Rose (Thorn Tattoo Studio Book 1)

by Leslie North

  The only thing that was better was when he’d stretched and filled her, rutting his hips to drive her into an urgent, incredible orgasm.

  “Riley?”

  Riley blinked and jolted back to reality. Everyone was staring at her, waiting for her to respond to a question she hadn’t heard.

  “Um, what?”

  Giovanni shook his head, eyes rolled skyward. “Come here.”

  Riley had no idea what was going on, but she climbed to her feet and approached the front desk to stand beside Giovanni.

  “So,” Giovanni said once she’d arrived, “When we’re talking design, we have to consider placement first and foremost. If your client comes in wanting a tattoo on a specific part of their body, you have to be mindful of the curves of the body.”

  Riley knit her brows together slightly and looked him over. What was she supposed to be doing?

  She didn’t have to wait for long to find out.

  “So let’s imagine that Riley’s walking in off the street, and she wants a tattoo on her hip.” Giovanni pulled her toward him and lifted the hem of her T-shirt to expose her skin. The sudden exposure to air chilled her, and Riley shivered. When Giovanni ran his fingers delicately across her bare flesh, the shiver grew uncontrollable. Some of the guys snickered, and Riley’s cheeks burned. The memories from last night were still too fresh, and her body craved him no matter how adamantly her mind ordered it not to. She needed his touch, and feeling his fingers brush against her so gently began to reawaken the heedless woman she had been last night.

  The way Giovanni’s lips curled into a smug grin made her think that he knew exactly what he was doing.

  “An area like this isn’t going to take straight lines well. If your client is looking for a geometric design, it’s simply not going to look good. You can run as much line correction as you want, but as the body moves and shifts, it’s going to show. An area like the hip is better suited to flowing designs. Knowing where to put certain tattoos is essential to creating a final product your client will be proud of.”

  Giovanni’s fingers ran down her hip and along the waistline of Riley’s jeans. He was flirting with her in front of everyone, shamelessly. Did the guys in the shop know what Giovanni had done to her last night? Would they figure it out now? The burn crept along Riley’s cheeks and made its way down her neck.

  “Sometimes, you’ll need to work with your client to get them to re-imagine their idea or convince them to relocate it. With something more geometric, you’re looking to use the flatter planes of the body.” Giovanni’s hand ran up her back, fingers ghosting along her shirt. Riley bit down on the inside of her lip and tried her hardest not to close her eyes. Her sex throbbed, and slick heat worked its way between her legs. “The back, to either side of the spine, is prime canvas. On slender models, the backs of the calves are often usable. Thighs are always prime canvas.”

  From the planes of her back, Giovanni’s fingers worked their way down her side and to her thigh. His free hand pushed her back so that she sat on the desk, exposing her thigh to him. Giovanni’s fingers traced lazy patterns, sending sparks straight to her core.

  “Once you’ve established your location and your requested design, you can start putting together a sketch. And from there…” Giovanni went on, explaining inking techniques for colored tattoos, but Riley couldn’t focus on anything he said. Sentences fragmented and melded one into the other. His touch was her sole anchor to the world.

  Giovanni’s hand parted from her thigh far too soon, and he helped her off the desk. The guys were climbing to their feet, stiff and sore from a long day at work. Had an hour really passed? It only felt like seconds.

  “Sounded pretty thorough,” Mal said with a yawn. “Looking forward to getting the hell home, though.”

  “What did you think, Riley?” Ben asked. He grinned. “Learned lots? As a total tattoo virgin, it probably opened your eyes, right? It’s not easy to do what we do.”

  “What Gio, Jaime, and I do,” Mal shot back. Ben rolled his eyes.

  “Oh.” Riley took a deep breath. Sometimes she forgot that none of the people she worked with knew her background. Finances were her specialty, and she’d studied long and hard to make sure she knew her way around a business, but she was more adept in the world of tattooing than any of them knew. “Yeah. It was great. I’m pretty sure even I could tattoo you after a workshop like that.”

  It was meant to be a casual reply, but as Riley regained her wits, she realized that what she said had struck a nerve. The shop fell silent. All of the guys looked at her, and then exchanged sly glances. Giovanni was the first to break the silence. One brow arched, a humorous, challenging grin on his face, he scoffed. “You think you could tattoo?”

  “Um. Yeah.” Riley bit down on her bottom lip, nervous. She hadn’t planned it to become a serious topic of conversation, and it was starting to make her feel a little uncomfortable. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I could.”

  “Who’s got their shop still set up?” Giovanni asked, voice booming through the front of the shop. There was a glint of mischief in his eyes mirrored by all the other artists. “I’m willing to sacrifice some of my skin for this experiment.”

  Riley’s mouth hung open, and she looked between them desperately as they all sprang into action. None of them could be serious, could they? As far as they knew, Riley had never even touched a tattoo machine before. Who in his right mind would trust someone to tattoo who had no formal training in it?

  The four of them were impulsive and looking for a laugh, and she knew she was going to be the butt of the joke. Giovanni likely figured she’d chicken out before the needle even touched his skin.

  “My shop’s up,” Mal said. “Let’s lock and load and get this underway.”

  “What happened to going home?” Riley asked hesitantly. Ben spun her around and started to push her toward the tattoo bay. “All you guys were tired not even a minute ago. Why don’t we just call it a day and—”

  “Nope.” Giovanni laughed. “You seemed pretty damn confident you could tattoo from that presentation alone, so I wanna see what you’ve got. I’m sure the boys are just as curious.”

  “If Giovanni’s looking to cough up some real estate, we want to see how you handle a machine,” Mal said with a grin. “We don’t have enough laughs around here. It’ll be a great bonding experience and something we can all remember.”

  She stumbled forward and into Mal’s room, pushed the entire way. Everyone else crowded into the room and worked to get her supplies ready. Needles. Inks. Tattoo machines. Markers.

  Riley couldn’t believe what was happening. She shot a pleading look to Giovanni as Ben steered her toward the inking stool and sat her down, but he was too wrapped up in pouring ink into tiny plastic caps to notice.

  It looked like she was going to have to roll with the punches.

  As Mal and Giovanni calibrated the tattoo gun, Riley stretched out her back until it popped and then cracked her knuckles. If they were going to press the joke beyond what she was comfortable with, then she had no choice but to shut them down. Walking away would kill her rapport with the artists and Ben, so that was out of the question, but Riley refused to pretend she was something she wasn’t for the sake of fading into the background. They were expecting her to fail miserably, but she was going to surprise them. There was no way out of it.

  “What do you want and where?” Riley asked Giovanni, mentally preparing herself for the task at hand. It had been a long time since she’d picked up a tattoo machine, but she was sure she’d remember how to use it quickly enough.

  Giovanni shrugged, and then looked over his shoulder at her, eyes glinting with meaning. “I want a queen of hearts playing card, miniature in size. The only skin I have is on my upper thigh. You’ll have to work with the space I’ve got left.”

  A queen of hearts playing card. Riley’s pulse picked up and her cheeks burned brighter yet. She understood his meaning immediately. Last night at the poker table, the hotel
room, the bedroom….

  “You’re going to have to drop your pants, then,” she said abruptly, hoping the thought of getting naked would dissuade him.

  It didn’t.

  “Yup.” Giovanni smirked. He shrugged off his suit jacket and hung it on the hook by the swinging doors. Next, his hands dropped to the button of his pants and popped it open. Mal, Jaime, and Ben hooted with laughter as he dropped his fly and shimmied his pants down to his knees. Then he hopped onto the client’s chair and got comfortable.

  Riley’s heart hammered, and she crossed her arms trying to look irritated to mask how vulnerable she was. Giovanni wasn’t hard beneath his boxer-briefs, but his cock was big enough that he had nothing to be ashamed about even when flaccid. Riley’s knees trembled, and she was glad she was seated. If she was standing, she knew she would have staggered.

  Legs spread on the chair, Giovanni traced an area of bare skin on his thigh, right near his crotch. Ben, Jaime, and Mal were almost doubled over with laughter at this point, and Riley didn’t think she’d ever stop blushing again.

  “So I’m thinking I want it right here,” Giovanni said. “Why don’t you freehand something before we get to inking? I’m dying to see what you can do.”

  Mal pushed a marker into her hand, and Riley swallowed hard. This was it. She uncapped the pen, pulled herself together, and set the tip to Giovanni’s thigh. Mal and Jaime crowded over her shoulders, watching, and Ben stood behind Giovanni to supervise from afar.

  It looked like Giovanni was having a hard time holding back his laughter, but Riley refused to let it get to her. She made the first line crisp and clean, and then followed it up with a second. Her hand didn’t waver, and she followed the design in her mind’s eye carefully. In such a tight space, she wouldn’t be able to get much detail into the freehand sketch, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was how well she tattooed.

  When the sketch was finished, she set the pen aside and reached for a pair of gloves. No one was laughing anymore. As Riley snapped the gloves onto her hands, Mal and Jaime leaned closer to look, and even Giovanni contorted himself to look at what she’d done.

  “Looks like our new shop manager’s got some secret artistic talent,” Mal said. “The question remains—can she follow that up with a solid tat?”

  “Why don’t you give it a try?” Giovanni said. He locked gazes with her for a second, no longer impish, but curious. “I want to see what you can do.”

  Riley nodded, and everyone sat back to watch her work. She shaved the area with one of Mal’s disposable razors, and then wiped it down with an alcohol solution to sterilize it. Once Giovanni’s body was ready, she dipped the needles into the black ink and lowered the machine near his thigh.

  “Ready?” Riley asked.

  “Ready,” Giovanni said. There was guarded surprise in his voice, and she couldn’t help but smile. All of them had gone from goofy high school boys looking to prank the outcast to stunned professionals eager to see what she had in her.

  Riley started the machine and made her first lines.

  Giovanni was a great client. He didn’t squirm, move, or complain. From time to time, she saw him wince, but he never voiced his pain.

  The bay was silent save for the buzz of the tattoo machine in her hand. It had been way, way too long since Riley had last done this but once the vibration of the machine set into her body, it felt like yesterday.

  When the outline was completed, Riley started on color. The reds were difficult to saturate, but she packed them in and made sure they were vibrant. As she worked, Mal supplied her with some of the things she was missing—clean towels for wiping Giovanni’s leg, water in a squirt bottle, changes of gloves, and even a hair tie to keep her long hair out of her face. It looked like none of them had expected her to go for it, let alone be proficient at what she did.

  A little under an hour later, Riley wheeled back and set the machine down. The tattoo was finished, and when she looked at it from afar, she knew it was quality work. The line work was even, the colors were rich, and the design flowed. Giovanni’s thigh now proudly sported a queen of hearts pin up girl, lounging in a seductive pose within the constraints of her card.

  “Holy shit,” Mal breathed. When Riley moved away, he swept in and squatted down to get a good look. “Holy fucking shit! Do you guys see what I’m seeing?”

  “It’s fucking sick,” Jaime replied. He crowded in next to Mal, then looked back to squint at Riley. Riley smiled at him. “You’ve been an artist this whole time? When the hell were you going to tell the rest of us? This is incredible.”

  “Thanks.” Riley smiled. It felt good to tattoo again, and she was glad that she’d had the chance to do it, even if it had dipped a little more deeply into her past than she would have liked. “I don’t really tattoo anymore.”

  “That’s stupid. With work like this, you need to be tattooing all the time,” Ben said. He let the established artists crowd around first before he got a look. “Gio, dude, what do you think? Isn’t this incredible?”

  Giovanni’s gaze darted to Riley, and Riley felt the intensity of his attention tingle along her spine. When he spoke, he spoke directly to her. “I think it’s fantastic work. I’m surprised that someone so talented would hide a gift like this. It’s obviously not beginner work.”

  Blushing, Riley looked down and shrugged. “Guess your workshop really did teach me all I needed to know.” Giovanni’s eyes flashed, and she knew he wanted to say something more, but he didn’t challenge her. “Let’s hope it’s as well received tomorrow.”

  “Alright, let’s get this shit cleaned up. I’ll wrap up Gio’s tattoo.” Mal broke up the conversation and moved things along. “We all want to get home sometime before sunrise.”

  Giovanni’s gaze wouldn’t leave her, though, and Riley spent the rest of the time tidying up Mal’s workspace flushed and slick between her legs as he stared right through her, as though doing so would help him unravel the mysteries of her past.

  15

  Giovanni

  “Purple is a terrible color for a tattoo.”

  “Not for this tattoo.”

  “It doesn’t match most skin colors well and isn’t complementary to—”

  “It’s giving me the contrast I need and the color theory is on point. I know what I’m doing, Gio. You don’t have to lean over my shoulder. I know that it’s hard for you to accept, but as you know, this isn’t my first tattoo.” Riley sat straight up on her stool, cutting the power to the buzzing machine in her hand. She glared at him. Giovanni suppressed a wry grin and took an innocent step backward, shrugging.

  “Just saying it like it is.”

  “And I’m saying it like it is, too. Purple is a great color, isn’t it, Mitch?”

  “Only bad asses wear purple,” Mitch, Riley’s client, replied with a one-shouldered shrug. “Riley’s got a sick eye, man. I trust her judgment completely.”

  “You obviously haven’t met her before she’s had any coffee,” Giovanni replied, grinning broadly.

  Riley rolled her eyes and shook her head. “If you’re done criticizing my every move, I’d appreciate you go bother someone else while I finish up with Mitch. He’s almost done, and he’d like to move on with his life without feeling insecure about himself.”

  “You tell him, R. Gio’s a bastard, isn’t he?” Mal’s voice rose over the partition, lending her his support. Giovanni hitched a brow and allowed a content smirk to spread his lips. After several weeks at Thorn Tattoo, Riley was finally starting to blend in with the rest of the guys. Ever since she’d tattooed the queen of hearts on his thigh, the atmosphere in the shop had changed. Riley had gone from the hot outsider who didn’t have a head for art or an investment in the creative success of the business to someone who the artists saw as their equal. Their ally.

  Giovanni hated to admit it, but he felt similarly.

  To discover Riley’s prowess altered the way he thought about her and answered questions he’d long harbored. Riley had co
me all the way to work for low pay in a shop in Las Vegas because she was passionate about art and tattooing. No one with the technical skills Riley had wasn’t in love with what they did. Somewhere along the way, she’d excelled at all the fundamentals of inking and then moved on to conquer several master techniques. Some of the tricks she pulled to show contrast and color were exemplary, and Giovanni himself hadn’t seen some of them employed before.

  Riley was a powerhouse with a needle, and he wished he would have known it sooner.

  Immediately after finding out about her gift, he’d reworked the schedule so that she could handle walk-ins on a rotational basis with him. Sometimes, especially with women coming in off the street, they preferred female artists. Giovanni had been trying to hire a woman to take over for The News, but after Hailee had turned down his job offer in order to travel to New York City, he’d been struggling to find a candidate.

  Riley was the perfect choice.

  Not only was she equally as skilled—if not more skilled—than Mal and Jaime, but she was already on Antonio’s payroll. Getting her to work on paid pieces made perfect sense, and the more Giovanni thought about it, the more he realized that she was the perfect solution to their problems.

  Proficient at managing, good with numbers and figures, meticulous enough to stay on top of orders, and talented enough to tattoo when she needed to, Riley was the employee Thorn Tattoo needed. During quiet introspection, Giovanni realized that if he left her in charge and walked away, the figures would almost balance, and they’d be back on track again.

  The only problem was he wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to do it.

  “Just make sure you hit the highlights with some white to really make them pop and you’ve got it,” he offered in parting before slipping out through the doors of the tattoo bay. These days, while Riley stayed in the shop and took care of customers and The News’ appointments, Giovanni did workshops. Preparing one took some effort, and as fantastic as it made him feel to teach others techniques and improve the quality of tattooing all around, he wasn’t sure if it was something he wanted to keep doing.