Body Of Art by Nikki Winter Page A

laughing!”
    She chuckled harder. “All you need is bagpipes and a kilt and you’d feel right at home.”
    His eyes narrowed on the back of her shirt, wondering if the hem would stretch well enough up over her head.
    “Don’t even think about it, Sully.”
    “Stop irritating me!”
    “Now you sound like Fat Bastard!”
    Oh that was it! Sully reached for her. Rhona ducked out of the way just as a door swung open in between them, blocking him from getting to shake her around the way he discovered he could the summer he had his first growth spurt.
    “Help! He’s trying to kill me!” His sister cried dramatically, peeking just around the edge of the door.
    “Something tells me you had it coming.” A voice replied softly, the husky tone momentarily taking his focus away from the need to strangle his sibling.
    Sully looked down at the owner of that voice and his whole body just kind of jerked. May the good Lord forgive my thoughts. He mentally prayed, his eyes catching sight of a toned tummy, a small diamond winking at him from an adorable little navel. It made him question if there were anywhere else on the body before him that had small treasures for him to find.
    “Channing,” Rhona was saying in the distance. Or at least it felt like the distance because he had tunnel vision. “This is my brother Sully. He...oh for Christ sake would you stop staring man!”
    His head snapped up, just to catch the hard glare his sister was shooting him, arms folded impatiently across her chest. He swallowed, muttered, “Sorry.” Then he stuffed his hands in his pockets and desperately tried not to stare. But fuck, it wasn’t like he could help it.
    She had to be at least five foot nine to his six foot four height. Her form was amazingly proportioned. Her breasts weren’t too full but just heavy enough to press enticingly against the ribbed tank covering her upper body, decolletage teasing him; waist was small enough to span with his hands but her hips were generously curved. Skin was the shade of rich coffee with just a touch of cream. Her eyes were large, catlike and a coppery brown that sparkled. Jet black hair was cut into the feminine version of a mohawk, trimmed closely on the sides but left several inches longer and slightly curled on top.
    Over the last few years since Rhona had moved to Washington with her fiance Keith and Fiona, he’d heard the occasional mention of Channing Harris but he’d never actually gotten a glimpse of her. She’d apparently become his little sister’s best friend when the two had a near brawl over a pair of sandals in the middle of a popular shoe store in Tacoma. Women were weird, was the conclusion he’d come to after absentmindedly listening to the story. At the time he’d been tattooing the thigh of a very flexible brunette so he’d only heard the brief description that Channing’s gorgeous, Channing’s  a dancer, Channing’s incredible , blah, blah, blah.
    Now standing in front of her, Sully damn well understood why Rhona had made friends with her. Shit, he wanted to make friends with her. Or preferably, her ass. Because really, they could talk later right? Like after he fucked her silly and put a ring on her finger with a diamond the size of quarter. In his mind, there was no way this woman would ever be with anyone else again.
    If Rhona sung her praises so highly--whether Sully paid attention or not--it let him know two things; Channing truly was amazing and that if she weren’t already taken, she damn well would be by the time his stay in Seattle was done.
     
    ***
     
              “Um...hi.”
              He was staring. Why was he staring? Could she get Rhona to make him stop staring? It was skeeving her out and when she got skeeved, people ended up hurt. Having the equivalent of a human wall gaze down at her was...disconcerting. His eyes were so blue that for a moment she wondered if he were wearing contacts.
              Channing had listened to