House of Payne: Tag

by Stacy Gail

  “Your dragon’s amazing,” Payne drawled, “but it’s just one dragon. Ivy gave the House twelve designs in one. Just sayin’.”

  “Well, someone’s got to be a genius around here. Might as well be me,” Ivy shrugged, then added a sweet smile for the cameras. “For those who like to mix astronomy and astrology with their mythology, I also placed the constellations carefully within each character. You have to look for it, but the constellations are there, which is a perfect way to make these tattoo designs that much more personal.”

  “Show-off,” Tag muttered, while his smile belied his words. There was so much to her, he marveled, watching her as she fielded a question like a pro. When he had first laid eyes on her in this very room and got knocked sideways over all the fiery passion he’d sensed seething inside her, he now knew that what he’d sensed in her had only been the tip of the iceberg. They’d been together as a couple for a week now, spending every free moment they had together, and with each passing day he’d begun to think of her as the living embodiment of fire. From her art to her wit to the bedroom—and a lot of other places—she was nothing short of sizzling.

  Payne had been more accurate than he knew when it came to Ivy’s absentminded approach to the mythology tattoo challenge. She hadn’t even started it when Tag had mentioned his own design to her, a dragon with outstretched wings specifically created to be inked along a person’s back. Yet in that short timeframe, she’d come up with the concept of twelve designs for the zodiac, then knocked them out one at a time like a fucking machine. He’d never thought about his own creative process; his way of stewing over whatever project he had in mind worked for him. But Ivy’s process was completely different, a freewheeling stream of consciousness that ultimately gelled into a genius that could be seen and touched. She was unafraid to fail at whatever she did, and that confidence was a sight to see.

  Not to mention, one hell of a turn-on.

  Because of that, he’d probably been more of a hindrance to her than a help this past week. Then again, considering how things had turned out, he had no regrets. Throughout the week he’d worked at getting Ivy accustomed to the concept of edging, and after some cute awkwardness in the beginning, she seemed to genuinely enjoy it now. Usually if they spent the morning together—something he’d made sure they did despite a new project he was working on—they had sex first thing. That seemed to be the key to making Ivy more amenable to what was to come. Once the afterglow was gone—usually after breakfast and a shower—he’d play with her until he’d brought her to the edge of orgasm multiple times, then promised to give her satisfaction later that night.

  The first couple of times he’d done it, she’d cussed him out while still sweetly allowing him to do whatever he wanted. The disrespect had earned her a spanking, and when she’d come while he’d been turning her gorgeous ass red, she’d been shocked and he’d been thrilled.

  His woman was so sexy he couldn’t begin to believe his luck that she was in his life.

  This morning things had gotten even better. For the first time, he’d decided to see if she’d be open to the instruction of edging herself while he watched. To his delight, she’d done it without hesitation. His cock had pulsed with agonizing need as she’d worked on herself until she moaned, her mesmerizing whiskey-colored eyes latched on to his as she brought herself half a dozen times to near-completion, mutely begging for a release he wouldn’t let her have.

  That was his privilege to give her.

  And he would.

  When they were both screaming, he’d give them a release they’d never forget.

  “By now, you all know the drill.” Payne spoke into the microphone placed on the white-draped table before him, his sharp eyes sweeping the room. “We’ll meet back here this time next week to reveal both the winner of the mythology tattoo design challenge, as well as reveal the artwork for next week’s challenge. The theme for that—and Ivy, please pay attention this time,” he added dryly while Tag discreetly rested a hand on her bare knee and caressed her silk-soft skin. “The theme for next week’s tattoo design is… animal kingdom. Anything that falls into that category is allowable and the only limit is your imagination. Personally, I can’t wait to see what you both come up with, considering that what you’ve showcased for us already has been pure brilliance. Good luck.”

  “Time to mingle.” As if by magic, Scout appeared behind their chairs the moment Payne wrapped up the presser, when Tag had ideas of sitting a while longer with Ivy by his side so he could slide his hand farther up her leg… “Last time we did this, neither one of you got out there and did the meet-and-greet promo thing, so this time I’m making sure it happens.”

  “I don’t have time for this shit.” Irritated at the interruption, Tag turned in his seat to throw a scowl over his shoulder at the House’s manager. “For one thing, I’ve got a big project going on a few blocks from here and I’ve got to get going on it before I lose the light. And for another, I’m with Ivy right now. If I’m not working, that means whatever spare time I’ve got is gonna be spent with her.”

  “Honestly Scout, our art speaks for itself.” Ivy inched closer to him, as if encouraging the slide of his hand northward. Damn, she was hot. “Generally speaking, artists aren’t all that great when it comes to being social.”

  “Gee, what a humongous news flash that is,” the other woman drawled and pulled Ivy’s chair back, breaking the discreet contact that had been building Tag’s excitement to almost unbearable levels. “I know all about artists, Ivy, and I’ll be the first to give sworn testimony that all you artsy types are more high-strung than a barrel of coked-up monkeys. But I’m going to pretend I don’t know that and send you out there into the fray anyway. Good luck, smile your best smile, and try not to spit in anyone’s eye.”

  “Looks like we’ve got no choice.” Ivy’s sigh was wistful as she came to her feet along with him. Today she was in another bright color, a flamingo pink halter dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. He’d watched her get dressed a handful of hours earlier, and all he could do now was think about how soon he could get her out of it. “Look at it this way, honey—the sooner we start, the sooner we can get the hell out of here.”

  “That’s the spirit.” All smiles, Scout pushed them toward the throng.

  “And are you upset with your loss to Tag’s nautical design?”

  Ivy bit back a sigh at the question that had been asked, and answered, four times now. Maybe if she recorded her answer and emailed it to everyone… “Absolutely not. I’m thrilled to be a part of this contest House Of Payne is sponsoring, and it’s an honor to have my artwork sitting alongside Tag’s.” If only she were sitting alongside Tag now, he’d no doubt have his hand up her skirt and daring her to make a sound.

  Just the thought made her squeeze her thighs together in a futile effort to stop the latest bloom of hot slickness in her cleft.

  It was amazing, really, how her brain had been utterly rewired in just a week. Before Tag had come along, her thought processes had run along the predictable lines of work schedules, grocery lists, what painting supplies were running low, and what her next several projects were going to be.

  Now it was just one thing.

  Sexing it up with Tag.

  At first she’d told herself that this new obsession wasn’t about Tag at all. Instead, she’d tried convincing herself it was all about sex. She was even able to believe that for a little while, since edging definitely had a mood-altering effect on her, to the point where she’d had the vague concern that she was becoming a nymphomaniac. But her mania—if that’s what it was—was highly selective. There were plenty of men around for her to get her freak on with, from the circle of friends she shared with Minnie, to the eligible bachelors Ji tried throwing her way when she wasn’t trying to get her daughter to settle down with Hyun. Ivy had even been asked out by a cute and openly flirtatious barista the last time she and Minnie had stopped off at Keep Grinding.

  No one made her he
art flutter, much less anything else.

  It was only Tag that turned her on.

  How? Seriously, how did he do that?

  As far as she could tell, he did it simply by looking at her. That was all it took to make her a trembling, needy mess.

  The fact that she had somehow made peace with that was as stunning to her as much as anything.

  “Ivy? Is it true?”

  She blinked and tried to focus on the middle-aged female reporter in front of her. “Sorry, it’s so loud in here,” she lied, mortified that she’d glazed over while thinking about Tag. “What was the question?”

  The woman held her phone up, obviously recording her. “Sebastian Payne has admitted trying to woo Tag over to work for House Of Payne full-time. Has Payne offered you a job as well?”

  “Since I’ve never tattooed anyone, I can’t imagine why he would,” she shrugged, smiling. “And I’ve already got a full-time job.”

  “So you have no interest in working at House Of Payne?”

  “No, though in all honesty this contest has been so much fun I’m thinking that I might start a side business after it’s all over, and sell tattoo designs online. I’ve got a ton of ideas, and I can’t wait to get started on them.”

  A few questions later, Ivy managed to break free from the reporter, and she was making a beeline for Tag when a sunken chest dominated by a Jackson Pollock Man with Knife tie stepped in her path. Backpedaling before she crashed into that tie and the person behind it, she found herself looking into the face of the one person she would have been happy to have never laid eyes on again.

  “Oh, uh, Mr. Buckwald.” Relieved she’d managed to pull the man’s name out at the last second, she tried for a polite smile. “If you’ll excuse me—”

  “I was hoping to snag a minute or two of your time, my dear. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve done quite the deep dive into your personal history. By the way, may I call you Ivy?”

  “Um…”

  “Ivy, darling, I feel I owe you the most heartfelt apology,” he went on, shocking her enough to make her brows shoot up. Forget the apology, since when had she become darling? “After all, I take pride in being the preeminent voice of the Chicago art scene, yet I regret to say that I’d never heard of you. My deepest apologies, my dear, for thinking you were nothing more than a pretender making a grab for an unearned spotlight.”

  “Oh, uh, no worries.” She waved a vague hand, wanting only to forget the humiliation this elitist blowhard had heaped on her the last time they’d crossed paths. If he was big enough to offer an apology, then she was damn well big enough to accept it. “I’ve never been sure how to advertise my own art other than entering various competitions or whatever, so it’s not all that surprising you’d never heard of me.”

  “It’s just such an unusual story, how your gem design came to be used by Tag. So dramatic. Who could have imagined that your dear little brother—and that tiny white lie he told so long ago—would one day lead to such a big hullabaloo?”

  This guy knew how to talk about drama, all right. “I’m not sure it was as big as a hullabaloo. More like a minor kerfuffle. What matters is that in the end the truth came out.”

  “But did it really? I’d love to know more about your brother, maybe even do a feature on what it is to grow up in crime-riddled Back of the Yards, and how it became a breeding ground for you and Tag, the two most powerful voices in Chicago’s art scene.”

  She felt her cheeks grow warm. “Whoa, I’m nowhere near that.”

  “Oh, but you are, darling,” he gushed, reaching out to take her hand in his. “You’re the one who won the Malkin scholarship. You’re the one who earned herself a full ride to Chicago Arts and Technical Education private high school, and of course you’re now showing what you’re made of here at the House. Before you know it, I’ll be attending your first exhibit, telling everyone I knew her when.”

  “My goodness.” She smiled as he laughed—or maybe it was a chortle, but where she came from people didn’t freaking chortle, so she couldn’t be sure—and tried backing away. “That’ll certainly be something to look forward to. Listen, I should be—”

  “The only cloud on that brilliant horizon of yours is your sweet little brother.”

  That made her pause. “My brother?”

  “He’s like the guardian angel who brought your work into the light and led you to where you are now. So sad that he won’t be able to be a part of your much-deserved success.” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head so sorrowfully Ivy marveled at the display. “To die so young, it’s such a waste. What was that dear boy’s name again?”

  “Teo. Well, Matteo, but he only got called that when he was in trouble.” Which was pretty much all the time.

  “Oh, bless.” He patted her hand, which now seemed to be a hostage of his. “The information packet Scout handed out last week mentioned that your brother lost his life in a senseless act of violence, and that you were soon left alone in the world to fend for yourself. Tell me, did they ever solve the mystery of who killed your little brother?”

  “No.” And that unanswered question haunted the darker corners of her soul to this day. No matter how hard she tried not to think about it, she couldn’t help but obsessively wonder if she’d ever come face-to-face with Uncle Darius’s and Teo’s killers, and had never even known it. “The most the cops ever said was that they thought it was a gang-related robbery gone wrong. I haven’t heard anything about it for years now.”

  “That’s heartbreaking, you poor thing,” he commiserated, before brightening. “Let’s talk about something more pleasant, shall we? What projects are you and Tag working on now besides the tattoo challenge Payne has set up for you?”

  She blinked. It was a miracle she hadn’t gotten whiplash from the abrupt change of subject. “What we’re working on?”

  “Tag has always been so secretive about his work, you know—part of his mystique up until now, of course. He seems to delight in letting the world fall asleep, and in the morning letting it wake up to a new Tag-created mural. Rumor has it he’s working feverishly on something in addition to all this House Of Payne tattooing contest—”

  “I don’t know anything about it,” she cut in firmly, retrieving her hand at last. That wasn’t exactly true, but she wasn’t about to tell this guy that when they weren’t sexing it up, Tag was slaving away at some secret project in The Loop. “Good luck in finding out whatever it is you’re looking for, but I’m afraid I can’t help you in any way, especially when it comes to Tag.”

  “Really?” A hungry look etched itself into his face, and he leaned forward conspiratorially. “That sounded most… impassioned. The two of you wouldn’t happen to be together now? Romantically, I mean? That would be most interesting.”

  “What it is, or isn’t, is none of your business, Mr. Buckwald. Have a nice day.” Mouth tight, and with a sense of unease crawling over her skin, Ivy turned and got as far away from him as she possibly could.

  Chapter Twelve

  “FYI, Tag, kidnapping me right at this moment is seriously inconvenient.” Ivy scowled at him from the passenger seat of his SUV, out of sorts and not shy about letting him know it. He’d offered to be her ride to the press conference, and even agreed to take her to the grocery store afterward. But instead of taking her home like she’d expected, he headed north instead of south, as if he’d suddenly forgotten where Back of the Yards was. “I have groceries that need to be refrigerated. I don’t have time for a field trip.”

  “There’s a refrigerator where we’re going, or so I hear.” He took the turn-off for the Chicago Loop and Millennium Park, then scooted through a yellow light. “You bought a lot for just one person. Usually when I head into a grocery store, it’s just to pick up some frozen dinners or beer, or maybe some tortilla chips and salsa.”

  “With a diet like that, I’m both amazed and impressed you grew to be the man-sized man you are now. That’s not actual food, you know.”

  “
But what you bought is?”

  “As a matter of fact, I was hoping I could invite you over for a home-cooked meal tonight.” Still irked that her plans were now dashed, she crossed her arms and glared out the window. “You said you never really got that sort of thing while growing up except at that foster home, so I wanted to make you an old Gemelli family favorite—chicken cacciatore. That’s why I wanted to go to the grocery store.”

  There was such a long stretch of silence that it brought her attention swinging back to Tag, only to find him watching her with unblinking dark eyes as he came to a stop at a light.

  “You wanted to cook for me?”

  She nodded a little awkwardly. Did he think that was weird? “Yeah. I mean… I have to eat too, right? So why not make something for the both of us? It’s really good,” she added defensively when he continued to stare at her. “I’ve been making it since I was about thirteen, when my brother Teo and I went to live with our uncle. He taught me some Egyptian recipes too, though my favorite is pretty boring—rosemary lamb kebabs on couscous.”

  “Doesn’t sound boring to me.” The light turned green and at last he turned his attention back to the road, heading deep into the manmade canyons of the Loop. “I’m looking forward to that home-cooked meal, tiger.”

  “Uh, I’m not exactly sure you know how this works, so let me explain. I can’t just put all this stuff in a microwave and have it come out perfectly in five minutes. I actually have to be home in order to cook a home-cooked meal.”

  “Did you get all the ingredients you needed?”

  “Well, yes…”

  “So any kitchen will do, right? It doesn’t specifically have to be your kitchen, does it?”

  She frowned at him. “No. But we can’t just roll up on some random kitchen and start cooking, now can we?”

  “It’s not random. It’s gonna be my kitchen.” With that, he wheeled into the driveway of a tall glass building, flashed a card before an electronic reader, and pulled into the semi-darkness of the underground parking garage.