by Burke, Dez
“So this is where you work your magic?” she asks.
“I do the tattoos in the back. I try to keep things as sterile as possible, so only clients are allowed in that room. I do the consultations in here and the design work.”
I run my hand down her arm, amazed at how soft her skin always feels underneath my fingers. I can’t stop touching her. She smells good, and it makes me want to bury my face in the soft place in her neck.
“Maybe I can talk you into letting me give you a tattoo one day.”
She shakes her head and laughs.
“I don’t think so. The permanent nature of a tattoo worries me. I might get bored with having the same tattoo on my body for the rest of my life. Besides, I like to change my look occasionally.”
I bet you do.
Like every time you go undercover. Thank you for reminding me.
“Is that so? I would love to see your other looks. Do you have any photos? Did you wear your hair different?”
“Not too much,” she answers. “Sometimes I change the color, that’s all. I’ll show you some old photos another time.”
I reach over and finger her hair. “I like you the way you look now. Don’t change anytime soon, okay?”
“I’ll agree to that,” she says. “But only for now.”
She checks the time on her cell phone and holds up the food bag.
“I’m taking up too much of your time. I wasn’t sure what you liked so I bought three different sandwiches. I like them all, so you pick first.”
If she’s playing me, it’s working. Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it along the way.
“Sounds great. I have some paper plates in the back. I’ll go get them.”
After rummaging around in my back room for plates and grabbing a couple of soft drinks from the refrigerator, I walk back into the front office.
“Here we go,” I say. “Let’s eat.”
Lila is bent down on the floor near the front desk. She stands up and touches her ear with both hands.
“I dropped the back of my earring on the floor,” she explains. “I was afraid I’d lost it. It fell under your desk so I had to crawl on my hands and knees to reach it.”
Something in her voice sounds off. Why is she crawling around on the floor when she could’ve waited two minutes for me to come back and help her look?
“You should have waited on me to get it for you,” I say. “I hope you didn’t mess up your pretty white dress.”
She holds out the palms of her hands, now covered in dust.
“You’re right, and you should sweep in here more often,” she says. “I need to wash my hands. Can I borrow your restroom?”
I tilt my head to the hallway.
“First door on the left.”
The second she steps inside the restroom and shuts the door, I drop down on the floor to search under my desk. I don’t even know what I’m looking for.
And then I see it.
Son of a bitch.
A tiny object no bigger than a watch battery stuck on the underside of my desk.
Lila planted a bug.
I’m stunned, though I shouldn’t be. The only reason she dropped by in her pretty dress was to gain access to the tattoo shop. She obviously isn’t above pulling out all of her underhanded tricks to keep me sidetracked long enough to place surveillance equipment.
Everything she does is a scam.
Wearing a feminine dress and bringing me lunch. Spraying sweet perfume behind her ears and smiling at me like she really means it.
I’m an idiot for buying into her act. Damn! She’s too good at her job.
To say I’m furious is the understatement of the century.
I wonder if the bug is already switched on and recording. For all I know, there could be an unmarked white van down the street with ATF agents listening in on our conversation right now.
I hope they are because I’m about to give them something to burn their fucking ears off. Maybe I’ll even get her fired. Screwing the person you’re supposed to be investigating can’t be considered professional conduct, even in her line of work.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. If I don’t calm down, I’ll blow this shit sky high right now. And then we’ll all be screwed. The MC is depending on me not to fuck up.
Keep it together, Sam.
There’s never been a woman that I couldn’t wrap around my cock anytime I wanted. All I have to do is stay calm and not let her see that something is wrong. If she wants to play dirty, then so can I.
Low-down-filthy dirty.
Walking over to the front door, I lock it and flip the sign over to say ‘closed.’ Then I calmly take the sandwiches out of the bag, remove the plastic wrap, and place them on the plates all nice and neat.
“There you are, pretty lady,” I say when she walks back into the room. “I assume the ‘all veggie, no meat sandwich’ is for you?”
She smiles at me. I want her to mean it and instead I feel sick inside.
“How did you guess?” she asks. “But only if you don’t want it.”
“No, I definitely don’t want it, sweetheart.”
I place my hands on both sides of her waist and lift her up to sit her on the edge of my desk. Sliding my hands up her thighs, I drag the dress up with them.
“You know what I really want?” I say, speaking loud and clear so that whoever might be listening in on the bug can hear everything. “I want you. Here. Right now. Spread wide on my desk so I can eat your pussy nice and slow. You would like that too, wouldn’t you, Lila? My tongue deep in your pussy.” I lean down slightly to make sure my voice is picked up by the bug. “Just like we did last night.”
I hook my fingers underneath the edge of her lacy white panties and start pulling them down.
“Sam! What the hell are you doing?” she says. She pushes my hands away and tries to shove me backwards.
“Don’t tell me you don’t want it, Lila. You were begging for me last night.”
She stares at me in shock.
“What are you talking about? Nothing happened. You were drunk!”
“So were you,” I argue back. “We both were wasted after drinking hooch all night.”
“No, I wasn’t, you idiot.”
“That’s not the way I remember it. If we didn’t fuck last night, then how did I end up naked in your bed this morning? Are you going to tell me I imagined that too?”
Lila’s eyes are getting bigger by the second.
“You’re insane, and I don’t understand where this is all coming from. I came by to bring you lunch. Then you start talking dirty and...this is getting way too weird for me.”
She looks up at me with a hurt, puzzled look.
Damn! Now why is she looking at me like that?
She’s the one screwing me over, not the other way around.
This is so fucked up.
She suddenly slides off the desk and stands up. “This is a mistake,” she says, straightening her dress. “I need to go.”
Of course she needs to go. She can’t have her fellow ATF agents hear her being screwed over a desk.
“What’s the hurry?” I call after her as she walks toward the door. “We were just getting started.”
She turns around and gives me a long look.
“Did something happen when I was in the bathroom? You’re different. Hard and cold.”
“And here I thought I was turning you on.”
“If you think that, you’ve got the wrong girl. I can’t do this. Enjoy the lunch. I’ve obviously given you the wrong impression. My mistake. I won’t be dropping by again.”
Oh shit! Now I’ve really screwed up.
She’s bailing out already? This isn’t part of the plan. Damn it! I went too far.
“Lila, wait!” I say, touching her arm. “I didn’t mean to sound crude. My dirty mouth gets me into trouble sometimes. I blurt out words before I think about how they might sound. And I thought, okay, maybe I was hoping, that we did indeed fuck last
night. But if you say that we didn’t, I believe you and I owe you an apology.”
I’m not sure if she believes what I’m saying. She crosses her arms and glares at me.
“So you didn’t mean what you just said about wanting to eat my pussy on the desk?”
My mouth drops open.
Did she really say those words?
Damn! That sounds hot coming out of her mouth.
My cock goes rock hard in my jeans. Even now I want her so fucking bad.
I hate her and I want her.
All at the same time.
Or maybe I want to hate her.
This is a confusing situation.
No matter what, I can’t let her walk out of here. I need more time.
For some strange reason, I need Lila to be on my side.
“Do you want an honest answer to your question?” I ask. “Yes, I meant what I said. I’m a man, and you waltz in here smelling good and looking pretty in your white sundress. And the thought went through my head that I want to do things to you. Right here in my shop. Or tonight or tomorrow. Honestly, anytime that you’ll let me. I’m sorry for sounding like an asshole. I’m not sorry for wanting you. So sorry, not sorry.”
She’s listening and hasn’t told me to ‘go to hell’ yet, which is a good sign.
“I’ll promise to watch my filthy mouth from now on. You can start a swear jar and every time you catch me saying an inappropriate dirty comment, I’ll put a dollar in it. I’ll probably go broke, but if it keeps me out of trouble with you, it'll be worth it.”
I see a smile starting around her lips.
She sighs. “Sam, it’s not what you said, it’s how you said it. You caught me off guard and it made me feel...cheap and dirty. Like I’m one of the girls that hang around bikers looking for sexual handouts from anyone. Plus you were completely off base about last night. Nothing happened.”
She’s acting like I hurt her feelings.
Wait? What? How does that make sense?
I don’t understand women.
“Lila.”
I’m pulling her to me and kissing her before I think about it. The instant our lips touch, my mind goes blank and all I can do is feel. I’m lost in her smell and the feel of her ass beneath my hands. I tell myself I’m kissing her to protect the MC. Deep down, I know I’m kissing her only for me.
My cock swells, throbbing with need against my jeans. I want nothing more than to shove her dress up around her waist and bury my face between her legs. Everything I said to her five minutes ago I desperately want to do now.
I’m sure as hell not going to say one word about it though. This time I’m keeping my damn mouth shut.
Lila immediately responds just like I hoped she would, tangling her fingers in my hair and leaning closer. She can’t stop this madness between us any more than I can.
We’re doomed.
This is going to end with both of us going down in flames. I can see it coming from a mile away and can’t do one damn thing to stop it.
Even worse, I don’t want to stop it.
“Sam?” she finally whispers against my lips when we break apart for air.
“Hmmm,” I answer, moving her hair aside and kissing her neck.
“Are we still on for dinner tomorrow night?”
“Damn straight. If you still want me.”
“I want you,” she says softly.
I bury my nose in her hair and breathe in her scent.
I’m getting in so deep.
Chapter Nine
Lila
I drive away from the Inked Dragon then double back around on side streets to an empty abandoned building with a clear view of the shop. The ATF rented the location for a month to give me a place to observe the customers entering the front door.
The back entrance of the Inked Dragon is being watched by a surveillance camera that I placed two weeks ago on a utility pole in the alley. Every few days, I’m supposed to pull the tapes and go through them. I haven’t looked at them yet. There’s no telling what I’ll see. I’m almost afraid to imagine.
The empty building where I’m set up is old, hot, and musty. As soon as I unlock the door and step inside, I head up to the second floor bathroom and change into shorts and a t-shirt. Surveillance work for the most part is tiring and mind-numbing dull. Wearing comfortable clothes will make it a tiny bit more bearable.
At least I’m working alone. Trying to keep a conversation going with another agent for hours takes too much effort and energy.
After positioning an office chair near the window, I pull a pair of high-powered binoculars out of my bag and try to get comfortable.
It’s going to be a long day.
The visit with Sam threw me off balance. One minute he was adorable Sam and the next he turned into a man I didn’t recognize. Or maybe it is my fault for not recognizing him before as a sex-crazed maniac.
Something felt off after I came back from the restroom.
He seemed almost mad at me for some reason, and his crude language shocked me since it came out of nowhere. Under the right circumstances, I’m sure I would feel differently, but today it simply wasn’t appropriate. At least he smoothed things over quickly, obviously feeling bad for messing up.
Truth is I was the one who screwed up and almost turned the investigation upside down. My personal feelings got in the way, and I was close to stomping out of there in an angry huff.
If Sam hadn’t kissed me, I don’t know how things would have ended between us.
I’m not ready for things to end yet.
Things will end at some point, and I’ll be leaving town. Getting attached to Sam would be bad for me. Nothing good can come from it. My personal feelings about anything happening here has to stay out of the equation. It’s not my job to question, judge, or even try to protect the people I’m investigating. If laws are being broken, then it’s my job to gather evidence.
Period.
End of story.
Keeping my personal feelings under wraps has never been an issue before.
I’m a professional and I need to remember that.
I stand up when I see a woman with her head wrapped up in a bright red scarf walking down the sidewalk in front of the shop. Holding the binoculars to my eyes, I focus on her face. She’s pale and appears frail.
Could she be a cancer patient?
I put the binoculars down and watch as she walks into the shop. This can’t be good. What could a cancer patient be doing going into a tattoo shop? Buying drugs is the only answer. Probably marijuana.
At least I hope that’s all it is.
She might need marijuana to fight the nausea from the chemotherapy treatments. And where would a cancer patient go first in this town to look for weed?
To Sam, of course. The same place they would go for everything else illegal they might want.
I sit back and rub my tired eyes.
He’s digging a hole for himself that is only going to be harder and harder to crawl out of. Illegal cigarettes, alcohol, guns, and now marijuana added to the list.
I feel like grabbing him by the neck and shaking some sense into him. The Steel Infidels are involved in too much shit, and Sam’s head will be the first one on the chopping block when this all goes down.
He has a good business going with the tattoo shop and would be fine if that’s all he did. I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around why the Steel Infidels are risking everything. The profit from their businesses must be tremendous if they’re willing to go to prison. They all lead simple lives and never make big purchases, so I’m clueless.
The woman stays inside the shop for a full hour before leaving. I watch through the binoculars as Sam walks her to the door and waves goodbye. She steps outside on the sidewalk and takes three steps before turning around and going back. He’s still standing in the doorway and she reaches up to hug his neck.
No, that’s not weird at all.
Customers always hug their drug dealers.
What in the world is going on with him?
I’m mystified.
There’s too much about Sam that I don’t know.
Chapter Ten
Sam
I’m pacing back and forth in the shop, still fuming over Lila placing the bug, when a potential customer walks in.
I walk over to greet her. “Hazel, you’re back.”
She nods and tries to smile. Taking a deep breath, she says, “I’m ready to talk about it. For real this time.”
“Great. Come on back to the private room.”
Hazel follows me back to the room where I do the tattoos. She looks a little stronger than the last time I saw her. Still pale, but she’s put on a few pounds, which is good. A red scarf hides the fact that all of her hair has fallen out due to chemotherapy.
I point to a chair and she sits down.
“Are you still doing chemo?” I ask.
“No, I’m done. For good I hope.”
“I hope so too.”
She’s uncomfortable. I don’t blame her since I know how hard this is on the women.
“Okay, first off, you’re going to have to show me,” I say. “And then I’ll tell you what your options are.”
Hazel reaches up to undo the top button of her shirt and stops. Her eyes fill with tears.
“It will be alright,” I say, trying to cheer her up. “Look, I’ve seen plenty of boobs before in my life. Hundreds of boobs. Maybe thousands.”
“I’m sure you have,” she says and tries to laugh. “Not like mine, I bet.”
“My mom had breast cancer too. Believe me, I’ve seen it all.”
I stand up and pull out a cabinet drawer. Picking up a stack of ‘before and after’ tattoo photos, I hand them to her.
She flips through them and her whole attitude brightens up. “You did all these?” she asks.
“And many more.”
She takes a shaky breath. “Okay, I’ll show you.” She unbuttons her shirt and unhooks the front clasp of her bra then pulls it open wide.
Damn.
A double mastectomy that took both nipples. Her chest is a mangled mess of jagged scars. I make a conscious effort to not show what I’m thinking. These poor women get enough horrified looks without me adding to it.