Chapter Three
Ryn
“Ryn.” Jagger’s voice comes from the back. He’s finished his last client and mine is taking a break. I’m just about done, putting a few final finishing touches to the piece I started almost eight hours ago. I’ve nearly completed my first full back tattoo. “Can you lock up tonight? I’m taking Ava out for dinner. Also, there’s one more client just needing a quick touch up, he’ll be here soon.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ve got a babysitter so Roxie is all sorted. I’m almost finished anyway,” I tell him. Jagger smiles, his eyes crinkling in amusement at my expression. It’s my biggest piece, and I’m tired.
“You’ll get used to doing these more often. Just you wait, you’ll love it.” He pats me on the back in a friendly gesture before making his way out the door.
With a quick glance in the appointment book, I notice there’s a name in the five-thirty space, Slade. Thankfully a touch up is quick work, because all I want to do is go home and make dinner. Also, a hot bubble bath is calling my name and I’m dying to respond.
“Ready to finish up?” I call to the girl who’s done well having her whole back inked in one sitting. Granted, I didn’t color it, but the outline normally is more painful because of the needles used.
“Thanks, Ryn. I’m so happy you were able to get this done today.” She smiles, hopping back onto the table. As we get comfortable, I start on the small lines I left for last, adding soft shading in the corners. Wings are popular with young girls, but these are incredible. Two large raven’s wings on either shoulder blade, running down her back to the top of her ass.
I lose time when I finally sit back and my neck cracks painfully from being in one position for so long. “That’s it, doll. You’re done.” She moves, pushing off the bed to check out the ink.
“Fucking awesome!” Her excitement is contagious, because as I take in my artwork, I can’t help smiling. It is pretty incredible. “Thank you so much, this is perfect.”
“It’s a pleasure. Let me get some photos, and I’ll wrap you up.” It doesn’t take long to finish up and send her on her way.
Before I can lock the door, the bell dings, alerting me to a customer. “Did you forget—” My words are halted when I meet a pair of hazel eyes of the man standing in the doorway. This asshole is one I steer clear of. Being Jagger’s best friend, he comes in here a few times a week.
At six-feet, with broad shoulders, ink running from his hands to his shoulders, he’s the picture of bad boy. With those forest-colored eyes, rugged, angular jaw, cocky smile and the way his left eyebrow quirks in question, I find myself gawking at him.
We’ve never been alone together, and the air seems somewhat heavy with lust. It’s been years since I’ve been with anyone, let alone on a date, so I feel like a teenager caught in front of her high school crush with a mouth full of teeth and no words to utter.
“I could never forget you, sweetheart,” he responds with a heavy drawl, snapping me out of my reverie. I’ve been drinking him in like a fine wine. And I don’t even like wine.
“What can I do for you, Slade?” I ask, not playing into his flirting. Crossing my arms in front of my chest is the first mistake because his eyes flit to my breasts.
“I’m here to get my ink tidied up. Didn’t Jag mention I’d be stopping by?” he asks, stepping farther into the store, allowing a spicy scent mixed with the smell of sweat to hang heavy in the air—pure masculine pheromones intoxicate me. Fuck.
“I just finished a full back piece and we’re closed.”
“Aw, come on, darling. Don’t be like that. Unless you can’t handle me?” He chuckles, tipping his head to the side, watching me, desire clear in his alluring eyes.
“I can ink better than most male artists. I’ve just had a long day. Can’t you come back tomorrow when Jagger is here?” I ask, opening the appointment book to keep my hands busy since they’re trembling. He takes another step toward me. He’s close now, too close. I pick up the pen, poised to write his time tomorrow.
Instead, he reaches for my hand, gripping it gently, but firmly. “I’d like you to do it, sweetheart. You up for a challenge?” Our eyes lock then, a moment passes and my skin heats. My thighs squeeze together, needy and achy for this well-known man whore. I’ve heard stories about Slade Maddox. And none of them good. Even Ava’s warned me against him. Although, Jag knew his best friend and I would be alone in the shop tonight and it makes me wonder if I’ve been set up.
“What is it you want?”
“Oh, darling, that’s a loaded question if I’ve ever heard one.” He offers me a sinful smirk and I know I’ve lost. My panties are soaked from the grin on his handsome face and I realize how easy it must be for him to get women into bed. He leans in then, his mouth at my cheek, his hot breath fanning over my skin, causing goose bumps to erupt all over my body. “How about you put the pen down, let me take my shirt off and show you exactly what I want?”
“I-I...” Clearing my throat, I try again. “You can do that.” With another cocky laugh, he steps back, releasing me from his hold. His hands move to the hem of his T-shirt, and he pulls it up and over his head.
I’ve seen men shirtless. I’ve even seen sexy men shirtless. Naked. But nothing prepares me for what Slade is hiding. His body is toned, and I mean perfectly so. Broad shoulders taper down into a torso that looks like it’s been chiseled from marble. Colorful marble. His hips are taut, with a V shape that sneaks behind the belt of his jeans toward a prominent bulge and I’m almost certain he’s not even hard yet. Oh, god.
Tightly packed man.
“Are you finished gawking now?” he quips playfully, his eyebrows waggling knowingly, and I admonish myself for ogling the biggest man whore in the city.
“I wasn’t gawking, merely...looking...at your ink.” My response is heavy, needy, and I have to scold myself for acting like a wanton slut because, God knows, all I want to do is feel those strong arms around me, and that delicious six-pack on my tongue.
“I’m sure. So...” He steps forward, pointing at the compass that’s done in black ink on his pec, the map behind it trailing down to his abs. “This is what I need touching up. You’re the artist.” He looks up then, his gaze pinned on me in searing challenge. “I trust you.”
I swallow hard. Too hard. Nodding, I gesture for him to make his way to the back.
“I’ll just lock up. Once we’re done I need to go,” I tell him, hoping to steel the yearning in my voice. Making my way to the door, I turn the lock, and quickly pull out my phone and tap out a message to Jessi, the babysitter, to let her know I’ll be home later than I thought.
She’s been watching Roxie for almost a year and I trust her. A student at the local college, she’s a sweetheart with my baby girl. When I had to work a full day today, she collected Roxie from school and spent the afternoon with her. She’s been a godsend.
Making my way to the back, I find Slade lying on the black leather bed, his top half naked to my hungry gaze. I haven’t been with someone in so long, I feel like a damn virgin. “I’m...” I start, unsure of what to say. The white rubber gloves I snap on are the only sound in the room. I feel him staring at me as I set out the ink into small plastic pots. When I turn to him again, he’s watching me intently. A smirk curls those full sinful lips and I find myself licking my own.
“You’re quite flustered. I know I have an effect on women, so don’t feel bad about it.” His comment heats my blood, and not in the way his toned stomach does.
“Do you have to work at being an asshole? Or does that come naturally?”