Skin Deep (Ink & Brazen Women)

by Cassie Leigh

  “See you later at the bar.”

  “Pull the trigger, kid.”

  Roman waved him off and the older man chuckled as he ambled out the door.

  “Mr. Joyce is nice. I have to say your clients have been quite the surprise.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that today I’ve watched a man in a suit come in and roll up expensive dress shirt sleeves to get your work, then Mr. Joyce, who is old enough to be my father. But the math teacher earlier—she took the cake. I never would have thought someone like her would have ink.”

  “You hang art in your house, right?”

  “Yeah, but this isn’t the same,” Gigi shot back.

  “Your body is the temple for your soul. Why shouldn’t it be reflected in art just like your house?”

  “That’s pretty deep stuff.”

  Roman shrugged. “I’m an artist, not an idiot.”

  “Never thought you were. It’s just that it’s so philosophical.”

  “I’ve got hidden depths. Which is why you should let me take you to dinner and show you.” She said no earlier and sure, it had bruised his ego—but call him a glutton for punishment because he just couldn’t let it go, no matter what his reservations might be.

  She stilled beside him and turned, facing him fully. Her cheeks flushed and her green eyes burned bright. But the downturn of her pretty pink lips gave him his answer before she did. “Roman, you’re my boss now. I don’t think we should.”

  Roman searched her expression for any hope. No—her expression was kind but stern so he saved face the only way he could think of. He changed the subject despite the bullet of rejection burning in his chest. Screw Billy and his fucking trigger. “Anyway, it’s late and you stayed longer than you needed to. Why don’t you take off and I’ll close up shop.”

  Gigi bent to grab her bag from under the desk. Roman struggled to keep his eyes fixed on the money he counted and not on her heart shaped ass. He choked down his disappointment, carefully keeping his expression blank as she straightened. The air felt thick between them—damn—she even smelled like the flowers he’d used as a background in the pinup art.

  The soft lilt of her voice broke the trance he’d been standing in. “I know I just started today but if it’s alright with you, can I start planning the first gallery event?”

  He shoved the cash in the bank bag. There was no use counting it tonight. He couldn’t even think right now, knowing they were alone, and in that intoxicating cloud of her perfume after she’d shot him down. “I’m wide open for Saturdays evenings. Book it whenever and let me know.”

  Moving around the counter hesitantly, she backed towards the door and then leaned against the glass as if waiting for something. She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it.

  Roman gripped the counter hard, just as he had when she first walked into his shop. “You have a nice night. See you Tuesday.”

  Gigi sighed heavily and shook her head. “Yeah, see you Tuesday.”

  CHAPTER 6

  ..................

  WORKING AT A TATTOO SHOP had made for an interesting week, and certainly more fulfilling than any Gigi had ever spent in cubical hell. The tattooed hunks she worked with treated her with more respect than the stuffy professionals strangled to death by ridiculous neckties. She’d long held the theory a necktie kept the blood flow restricted to their dicks instead of their actual brains.

  Of the five artists working here, not one of them had even attempted a pass at her or gotten flirty—including Roman after she shot down his request for a date. It was as if some kind of professional switch had flipped. After that beautiful drawing he’d given her, and the mixed signals of his on again and now off again flirting, they currently stood on radio silence. It had her all mixed up. Sure, she asked for the end of their mutual flirtation, but she missed it.

  Gigi spun around in her office chair, pulling her long sweater closed as she crossed her arms over her chest. Roman sat with one leg tucked beneath him. His ever-present white tee hung half tucked into dark washed jeans, cuffed at the ankle. She even liked his boots with their ridiculous red laces. The supple leather appeared worn and the color was mottled and weather-beaten. It reminded her of the golden brown char of a toasted marshmallow if you didn’t burn it to black. Of course that brought to mind campfires and being curled up in front of one.

  To be clear, she was not the kind of girl who went camping. However, she could do a cabin and a bearskin rug for the right man. She was nearly convinced that this rugged and sexy object of her temptation was the right kind of man for just that. He cleared his throat and her gaze shot up to meet his as he glanced up from the girl who lay prone in front of him. Their eyes met and he smiled before returning to the girl’s tramp stamp.

  Gigi studied his dark hair, messy from when he’d been jamming his fingers in it earlier while he’d been drawing up the tattoo design he was laying down now. She imagined he’d be similarly mussed after a tumble in her bed. As she pictured it, the thick black frames of his glasses slid down his nose. Something else she never thought she would find sexy. She’d learned that he needed them when he was drawing or tattooing a client. His dark eyes sparked with interest over the top rim of the frames as he alternated between his work and watching her.

  The corners of his lips quirked up, leaving her practically panting to kiss that damn dimple and feel the scruff of the day’s stubble against her soft skin. She licked her lips and his smile spread. She’d been busted.

  It was utterly inconceivable that she should be sitting here fantasizing about her boss that practically oozed hot and nerdy instead of doing something about it—or more to the point—doing him. She could lie and blame her self-imposed dry spell for wanting Roman this bad, but she’d want him even if she’d been serviced by one of her gentleman friends on her lunch break. She needed to lose Chad in a bad way before she did something reckless and stupid to jeopardize this job.

  “You want to take a look?” Roman lifted the tattoo gun and wiped his work clean. “I’m assuming that’s what you’re so curious about.”

  Not really, but then she’d have to admit she was checking him out and not his art. She plastered on a pleasant smile and nodded as she uncoiled herself from her seat. Moving around behind him, Gigi swept the bulky weight of her dark hair off to one side to prevent it from touching the client or him as she leaned over his shoulder to look.

  The girl’s denim and her white lace thong had been pushed down just far enough to reveal the upper half of her bare ass, making Gigi’s cheeks heat with jealousy. Even if she did take exception to the cliché placement and the way he’d had to become intimately acquainted with his client’s anatomy to complete it, the work itself was exceptional.

  An intricate crown and script that read “royal” in bold letters served as the centerpiece but it fanned out on each side like crystal strands of a chandelier. It flowed with the curve of the client’s ass, dipping down low.

  “It’s beautiful.” Gigi hadn’t considered that a tattoo could look so delicate. She actually had to stop herself from the urge to trace the fine lines with her finger. “It looks like jewelry.”

  Roman’s smile broadened at the awe in her voice.

  The client squealed happily. “I am so excited to see it now.”

  “Does it hurt?” Girls like Gigi—or rather the kind of girl she pretended to be—didn’t get ink, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be curious.

  The client peered over her shoulder at Gigi. “Sometimes, but mostly I just zone out to the buzz of the needle and after a while it just feels numb, like someone left a vibrator on my skin for too long.”

  “You thinking of going under the needle, beautiful?” Roman’s soft words spoken in a low gravel tone, just for her ears, felt like a caress in places meant to be touched in private.

  Her own answer came out breathy to match. “No, but if I did I would love that chandelier look.”

  Gigi stepped back, returning to he
r post at the counter and his attention returned to the woman spread out before him. Something pretty from his hands would be nice—a secret just for her—a peep show into the woman that lay beneath the public persona. She found the thought appealing. She imagined being naked under his hands while he left a permanent mark on her body in the form of art, the pain being soothed away under his touch. Would he kiss her and make it better? The wicked thought—low level though it was—made her smile and she filed it for later fantasy consideration.

  The heat and soft pressure of Roman’s hand pressing between her shoulder blades woke her from the haze of her own imagination before his voice registered. “Have a nice night, Dolly. Stop back if you have any problems.” He looked down at Gigi as the door closed softly. “Looks like it’s just you and me again tonight. What’s that make—third time this week that you and I were the last two here?”

  Gigi hadn’t meant to stay so late but she also couldn’t stand to leave him alone with that pretty blonde client and her beautiful tramp stamp. Pot, kettle, black—don’t care. “I was hoping to show you your new website. I didn’t want to interrupt you with your clients just for that.” That sounded like a reasonable enough excuse. Bonus points for not painting herself as a jealous shrew.

  He quirked an eyebrow up as if to say he wasn’t fooled but she tilted her chin up defiantly. His answer made her wish she hadn’t opened her mouth. “Show and tell could be fun.”

  She swallowed hard as she pictured his eyes on her while they took turns in a slow strip tease. That sounded so much more fun than a graphic design reveal. A wistful sigh escaped her lips before she could push it back down where it belonged. And from the grin that was quickly spreading across his lips, he heard it. Maybe that flirty switch could be turned back on after all.

  He leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest mimicking her own closed off posture. On him, with the colorful ink on his skin and the slight bulge of his flexed muscles, it was sinfully hot, making her flushed as she once again suppressed urges that were off limits for this man.

  ..................

  Roman know it wasn’t fair to tease her. In fact, he’d been a perfect gentleman all week, but it was wearing him down. The way she fucked him with her eyes nearly had him on his knees begging to taste her. He suppressed a groan at the thought.

  When she walked in this morning wearing another pink tunic over skintight leggings, he’d become painfully aware of her. If she hadn’t covered her foxy little self in that chunky white sweater, he might have had to kick the boys from the shop because he wasn’t sure his jealousy could handle it. She wet her full lips painted the same shade of pink as her top and his eyes were instantly locked in. He wanted his hands buried in the tumbling mahogany waves of her hair as he took those lips, claiming them with his own. Hard or soft didn’t matter to him. But it was gonna be more than that teasing taste from the week before when he’d left her at the door like the gentleman his mother had raised him to be. He wasn’t feeling like a gentleman tonight.

  He pushed off the counter and walked to the window. He turned off the neon sign and then moved to the door, softly turning the lock. She watched him with rabid interest as he moved back to her. He could see her calculating each action, as color flooded her cheeks.

  “If I were to lay ink on your body, where would you want my mark?” He’d caught her paying special attention to the tattoos that the shop’s female clientele came for, measuring each woman as a threat—or not—and then reconciling the woman with whatever design she chose. She wanted it. She just had to warm to the idea and if he had anything to say about it, she’d be getting her art from him only. He couldn’t stand the thought of another man’s hands on her naked flesh.

  “Someplace hidden—just for me. I saw a picture on Pinterest of a woman that had it underneath her breasts. I thought that was pretty.” She looked up at him though her dark lashes.

  He leaned against the counter beside her again. His legs crossed at the ankle while he let his mind drift to the kind of image he’d create for her. Soft pink roses came to mind first but she’d said she liked the jeweled look of Dolly’s art. He would enjoy letting his mind spin on that for a while.

  “That would be fitting on you.” His voice came out a little rough with the lust that was riding him hard. He had to remember why he couldn’t touch her. He needed a reminder right fucking now.

  She cleared her throat and pointed at the computer monitor. “I’ve got the web page. Do you want to navigate it or do you want me to flip through the pages for you quickly?”

  Blessed reality saved his dick just in time. His girl was all business because she didn’t do relationships. That’s what she’d said while talking to Ann right after he’d given Gigi that pinup art. That’s why he couldn’t have her. He forced an affable smile, dialing back the smolder with a little more ease now.

  A copper metallic header came up on the screen for Ink Spinners Tattoo & Gallery. The background was a collage of black and gray photos of the inside of the shop, proudly displaying the collection of gears and antique medical oddities that he and Declan obsessively curated over a lifetime. A box told the viewer about the idea behind the shop and a schedule of events. The next tab she went to was for the gallery. The skull made of layered gears had been featured front and center. The header declared the gallery’s opening night on the following Saturday.

  The next six pages were for each artist. The background for each created from a different black and white sketch provided by the featured artist. It contained a color image of the artist, a bio and two links. The first link took you to the artist’s portfolio. The other link took you to a scheduling page, complete with a form so the artist would have a heads up on what to expect.

  It hadn’t escaped his notice that on Roman’s page she hadn’t used the sketch he’d given her, but he let that go. He didn’t really want it on display anyway. It had been something intimate for the two of them and he’d only given it to her in an irrational need to offer her a glimpse into what he wanted with her—a glimpse she hadn’t mentioned once.

  “You really did a great job capturing the feel of this shop and each artist, Gigi.”

  She beamed with pride at his praise. That satisfied smile had him wanting her all over again. Would one more taste of her be so bad? If he took the leap and she didn’t stop him he wasn’t sure where it would end or if he wanted it to. If she would just give him some sign that he wouldn’t be crossing a line this would all be so much simpler.

  “I’ve got some ideas for the setup for next Saturday I’d like to show you as long as you have more time,” Gigi said as she rose from her seat. She walked backwards towards the gallery, her eyes locked with Roman’s, pulling him along after her like he was caught in a tractor beam. “This gallery opening is already pulling big numbers on the Facebook event post I set up.”

  His voice dropped to a suggestive growl. “I’ll make as much time as you need.”

  Her business smile turned sultry, telling him she’d picked up on his double meaning. This was the side of Gigi he liked—the vixen who was sure of her own needs—not that prim businesswoman who tried to play innocent. He felt that look burn through his blood as it all rushed into his erection. Her smile cranked up another notch. Yeah—she noticed. He couldn’t imagine much carnal knowledge getting past her.

  “I think we need a bar. Not a huge selection. Maybe just two choices. Something geared more towards the ladies and something more towards the men. Definitely classic in keeping with the place.”

  “Rosé for the ladies and whiskey for the men.” And yes, the Rosé was because it reminded him of her. He was already pathetic.

  “That’s going to get a little pricey,” she said in a low teasing voice. She stopped in a dark corner of the gallery where an antique chaise lounge had been pushed up against the wall. “I think this would be the perfect place to set the bar up. Do you know anyone who could be our bartender? We can’t charge for the alcohol unless we want t
o get a liquor license for the event or hire a caterer that has one.”

  “You’ve been doing your homework.”

  She lowered herself onto the chaise, and perched on the edge with her hands gripping her knees. “You never asked, but I double majored in art history and business. Pissed my parents right off. When Ann sent me here, she knew the gallery side of this would be too good for me to pass up.”

  “You love art.” Learning pieces of her like this made him want her so much more. She was right, if he had read her resume or asked a single question that first day, he might have already known. “I feel like I missed an opportunity to learn so much about you. Do over on the interview?”

  Gigi laughed. “That ship has sailed. You’re going to have to get it the hard way now.”

  “Dinner?” He moved closer to her, mesmerized by her soft smile and the way her hair moved in the dim light as she shook her head.

  “You’re the boss now, Roman. I think dinner might be against the rules. Don’t you?”

  He shouldn’t be surprised that she’d feed him the same argument—but still the tension between them had made him hope.

  “Not my rules.” He prowled towards her, until she had to crane her neck back to look at him. “Couldn’t you quit for the night? I’ll rehire you tomorrow.”

  Her sudden laughter held an intoxicating glimmer of her as she tossed her head back and abandoned herself to whatever joy she’d found in his silly declaration. In that unreserved reaction, he could see moments of a future that right now stood only as a tempting mirage. Images of shared secrets and jokes under the covers on a lazy Sunday morning, or tickling as he chased her through the halls of a museum where they should behave. The tantalizing image of what a real life could be with her beyond the shop, beyond the epic sex he knew they could have, rocked him—and hardened his resolve to keep trying.

  Without meaning to or thinking about it, his gruff hands cradled her face, thumbs tracing her full bottom lip as her laughter stilled. Her tongue darted out and grazed his thumb. His emotions were all over the place. He’d gone from intense need to professional distance and back to need again. If he was being honest, when he was with her the need always hovered just under the surface of all their interactions.