Inked Destiny

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Etaín stood naked in the shower, hot water and the heat of the men on either side of her eradicating most of the chill that lingered following her rescue from the Harlequin Rapist. “I could get used to this,” she said, eyes closed to savor the sensation of masculine hands gliding over slick flesh.

The truth of their feelings was a hum against her senses. They might have ensnared her equally but their call differed. With Cathal it was raw sensuality and fierce imperative, while Eamon was the attraction of like to like.

Had she once truly believed she was okay with casual sex and lack of permanence? Before Cathal and Eamon had come into her life, true intimacy had been impossible.

Skin didn’t lie to her. It was her gift, her curse, to be able to touch the eyes inked into her palms to skin and not only see another’s memories, but take them. She shivered, because now that gift was changing and her control of it failing.

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