responsible for that sparkle of life.

  ''May I?'' She wants to take photos of me and the idea makes me a little nervous. I'm not used to being on the other side of the camera; I’d rather be behind it.

  ''Hmm... Yeah... sure.” I put it on automatic mode for her; it's a little easier for a newbie and the last thing I want is for her to get frustrated with all the settings and miss one of the most incredible cities in the world. Abbie holds the camera in her little hands, and I slip the strap around her neck, just in case.

  ''Come on, Presley. Model for me.'' She's pretending to be a photographer and I grin. ''Come on... just pretend like you're modelling in a Calvin Klein ad.'' I start posing, just to make her laugh. Her laughter is like a drug, and I can’t imagine what my days used to be like before I heard that sweet sound. The sound is literally my heaven on earth. She comes closer and I think she’s going to kiss me.

  ''Take that off.'' She tugs at my beanie, snatching it off my head and now it’s war. Nobody ever gets to touch my beanie, I always wear it when I’m doing a shoot, it’s practically an expectation from my clients. I try hard not to laugh. ''Abbie, give it back.'' I shake my head a little; my hair’s all flattened out. ''Abbie, this is not fair.'' Click click click. Damn it, she’s taking photos!

  ''Presley, you are such a girl.'' She throws the beanie at me.

  I laugh at her statement. ''Abbie, you are such a....” I shake my head and grin. “Damn, I can’t even say anything mean about you.''

  I capture her hand in mine and pull her closer, kissing her again. I’m so addicted to those lips. I want them to be available to me, always. ''You are adorable, Miss Rylee.'' I change the settings on the camera, moving my face closer to hers as I take a few shots of us together. ''There, enough for now or I’m gonna be late for the shoot.'' I kiss her forehead. ''Are you coming with me, or do you want to do some sightseeing?''

  “Of course I’m coming with you.'' She slaps my butt playfully and for the first time, I think I’m getting to see the real Abbie. She's perfect.

  ''Maybe I could get us coffee, while you get set up,'' she proposes.

  Hell, she is perfect. ''Sure. I’ll have whatever you’re having.''

  If life is going to be this easy with Abbie, I'm in. So far, things are so natural and uncomplicated. I give her directions to where I’m doing the shoot and watch her walk down the street towards a Starbucks. I’m excited about the day; convinced that nothing can go wrong. I head back to our room, transfer the photos from this morning onto my computer and grab all the gear I need for the shoot. I run to the elevator and try to clamp down on the ridiculous smile I feel on my lips, but I just can't. I feel like an idiot, but in a good way. Abbie has done this for me.

  Chapter SEVEN

  Abbie

  TIMES SQUARE. I’m absolutely speechless. Me – Abbie Rylee – is standing in Times Square! It’s just how I’d pictured it would be, except ten times better. The buildings are plastered with publicity, there are vendors everywhere and people in every direction I look. I can now understand what it is about New York that people love. Walking down the street, I th
ink back on Presley taking picture after picture before he headed back upstairs. Hopefully, they're not all of me.

  I grin, thinking about the look on his face when I stole his beanie. The beanie makes Presley look both rebellious and mysterious, which only serves to make him even hotter. He’s so happy when he's taking pictures.

  I loved the look on his face when I asked him for the camera. I’m happy that he agreed to let me, even if it was begrudgingly. I take a few moments before heading into the coffee shop, just breathing in the moment, enjoy this new life. Enjoying the thought of him.

  After my Starbucks trip, I return to the hotel with coffee and sandwiches. I'm sure Presley will have a million things on his mind and not want to eat, but I’m certain he must be hungry by now. I’m almost positive the Starbucks employees were convinced I was smuggling a bear under my shirt with how loud my stomach was rumbling.

  Once I’m back inside the Marriott, I find the set with only a couple wrong turns along the way. Right away when I walk into the room I’m uncomfortable, intimidated and ready to bolt. I don't see Presley anywhere. The only thing I focus on is the models, and they leave me absolutely speechless. They’re all so young and striking. Their hair, makeup and clothing are exactly like I’ve seen in fashion magazines. I love the edgy style they have going on.

  I'm suddenly uncertain about whether I’ll stay. Glancing around the room, I see Presley’s cameras and equipment spread all over the place to one side. It’s so much more than I thought; abruptly reminding me this is the real deal. He is a professional photographer, a famous photographer. I set Presley’s coffee and lunch next to his equipment on a long table.

  When Presley enters the set, he stares at me as if I’m the only person in the room, but I notice all the models are staring at him and there’s a carnal look in their collective eyes. There's nothing official between Presley and me, but I’m clearly jealous of the attention he’s garnering. And I hate admitting it.

  ''Hey, Abbie, love!'' He wraps his arm around my waist and kisses my neck softly.

  ''I got you coffee and a little something to eat.'' I smile, but it's artificial and forced. My discomfort has struck me hard and as much as I want to stay here, see Presley in action and support him, I also can’t deny that all I want to do is leave.

  ''Perfect, I’m starving.'' He grabs the paper bags, shakes out the contents, and starts eating. It’s a stark reminder that this is normal for him. ''Are you okay?'' he asks between bites.

  ''Yeah, yeah... I'm okay.'' Cue fake smile number two.

  ''Don't be intimidated by this...'' He motions towards the set. ''This is... well, it’s a lot of work on the set, but it's nothing really...and the girls...I think they’re all about seventeen. It’s crazy. It's a perfume ad, so it shouldn't take too long to shoot.''

  Presley isn’t nervous and he doesn’t even seem to notice that the other girls in the room are barely dressed. It makes me feel better. ''Yeah, well... like you said it's a lot of work. What can I do to help?''

  He glances across his equipment, taking mental note of everything. ''Hmmm... For now there isn't much to do.” He indicates towards where the models are being primped by the designer and make-up artists. “They're running late.''

  I move closer to Presley, and wrap my arms around his shoulders. I need to feel his body against me.

  ''I needed that, too.'' He kisses my hair and holds me tightly against him. He breathes against my neck, which sends shivers down my entire body. I love his kisses and they always leave me wanting more. We eat our lunch and I spend the time adjusting to my new environment. People are running in every direction, the pace is hectic all around us. Make-up artists, directors, and stylists – it's enough to make me dizzy.

  When they’re finally ready to start the session, Presley's supreme concentration reduces him to silence. He makes final adjustments to his camera and the first model appears.

  “Can you hold the bottle of perfume in the palm of your hand?” He gives her specific orders, letting her know what he wants and she does exactly as he asks.

  She’s tall, thin with long black hair and baby blue eyes. The same color as the perfume. Honestly, she’s the type of girl who catches the attention. These perfume ads won’t go unnoticed.

  Presley takes numerous shots while she takes different pause. It looks effortless. Sometimes she smiles, and other times, it’s all about her eyes. As if they could smile.

  I have to admit, his way of working with the models is impressive.

  The session is done. Presley took hundreds of pictures, and gave dozens of commands to the girls: place your arm like this, your legs like that, smile a little more, smile a little less, smile naturally. He obviously knows what he's doing, and it amazes me. He's really good at what he does and the people who hired him seem extremely satisfied with the shoot.

  It’s inspiring. I bet Presley’s family is proud of him and his success. Every move he made; every click of the camera just made him radiate talent and utter sexiness. Presley was the only thing I could focus on throughout the entire shoot and I’m not at all ashamed to admit that. My gaze kept focusing on the tattoos on his arm, visible with the shirt he’s wearing. I love it, but I can’t explain why it fascinates me so much. I think it just adds to his charm. I must be the shittiest assistant ever, because I didn’t do a thing. I just stood around watching him.

  The models are leaving the set, and he walks back towards me. ''Done. I am done.'' He says, opening his arms ready for me. “Come here.” I don't hesitate and meet him halfway. I’m treated to a kiss on the lips this time and I'm loving it. Presley looks exhausted; he worked hard all day and hardly slept on the flight.

  ''What do you want to do now?'' he asks.

  ''I don't know. What do you want to do? I mean, you must be tired.''

  Presley shrugs. ''Yeah, but like you said, we’re in New York. There's no way I'm going upstairs to the room to sleep. There has to be something else to do in this city.'' He slides his hands slowly down from my waist to my behind. He’s never done it before, and I'm certainly not going to stop him.

  ''We could take a walk. Central Park, maybe?'' I’ve seen it in so many movies and it always looks so romantic.

  ''Sounds good. I just need to take my gear back to the room.'' He squeezes my behind and it sends an electrical charge buzzing all over my body. Sexual tension is definitely building between us.

  The sun is almost gone, and we're lying on a blanket in Central Park. This place is even better than what I'd seen in the movies. It’s an oasis surrounded by concrete. Everyone seems happy, exercising or simply sitting with friends and talking. It isn’t anything like the forests we have in Washington, but I adore the vibe around here. Presley's sitting against a tree and my back is leaning on his chest. He circles my waist with his arms, beneath my t-shirt. I love the feeling of his skin against mine. It's an indescribable sensation. So incredibly warm and soft, his touch brings a sense of deep contentment. He continually kisses my neck; I'm certain I’m never going to get tired of this. His affection, his tenderness– it makes me feel so loved and safe. I never felt like this when I was with Dean. I realize everything is happening too quickly, but in all honesty, I don’t think I’m strong enough to slow it down. I don’t want this to slow down. There is not a single thing wrong with Presley; he’s everything my heart and soul need.

  ''Can I ask you something... personal?'' I ask. I’m suddenly nervous, certain I shouldn’t have voiced the question aloud.

  ''Yeah, sure.'' Presley doesn’t hesitate.

  ''Who is the woman – the one who’s tattooed on your chest?'' His whole body tenses behind me, and I definitely regret asking. ''Forget it, Presley; you don’t need to answer that question. I was curious, that’s all.''

  He visibly forces himself to relax and I turn a little, so I can see his face. ''No, it’s okay, Abbie. It’s my mother.''

  ''She’s stunning.'' I admit. I pause for a few seconds, but he doesn’t say anything more. ''You look a lot l
ike her.''

  His smile is serene. ''Everything about her is in the past. She was an artist, a free spirit, you know?'' He sighs and a few tense seconds pass before he continues. ''She left us. My brother, Joshua, my dad, and my sister – she left us when I was five years old. I heard she passed away, years later.''

  ''So the last time you saw her, you were five years old?'' It’s so sad and my heart breaks for him.

  ''Yeah. I don't remember much about her. I remember she would play the piano, and her voice was soft, melodic, but that’s it.'' He sighs. ''Joshua remembers more about her than I do. He was eight.''

  ''I’m sorry.'' I shouldn’t have asked about her.

  ''Don’t be sorry. It's alright now. I wish she had stayed with us, but she made her choice, and that’s okay too. We all make choices in our lives, and some have more impact than others.''

  I turn around so we are facing each other. He is so mature about his situation, so matter of fact. He seems at peace with his mother’s decisions. ''My dad died, two years ago.” I admit quietly. “He had cancer. My mom's alive, but I don't know where she is. We don't talk anymore. I don't have any brothers or sisters, so I’m pretty much on my own nowadays.''

  Presley leans forward and brushes my hair back from my face. ''No, you’re not alone, Abbie. You have me.'' He's right, I have him and I love it. My heart is more than happy to hear him voice it... and I want him to say it again because it sounds too good to be true.

  ''Yes, I do.'' I press a kiss to his lips, pleased that he’s just as serious about this fledgling relationship as I am. About us.

  ''I like you, you know that, right?'' he whispers huskily.

  ''I think I do.'' He kisses me back softly and passionately. ''I want you to be mine,'' I admit shyly, not convinced I should have said it aloud. Maybe I should have kept my thoughts to myself for a while longer.

  ''I already am... I'm yours, love. All yours.'' He places his index finger under my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes; those ravishing and stunning grey eyes. ''I feel it with you, Abbie, I really like you, and I think you’re incredibly special. I know all this is happening too quickly, but I’m convinced we’re better when we're together.''