Inked Love: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Cassidy London

  Nothing happened.

  Maybe he didn’t notice?

  His grin widened.

  Maybe not.

  It took everything I had to put my hands on those defined hard pecs and push him away. He stepped back instantly letting me slide off the table. His hands remained on my thighs and slid high up to my ass as I slid down. They slipped under my shorts and then over them and onto the small of my back. We held each other’s gaze for a moment longer. I finally broke away in embarrassment as a warm wet spot began forming in my panties. He just inadvertently felt me up. As if he knew, he once again smiled, winked and turned on his heels to walk out.

  I found myself all alone in a room that was made for making permanent marks.

  Chapter 14

  I spent the rest of the weekend hiding out in the apartment. After Saturday morning’s running incident, I hadn’t moved an inch other than to refill my plate and my wine glass. Why did I always resort to hibernation every time something went wrong? Who knows…maybe I’d been a bear in another life. Fatten yourself up Lexi, great idea. Can’t wait to see you waddle through that marathon late this summer. Wickedly laughed the nasty bitch that lived in my head.

  I flicked through my Netflix options and finally settled on some rom com. A good chick flick would be entertaining. Ten minutes in, and I was lost in thought. Thinking…about him. Jean-Marc Dubois. He was unlike anyone else I’d ever met. Always with an underlying seething anger that permeated his every move and word.

  Granted, maybe that was because we’d started out on the wrong foot by almost killing each other on the highway. What would have happened if we had only met at Angela’s party instead? Would we have had the same disdain for one another? I mused. Regardless, he was still a dick. A dick. His dick. I couldn’t deny that I’d noticed how he filled out his jeans. He wore them low, without concern. It only made his appeal even more bloody hot. Okay. I admit it. He was hot, drop dead gorgeous hot. I took another swig of my wine. But that didn’t change my feelings on his attitude. As Jason had so clearly taught me, good looks don’t hide a jackass’s personality for long.

  Besides, JM was so not my type. He was a brooding, dark, inked, dangerous, angry…. Fuck it! He also made my panties wet and my heart thump wildly out of my chest every time we were in the same room. His speech was filled with Québécois slang and an accent that that made every word sound delectably dirty. The way he rolled his r’s and dropped his h’s. I imagined for a split second him whispering naughty accented words in my ears while in bed. STOP it Lex. The sparks that seemed to spontaneously ignite every time our skin touched. JM himself was an aphrodisiac and every moment that I spent in his presence, I became more and more addicted.

  This realization scared the shit out of me. I knew I’d been denying it for weeks. Since we first met in fact. I was no longer pushing it to the back of my mind. I’d let the truth come out, and now I had to deal with it. Denial had only taken me so far. Now I needed to defend. Defend my heart and soul against this bastard who would surely stomp on it and leave me for dead. Resolve filled my mind as my fists clenched into tight balls. There’s no way in hell, I’d let that happen again.

  The ironic thing about forcibly denying yourself what you know to be true? First, you burn through all the batteries in your apartment. Then, you find yourself running to the dollar store on a Sunday evening because you just need that quick fix. When the sweet release offered by a battery-operated boyfriend is the closest thing possible from the obsessive, crazed filled lust in your mind…you know you have a serious problem.

  *******

  The incessant beeping of a truck backing up woke me the next day. It was so loud that I actually thought for one bleary eyed second that it was going to back up right into my apartment. That would have been too much excitement for a Monday morning though.

  Nope. Turns out it was just a regular day. I had a little over about an hour before I needed to be at my post over at the dinky little law office. I slowly dragged my ass out of bed and headed straight to the shower. I always thought more clearly in the shower.

  That meant I had eight hours ahead of me to ponder the various pieces of my life that were out of sync, and try and decide how to fit them all together. After Saturday’s encounter with JM, I knew that I needed a plan. A plan that would get my life on track and away from any more potential to fuck up. I’d wasted enough time on other people. And now realizing how much JM affected me, had made me swearing off men for the rest of the summer.

  I didn’t need any distractions. I needed to focus and plan out how I was going to take the next step after the summer. Going back to Toronto was out of the question. Jason would think I’d come back to him and my parents. My mother especially, would be back to her old puppeting ways and trying to fill my head with garbage.

  Maybe I could reconnect with Logan and head out west to see him? It had been years for sure, but we were still quasi friends on social media anyway. That counted for something when it was your flesh and blood right?

  Sitting out on the front porch, with a strong coffee in hand and a notebook, I tried to wrap my mind around it all. I knew I needed to get these thoughts out of my head and on paper. I had always been “a list” person. Back in school, I was known for making endless lists about deadlines, term papers and such. It helped me to feel organized and in control.

  I’d honed my craft well over all those years. One cup of coffee and ten minutes later, I had a solid list of possible life plans. Okay well maybe things like becoming a “solo travel blogger” wasn’t exactly a life plan but it was something I’d always dreamed about and what better time to throw myself into a project like this then now?

  After finishing up my dream list and a second coffee, it was time to get dressed and attack the day. I showered and let my hair air dry revealing its natural beach waves. White pants, a royal blue blouse and a few pieces of shiny silver jewelry and I felt professional…enough. In Toronto, I had to dress way more formal for work but Montreal was casual at the best of times and seemingly even more so in the summer. Plus, clerking was a solo job, so if I came into contact with more than two people a day it was a busy day.

  I’d been avoiding the Main since my last run in with JM. However, after taking my time making dream lists I now had no choice but to take the fastest route to work. That meant walking right past his shop. It was 8:15am, which did give me solace. Somehow, I was pretty convinced that people getting tattooed were not in this early.

  Chuckling at my own thoughts was even more pathetic than constantly avoiding this guy. I was beginning to feel bipolar. On one hand, my mind scolded me for still being concerned about avoiding him; while the other backslapped me for the incredible way he made me orgasm during my last solo session, just by thoughts of him staring at me.

  Blushing at my own thoughts, I immersed myself in the hoard of people trudging down the street towards the Main and ultimately, the metro that would take us all to our daily grind.

  I kept my eyes down and slowly glanced up as I approached the darkened shop. I breathed a sigh of relief upon noticing that the front door was not propped open, as it had been the last time. Thank goodness. I exhaled my nervous tension, knowing I wouldn’t have to see that infuriating man. Feeling safer, I allowed myself to continue staring at the shop as I got closer. Tattooing had always had an enticing hold over me. Although I had only ever felt rebellious enough in my teen years to get a tiny rose on my hip bone. I often fantasized about decorating large portions of my body with art. I envied the girls with full sleeves of flowers and leaves entwined across their forearms or poignant quotes of love and existentialism that peeked out of their clothing, assaulting the world with their words.

  Lost in thought yet again, I found myself parked in front of the shop examining its insides through the window. Just beyond the waiting area, was a desk and above it a print of what looked to be a surrealist painting. I wonder how I hadn’t noticed it that day. Oh yeah…maybe it was because I was hiding my face in
his chest with blood and sweat blinding me?

  I’d always been fascinated with the surrealist movement. The concept of unlocking the subconscious and meshing it together with the conscious mind, made for some heavy contemplation. Maybe a little too much like my recent circumstances. In any case, there I was, standing outside a tattoo shop owned by a man who I loathed, yet who utterly consumed my thoughts. This move was supposed to be my savior, but it was proving to be just as complicated as the last.

  All of a sudden, my fuzzy view of the shop came into very clear focus as JM’s eyes were suddenly staring right back at me. What the fuck? My mind screamed. I could feel my blood flushing past my ears. I felt myself falling deeper into his gaze, I wanted to run and hope that he hadn’t seen me. But it was hopeless. He casually walked closer and closer to the window until there was nothing but three inches of insulated glass between us. His dark eyes bore through and held me captive in their stare. Time stood still and I felt myself failing. Even through this transparent barrier, the feeling was visceral. My heart skipped a beat or two and all I could do was hope that I would be strong enough to withstand his soul-reaching assault.

  Then, as quickly as it began it was over. His hand reached for the blinds and he snapped them shut jolting me back into a harsh reality. My cheeks were flushed and my ego had been trampled once again. Embarrassment was becoming my new normal in this part of town.

  Chapter 15

  Despite all the awkward moments, I no longer could deny it. I actually wanted to run into him. Mostly because I imagined telling him he was a jerk and a pompous ass. Yet for some reason, the idea of having a screaming match with him was intensely attractive to me.

  The only thing that still confused me were the reasons behind his behavior from a few days ago. Why had he shut the blinds so quickly and aggressively? What was he trying to prove? Did he really dislike me that much? Had he had enough of my playing hard to get? I had to know.

  So now instead of avoiding the shop, I started purposely looking for reasons to walk past it. Besides, it wasn’t only that he intrigued me but also because I had decided that it was time to finally get a real tattoo. The tiny rose on my hipbone was minuscule and I was tired of wanting things I didn’t have. His shop was the most top-rated shop in the city, so going there was simply a smart decision. Or maybe…just maybe, it was the idea of having more heated banter between us that excited me.

  Somewhere deep inside though, I knew it was more. I had begun to dream about him. Beyond just being the main attraction in my fantasies but actually full on REM sleep dreams about him. He had replaced my fantasy man that used to replace Jason. Most recently, those dreams had left me in a peak state of arousal upon awakening. There was nothing like waking up to wetness smeared across your thighs to keep the image of someone alive in your head all day. I think, that it intensified my deepest desires of JM even more. He was like a forbidden fruit. Every part of me knew he was all wrong for me, but every part of me that was a woman knew he was exactly right for me.

  A few days after our latest stare down at the shop, I had my chance as I intently walked by his shop on my way home from work. I know, how ironic, right? But hey, my judgement was getting clouded okay? Muscles and dark brooding, good looks tend to do that to a girl.

  I told myself that my proposal was simply to suggest starting over. All this stress had gotten to me and I needed a fresh start. We certainly didn’t need to be friendly. Maybe cordial and polite would at least override the constant tension if we were going to be running into each other. Plus, I knew now that I definitely wanted that tattoo. Not by him of course, another artist at his shop would be just fine. But I certainly wasn’t going to go anywhere that wasn’t the best. It seemed perfectly sensible in my head, and I was eager to get started with this new plan.

  I must have repeated these conversations in my head over a hundred times before I actually got up the nerve to open that shop door. Each day I walked past it, stealing glances and clandestine peaks. Almost every time, I had failed at being inconspicuous as his eyes locked onto mine with each furtive glance through the glass. It was like he waited for me to walk by each day and when I did, he seemed to revel in the humor of tipping his invisible hat to me or a quick wink and appreciative nod. He was taunting me and it was infuriating. This man would be impossible to start over with. Maybe I needed to cut my losses once and for all? That was how my plan changed, back and forth incessantly. Like a never-ending failure that consumed me.

  Then finally came the day that really did change everything.

  It was a rainy Thursday evening when an unexpected lightning bolt followed by spur of the moment panic made me fling open the door to that tattoo shop. Within a split second, I found myself face to face, breathing in the scent of him. Funny how impending weather can give you the balls you need to do something you typically wouldn’t have the courage to.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” He hissed, so close that I could feel his breathe on me. “Stalking me again?” How on earth did he get so close so quickly? Had he been waiting for me to open the door?

  “Uhhh…the storm. I…I…” It was pointless, I was a lost cause. My hair dripped over my chest and clothes, and I squinted while drops descended into them. Mixing with my mascara, forcing me to close them and buying me time. A hot mess once again, I ran my fingers through the wet tangled strands and as usual, stood there unable to get simple words out of my mouth.

  Smirking at my discomfort, he spoke. “Oui, ma petite genie, I noticed the storm. As you can see TinTin usually lets me know about that shit way before it happens.” He motioned to a large brown and white dog cowering in the corner.

  “Oh, poor sweetheart!” I heard my ridiculously high-pitched voice cry. Why did I sound so ditzy?

  “The storm is just an excuse. What exactly are you doing here Alexis?” JM asked. His voice hard again. “You’ve been hanging around for days now, just waiting for a reason to come in here.”

  As he spoke, he walked over to a chair and melted down into the soft leather. Just the simple way he moved drew me in. A swagger of confidence mixed with pure, masculine sexuality continually oozed out of him. He reclined in the chair, his hands clasped behind his head giving me a perfect view that unleashed wild, delicious feelings from my core. My mind was at war with my body who continually betrayed me. My chest heaving, pulse thundering in my ear, it was all I could do to remain in control.

  “You clearly can’t stand me. Et en général, you are far too wound-up for me anyway. So…Alexis, what exactly ARE you doing here? And make it quick, I have work to do.” His words ripped through me unexpectedly. Never in all my fantasies had I anticipated that he would be that aggravated to see me. JM leaned back in the chair back against the wall, one hand ever so slightly running across his stubble, the other casually hanging out of his pocket.

  Millions of thoughts went running through my head. Where to begin?

  “Last time Madame Toronto. Qu’est que… tu… veux?” He spoke slowly, emphasizing each word. “What do you want?” The room was thick with tension and I was starting to feel light headed from the stress. This meeting was not going as planned.

  “Come on Alexis! I have better things to do than be distracted by your stupid shit. Either speak or get the fuck out of my shop.” He spat, staring at me like I disgusted him.

  “I just thought maybe we could start over JM. You know be civil to each other?” I offered hesitantly.

  He got up from his chair and towered over me. “Is that right Alexis? Somehow, I don’t think you could be civil if you tried.”

  His tone was brutal, cold and piercing. His eyes dark and menacing. I suddenly felt threatened.

  I immediately second guessed myself. Maybe he was right, what was I doing here? There had been nothing but nasty banter and rude words exchanged between us since we first met. Why was I here expecting anything to be different? I was mortified at my own stupidity and quickly tried to hide it.

  “Fine. Anyway, it doe
sn’t matter.” I backtracked. “I’m leaving town tomorrow.” The words shocked me as they came out of my mouth. I had only briefly entertained the thought of going out west to see Logan. What the fuck was I saying now?

  “Je m’en fiche.” He spat right back at me. “You’re an uptight, pretentious little bitch. I can’t believe I wasted my time with you. It will be nice to be rid of you and your stupid games for good.” And with that, JM got up and disappeared behind a door, slamming it so hard the whole shop seemed to shake.

  “Yeah…well, FUCK YOU too!” Was all I could muster before turning on my heels and running out into the storm. I ran the rest of the way home. Hobbling in my heels, the rain masking the tears that were streaming down my face.

  Chapter 16

  Bastard! I screamed throwing myself onto my bed and burying my face in the blankets. Complete and utter rage had overtaken my consciousness. Why was he so hot and cold like that? What had I ever done to him, to be treated that way? Ever since the moment I met him on the damn highway, he had been a jerk. Difficult, argumentative, cocky and not once had he ever given me a chance. Yet now finally in the moment where I wanted to be civil and put this childish shit behind us, he had the nerve to be so condescending and downright mean?

  This would not happen to me again. I had been through enough.

  Maybe heading out west to see Logan was the right choice? God only knew why I’d said it but the more I thought about it, the better the idea seemed. I needed to get my life together and stop falling in to the trap of controlling men.