Bad Boys of Romance(25)

“If you ever need a ride, just ask.”

I looked up to see him smirking and instantly my face was the color of a cardinal.

“Okay, thanks.” I turned and quickly made my way to my apartment. I wouldn't allow myself to turn back. He was watching me. I could feel it. Once the door to my apartment was closed, I heard the bike's engine come back to life and roar down the street. I let out the breath I had been holding since I landed in his arms. Who was this guy who already had so much power over me?





Chapter 3

“I want a tattoo,” I announced as I walked into the living room.

“Whatever.” Hannah rolled her eyes from the couch.

“I'm serious.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I've always wanted one but he would never let me get one.”

“And what tattoo do you want exactly?” She turned her full attention to me.

“It's a quote about following your dreams. I want it on my side.” I watched to see how she would react.

“Are we going now or later?” she asked.

“Now.” I smiled.

I pulled my car into a space in front of a tattoo parlor that I had done way too much internet research on. They only had one bad review, and I wasn't getting anything pierced so the same issue shouldn't happen with me.

“I kind of want one too.” Hannah was flipping through books as I filled out the paperwork the receptionist gave me.

“You already have two.” I laughed.

“But I don't have one on my wrist.” She turned the page.

I tapped my foot nervously against the tile floor until a beautiful girl, who was covered in tattoos, walked into the waiting area and called my name.

“That's me.” I stood up, and we followed her back to her table.

“I'm Erin.” she smiled.

“Riley.” I smiled back. “And this is Hannah.”

She nodded at Hannah and turned her attention back to me. “What are you having done today?”

“It's a quote.” I pulled out the piece of paper from my purse. “I wanted it on my left side just below my breast.”

She studied the words before looking back at me. “Is this the font you want too?”

“Yeah.”

“Perfect. Let me work up a sketch and I'll be right back.”

I leaned against the table and took in a few deep breaths. I knew I was going to be nervous, but this was more than I expected. It was getting harder to breathe, and the room was starting to spin. There were several other men in the room getting work done and a woman at the front booth was getting her lip pierced. No one was screaming out in pain so that made me feel a little bit better.

“Are you going to puke?” Hannah cut into my panic attack. “Because you look like it.”

“I've been tattooing for over ten years.” Erin was standing in front of me again. “No need to be nervous with me.”

“I'm probably going to pass out, just so you know.” I tried to laugh but nothing came out.

“It'll be okay, hon. If you do, I'll just wake you up when it's over.”

She had me take off the gray t-shirt I was wearing, leaving me only in a black lace bra and low rise jeans. Once she had pressed a paper against my side and applied the tattoo outline, I looked in the mirror.

“I love it.” My nerves began to calm. “I really do.”

“Let's get started then.” She motioned toward the table and I climbed on where she had me lie partly on my right side and back with my arms above my head. “It's going to sting and burn at first. Just let me know if the pain gets to be too much.”

“Don't worry. I will.”

I sucked in a deep breath as soon as I heard the low buzzing of the needle and seriously thought about jumping off the table and running to my car when it felt like something was carving into my side.

“You're doing great.” Hannah was sitting on my other side and holding one of my hands. “She's already on the third word.”

“You're a liar,” I grunted out. “She just started. Tell a story or something.”

“Holy shit,” she whispered.

“What happened? Did something go wrong?” Erin stopped the needle and pushed me back onto the table.

“If you don't lay still, I swear I will tie you down.”

“Oh, sorry. I won't move again.”

“He's here.” Hannah was leaning close to my ear.

“Who?” I opened my eyes and followed her gaze.

Sitting a few tables down and talking to another artist was Luke. He was explaining something on a piece of paper that the artist eventually took and walked away with. I watched as he pulled his shirt over his head and leaned back against the table. His strong chest and chiseled stomach were screaming for me to run over and touch him.