Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
EPILOGUE
Preview of Rory
Also by Nicole James
LIAM
A Brothers Ink Story
~~~
Nicole James
LIAM
BROTHERS INK
BOOK 3
By
Nicole James
Published by Nicole James
Copyright 2019
All Rights Reserved
Cover Art by Viola Estrella
and
Mayhem Cover Creations
Photography by Ian Pettigrew
Models: Travis and Memphis Cadeau
Edited by CookieLynn Publishing Services
CHAPTER ONE
Liam stood at the Brothers Ink booth at the tattoo expo in LA. He couldn’t take his eyes off the gorgeous tattoo model doing a photo shoot for the crowd. She was on a raised dais on a mock bed with a white fur throw under her. It was the perfect backdrop for the colorful ink that covered her sexy body. As the videographer filmed her, the feed was thrown up on a giant screen, like they do behind bands at concerts. She rolled around on the fur, and the entire event space had a perfect view. Her textbook pin-up vibe called out to every man in the room.
She was on her back; her bare legs extended in the air, crossed at the ankles, sexy platform shoes with sexier still straps wrapped around her smooth skin.
Her lips were painted bright red, her hair tied up in a fifties style bandana, ah la Rosie the Riveter, and she wore a fifties style two-piece bathing suit.
The cameraman filmed from over her head, and she tilted her head back to look at him, her teeth coming out to nibble at her bottom lip. She rolled to her stomach arching her ass into the air with her arms stretched like a cat.
Jesus Christ, the woman was sex on a stick. Every man in the place probably had a hard-on for her.
She was selling a pin-up calendar at the event, and they were going fast, even at thirty bucks a pop. Liam could see why. He couldn’t tear his eyes from her. What he wouldn’t give to run his hands over her skin and trace every tattoo she had with his tongue. Hell, he’d even settle for putting some ink of his own on her gorgeous body.
“She’s hot, isn’t she?”
Liam glanced over at his brother, Rory. “Hot as hell.” His eyes turned back to the screen. “I’d love to lay ink on her, wouldn’t you?”
“Hell, yeah. Why don’t you go ask her? It’d be an icebreaker, anyway, even if she weren’t interested in more ink.”
Liam drained the last of the bottle of water in his hand and tossed it in the trash. “I’m going to take a walk around the hall… check out our competition. You got the booth covered?”
“Yeah, man, go on. But remember I’ve got to catch a flight for that gig tonight in Seattle, so we need to tear down the booth as soon as the expo closes.”
“I’ll be back by then.”
Liam strolled around the exhibit hall, greeting old friends in the business he’d known for years and shooting the shit. He also took the time to say hello to many newcomers and check out their artistry. He believed in being supportive and welcoming with a mentoring spirit, as long as the artists and shops followed good industry practices. Over the years, he’d seen many players come and go in this business, some whose flame of fame would flare up brightly only to burn out within a few years because they didn’t maintain those industry standards. It was truly a tough business to succeed in, especially long-term.
He was thankful every day for the success Brothers Ink had attained, and he knew most of the credit went to his older brother, Jameson. He’d started the business as a way to support his three younger brothers after their parents were killed in a car accident. Liam would be forever grateful that Jameson had stepped up to the task, rather than let them all be split apart into different foster homes.
Not only had Jameson taken care of them, he’d given them all a profession, and it was one Liam loved. He was in his element here at the expo. He loved meeting the fans and rubbing elbows with his contemporaries. To some extent, it was like a reunion for him.
“Hey, Liam, how are you man?” An artist with a long braid stepped around to take his hand and pull him in for a backslapping hug.
“Carter,” Liam returned the embrace. “How’re things in Vegas?”
“Great. When are you going to make the trip? I’ll show you the town.”
“The Vegas Strip isn’t really my thing. I’m more of the outdoors kind.”
“You gonna be at the Miami show in the fall?”
“I don’t know. Jameson makes all the arrangements; I just show up.”
Carter laughed. “I hear ya, man.”
“I’ve got to get back to the booth. We need to start tearing down soon. Rory’s got a flight he needs to catch.”
“Where’s he off to?”
“Seattle. His band, Convicted Chrome, is playing tonight.”
“How’s that going for him?”
“They’re good. Have you seen ‘em play yet?”
“Haven’t had a chance. They got anything on the radio yet?”
“Nah, they’re still waiting for their big break. Take it easy, man!”
“You, too.” After making his way back around, he returned to the booth. Rory was taking a photo with a couple of giggling girls, his long dark hair standing out between the two blondes pressed to his sides.
Liam began breaking down the booth while Rory took pictures and signed autographs. Some even knew him from Convicted Chrome. Liam gave him the time and took down the shop’s standing banner and stowed it in its bag.
“Did you go talk to her?”
Liam looked up to see Rory now standing at the table alone. “Who?”
Rory huffed out a laugh. “The tattoo model, that’s who. Moron.”
“Nah.”
“Afraid you’d get shot down?”
“Fuck off.”
A female artist from another booth approached the table. “Rory, can I get a selfie with you?”
“Sure, Vonda.” He leaned across the table, tucked his long hair behind one ear and smiled his megawatt smile, pressing his cheek to hers. She pulled back, and he lifted his chin. “Text me a copy, babe.”
She waved goodbye and walked off.
Liam shook his head.
“What?” Rory asked.
“You draw ‘em like flies.”
“I can’t help it. I got all the good looks in the family.”
Liam chuckled and shoved the last of their gear in a duffle bag. “Tell Jameson’s legions of followers that one.”
Rory rolled his eyes then nodded toward the end of the hall. “They’re packing up. She’ll be gone soon.”
“I realize that.”
>
“For once in your life, brother, take a damn risk.”
“What are you talking about? I take risks all the damn time. I went with you just last spring to climb Medicine Man. Got all the way to the top, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, I guess Medicine Man is a good climb for a beginner like you,” Rory teased.
“Fuck off.”
“I’m not talking about rock climbing, dumbass, I’m talking about taking an emotional risk.”
“What the fuck is an emotional risk?”
“You always settle for the ones that come on to you instead of going after the ones you’re really interested in.” He lifted his chin toward the end of the hall. “Like Velvet Jones.”
“I don’t do that.”
“Yeah, you do, bro. All the time. Opportunity’s staring you in the face, but if I know you, you’re too afraid you’ll get burned.”
“Don’t you have a flight to catch?”
“Plane leaves in two hours.”
“What time does your band take the stage?”
“Nine tonight. Why don’t you come?”
“You know I have to drive the truck full of all this shit back to Colorado.”
“Sucks for you.”
“Yeah, so you should be nice to me.”
Rory’s lips split into a devilish grin. “Maybe I’ll go see if I can get Velvet to sign one of those calendars for you. I’ll have her make it out to my ugly older brother.”
“Gee, thanks.”
***
An hour after the expo closed, Velvet and her photographer sat at the hotel bar. It was a nice place, sleekly decorated and dimly lit.
Velvet lifted her lemon drop martini. “To us.”
Aaron lifted his Scotch. “To you, beautiful.”
They toasted, and Velvet gave him a small smile as she licked the sugary rim of her drink. “I can’t believe we sold over a thousand copies of the calendar this weekend.”
“I can. The men loved you. Hell, at one point the line for you to sign them was down the entire aisle. I was afraid we were going to run out of copies.”
“I never would have believed it. I thought you were crazy for bringing all those cartons.”
“We completely sold out this weekend.”
“There’s another tattoo expo in New York coming up. Maybe we can hit that one?” she suggested.
He set his glass down and ran his finger around the rim. “Not sure I can get them printed in time, and it’s probably too late to get a booth.”
Velvet frowned. Aaron was usually so positive and enthusiastic about the opportunities for them. It just wasn’t like him, but she nodded. “Okay. Maybe Miami or—”
He cut her off. “Yeah, sure. We’ll see. Let’s talk about that tomorrow.”
“All right.”
He downed what was left of his drink. “I need to call Angie. She’s left me several messages. She’ll be excited to know how the event went.” He stood, digging in his wallet and throwing some bills on the bar. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll call her from my room.”
Velvet started to push her drink away.
“No, honey. You stay. Enjoy your drink. I’ll call you first thing in the morning; we’ll meet up for breakfast and make some plans for the future, then get some good shots in with the morning light.” He hugged her, then pulled away, his hands on her upper arms,. “You did good, kid.”
“We did. I couldn’t have done it without your beautiful photography.”
He chucked her chin and then walked out.
Velvet turned back to the bar and lifted her glass. A bluesy song was playing, and she took a moment to savor her success. She stared at the bottles lit-up in an amber glow behind the bar. With the money they’d earned this weekend, she was that much closer to her dream. She was finally making enough money to do something she’d wanted to for years. She’d longed her whole life to be able to have her future dependent on only herself, to have her success or failure rely solely on her own shoulders, not be at the whim of someone else. She wanted to be her own boss.
She didn’t want much. She didn’t need fame or wealth. She just wanted a little piece of happiness, and in her eyes that was something as far from the world she found herself in as one could imagine. Looking at her ink, one would never guess what her real dream was. She loved the tattoo world and the people she’d met in it, but it hadn’t been her dream in life to be where she now found herself—a tattoo model. It was just a forced circumstance that had become a means to an end. What she wanted was as far from this as she could get.
She wanted a simple, cute little vintage coffee shop. She dreamed of lining shelves with books of all kinds. She dreamed of it being a place where people loved to come and spend time, where the community gathered and where all were accepted. She’d decorate it up big for holidays, and she’d definitely have a corner filled with children’s books—something she’d never had as a child—and maybe even a colorful rug for them to lay on the floor and read while their parents sipped on delicious coffee drinks. That was her dream, and now with the earnings she’d split with Aaron on the calendar sales, she was almost able to have it. She was so close she could taste it.
She’d even found a location, and the landlord had given her until Tuesday to put the deposit down on the lease.
Someone slipped onto the barstool that Aaron had vacated, and the bartender approached, tossing a coaster down on the bar. “What can I get you?”
A deep male voice replied, “Bourbon. And get the lady another.”
She turned to thank the man, but froze when she saw him.
Her stomach dropped, and she heard a roaring in her ears as the panic rushed through her. She said a quick prayer in her head that he didn’t recognize her as the fifteen-year-old kid he’d once tattooed.
***
Liam glanced over at the beauty he’d been drooling over during the convention. He couldn’t believe his luck when he walked in the bar.
His eyes took in the black pants that hugged her long legs, the high-heeled sandals, and the skimpy red top with skinny little straps that displayed all her colorful ink. She was stunning.
Here was his chance to take that risk Rory had berated him about. Maybe Rory was right. Maybe he needed to be more open to opportunity and quit worrying about getting burned.
“Hey.” He greeted her with a smile.
“Hey.”
“Nice ink.” Shit, could he be more cliché?
“Thank you. You, too.” Her eyes moved over the exposed ink at his neck and rolled up sleeves.
“I saw your line today. Your hand must be exhausted from autographing so many calendars.” God, he sounded like such an idiot, like he’d never hit on a beautiful woman in his life. He wouldn’t be surprised if she rolled her eyes and turned a cold shoulder on him. But, thankfully, the pick-up gods were smiling down on him. Instead of blowing him off, she grinned and flexed her hand.
“I’m recovering and this is helping.” She lifted her drink and took a sip.
I bet it is. A pretty drink for a pretty lady. Does it taste as good as it looks?” What he really wondered was did she taste as good as she looked. By the tug at the corner of her mouth, she got the innuendo.
“Absolutely.”
“Looks delicious.”
She lifted her chin to his drink. “I’m sure there’s something to be said for Bourbon straight up. It’s such a manly drink, isn’t it?”
He huffed out a laugh. “Well, I’m a man, so, yeah.”
She seemed to relax and even giggled. It was a soft melodic sound that drew him further under her spell. “Yes, you definitely are, handsome.”
Was she flirting with him? He extended his hand. “Liam.”
She hesitated a moment, then took it. “Velvet.”
“That’s a unique name.”
“I’m a unique woman.”
“No argument here.”
***
Fifty-four minutes later he was pulling her through the door to his ro
om and falling onto the king-size bed. They rolled around on the white goose-down duvet cover, tossing articles of clothing to the floor piece by piece.
She climbed on top of him and began unbuttoning his shirt. His palms smoothed up her thighs while he let her undress him. She tugged the tails out of his jeans and went to work on his belt buckle. When it was open, he sat up and captured her mouth with his while he tugged her shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor.
Her bra was see-through lace and with a snap of his fingers he unhooked it and pulled it down her arms. Her gorgeous breasts popped free into his waiting hands. He squeezed them and brought one, then the other, to his waiting mouth.
She arched her back when he closed over her nipple and sucked hard. Her moan was music to his ears. He squeezed and sucked and played until she was writhing against his cock.
She dragged her sweet pussy against him, getting off on it. He had no problem with that; he loved that she took her pleasure, but it was torture for him.
Her grabbed her face with his hands and latched his mouth to hers, sweeping his tongue inside. Her lips were soft and pliant, and she tilted her head back, giving him all the access he wanted. He stroked one hand down her long delicate neck and threaded his fingers into the hair at her nape. He held her head in position while he thoroughly kissed her.
Finally, in need of breath, he lifted his mouth from hers. “Goddamn, I’ve wanted to taste you from the moment I saw you rolling around on that white fur. You were so hot, sweetness. God, I’d love to see you rolling around on it topless, that soft fur tickling these pretty pink nipples. Would you like that, baby? Would that turn you on?”
“If it turned you on to watch me, I’d do it.”
“Hell, then I’ll buy a white fur rug.”
“The way you talk.”
His hands drifted down to cup her lush ass, controlling her writhing motions and applying more pressure. “You like that?”
“Oh, God, yes.”
“It’s fucking torture. I want inside you so bad, lady.”
He rolled her until her back was flat on the bed. Then he moved up to his knees and worked the fastening of her pants. He stood at the foot of the bed and slipped her sexy as sin strappy little sandals off her feet, noting the pink polished toes and the trailing vine that was tattooed around one ankle. He slowly pulled her pants off, revealing what had to be God’s gift to mankind. Her long legs were perfectly shaped, and his eyes trailed up them. Colorful ink ran up either thigh and over the gorgeous curves of her hips. His eyes stalled at the juncture of those beautiful thighs. A scrap of red lace that matched the bra he’d already tossed aside was all that covered her from his gaze. The see-through lace gave him a tantalizing glimpse of her delectable pussy. “You gonna let me taste that, Velvet?”
Liam Page 1