Skin Tight (Skin Deep #4)

by J. M. Stone

  “So, I’m extra-hot-ass, huh?” a deep, low, smooth as silk voice said softly, right behind my ear.

  I jumped and took a startled breath, sending a small piece of mint rapidly to the back of my throat. I coughed, not quite choking, but not quite breathing right at that second. My embarrassment of T.J. catching me saying what I said just added insult to injury.

  T.J. pounding me on my back wasn’t helping matters any, either, nor was the fact that my sister had jumped off her stool and had my arm in her hands, raising it up in the air and flapping it wildly, yelling, “Lift your arm above your head! Breathe!”

  I could feel my face flaming as I noticed that everyone waiting in the lobby was on their feet, eyes riveted to the drama unfolding behind the counter.

  “Okay! Enough!” I hollered once my coughing fit had stopped, my voice hoarse from the combination of coughing, being beaten half-to-death, and embarrassment.

  T.J. immediately ceased pounding, his hand still resting on my back, and Emma froze, my arm still suspended mid-air, her fingers clenched around it like a vise, so, of course, that’s exactly the tableau that was laid out before Luke and Brandon when they walked up front from their studios.

  “Why am I not surprised?” I heard Luke mutter, just as Brandon asked, laughingly, “What the hell is going on out here?”

  T.J. patted my back, gently this time, thank you God, as he quietly asked, “You good?”

  I nodded and jerked my arm away from Emma, scowling at her.

  “Hey, Mom always did it to us and all the grandbabies…” she mumbled, shrugging.

  I snorted and shook my head as exasperated laughter bubbled from my lips. “Good Lord, there’s never a dull moment around this damn family,” I sighed, sliding off the stool. I waved my hand toward the lobby, calling, “I’m fine, everything’s good, someone will be with you shortly,” urging them to ignore me again. Most of them (laughing, of course) sat back down, or turned their attention back to whatever they were doing previously while they waited.

  That left me with the attention of the said hot-ass tattoo artists and my sister, who, traitor that she is, gleefully filled Luke and Brandon in on why I was choking and hacking all over their counter.

  “She choked on a mint when T.J. heard her calling you all hot-ass tattoo artists.”

  Luke’s lips twitched and, shaking his head, he turned away without saying a word, heading back to his studio.

  Brandon’s mouth opened and shut a few times before he pressed his lips tightly together, I’m assuming to hold back the (naturally) smart-assed and (most definitely) inappropriate comments sitting on his tongue. He finally settled on a wink and a shit-eating grin as he, too, made his way back down the hall to his own studio.

  T.J., however, didn’t move. Nor did he even try to contain the mirth plastered across his face, now that I wasn’t in danger of choking to death. “What’s up? Where’s Ian?” he asked me.

  “He’s still at work, trying to finish up a job. He’ll be here when he’s done, if I’m not a home before then. I came in to see if any of you had time to squeeze me in for a tattoo, but,” I glanced around the lobby again. “You guys are pretty busy.”

  “I’ll get you, if you don’t mind waiting a little bit.” He turned to Emma. “Chase Ledford’s design is done. Will you call and get him scheduled?”

  She nodded and then handed him the signed consent form and info sheet for his next client. “These are mostly walk-ins for piercings,” she said, motioning to the room. “That guy, that girl, and that guy,” she said, pointing quickly, “are here to see about tattoos.”

  Before T.J. could say anything, Emma continued. “Just looking, picking out of the books, probably just flash, in and out, will wait.”

  T.J. grunted, apparently because he understood what she’d just said. I didn’t, but who asked me?

  He called his next client back with him and disappeared with a quick smile and a ‘wait here’ motion to me.

  Emma swiveled on her stool once more. “Alright, give. You don’t just show up here out of the blue for a tattoo on a whim.”

  I shrugged. “Yes, I do. I told you that when I came in and you asked what I was doing here. Did you forget already? Remember, the whole conversation about shorts and the weather and…are you getting senile?”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “Don’t deflect. Just answer the question. I’m so sorry I didn’t ask it as soon as you walked in the door, but we got a little sidetracked in conversation and coughing fits, remember? Now spill!”

  I gave her a wide-eyed look. “Seriously, Emma, I just came in to get another tattoo.” I paused, smiling. “And Ian is working, Chloe is helping her mom with something, and I was bored.”

  Looking at me suspiciously, she responded, “You sure that’s it?”

  “Oh my God! Yes, Emma!”

  She cocked her head and raised her shoulder, giving me a haughty-raised brow look as she dead-panned, “Okay, fine. Whatever.”

  After that, we both giggled and the conversation turned to tattoos and wedding plans. I helped her answer the phone and handed the guys paperwork as they worked through the waiting clients. There was only one left when Ian sauntered in the door, looking dirty, disheveled, exhausted, but still so sexy he took my breath away.

  I sighed, not even realizing I was doing it, until my sister laughed at me and nudged me with her elbow.

  “I remember those days,” she said, dreamily, staring off into space. “When just the sight of your man takes your breath away and then makes you wanna run to him and tear his clothes off and make hot monkey love to him sixteen ways to Sunday.”

  Ian stopped in front of me, his lips twitching with laughter as he mouthed, ‘Hot monkey love?’ to me silently.

  I pursed my lips and nodded my head solemnly, mouthing back, ‘Yep. So hot. So monkey-ey.’

  He couldn’t contain his chuckle any longer and let it out, his mouth stretching into a full grin.

  Emma jerked her head to the side and looked at Ian. “You laughing at me, Ian?”

  “Nope. I would never, dear sister-in-law-to-be,” he said cheekily. “But I might need to get some pointers from your husband on how to make hot monkey love sixteen ways to Sunday.”

  Emma’s cheeks flushed and she muttered, “Asshole,” under her breath, making Ian laugh even more.

  He turned back to me. “You get your tattoo, yet?”

  “No. They were pretty slammed when I got here, but T.J. said he’d do it if I waited. You wanna go home and get cleaned up? Wait for me there?”

  He shook his head. “Nah. I’ll wait with you. Unless you’re trying to get rid of me, already?”

  “Nope. Not a chance in hell, buddy. You’re stuck for life,” I told him, tipping my head back and puckering my lips at him, wordlessly asking for a kiss.

  He moved behind the counter and pecked my lips quickly. “I’m all hot, dirty, and sweaty. You don’t want me too close until I get cleaned up.”

  “Mmmm…you make that sound so sexy…” I waggled my eyebrows at him, earning another shake of his head.

  Emma snorted, then commented, “Hot and sweaty? Leah and I just had this conversation. It’s like negative two outside, so how can you be hot and sweaty?”

  Ian (with a straight face, might I add) said, “Emma, it’s thirty-nine, not negative two. And some of us actually do manual labor that makes us hot and sweaty, even in the cold. You know, unlike others who sit in nice warm buildings all day…” He winked at Emma when she sputtered in mock-outrage, and the two went back and forth for a bit, bantering good-naturedly, as usual.

  A few minutes later, Brandon came out and took the last waiting client back after saying hi to Ian, so when T.J. emerged from his studio room, he looked around to double check that he wasn’t missing anyone waiting still and then jerked his head for me to follow him as he greeted Ian, as well.

  Ian and I followed him down the hall, but Ian peeled off to go wash up a bit. I settled into the chair in the middle of T.J.�
��s studio room as he asked if I knew what I wanted.

  “I want just a line of script across the front of my upper thigh. Easy peasy.”

  “You have any particular font you’re wanting?” he asked me.

  “Can you just write it out for me, see what you can do?”

  “Sure. Here, write it down for me and I’ll work on it for a minute, see what you think.”

  I took the scrap of paper and pen from him and wrote what I wanted before handing it back to him.

  He glanced over it and then nodded at me. “I like that. What’s it from? It sounds kind of familiar.”

  “It’s from an e.e. cummings poem, my father moved through dooms of love.”

  “Hmm.”

  With that, he turned away from me and began writing, but it didn’t take him long. And as soon as he turned and handed me the paper where he’d scripted the quote, I handed it right back and said, “Perfect.”

  “You sure? You don’t want me to try a couple different ways, or-”

  “Nope. That’s perfect, T.J. Thanks,” I told him with a smile.

  Not long after that, I was the proud owner of new ink, scrawled flawlessly in simplistically beautiful script across my thigh…

  ‘love is the whole and more than all.’

  And I loved it.

  Chapter 17

  “Remind me again why I told Chloe about our engagement?” I groaned to Ian as I face planted into his chest as he walked into the house.

  I burrowed against him and then paused, taking a good long sniff at his shirt. I pulled back, my face scrunching up. “Why do you smell like you took a bath in perfume?”

  It was early afternoon on Saturday and Ian had had to go down to his office to finish up some paperwork. I stayed home to do a couple things that I had to finish before Monday.

  He grimaced and pulled away from me, which immediately raised my hackles because I knew right then what had happened. “She was there, again, wasn’t she.”

  He let out a breath and nodded.

  “Jesus criminey, what the fuck did she do this time? And why can’t she get shit through her fucking head, that she is not welcome anywhere near us?”

  “I know, baby. I was working in the office when she came in, said she saw my truck and wanted to say hi and apologize for everything. Tried to get me to agree to lunch as part of it, but she left when I told her no. She didn’t act crazy or anything, surprisingly.”

  I crossed my arms and shot him a skeptical look.

  “I’m being serious. She was her normal self…well, as normal as she was before all this shit escalated. Gave me a hug before she left, and even asked me to apologize to you for her, because she knows that you probably never want to see her again.”

  “Are you kidding me? Fuck no, I don’t want to see her face! Nor do I want her plastering herself all over you, even if it is an apology hug. She gets no hugs, do you hear me? Why were you so nice to her?” I asked, plaintively.

  “Leah,” he pleaded. “I wasn’t really nice to her. I just wasn’t really mean. I didn’t want to chance setting her off again, especially when you were home alone. You know I wouldn’t do anything to encourage her…”

  I sighed. “I know. I just…I just don’t trust her Ian. I have a feeling that the minute you show her some kindness, no matter how small it may be, she’s gonna run with it in ways that will probably end up with me in jail. And I’m just saying, orange is not my color.”

  Ian chuckled and leaned in, kissing me chastely on my forehead. “I’m gonna go take a shower. Wanna come keep me company?”

  “I’ll come watch,” I told him, winking saucily and then slapping his ass when he turned to walk away.

  He was in the shower and I was sitting on the counter, painting my toenails when he asked, “So, why are you regretting telling Chloe?”

  “Eh. I’m not really. She’s just in the wedding planning mode and now that her wedding is all set, she’s focused on ours.”

  I finished one foot and started on the other. “Not that I mind…but honestly, I don’t know if I want a big huge wedding, and you and I haven’t even gotten to talk about it, yet. You know?”

  A grunted ‘hmm’ came from the shower.

  I looked up from my toes. “Hmm? That’s all you have to say?” I rolled my eyes, muttering, ‘men’ under my breath.

  Ian sighed and responded with a placating, “Whatever you want, Leah. I just want you to be happy.”

  I snorted. “Uh huh…sure.”

  I finished my toes and had just slid off the counter when Ian shut the water off and stepped out, grabbing his towel.

  “Hey, Brandon called me earlier while I was at the office and asked if we were still on for tonight. Your mom and dad are gonna keep the kids, I guess, so Allie and Jacks are coming, too. He also told me to tell you that Emma’s making liquid cocaine again.”

  “Mmmm…” I moaned. “That stuff is so yummy, but damn, it’s potent! Yeah, we’re still on, if you still want to go.”

  Ian left the bathroom to dress and I followed, doing the crazy toes-up duck walk that all women do when their toes are freshly polished and still susceptible to smears, dings, and imprints.

  Ian’s voice was muffled from the closet when he answered me. “Yeah, that’s fine. But just so you know, we’ve all agreed that you’re not dancing on the bar this time.”

  “Uh, what do you mean, this time? I’ve never even been to this club before. Don’t try to punish me and Chloe for something that my sister and Allie did a long time ago.”

  He moved out of the closet, pulling a t-shirt over his head. “I’m just relaying the message. Your sister and Allie cooked this whole thing up to go dancing, and the last time they did, they ended up dancing on the bar and almost causing a riot. According to your brother-in-law, anyway. I wasn’t there.”

  He leveled me with a dark look. “And I’ll be damned if my woman will be up there shaking her ass where anyone but me could see.”

  “What are you gonna do? Bash me over the head with your club and drag me home?”

  “If that’s what it takes,” he said, smirking.

  “Ugh. Neanderthal.”

  He grinned. “You love me.”

  “You’re lucky,” I quipped, then changed the subject. “I’m hungry,” I whined, sticking my lip out in a pout.

  Ian banged on his chest with his fist and grunted. “Me caveman, get you meat. Feed woman.”

  “Ha, ha, ha…cute,” I said sarcastically, then shook my head, muttering, “Asshole.”

  He just laughed and tackled me backwards onto the bed, kissing my neck and jaw before claiming my lips in a hot, wet kiss.

  “Mmm,” I moaned, opening to him, but it was over just as quickly as it began.

  He lightly slapped my hip as he stood, reaching his hand down to help me up. “C’mon, let’s get you some food,” he said, smiling.

  ***

  “Wait a second, who’s DD tonight?” I called out, talking over everyone as we stood in Emma’s kitchen, dressed to the nines and ready to have some fun.

  Chloe glanced over. “You obviously weren’t paying attention a minute ago. We already discussed this. Luke and Jacks are being DD’s tonight, just in case your parents need anything with the little ones.”

  I nudged Ian and waggled my eyebrows at him crazily. “Know what that means, big man?”

  He just grinned and shook his head, tipping back his beer and finishing it off.

  Chloe, Allie, Emma, and I all grabbed our glasses of liquid cocaine and finished them off, then hustled the guys out to Brandon’s Expedition, which he’d offered up so we’d only have to take one vehicle. We were pretty scrunched up, but we made it work. Luke drove and Emma made Jacks sit up front, while Emma, Chloe, and Brandon sat in the middle, and Ian, Allie, and I all crawled into the back.

  It didn’t take very long to reach The Dungeon, which is the relatively new club we were going to. It had been opened for almost two years now, but I hadn’t been there, yet. I didn
’t really hit up the clubs anymore since Ian and I started dating, except for that time my sister and I dragged Luke and Ian to Shimbots with us for a drag show. But that’s a story for another day.

  When we finally got in the door and settled into a large, circular booth, Emma leaned in close to me so I could hear her over the music. “What do you think?”

  I looked around the club, taking in the dimness, the black, red, and silver color scheme, and the cages on either side of the stage area. “Looks pretty much like I expected, only a little less…dungeon-y.”

  She shrugged and grabbed Allie’s arm, tugging on it as she nudged Luke to slid out of the booth and let her out. “We’re going to dance while you get drinks,” she told him, then jerked her head and me and Chloe, signaling us to join her.

  Two hours later, it was pretty safe to say that we were having a good time. All of us were half-lit (some more so than others…okay, so mainly the girls) and exhausted from dancing, and had finally taken a break.

  But that’s when Victoria sauntered up to the table, one of the waitresses following behind her with a tray full of shot glasses.

  “Hey, guys,” she called, happily. Her gaze settled on Ian and she shot him a dazzling grin, ignoring the chill in his eyes. “Peace offering. I got shots for everyone, so drink up, okay?”

  She turned to me. “Leta-”

  “Leah,” Ian growled, interrupting her. “Her name is Leah, and you damn well know it. What the fuck are you doing, Victoria?”

  The music was loud in the club, but they were talking louder to be heard over the music and it was beginning to draw attention from other people around us.

  “I’m apologizing, if you’ll quit interrupting me, Ian,” she said to him before turning back to me once more. “Leah,” she began, putting emphasis on my correct name, even though she still rolled her eyes slightly as she said it, “I’m really sorry for everything and I’d love to make it up to you. Ian wouldn’t let me call you, though, so here I am, doing it now.”