Undercover Lover
Her father or her lover, who will she side with?
Theresa McGhee
A sexy millionaire pregnancy romance by Theresa McGhee of BWWM Club. Features another free bonus book.
Willow hasn’t had it easy in life.
Far from it.
With a jailed absent father and an addict mother, half-black half-Latina Willow had to struggle to reach success as a tattoo artist at Bogey’s.
She’s beautiful though, as new customer Cameron notices when he comes in to get a tattoo done.
Willow notices her heart flutter around him too, and soon they’re burning it up in the bedroom.
Then somehow he makes it into Willow’s heart.
But when Willow’s apprentice Jody disappears, things turn weird.
Cameron’s some how connected to the FBI?
Bogey might have something ‘to do with’ Jody’s disappearance?
Willow’s jailbird father could be involved?
With all these unanswered questions - and a surprise pregnancy thrown in the mix - can Cameron and Willow’s passion survive?
Or will it all be torn to shreds?
Find out in this drama-packed, sexy romance by Theresa McGhee of BWWM Club.
Suitable for over 18s only due to sex scenes so hot, you’ll be daydreaming about your own undercover lover.
Tip: Search BWWM Club on Amazon to see more of our great books.
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Copyright © 2017 Theresa McGhee and AfroRomanceBooks.com No part of this text may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Free Bonus Book - Happily Ever After?
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
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Chapter 1
“You would have lost it, Willow, I swear.” Jody’s laughter echoed around the tattoo parlor where she was an apprentice. “The guy actually used the were you hurt when you fell from heaven line on me.”
Willow laughed loudly with her. “Let me guess. His shirt was unbuttoned to here.” She pointed at the space between her breasts. “And that chest was so hairy you thought he was wearing two shirts.”
“It’s like you were there,” Jody squealed, collapsing in laughter on one of the lounge chairs meant for customers ready for a tattoo, her piercings, two in her left eyebrow, one in her nose, and one in her lip, glinting in the florescent lights. “Did you put a camera in my nose ring?”
“Gross!” Willow laughed louder, shaking her head. “The angle would be so damn awkward!” She glanced at Jody, a smirk on her face. “So, did you go home with him?”
Jody’s purple hair whipped around as she turned her head to look at Willow, who thought to herself that Jody looked more like a tattoo artist than she did. With her purple hair and facial piercings, as well as the sleeve tattoo on her right arm and the funky clothes she wore, Jody fit in at a tattoo parlor. She was pale and wore black eyeliner with little other makeup, though she tried to portray herself as badass when everyone could see she was a girl who lacked self-confidence.
Willow, on the other hand, wore jeans and tee shirts with Converse all the time. She had several pairs of Converse in every shade they offered, and her tees varied from plain to rock bands to cartoon characters, whatever she found interesting. She’d chosen a neon pink tank top with the Eiffel Tower on the front paired with jeans for work today. Her skin was clear and the color of chocolate, thanks to her African-American mother and her Latino father, though she did have one tattoo on her right shoulder. Regardless of her talent, she really didn’t look the part of a tattoo artist, but she couldn’t imagine herself doing anything else. She’d proven to Bogey and the people she tattooed that she was one of the best over the last five years.
“I sure as hell didn’t! He was so old, probably fifty!”
“And you’re, what, twenty?”
“Twenty-one, thank you.”
“Maybe he wanted to be your sugar daddy?”
“Ew! Gross! You’re going to make me barf, I swear,” Jody yelled, pretending to gag.
Willow wiped her laughter tears off her cheeks and continued what she’d been doing when Jody had interrupted her: inventory for the owner. “Get over here. You’re supposed to be learning all these colors, what we use most, blah, blah.”
Jody sighed. “How long is my apprenticeship? I’m tired of watching.”
“Until Bogey thinks you’re ready,” Willow informed her as she checked the shades of red in the drawer. After noting the number on the iPad Bogey had bought for the parlor, she moved to the blues.
“How long was your apprenticeship?”
“Almost two years. And I worked here as the front girl for those two years, proving my art was strong enough for tattoos,” Willow offered, sliding her eyes to Jody’s with a patient look.
“I feel like I’ve proved my art is worthy,” Jody pouted. “I’ve been an apprentice for almost a year!”
Willow shrugged as if she didn’t know why Jody was still an apprentice, when she actually did. Jody’s art was amateurish and weak. Bogey’s Tattoos was known for excellent work, and Bogey wouldn’t tarnish that reputation. He liked Jody, as did Willow, but Bogey had discussed releasing her from her apprenticeship with Willow, asking her opinion. She’d been forced to admit the truth; the girl just didn’t have the talent or the self-confidence to do this work.
“Okay, see here how I’ve noted the number and shades of blues we have,” she asked Jody, changing the subject. Jody huffed and moved closer so she could look over her shoulder. “You do the oranges and yellows.”
“What about the greens?”
“I’ve already done blue, green, and red.”
“I didn’t see you do green,” Jody announced, skimming over the inventory page on the iPad. “Oh, here it is.”
Part of the problem, Willow thought with a frown. Jody argued every point, regardless of how minor the issue. She even argued with Bogey occasionally, and Willow was still shocked the girl had lasted for almost a year. She’d told Bogey she wanted to be off the day he released her, and he’d called her a coward.
Willow rose and walked to the front counter to check for customers, though the bell on the door hadn’t dinged in two hours. The week had been slow, and all Thursdays were slow. Most people waltzed in on Friday night or Saturday night to get their tattoos, and part of her job was to make sure they weren’t making a drunken decision or a rash decision. Tattoos were permanent, after all, and she didn’t want some college sorority chick coming in crying because she had changed her mind a day later.
“What time are we closing tonight?” Jody aske
d as she counted.
Willow sighed. “Well, it’s seven. We need to give it until at least nine.” She grabbed her bag and pulled out her laptop, thinking she might as well work on homework if she had nothing to do.
“Nine? But that’s two hours.” Jody’s whiny voice grated on Willow’s nerves.
“We’re not supposed to close until ten, so quit your bitching,” Willow ordered. “Finish the inventory, take out the trash, and then clean the equipment.”
“I already did,” Jody complained.
Willow grabbed her phone without responding and sent Bogey a text.
WILLOW: I’m going to kill her.
BOGEY: Please don’t. Bad publicity for the shop.
WILLOW: Can I send her home? We’ve had nobody for two hours, and the last guy didn’t even get a tattoo.
BOGEY: Send her home at eight. You stay ‘til nine.
WILLOW: Thank you thank you thank you!
“Hey, Bogey said you can go at eight, or when you’re finished with the cleaning,” Willow informed her with a big, fake smile.
“Really? Awesome!” Jody finished the inventory and handed the iPad to Willow to check. She hurried over to the closest chair and began the arduous task of cleaning the equipment. Thirty minutes later, she had finished everything she’d been asked to do, waved a goodbye to Willow, and hurried out the front door.
Willow was grateful for the silence left behind by Jody. She’d checked the inventory for mistakes and had only found one, which was an improvement. The instruments had been clean when Jody had cleaned them again, so Willow didn’t feel a need to check her work in that department. She returned to her laptop and hummed to herself as she worked, occasionally referencing a textbook next to the laptop.
Her best friend, Kelsie, had convinced her to use some of her savings to enroll in online classes. “Come on, Willow. You’re right, you don’t have to have a degree to own a business, but it sure will help you with the ins and outs. You really have no idea what to do.”
Willow had replied petulantly, “I know what to do.”
“Really? Where do you get a loan for startup costs? Do you have good credit? What about permits, a building, all the stuff you need to do that? Not to mention the health inspector stuff.” Her words had started at a normal pace, but by the end she was barely understandable.
“All right, calm down. I know a degree would be better but going will push my dream further into the future.”
“Not if you’re working and saving at the same time. I’m telling you, Willow, a degree will make your dream happen faster. You just have to spend time to get it.”
Willow hadn’t agreed with her on the faster part. She had just received her associates and had been working for Bogey for five years, three of which she’d been a licensed artist. At twenty-six, she was well on her way to achieving her dream of owning her own parlor, and she had been saving every penny she didn’t spend on basic needs. Even with the sacrifices she’d made, she was still a good three or four years away from owning her own place.
With a sigh, she booted up her laptop and began working on a paper due Sunday by midnight. Her stomach grumbled, and she remembered she had a sandwich in the fridge in the back. She grabbed it and hurried to the front, though there was no need. Well, only another hour and I can go home, she thought as she continued typing her paper and eating her sandwich.
Thirty minutes later, she was deep into the paper and thinking she’d finish it before she went home, happy that she would be able to submit it early when the front door opened and a man walked in. Willow looked up, closing her laptop at the same time so she could greet him.
“Good evening, sir. Welcome to Bogey’s,” she said, a smile on her face. He turned and smiled a lazy smile at her. His blonde hair was tipped with white from hours in the sun, and his skin was so flawless she wondered if he was a vampire. No, too tan, she thought. That man is in the sun a lot.
He was blonde with blue eyes and a body like a professional swimmer’s. At least six feet, broad shoulders, long legs, and everything well-muscled, Willow liked the way he looked. Handsomely sexy, he watched her for a moment before speaking. “Hi. Are you the tattoo artist?”
Used to this question, especially from men, her smile remained on her face without any outward signs of the annoyance she felt. “I am. Licensed and everything.”
He chuckled and leaned on the counter. “Well, I’m considering a tattoo.”
“It’s a big decision,” Willow assured him. “Once you have it, it’s forever.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Yes, I’ve heard that about tattoos.” His smirk was adorable and eased the sting of his sarcasm, so Willow laughed.
“Do you have something in mind?” she asked after the laughter subsided.
“Yes, actually.” He turned and lifted the hem of his tank top, which showed off incredible biceps Willow wanted to touch. His abs and what she could see of his chest after he lifted the shirt were perfectly sculpted muscle, and the desire to touch him amped up several notches. “I got this tattoo a year ago, and I’d like to stay with the same theme.”
Along his side, Poseidon rode a blue wave cresting into white near his waist. He held his trident triumphantly over his head, and his mouth was open in what seemed to be a war cry. Poseidon’s body rivaled the man’s in front of her, sculpted and perfectly made. The sky behind him was jaggedly wrought onto his skin to give the image a clawed look.
“May I?” she asked, lifting her hand to indicate she wanted to touch his tattoo.
“Mind if I get your name before you grope me?” he joked.
She giggled prettily and pulled her hand back. “I’m Willow. And I guess if I’m going to grope you, maybe you should tell me your name as well.”
“Cameron.”
“May I?” she asked again.
“Of course.” He lifted his shirt higher and leaned sideways just a little so she had better access to it, a smirk on his face.
When her fingers brushed his side, her stomach clenched and her fingers itched to touch more of him. She clenched her thighs against the onslaught of warmth and bent at the waist to inspect the tattoo. He jolted a little when her fingers touched.
“Your hands are cold,” he excused.
“Wow. This work is fantastic. No slips, no ink blots or runs. Beautiful art. Who did this tattoo?”
“A guy in New York recommended to me by a friend,” he told her as he watched her running her fingers over his skin. Goose pimples formed, and she jerked her eyes to his. Quickly, she removed her hand and stepped away from him.
“New York? You from there?”
“No, no. I’m from here. Went to school for a while in New York. Hated it and hurried back to the west coast.”
“Huh. Can I be honest with you?”
“I prefer that, yes,” he said with a chuckle.
“If you went to the guy in New York, and he did something this fantastic, you should go back to him.” Cameron tilted his head in question, so she continued. “Listen, I do beautiful works of art as well, but I don’t like trying to copy someone’s style. This guy is amazing! I’d go back to him.”
Cameron nodded, though his surprise was clear in his eyes. “I assume you know how much a tattoo like this costs?”
She put her elbow on the counter and put her chin in her hand. She looked up at him through her lashes. “Why yes, I do.”
He smiled and leaned on his elbow as well. “Passing up the opportunity to get a payday like that is pretty selfless.”
“I’m an artist first, money-grubbing bitch second,” she whispered with a beautiful smile and a batting of her eyelashes.
Cameron’s look of shock quickly evolved into a grin, then laughter. “Jesus! That was fucking funny!” They laughed together for several moments together, harmonious laughter that felt, to Willow, like what laughter should feel like.
Willow’s laugh cut off when her thoughts slipped into how attractive this man was, how much she wanted to touch h
im. She thought for a minute she had lost her mind and snorted another laugh. Which caused another laugh from both of them. Willow wiped a tear from her cheek as the laughter subsided for real.
“So, we both have foul mouths,” Willow breathed as she put a hand on her side to ease the stitch.
“Yeah. I like it,” he said with a wink.
Willow rolled her eyes. “Anyway, seriously, Cameron, if I were adding to that piece of work, I’d go to the same guy.”
“What if I say I can’t go to New York and spend that kind of time?” he asked.
Their faces were close as they spoke, and without a thought, she tilted her head so their mouths would match, a subtle sign inviting a kiss. Cameron saw the invitation but did not accept, not yet. But she saw in his eyes that he wanted to.
“Hmmm. It does take quite a bit of time for this kind of detail.”
“I live about fifteen minutes from here. I have the time for that kind of detail,” Cameron answered. He tilted his head to match Willow’s but didn’t move closer.
“Do you have the money?” she asked, her eyes saying more than any words.
“I do,” he answered softly.
Abruptly, she broke eye contact and stood straight, a gasp escaping her mouth that almost frightened him. “Well, Cameron, I’m your girl. What did you have in mind?”
The sudden tone change surprised him, and he straightened more slowly. “Um, okay, well…”
“Do you want me to add to what’s already there, or are you considering something brand new that’s thematically related?” Willow asked, her brows raised in question.
“Thematically related?” he asked as he began flipping through his phone in his picture gallery.
“Well, is this a Greek god thing, an ocean thing? What exactly are you thinking?” she asked as she allowed herself to watch him while he was occupied by his phone. Damn, he’s fun to look at, she thought.
“Hold on a sec…” he mumbled as he scrolled. Loudly, he exclaimed, “Ah! Here it is. I thought I had saved this when I found it.”
Undercover Lover (BWWM Romance Book 1) Page 1