Daring Ink(6)

Anyone who said getting a tattoo didn’t hurt was lying, but the only time Sawyer reacted was when Penny first smoothed her palm across his shoulders and upper back so she could get a feel for his skin and the curve of his muscle. He hadn’t flinched under her touch so much as he hardened under it, as if he had to steel himself against responding to her. But now he lay perfectly still, his breathing slow and steady almost as if—

“Are you asleep?” It wouldn’t be the first time a client had snoozed while getting a tattoo, but it still wasn’t the every day. Sometimes people got to a certain pain level and surrendered to it, lessening its hold on them until they could block it out.

Sawyer stirred. “Is it safe to sit up?” he asked, his deep voice muffled slightly by the thick cushioning around the opening at the head of the table that allowed a client to rest comfortably on their stomach and breathe.

“Yep, it’s break time.” She disposed of the needle from the tattoo gun into the biohazard box hanging on the wall and then stripped off her latex gloves and dropped them into the trashcan under the bench.

Sawyer sat up slowly, as if he was testing how bad the ache would be. He rolled his neck from side to side before stretching his arms and twisting at the waist. The moves he used to work out whatever kinks he had in his muscles turned Penny’s tongue to dust. For the past few hours she’d lost herself into the vibrating buzz of the tattoo gun as she turned his back into her canvas, but now—seeing him like this—she remembered her canvas was a man and attraction slammed against her.

Naked from the waist up, with his face wrinkled with sleep and his dark blonde hair mussed, he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed after a long and thorough fuck session. The kind that left you drained, sweaty and begging for more.

He ran his long fingers through his hair, looked up, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. He didn’t move, didn’t even blink, but the hot intensity of his focus was as potent as any touch. Penny’s fingers flew to her sensitive lips and she held her breath in anticipation. She wanted this—wanted him.

Sawyer stood, bringing him practically right up against her in the tight spot. Heat radiated from his body, caressing her and tempting her to see how hot they could burn together. Face-of-the-sun hot was her guess and judging by the size of the bulge pressing against his jeans, it would be worth getting burnt to a crisp.

“Not break time.” Still facing her, he reached up and grabbed a corner of the curtain separating them from the rest of the studio. “Work time.”

He pulled the curtain open and at the same time dropped his mouth to hers, his strong lips promising exactly what she shouldn’t be wanting but still needed. Then almost as soon as it began, it was over. Sawyer pulled back, a self-satisfied grin on his face.

“You bet we can take a break, honey,” he said, loud enough for the entire studio to hear. “You go take care of what you need. I’ll just hang out in the break room until you’re ready to finish up.”

He smacked her on the ass and strutted out of the curtained-off room toward the employee only door.

The dick.

He’d managed to mark her as his, insult her ability to do her job by saying she needed a break, and go all macho man with the slap on her butt. It took everything she had not to wing something solid at the back of his head as he sauntered off. The women in her family must be cursed. It was the only explanation for how they were always drawn to the biggest prick in the room. Mr. Anaconda Cock, indeed.

*****

Sawyer didn’t look back as he made his way to the employee’s only door, but it wasn’t because he didn’t want to.

Making the strategic decision to kiss Penny had been easy, but Sawyer hadn’t expected that ending it would be so difficult. The whole thing had started as a way to win a bet by going on a date with his sexy neighbor, but he was starting to feel more like an asshole with each minute he spent with Penny. Making that bet had been the best and worst decision.

Behind the employee’s only door there was a small break room with a circular table, a fridge, a sink, a soda machine and a microwave. Stacks of tattoo magazines littered the top of the table. A door on the opposite side of the room stood closed, but he glanced through the window next to it and spotted a desk, laptop and a few file cabinets. No doubt that was Penny’s office. Ignoring his natural instinct to go check if she’d left her portfolio in her top drawer as usual, he grabbed his wallet out of his back pocket and strolled over to the soda machine.

He was trying to decide between soda and a sports drink when the door to the lounge opened up behind him. And this was why he’d played it cool when it came to going into her office. The curious at Daring Ink couldn’t be kept at bay long and he did not want to distract them from their purpose by getting caught in the boss’s office.

“It’s out of Dr. Pepper,” the woman said.

Glancing back, he confirmed it was the platinum blonde. “Thanks. I’m a Coke guy anyway.” He slid his dollar bill in the machine and waited for the ka-thunk of the can hitting the exit flap.

After grabbing his Coke, he turned around. The blonde was already at the table. She was flipping through one of the magazines, but her attention was locked on him. Hard. Assessing. Skeptical.

He put on his most charming smile, the one that always worked. “Staci, right?”

“And you’re the boyfriend?” She made air quotes around the last word.

Bam. Penny hadn’t been kidding about her coworkers seeing right through him.

“Sorta.” He took a seat at the table across from her. “You a tattoo artist too?”

Staci snorted. “Not even close. I’m the office manager. Now, tell me about sorta.”

He popped open the can and took a long drink, letting the fizz tickle his tongue before swallowing. The move bought him time. He could keep pretending, which wasn’t going to get him far, or admit he was full of shit. Lucky him, he’d worked vice long enough to be able to lie like a pro, the key being to stick as close to the truth as possible.

“I’m working on it,” he said.

She smirked. “Good luck with that.”

Ouch. He flinched. The blonde was as harsh as her peroxide. “You think she’s too nice for me?”

Staci slapped the tattoo magazine closed and leaned forward. “I think she’d eat you up and floss her teeth with your bones.”

“So I can put you down for being in my corner?” he asked as she stood up.

“You can put me down as the one off to the side taking the bets, armed with a bat just in case you hurt her.”

The remark slid home with the pinpoint accuracy of a shank between the ribs. Making that bet with D’Andre was twisting his gut tighter and tighter each time he thought about it. “I just might surprise you.” Maybe he’d even surprise himself.

She paused at the open door. “I don’t think so.” Then she walked out.

Nearly an hour later, he’d chatted with almost every Daring Ink employee who’d filtered in to have a snack and try to get the scoop about the boss. The lone hold out? The skinny guy who’d been trying his hardest to make time with Staci when Sawyer had walked in. That said something, but exactly what, he wasn’t quite sure. All he knew is that it set off that extra tingly sense that had helped him avoid tackles on the field in a football uniform and kept him alive on the streets in a police uniform.

The employee only door opened inward and Penny strode in, all sass and swinging hips that made his tongue stick to the top of his mouth.

“You ready to finish this up, princess?” she asked, her voice louder than normal.

They must have an audience on the other side of the door. They’d discuss his doubts about the skinny kid later when they were alone. His dick twitched behind his zipper, more than happy at the prospect of some one-on-one time.

“I was born ready,” he said.

“Good, no more breaks.” She sauntered over, smirking, then snagged his half-full can of warm Coke and downed it in one long swallow.

The move brought him eye-to-glorious-tits with her as the peach smell of her shampoo wrapped around him. He was never going to be able to have his favorite pie again without thinking of this moment. It took everything he had not to grab hold of her luscious hips and yank her down to his lap for a little more fake boyfriend/girlfriend time. He’d spent months undercover pretending to be just the kind of guy he loathed, doing whatever it took to convince the frat bro drug dealers that he was legit, and hating every minute of it. However, despite how things had started between them, what he felt with Penny wasn’t a ploy. He’d never wanted someone so much in his life.

“Come on.” She crushed the can and tossed it into the nearby recycling bin. “We have at least three solid hours of work to go.”

“I think you like jabbing me with that needle,” he teased.

She winked at him. “You have no idea.”

Then she pivoted and strutted out of the door, leaving him no choice but to follow—something he found he didn’t mind. After all, the view was magnificent.





Chapter Five

Miami’s humid heat slapped Penny in the face as soon as she slid open the glass door to her condo’s balcony. The heat felt good on her sore forearms and achy hands, loosening the muscles like a massage from nature. She needed it. Sawyer’s tattoo had ended up taking a little more than five hours total with the grey and black shading and detailing. Not bad for a custom tattoo, but still enough to make her want to sink into the cushion on her balcony lounge chair and pretend it had been another day at the studio, as opposed to a secret investigation.