Rogue Cowboy (3 page)

“Morning, Zeke,” Bella, the receptionist at Premier Ink, chirps. 

I give her a chin lift in return and make my way into the private room to set up for my first client of the day.  I enjoyed being back more than I thought I would in the beginning. 

I’d left the day after my mum’s funeral.  I was in a world of pain, thanks to her sudden passing from ovarian cancer, not to mention I was pissed off at the world and thought everyone was out to get me.  I’d packed up and left, and I didn’t return until almost two years ago when my brother phoned me up and asked me to help him out at the studio.

The minute he asked, I knew I’d agree.  I just didn’t know why.

But, the first time I saw her, I knew why. 
Sienna
.  She has a name that whispers right off your tongue and a face like an angel.

She also has the determination of the devil.  Doesn’t matter what I do to try and gain her attention, she brushes me off.  It’s  either time to step up my game, or admit defeat.

I already know which one I’ll choose though.  I’m no fucking quitter. 

A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts and I turn to see Bella’s head poking through.  “Your first client just called and needed to change her appointment until later this afternoon,” she informs me.

“Thanks,” I nod.  Kind of pisses me off when clients cancel or rearrange their appointments at the last minute, but there isn’t much that can be done.  I turn my back to Bella, effectively dismissing her, and then I go about continuing on with my prep.

Five minutes later, there’s a tap on the door again.

“You’ve got a walk-in,” Bella tells me.

“Give me a minute and I’ll be out. Luke in yet?”

“Just got here.  Would you like me to get a coffee? I’m headed there now.”

“Nah, but I’d love a Coke.”

“The way you drink soft drink before lunchtime is disgusting, Zeke!” she scoffs.

“Caffeine is caffeine.” I shrug.

I follow her out and see a nervous looking teenager browsing the designs plastered on the wall.

“What’s up, man?” I greet him, holding my hand out for him to shake.

“Hey, mate.  Just after a tatt.”  He tries to play off as being cool, but I can see he’s sweating bullets.

“Oh, yeah?  What are you after?”

“A longhorn bull’s head.  Shoulder to shoulder.”

“Have you got the design with you, or you need me to draw one up?”

He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out a piece of paper.  “Printed this off the net.”  He hands it to me and I nod.  It’s a simple design, with only some minor shading around the bull’s head.

“Shouldn’t be a problem, man.  You eighteen?”

“Last month,” he confirms.

I take him into the back room and two hours later, he’s walking back out again with some brand new ink.

“Bella will fix you up, mate.  Come see us again sometime.”

“Will do, man. Thanks again. I’m really happy with it,” he replies with a smile.

I shake his hand again and then leave Bella to handle the rest of the transaction.

As I pass her by, she hands me a bottle of Coke, a disgusted look on her face.

“Thanks, Bells.” I grin, and then pop the cap, take a swig and make an exaggerated
ahhh
noise.

“So gross,” I hear her mutter as I walk away.

I’ve got another appointment in half an hour, so I quickly clean and prep the room for my next client and then I sit down and pull out my notepad and pen and do some more work on a piece I’ve been designing for the last two years.

It’s a full sleeve that will probably never come to life on someone’s skin.  And, that’s because the girl I’m designing it for doesn’t have an inch of ink on her – that I know of – nor does she know I’m creating this piece for her.

But, just because she doesn’t know about it, or it may never grace her milky skin, doesn’t mean I can’t imagine it.  From the top, near her shoulder, it travels down to her wrist, the perfect mix of black, shade and colour.  No skulls or dragons or snakes, for my beautiful Sienna.  No roses or rainbows, either.  Instead, it’s the most feminine tribal print I’ve ever seen.  Dainty swirls dominate the artwork, with small dots surrounding them to add another dimension to the piece.  On her inner forearm, the large, pink, fully bloomed lily takes centre stage; giving the effect the entire sleeve is made up of the entwining stems of the lily.  But, that’s not the case at all.  It’s not the feature of the tattoo, as some may perceive it.  It’s just one small part of the design that ties the rest of it together.

For two years, I’ve spent my free time creating this picture, bringing it to life, making it perfect.  I’ve scratched it and restarted it more times than I can count, but the closer I get to finishing it, the more I wish it was actually going to come to life on her skin. 

This tattoo wouldn’t own her.  She would own it.  It would add to her beauty, not take away from it, not diminish it, not overtake it.  It would enhance it.

But, considering she can barely look me in the eye, let alone have more than a five word conversation with me, I can’t see her ever getting close enough to me to let me spend hours upon hours, caressing her body as I ink her skin.

Just the thought of running my hands over her silky smooth body has my cock jerking in my jeans.  I drop my pen on the desk and slide the paper back into the protective sleeve as I try to fight off my hard-on before my client arrives.

Gathering up the black plastic bag, I tie it off and heave it from the bin. 

“Ack!” God, I hate this part of my job. I wrinkle my nose, and try not to breathe as I carry to trash outside to the skip.

Lucy – the cleaner – called this morning at seven a.m. to let me know she wouldn’t be able to make it to work.  Apparently she’s sick, but it’s the third time it’s happened this week. She’s really starting to piss me off.  Had it been three days in a row, I would have believed her, but she was fine at work yesterday, and she was fine two days before when she showed.

Since she calls off at the last minute, I’ve been doing her job, plus my own.  I’ve barely breathed air outside the pub since the beginning of the week.  Not that I mind since I don’t have a whole lot to do besides work, anyways.  But, it would be nice to have the choice, at least.

So, along with cleaning the pub and running behind the bar, as well as looking for a couple of new bar tenders, I also have to fire Lucy and find a replacement.  To make matters worse, Dory came down with a bad case of the flu last week and she just can’t seem to shake it, so she’s been laid up in bed trying to recover, meaning it’s just me.

Oh, and if I haven’t had enough on my plate this past week, Zeke has also been a pain in my arse.  Or, more accurately, a throb in my clit.

Everyday he’s stopped in at the pub after work.  This would be fine if was actually there to drink and socialise.  But instead, he nurses a beer or two over three or four hours at the bar and engages me in conversation every time there’s a lull in service. 

The worst part is, I actually
like
talking with him.  I actually
like
that he’s paying me so much attention.

But, I hate that I like it.

Throwing the bag into the skip, I grit my teeth as I try to strengthen my resolve.  I won’t let him in.  I
can’t
let him in.

I nod my head, feeling better, more resolute,
stronger
.  Turning around, I take two steps back towards the pub and then scream and jump when Zeke startles me.

“Jesus, Zeke!” I clutch my heart, willing it to calm down.

“What are you doing?” he asks, even though I’m almost certain he knows the answer.

“Do you want me to answer that, or…” I trail off. 

He cocks his brow at my sass, clearly not impressed.

I shove a hand on my hip, a silent challenge.  I don’t know what it is about him, but he just makes me so…
gah!
  He infuriates me.  With his good looks and broody personality.  Not to mention the vibe that surrounds him that clearly screams
badass Alpha male alert!!

“Are you going to answer my question, Sienna?” he asks, his tone slightly menacing.

Before the shiver of fear can climb my spine, I swallow it down and narrow my eyes at him.

“I’m baking a fucking cake.  What does it look like?” I throw out sarcastically.

He takes two long, quick strides toward me and I immediately back up, hitting the wall behind me.  He leans in close and the scent of his cologne invades my senses.  My breath hitches and my heart thuds in my chest.

I shrink back and peer up at him.  His eyes hold me captive as his body cages me in.  Not one part of him is touching me, but I’m held prisoner by him.

I want him to touch me.

No, you don’t!

Touch me.

My lips part and he leans closer.  Closer, still.  But,
still
not touching me.

“Sienna,” he rumbles.

When he waits for me to reply, I whisper, “Yes?”

“Just so you know, I’m saving up all that sass you’ve been throwing me.” 

“Saving it up?” I ask, still whispering.

“Yeah, baby.  And, I can’t wait to cash it all in.” He grins slightly, victoriously, a little
menacingly.

“C-cash it in?” I stutter.
Sass! Where the fuck are you when I need you most?

“You’re going to love every second of it,” he promises.  His hand comes up between us and he rests his thumb on my bottom lip.  Without me even telling it to, my tongue sneaks out to brush over his pad and he growls, low, deep and husky.  “I can’t wait,” he vows.

He drags his thumb down my chin and then it disappears as he takes a step back.  I straighten myself, making myself taller, as I shake off the trance he had me under.

“Right,” I croak. Clearing my throat, I start again.  “Right, well, I have work to do,” I say, acting as efficient and important as I can muster.  I dust my hand off on my jean shorts and then walk away as quickly as I can without running.

Okay, so I kind of run.

I watch Sienna’s arse as she practically runs away from me and I can’t help but smirk.  The woman wants me, that much is true.  The problem is, she keeps fighting it. 

What she needs to understand is, her denying herself of me, and in turn, denying
me
of
her
, only makes my dick harder.

My eyes drift up when she pauses just before she rounds the corner to disappear out of sight.  Her black hair is knotted in a messy bun on top of her head, and the plain white tank she’s wearing does nothing to dull her beauty.  Add to that the snug denim shorts she’s wearing, and she’s the definition of fucking gorgeous.

I cross my arms over my chest, and see her gaze fall to the bulge of my biceps.  Even from here I can see the light pink tinge in her cheeks.

Yeah, the woman wants me.

She drops her head to look down at the fucking ridiculous pair of thongs she’s wearing – plain black with a giant sparkly butterfly on each of them.  She must have a collection of the world’s most outrageous flip-flops, because I’ve seen her wear some fucking wacky ones.  Then, she disappears from my line of sight.

Tucking my hands into the front pockets of my jeans, I turn and continue on my way to the shop.

On a whim, I decide to swing by Luke and Laura’s place to see my niece, Ella.  She’s the cutest kid I’ve ever seen.  Truth be told, I haven’t seen that many babies that little, so it surprised me how small she actually was when she was born. 

In all the years I spent living on the missions with my Aboriginal mates, I only ever saw the babies once they were a couple months old.  Before that, the women kept them close to the shacks, while most of the men stayed out at camp.

Opening the gate, I climb the stairs and tap on the front door before letting myself in.

“Yo, Luke!”

“Kitchen,” comes his reply.

I make my way down the hall, peeking into Ella’s room as I pass.  She’s not in there, so I keep going.

“Are you going to be Daddy’s good girl today?  You’re not going to cry, are you?  You’re a tough little princess.” 

I round the corner and pause, trying to hide my laugh as I listen to my brother baby-talking in a high-pitched voice to his daughter.

Ella gurgles back, and Luke takes it as an indication to continue.

“Yeah, Daddy knows you don’t want your needles, but you’ve got to have them, baby,” he coos.

“Look at you, embracing your inner vagina,” I muse, my tone teasing.

“Eat shit,” Luke replies, glancing over to me.

I clutch my heart in mock distress.  “That’s no way for a lady to speak,” I gasp.

He turns his attention back to Ella and resumes his baby talk. “Don’t worry about your Uncle Zeke.  He’s a weirdo.”

I walk over and slide the baby from his arms to cradle her in my own.  Bringing her face up level with mine, I tell her, “Uncle Z is a badass mutha and you’re just like him.  So, don’t listen to your pussy-whipped Daddy.”

“Zeke, watch your language,” Laura says playfully as she walks past.  She stops to shove some stuff in a bag and then walks over to kiss Ella’s cheek before sliding her arms around my brother’s waist.  He bends down to kiss the top of her head and I raise my brows and roll my eyes at Ella.

“Bet you have to watch that shit all the time, huh?  Well, don’t worry, Uncle Z will come save you from time to time so you don’t have to watch them kissing and all that gross stuff,” I whisper.

“What are you saying to my daughter?” Luke asks suspiciously.

“Nothing.  We were just making a deal.  Weren’t we, Ella?”

She coos, and I take that as a yes.  That’s my girl! Not even two months old and she’s got her Uncle Z’s back.

“Don’t go corrupting my girl,” he warns.  I look down at Ella and slyly poke my tongue out at her father.  She gives me a smile, and I know she gets me.

Turning his attention to Laura, he asks, “You almost ready to go, babe?”

“Yep, I’ve got everything packed.  Edie said we should give her a dose of baby Panadol now so it’s kicked in by the time she gets her shots.”

“I’m off then,” I say, moving to hand the baby back.  “Good luck today, and try not to cry too much, bro,” I tease.

“Fuck off,” he mouths, earning him a slap on the shoulder from Laura.

I bend down and kiss her cheek, smiling to myself at Luke’s resulting growl.  For two brothers who look a fair bit alike, we’re certainly different in personality. 

He’s nurturing, possessive and protective.

I’m not.

He shows his love openly, and isn’t afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve.

He also isn’t afraid to fight for what he wants.  He fought for Laura with everything he had, and then took on her heartache as his own to relieve her of the load she was carrying.  Now, she appears lighter than ever, the broad shoulders of my brother now sharing the weight she was carrying alone.  I couldn’t be more proud of the two of them.

A loss like Laura experienced shouldn’t be something any parent has to endure, but life sucks like that, and sometimes bad shit happens.  It happened to her, and even though stuff like this could have easily killed her, she’s come through it stronger than ever.

She’s not that different to Sienna, when it boils down.  Something happened to her – though I’m not sure what, just yet – that led her to Pine Creek.  She’s completely different now, compared to what she was back then. Back then, she was reserved, timid in a sense.  Now, she’s got enough sass about her to keep my dick hard for all eternity.

On second thoughts, maybe I’m not that different to my brother, after all.

I guess only time will tell if it all works out the way I want it to.  Fuck, who I am kidding? Of course it’s going to work out the way I want it to…there’s no other option!

“Morning, Zeke,” Bella chirps as I walk in.  She’s far too cheery for this time of morning if you ask me.

I lift my chin in reply and walk over to stand next to her so I can flip through the appointment book to see what’s on today.

“Have you spoken to Luke this morning?”

I nod.

“Gosh, Zeke, you really should shut up.  You talk too much for this early in the morning,” she says dryly.

I turn my head and cock my brow at her.

She rolls her eyes and gives a slight shake of her head.  “He has one of his regulars wanting an appointment for after lunch. Do you think he’ll be back?”

“Yep.”

“Oh,” she gasps.  “It’s a miracle, ladies and gentleman.  The broody, tatted-up cowboy
actually
speaks.  Well, strike me pink and smother me in orgasms.”

“You’re a fucking loon,” I say, fighting a grin.

“You know, I actually think I like you better when you’re silent.” She shrugs.

“Get to work, Bella,” I retort, flicking her the bird over my shoulder as I head towards my room to prep for my first client.

After I’ve got everything ready, I take out my phone and fire off a text to Sienna.

Dinner tonight.  I’ll pick you up at 6.

After hitting send, I only have to wait about two minutes before she shoots me down.

Sorry, I have plans.

I scratch my eyebrow with my thumb as I think.  I need her to take a chance, I just have to find a way to make her see I’m worth the risk. That
we’re
worth the risk.

Tomorrow then.  Be ready at 6
.
I reply.

My phone vibrates almost instantly.

No. I have plans then, too.

Then cancel them.  Tomorrow night. 6.

I smile smugly to myself, wishing I could see the steam coming out of her ears as she fumes.

When she doesn’t reply, I’m sure I’ve won. 
Fucking finally!
   Unfortunately, at that moment, my client walks in to the room, so I can’t sit down and plan the perfect date to have her falling over her feet to fuck me.