Chapter Five

Hunter

Before leaving the office, I call Dani again, planning to give her shit for ignoring my calls and not returning my messages, but she’s apparently intent on denying me that pleasure. As a last resort, I decide to track her down and confront her face to face. It’s not hard. All I have to do is type her name into a search engine, and I have the name of the shop where she works, Skyn Ink, located on the opposite end of downtown.

When I climb out of my car, however, I begin to feel nervous. Ridiculous. I’m not a nervous person. I’m a strong ass, confident alpha male. I pull myself together on the outside, but inside my head is racing as I make my way down the street and to her shop.

From outside, the tattoo shop seems nondescript. It shares the same brick exterior as so many buildings in this city, but above the door is pink neon signage over a white background.

I’ve never been in a tattoo shop before. I’ve been afraid of needles since I was a young kid, but I’m hoping I managed to hide that little fact from Dani when she was giving me shit about that bet.

I exhale and pull myself together before pulling the black glass door open.

A bell rings over my head as I step into the dark space that looks a bit like an art gallery. It’s more upscale than I ever would have imagined, with frames lining the far left wall and recessed lighting offering glimpses of light through patterned darkness.

I step to the front desk and lean over, looking for a bell to alert someone that I’m here. Just as I spot a bell situated on the opposite side of the counter, a woman peels back a black curtain behind the counter and emerges.

She’s stunning, a real head-turner with deep emerald green eyes and curled dark brown hair. She’s tan, with the faintest hint of a tattoo peaking out from underneath the rolled sleeves of her white blouse.

“Can I help you?” she asks with a warm smile, placing both palms on the counter top.

“I’m looking for Dani.”

“Right.” She nods, her eyes taking measure of me. “You don’t look like Dani’s type. Is this business or pleasure?”

I’m startled by her boldness. “Excuse me?”

She just smiles and shakes her head. “Never mind. Look, we technically closed fifteen minutes ago, but silly me forgot to flip the locks.” She steps from around the counter and to the door, holding it open for me. “So, if you want to try again tomorrow—”

“This is terrible customer service,” I say with a smile, but quickly realize she’s not joking. “Is she here or not?”

She sighs and pulls the door shut before crossing her arms. “You’re obviously not here for an appointment and by the looks of it, you’re not going to be setting up one anytime soon.”

“You’re still not answering my question.”

She rolls her eyes then pushes past me, brushing her shoulder against my bicep. “I’ll be back.”

After she disappears behind the black curtains, presumably to grab Dani, I examine some of the art framed against the brick backdrop. Most of the tattoos represented are watercolors. The designs run the gamut from simple and serene to complicated and fantastical. There’s one particular tattoo that sparks my interest in it’s simple beauty: a sky of watercolor clouds with a blue sun’s rays piercing through the pink and purple clouds.

“Do I need to file a restraining order?” A familiar voice says from behind me, and a satisfied grin hitches across my lips as I turn. Dani leans against the counter with her elbow propped against the countertop. She’s wearing a sheer black top exposing a black bra underneath and skin tight jeans that hug her sexy ass curves.

“Why are you ignoring my calls?”

She shrugs and looks over my shoulder. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

The girl from earlier emerges from behind the dark curtains again, this time with her purse over her shoulder. She marches between Dani and I, and heads straight for the door. She cranes her head over her shoulder as she pushes through the glass doors. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Eve.” Dani waves goodbye with a genuine smile before turning back to me with a look of annoyance painted on her lips. “Look, I just finished a long day and I’d like to head home.”

“So you can continue ignoring my calls?”

“Doesn’t feel so great, does it?”

“Ah. Payback?”

She sighs. “No. I’ve just been busy.”

She does look tired. “Why don’t you finish packing up? I’ll walk you out.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Humor me.”

She rolls her eyes and turns, disappearing behind those black curtains. I stand motionless for a second before deciding to follow her to whatever’s behind door number three.

Once on the other side of the curtain, I pause just to get a good look at the place. There are eight work stations, each outfitted with a white curtain hung like a shower curtain around a claw foot bathtub. Black leather chairs, assorted tools of the trade, and Craftsman toolboxes are at each station.

At the very back of the open space is another set of black curtains, which a huge, muscular, bearded and bald man pushes aside as he enters. Every inch of visible skin from his neck down is covered in tattoos and he has a thick nose piercing.

As he approaches Dani and I, he snarls.

“Relax,” Dani tells him. “He’s a friend.”

“Right.” He growls and stares me down. “If you need anything, ring me.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Rob.”

He grunts, continuing to stare at me until he disappears out into the front room.

“Scary guy, huh?” Dani taunts.

“No.” I shake my head, lying through my teeth. “I wouldn’t say that at all.”

She steps up to a workstation. I follow suit and peer at the wicked looking tools of her trade. I feel the color drain out of my face and panic runs through me. I blink as I start to feel light headed, and—

“Hunter!”

I hear Dani call my name just about the time I feel someone grab my arm. I blink a few more times until Dani’s face comes into focus again.

“Holy shit,” she says, eyes wide. “You’re afraid of needles.”

“What?” I try snorting and laughing with disdain, but it’s clear from her expression she’s not buying it. I wave my hand. “I’m not fond of needles, no.”

Part of me half expects her to say something nasty, but her expression softens and then she shrugs and turns away. I frown, not liking the feeling that she’s dismissing my fear. Dismissing me.

“Maybe it’s time I face my fear,” I blurt out. Immediately, I mentally cringe, but keep my expression blank so as not to give myself away.

“No need to do it anytime soon.”

“You don’t think I can actually do it?” I don’t want to admit that seeing Mr. Macho just now has me feeling like I have something to prove. To her. To myself.

“What, you think getting a tattoo is gonna sway me to your cause with Chad?”

“Not at all. I’m just surprised, I guess, that I liked some of the work displayed out there so much. Maybe I’d like having a tattoo. Or hell, maybe I’d like a piercing. They say it heightens sexual pleasure, right?”

“I’m not piercing your dick.”

This time I can’t help it and visibly wince. “As if I’d let you anywhere near my dick with a needle,” I shoot back. “But maybe someplace else.”

She reaches forward and lightly pinches the lobe of my right ear, the one she’d pinched much harder after I’d pretended I was going to kiss her. “How do you feel about an ear piercing?”

“I’d rather keep a clean image for my clients.”

“Fine.” She takes a step back and eyes me up and down. A challenge lights her eyes, and it sparks off tremors of excitement in my belly. “Take off your shirt.”

“What?”

“Take off your shirt.”

Slowly, I undo the buttons of my light blue shirt until I can drop it down my shoulders, and then tug my white tee over my head. Her eyes get lost somewhere between my firm chest and my ripped stomach. I can’t help but grin as I notice the way she looks at me, the same way I’ve been looking at her since I first saw her again.

“Now what?”

“How do you feel about a nipple piercing?” she says with a wicked smile that tells me she’s just joking. That she expects me to chicken out any second now.

How do I feel? Like I’d sooner have my balls in a vice than let anyone, even her, stick a needle in my nipple.

Obviously reading my expression, she shakes her head and waves her hand. “Got it. Never mind. It does hurt like hell, something I know first-hand.”

I swallow hard as my gaze drops to her chest. I see no sign that her nipples are pierced, but then again she’s wearing a bra. God, I need to see them. Touch and taste them. But first, I have to respond to the challenge she’s thrown down.

“Let’s do it.”

Her eyebrows pop up in surprise. “Hunter, you don’t have to—”

“Baby, you want to talk or you want to hurt me? I know you’re just chomping at the bit to do it.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she mutters almost so softly I don’t hear her.

“What was that?”

She stares at me, then presses her lips together. “Fine. You want to play chicken? Sit down.”

Damn, there’s something about the way she seems to think she’s in control that turns me on.

I purse my lips, asking myself if I’m really going to go through with this, but when she cocks a brow at me, I sit.

“Good boy,” she purrs after I slip down into the chair, the leather cool against my back.

She digs in the top drawer of the toolbox and produces a pre-packaged set of needles and then turns to me. I just about swallow my entire throat into my stomach, but try to remain brave on the outside. The last thing I can have is her thinking I’m weak.

She purses her lips as she slides her hands into a pair of latex gloves. The smacking of the latex against her flesh makes my cock skip.

“Are you sure about this, Hunter? Because like I said, you don’t have to—”

“I want to do it.” Inside, I’m panicking a little, but how bad can it be? “Hell, pierce them both.”

“How about we just stick to one for now?” She turns to me and pushes a silver cart beside me. She places the packaged kit onto the tray, and then soaks a paper towel with alcohol.

“This is going to be cold.” Gently, she swipes my left nipple clean with the alcohol and then throws the towel into the trash.

While she’s turned away, I exhale a series of short breaths trying to prepare myself for what’s to come. I haven’t had a needle near me since the last time I received shots in college, but I can’t tell her that. She’ll pounce right on my fears and take advantage of them.

When she finally turns back to me with the needle in hand, my vision goes blurry. It takes all the manly strength I have in my entire soul to remain conscious.

"Jesus, you look like you've seen a ghost! You sure you want to go through with this?"

“Shit,” I chuckle. “You’re just going to call me out like that?” I shake my head defiantly. “Nah, I’m good.”

There's no way I’m backing down. I can't let her think I'm weak. For some reason, I need to prove to her I’m just as manly as Rob. Hell, maybe, for the first time in my life, I’m feeling the need to prove it to myself. Because this chick is seriously messing with my head in ways no one ever has.

She rolls her eyes again, and uses her elbow to push stray strands of hair from her face. She’s silent, as if she’s a predator or something, as she approaches and when she finally pinches my nipple tight with a latex-covered hand, I have no choice left but to force my eyes closed.

“Okay, take a deep breath.”

I do what she says, even as I feel my toes curling in my shoes, bracing for the pain.

Fucking hell, what have I gotten myself into?