Surrender of a Tattooist: Obsessive Dark Romance Alpha Bad Boy (Tattooist Series Book 2) (8 page)

She dropped the shirt. “Stop it.” She giggled despite herself.

“Undies, eh? If you’d said panties, I’d have probably had to set you on all fours and fuck you again.”

She warmed at the thought and pressed her lips tight together. “Get my panties and I’ll let you.” She winked at him.

He threw his hands in the air. “You win. I’ll be good.”

Giggling, she let him take her hand and they made their way back over the wall. The backyard was nearly empty; thankfully most people had moved into the house, and they snuck around the side of the house and ran to the truck.

Pixie stood while Cliff unlocked the door. “Can you hand me my bathing suit bottoms?” He did and she quickly shimmied into them, and then said, “Yup, still wet. That’s going to chafe.”

He grinned wickedly. “I’ll kiss it better.”

“You want your shirt back?”

“No, that’s okay. Yours is a little, uh, dirty.” He shook the top in her hand and shot her a guilty look. “You’ll need it to get you through the halls when we get you home.” He held the door open for her and kissed her, slipping his tongue inside her mouth as she moved to sit in the truck. “Damn, you’re delicious!” He hurried around to the driver’s side and pulled out of Mitch’s place.

They wound their way out of the hills and to her place. He parked the truck outside her building and let it idle.

Pixie sat a moment, not quite sure what to do. “Do you want to come up?” she asked finally.

“I’d love to, but I have to open tomorrow. I really need a shower and a change of clothes.”

Damn! She really wanted him to stay. The idea of waking up beside him sounded amazing. “I feel bad. I should have remembered how far out you live.”

“You’re well worth the trip.” He caught her face in his hands and gave her a long kiss. “I’ll walk you up, though.”

He did, and after he was gone she headed into the shower and stood under the steam for a long time. She lathered slowly, enjoying the way that the salt dripped off her skin and left it feeling sleek and fresh.

She climbed into bed, yawning widely. It had been a long time since she had had such a great day. She lay there, replaying every moment in her head to keep it close just a little while longer.

Her inner voice was yelling at her again. It was telling her it was time to cut this thing between her and Cliff short.

If she didn’t get out now she was going to get hurt.

She gripped the pillows as she rolled over on her belly in an effort to quell that voice, but she couldn’t. She knew it was true. Cliff wasn’t just a guy she liked; he was the guy she had always wanted. He was a man both strong and tender, and he was confident and cool too.

He was her dream man, and losing him would be a serious blow to her confidence and heart.

But who said she would lose him?

Just that little voice inside her head, which was sure that she would. She had yet to have a really good relationship. Every one she had had to date had ended either badly or blandly.

The bland breakups were no better than the rough ones. They consisted mostly of a lessening of whatever passion she had felt for the man she was with. Then the texts and phone calls petered out. Then eventually she moved on and just forgot about that guy, and she was sure they had forgotten about her too.

Those mutual losses of interest were not hard to take or even understand, but that didn’t mean they didn’t shake her.

She often wondered if she was unable to really make something work, if there was something inherently wrong with her. If maybe she just wasn’t cut out for a long-term relationship no matter how much she craved one.

She rolled back over and stared at the ceiling, trying to banish those thoughts by remembering the touch of his hands and the feel of his body on top of hers, the feel of him inside her.

But those memories began to fade below the tide of her fears and doubts.

Cliff sang along with the radio as he drove the long miles to his house. He was incredibly tired, and happier than he’d been in years. Pixie was amazing, and it wasn’t just because she was willing to have sex on a canyon edge either. Though that was pretty fucking awesome.

She was warm and funny. She cared about things most didn’t. She was sincere and almost painfully honest. Her admission that she didn’t want kids was startling, but he admired her for having the guts to say it.

He often said it, but he knew he had the massive privilege of being a man saying that.

Women were often treated like they were mentally ill or somehow lacking if they said they didn’t want children. And she hadn’t even said she never wanted them; she had said she didn’t want them right now.

He knew way too many women who had had children to keep their relationship together, and daytime television was filled with women struggling to get the irresponsible men they had had children with to be a father to those kids.

He could live without kids at this stage in his life, and he knew it. He also knew his saying it would be likely met with applause and it didn’t take much courage for him to say. She’d said it knowing that it might cause a small rift in their budding relationship.

She was true to herself and he admired that.

She was the first woman in years to make him feel the way he did right then: alive and filled with happiness at being alive.

His mood quickly soured at that thought. Once upon a time Cara had made him feel that way. But not with the same intensity that Pixie gave him.

Cara.

Damn, would he ever get past that and her?

She’d always been beautiful, and he had been a shy kid until he was in his late teens. Cara was bold and daring. She had talked him into stealing their fathers’ bikes one night and going out for a long ride. They’d been fourteen, and she’d crashed her dad’s chromed-out Harley. She’d picked it up off the street, tossed her hair over one shoulder, and announced she was going to ride it home even if it killed her, which he’d been very afraid it just might.

Cara had no boundaries. She had no problem breezing past other people’s either. She was tender and warm, and cold and cruel by turns. She was kind almost to a fault, but she was reserved too. She was so many things and he had to wonder if he had ever really known her at all. She shifted like the weather, and she was twice as unpredictable.

That had changed a lot when they got older. By the time she was twenty she had settled into that deep well of reserve that she used a shield. He had figured out by then that that was exactly what it was, a shield between her and the rest of the world.

Cara was a daredevil. She’d been racing on the dirt track at fifteen, while he had still been struggling to learn how to drive. She tried hang-gliding, sky diving, and everything else she could. She always found ways to cheat death, even if it was by doing something as supposedly safe as leaping from an airplane.

That was part of why he loved her, and why he had let her talk him into doing all those things with her. While she did those things, that huge wall she kept up between herself and everyone, even him, had dropped away. In those moments he had been able to see the real Cara, the woman he had loved, and seeing her was what kept him so madly in love with her despite the slamming down of her walls as soon as they walked away from whatever crazy stunt that they had pulled that time.

He had thrown away all the mementos of their time together long ago, but he couldn’t throw away the memories in his head. He hadn’t thought about Cara in a long time, but tonight she came creeping into his thoughts and with her came that same old question.

What had he done that was so wrong that she had felt she had to leave him without a single word?

And would he do it again, to Pixie?

He knew he should just call a halt to the whole thing before he did something stupid and hurt them both, but he couldn’t stop. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anyone, Cara included.

His headlights cut across the dark streets as he finally turned into his neighborhood. He guided the truck into the driveway and got out to stow away the surfboards in the garage before locking the truck up and heading inside.

He went to the refrigerator and took out a cold beer. He held it to his head and then drank a few long swallows. The bitter, yeasty taste washed away the remnants of Pixie’s juices from his mouth, and he sighed as he set it aside and picked up the mail from the counter where he had laid it earlier that morning.

He sorted through bills and junk mail then headed for the shower. Tomorrow was going to be a long day and he needed to get some sleep.

As he got into the shower and turned the taps to let the hot water flow over his body, he found himself recalling the way that Pixie had looked lying there in the moonlight.

His cock throbbed and he stared down at it, a rueful grin on his face. “Sorry, good buddy. I don’t think that’s going to work out tonight. That was one hell of a drive.”

His cock stiffened again. Cliff groaned. Of course this would happen to him now. He grabbed his length and began stroking it with swift, expert swipes. He finished quickly, images of Pixie coxing him to climax. He then washed and ended his shower, and then walked through the house, naked, on his way to the bedroom.

The house was old and it only had one bathroom, which was inconveniently placed in the hallway. If he was ever going to have Pixie with him, he was going to have to get a place with more than one bathroom.

He blinked. Where in the hell had that come from?

He climbed into bed and crossed his arms behind his head, watching the shadows shifting in patterns across the far wall. He had never been lonely, not even after Cara had left, but right then the house felt too empty and silent.

He shifted in the bed and was terribly aware of the empty space beside him. If she had come home with him he could have curled up next to her all night and slept with her tucked into the hollows of his body.

However, she had to work in the morning and so did he. The commute was murder. She lived close to the shop, which meant for her to get to work from his house she would have to leave an hour earlier and the same went for him staying over at her house.

“I really need to move,” he muttered and punched the pillows, but that didn’t help either.

He wanted her there and he wanted to go to her place right then and knock on the door and ask her if he could stay the night.

Instead he closed his eyes and regulated his breathing until he finally landed in a thin and restless sleep.

The next weeks passed quickly. Pixie and Cliff made time for each other, and as they got to know each other Pixie began to see below his sarcastic and hard exterior. He was a sweet guy, and he showed that side to her quite often.

He was also obsessed with being the best tattoo artist he could be, and she found herself sitting nearby watching him tat someone’s skin quite often. She loved watching him work. That he loved it was obvious, and that he cared about what he put on people’s skin was equally obvious.

They found more and more things in common every day. They both loved sports, from a distance. They were spectators, not players. So they went to games and ate pretzels and drank beer. They went dancing at clubs, and Cliff was always attentive even when women he had tattooed or women who wanted him to tattoo him approached them. Pixie had to learn to smile and keep her cool, and eventually her silly jealousy cooled and then vanished. It was his job, and he approached touching the women who came into the shop in an almost clinical way that soothed her and made her feel far more confident.

One thing that wasn’t helping with her confidence was her lack of gainful employment. All the part-time jobs and the flurry of money-making always left her worn down and concerned. She knew she had to do something about it and soon, she just didn’t know what.

She got the answer one day when she was doing a woman’s nails. The woman, a regular client, was talking away and Pixie wasn’t paying much attention when until the client said, “I hate to leave. It’s such a good job. But I need to move out of L.A. because my husband’s being transferred to Atlanta. I’m just worried that they won’t find anyone in time and I’ll have to stay here for a few months after he goes out, or leave the school in a major lurch.”

Pixie stopped buffing the woman’s fingers. “I’m sorry, I missed part of that. What school are we talking about?”

“It’s community college.” The woman gave the name. “I teach English there, as part of the continuing education program. I wish I knew someone who spoke fluent Spanish and had the proper degrees and needed a job. I mean, I know people who have the degrees but don’t speak Spanish and I know people with the degrees and the Spanish but they already have good jobs.”

“I’d be perfect.” Pixie had no idea where the courage to say that came from.

“Pardon, dear?”

“I have the degrees and I speak Spanish.” She switched to Spanish just to prove the point as she went on, “I could use a good job. Teaching is what I wanted to do, but most people take one look at me and say no thanks.”

Her client laughed. “I can see that. But you know, there’re a few people who work there who have hair like yours. Maybe not that color purple, but dyed wild colors. Maybe if you just covered the tattoos a little and…” her face grew thoughtful. “Would you do a good job if I put in a word for you?”

Pixie stared the woman in the eye and nodded, confident in a way she’d never been before. “Yes, absolutely.”

“And you have the proper accreditation? Undergrad? Teaching certification? Everything?”

“I do.” She did. This was the job that was perfect for her. She just knew it. “I’d love it if you put in a good word for me, but you don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable with that. If you could just tell me how to apply, that would be great.” Her heart was beating high and fast. Was it possible? She had never considered working in one of the continuing education programs before. Those positions were mostly always filled, and she had never imagined a slot would open up. But if there was one open she might actually have a chance.

The discontent with all of her jobs and the rut she had fallen into with employment had been weighing on her a lot lately. She had known before she met Cliff that she wanted to make a change, and now that she was with Cliff she definitely wanted to make a change. They had been dating for almost four months now and things had heated up quite a bit.

She wanted to be someone better than a woman with a lot of odd jobs and a room in someone else’s house. She wanted to be fully independent and working. She wanted to grow up a little more. She sensed that she had to in order to have a full relationship with Cliff, who was not only a rebel but incredibly practical.

Her client smiled. “I’ll get you the info, and Pixie?” She waiting till Pixie looked up. “I’ll definitely put in a word for you. I know there are going to be some applicants, but the ones I have seen so far are lacking in one way or another. You have to remember that the people who come in there aren’t your typical college students; they have their own issues and stuff.”

Pixie nodded. “I understand. More than you know.”

The older woman nodded. “I’m sure you do.” She wiggled her fingers. “Well as soon as my nails are polished and dry I’ll get you the information.”

“Thanks!” She meant it. Hope filled her. Maybe this was the break she had been waiting for!

* *

She skipped into Hawk’s shop later that evening and found Cliff in his room with Mitch Rider.

Mitch was getting song lyrics tattooed on one strong muscled arm. He looked up with a smile. “Hello, Pixie.”

“Hey, Mitch. How’s it going?”

Mitch nodded toward the ink spilling across the inside of his arm. “Good. I thought of a song I want to write so I’m having Cliff put it down for me.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Shouldn’t you finish it first?”

Mitch waved his free hand. “I guess that would be the smart thing to do. But I might set it aside if I don’t have a physical reminder of how important it is to me.”

“Damn! I sure hope you don’t ever get attached to the idea that taking out the trash is important,” Pixie said before she could stop herself.

Mitch laughed good-naturedly. “Yeah. No. We’re safe there. I hire someone to do that.”

She sat and watched as Cliff carefully guided the gun and needle across Mitch’s arm. The words were written out already, in a lovely script reminiscent of calligraphy.

It never failed to amaze her how lovely tattoos could be. She had seen some that had been done badly and under bad conditions, like her first one, and she knew good work when she saw it.

The smell of the ink and Mitch’s light sweat filled the room. Cliff had the radio on a country station for Mitch, and the singer occasionally sang a snatch of song under his breath. When one of his own songs came on, he looked utterly surprised then pleased.

He was a good guy, and Pixie found herself wondering if he still missed his ex-wife. He hadn’t dated, and she doubted he really could. Paparazzi followed him like crazy, and while he ducked them constantly she had to wonder if it was possible to have a life under the glare of all those cameras.

When Mitch was finished and left, Pixie helped Cliff clean the room. She loved that small task and she watched him as he worked. His powerful body flexed and moved, and with every step he took and every move he made he managed to turn her on again.

He asked, “How was your day?”

“Oh it was alright.” She jumped up on the table and swung her legs in excitement. “Actually, it was better than okay.” She spilled the possible job details and waited for Cliff’s reaction.

Cliff said, “Wow! That sounds great. Good for you”

“It
is
great.” She paused for a moment, her hand on a tray of soaking alcohol pads. “If I can get it.”

“You can get it.” He hugged her as she slipped off the table. “You can get anything you want, baby. You’re amazing and you’re going to nail it, but first you have to put in the application. You have your résumé handy?”

She nodded. “I know. As soon as I get home I’m going to. What’re you doing tonight?”

He made a face. “Two guys came down with the flu. I’m here until close, I’m afraid. That’s after midnight. To be fair, Hawk’s staying too.”

She went to the door and closed it then locked it. He lifted an eyebrow and she grinned wickedly. “Well, since I won’t get to see you later...” Her hand found the buttons on his jeans.

Cliff spoke huskily, “You sure know how to surprise a guy,” as she dropped to her knees and took his penis into her hand. It filled her palm, hot and thick. Her fingers ran around the vein-wrapped flesh and her tongue flicked out, licking the silken flesh of the taut head. His hips moved forward and she smiled. Her fingers tightened at the base of his shaft, forming a fist. Her mouth opened and she took him into her mouth, sucking hard while her tongue ran in slow circles around the head and then the shaft as she lowered her head.

“Damn,” Cliff panted. “Oh, holy shit.”

Her hand dipped into his jeans, found his balls, and her fingers cradled them, feeling them move upward and tighten with every bob of her head and swipe of her tongue.

His scent came to her nose and she felt her own desire eddying higher and higher. She wanted him so badly but she knew time was short. There were customers in the front and it wouldn’t be long before the receptionist knocked to ask if he was ready for the next client.

His hot hard flesh slid down her throat and bumped against the top of her mouth. She relished the taste of him, the feel of him. His hands captured her hair and he murmured soft, sexy words as he flexed and thrust his hips again and again.

He muffled back a groan when reached his orgasm, pulling out of her mouth with a wet pop and grabbing a handful of tissue just before he came.

She stood, her smile growing wider as he braced himself against the wall for a few moments as he struggled to regain his breath.

He blinked, his chest rising and falling as he fought to catch it. “Wow. I don’t even know what to say to that.”

She chuckled. “That was for telling me I could do it.”

“You can do whatever you want,” he croaked.

There was a loud knock on the door. Pixie sighed and said, “I think that’s my cue to go. How’s tomorrow looking?”

“I think it’s all going to depend on whether or not the flu is still hitting them. They can’t work like that, especially here.”

That was true. “I’m off tomorrow, so if nothing else I’ll pop in.” She opened the door and smiled at the receptionist before heading out the door, her smile still firmly in place.

Cliff believed she could do something so crazy, and so she was determined to try it.