by Burke, Dez
“You’re up early,” he says, kissing my cheek. “Working hard on a story already?”
“Yes, but I’m almost finished with this paragraph,” I answer. “Then I’ll cook your breakfast.”
“Breakfast?” he says in surprise. “I didn’t know you were running a bed and breakfast.”
“I’m making an exception today,” I say.
He glances at the screen to see what I’m writing about, an article on Southern home remedies that I copied from the Internet and pasted into a word processing document.
“Do you need any help with that?” he teases.
“No, please. I’m begging you. No more help from you.”
He wraps my hair up in his hand and nuzzles the side of my neck. I smile and close my eyes as he nibbles his way across my collarbone. Slipping his hands under the thin strap of my shirt, he slides it halfway down my arm and follows the strap with his tongue.
A delicious way to start the day.
I turn around in the chair and pull his head closer.
“Good morning to you too, stranger,” I say before reaching up to kiss him slowly on the lips. “Maybe I should leave my door unlocked if hot men like you are going to come wandering into my kitchen looking for a cup of coffee.”
“Don’t you dare,” he says. “Not unless you want me to beat somebody’s ass. I don’t share.”
“Jealous?” I say.
“Insanely jealous. The thought of another man’s hands on you makes me crazy.”
I arch my eyebrows at him.
“And how do you think I feel knowing the Sweet Butts at your clubhouse are crawling all over you? Don’t think for a minute that I’m too stupid to know what goes on there.”
“If you want to be my girl, all you have to do is say so.”
“Your girl?” I say with an indignant look. “I’m not sixteen.”
He slides his hands down and cups my breasts, rubbing the nipples through the shirt with his thumbs.
“Want to be my girl?”
Yes.
“I don’t want to be anyone’s property,” I say. “That’s not my thing. I belong to no man.”
“Okay then,” he says. “Just remember that I offered and you turned me down. In case you change your mind, I’ll keep asking you. I’m persistent and don’t give up easily.”
“Yeah, I know. What time do you need to be at work?”
“Same time as always. I have a long tattoo job this morning.”
“Sit down and I’ll pour you a cup of coffee. The biscuits are almost done and it will only take me a minute to cook the sausage gravy.”
The expression on his face was worth getting up early for.
He’s surprised and pleased.
“Let me get this straight,” he says. “You crawled out of a warm bed to cook breakfast for me? I distinctively remember you saying that you were never going to do that. As in never ever. You stood right here in this kitchen and said ‘Sam, if you think I’m going to get up and cook you breakfast...’”
He wags his finger at me and mimics my voice, causing me to laugh.
“Yeah, I know what I said.” I shrug. “Never was probably a bad choice for a word.” I reach up and run my fingers through his mussed-up hair. “I can’t send you off to work without breakfast.”
“I’m beginning to wonder what other skills you have that I don’t know about,” he says, suddenly serious.
I kiss him softly on the lips and stand up.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Chapter Nineteen
Sam
The last two weeks have rushed by in a blur. Every day, I rush to finish work early so I can be with Lila. Usually we grill out at her house or take long drives on my bike. At night, she falls asleep with her head snuggled on my chest while I lie awake for hours worrying about what the next day might bring.
Any minute now, I could lose her forever.
It’s on my mind all the time.
The month is almost over, which means our time is winding down fast.
Tonight we’re sitting out on Lila’s back deck overlooking the lake where it’s peaceful and quiet. She likes to sit outside at dusk every night to watch the lightning bugs when they first start flickering in the dark. I love seeing her face light up when they first appear.
“Do you want another glass of lemonade?” she asks, pointing to my empty glass.
“I’ll get it,” I tell her. “You sit still.”
I stand up and out of habit reach for my cell phone in my back pocket. It’s not there, and I realize I left it back at the shop. One rule of the MC is that we have to be able to be reached at all times in case we’re needed. In my hurry to be with Lila, I forgot it.
“I left my phone back at the shop. Do you want to take a ride with me to go pick it up? It won’t take but a few minutes.”
She swings her long legs over the side of her lounge chair and stands up. “Sure. It’s a nice night for a ride anyway.”
After locking up the house, I hand her a helmet, which she buckles on as if she’s been doing it all her life.
“Did you ever ride motorcycles before you met me?” I ask. She knows her way around a bike more than most women.
“Ride motorcycles as in ride behind someone else?” she asks. “No, I drove motorcycles.”
“What? You can ride a bike? Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
She slides on behind me and wraps her arms around my waist.
“What difference would it make?” she says. “Would you have ridden behind me and let me drive?”
I run my hand along her thigh. Damn, how I love her long, smooth legs.
“Uh...no, darling,” I say. “Sorry, that is not happening.”
“And that’s why I didn’t say anything.”
Trying to discover the truth about Lila is like peeling an onion. The more layers I peel away, the more I find.
And the more I want to find.
I want to know all of her deepest, darkest secrets.
No, I want to be her darkest secret, because she’s sure as hell mine.
***
I flick on the overhead lights in the tattoo shop and walk across the room to grab my cell phone. Lila follows behind me and sits down in my office chair. Several of my latest tattoo designs are scattered all over the desk. Most are only half-finished doodles since inspiration strikes me in spurts, sometimes even in the middle of the night.
She picks up the tattoo design I’m working on for Hazel and holds it up.
“This is amazing,” she says. “Who is this for? I didn’t realize your tattoos are this elaborate.”
“That tattoo is a special design for a customer who had a double mastectomy. She doesn’t have insurance to pay for reconstruction, and her doctor butchered her up pretty bad. My mom died from breast cancer, so I try to do my best to make the ladies feel pretty again. I get quite a few of them in here.”
Lila glances over at me with a stunned look on her face.
I cock my eyebrows at her. “I bet you thought I only did skull-and-crossbones type of tattoos, didn’t you? Most of my clients are women. Jesse does the typical badass tattoos for the men. Between the two of us, this place stays busy.”
“What other kinds of tattoos do you design for women?” she asks.
There’s a tone in her voice I haven’t heard before.
Jealousy?
“I’m known for doing tattoos in private places,” I say with a shrug. I don’t want her to freak out on me. “You know...inner thighs, ass, boobs.”
She does not look happy with my answer. At all.
I’m surprised she didn’t know this already from her research on me. Maybe she doesn’t know as much about me as I think she does.
She chews on her bottom lip. “So let me get this straight. Women come in here and strip off for you to do tattoos in intimate places? How far up on the inner thigh do you go?”
“As far as they want me to go.”
Oh yeah, she’s n
ot liking this one little bit. I’m enjoying watching her squirm.
“Do they ever come on to you while you’re doing the tattoos?”
“All the time,” I answer honestly. “It’s a terrible hazard of the job.”
“I bet. And do you take them up on their offers?”
She’s actually worried about this.
I reach out and tug her closer to me.
“Not since you came to town. I’m not even tempted. Not as long as I have you.”
She tucks her head into my chest and whispers, “Will you do a tattoo for me?”
I’m shocked and thrilled. I wrap my arms around her tighter.
“Of course. I would love to. I thought you said the permanent nature of tattoos wasn’t for you.”
“Maybe I changed my mind.”
Is she serious?
“I can do one right now,” I offer.
I’ve been designing the perfect tattoo for her in my mind for days.
She smiles and tries to pull out of my arms. “But I don’t know what I want yet. I would need to think about it first. Show me a few of your designs to get me started.”
“Let me do a special tattoo for you.” I hold onto her so she can’t pull away. “Trust me.”
My heart pounds in my chest while waiting for her answer. If she trusts me enough to do this, it means I’m not imagining what we have together. I can’t believe she’s even considering it.
Come on, Lila. Say yes.
“Where would you put the tattoo?” she asks.
I don’t need to think twice about it. “On your gorgeous ass, of course. No one else will see it except me. Can you trust me enough to do this?”
Chapter Twenty
Lila
Trust Sam enough to give me a tattoo on my ass?
Knowing what a devil he is, this might be a very bad decision. Then again, I need to know where his head is at.
“I trust you,” I say after a moment. “Will it hurt?”
Sam slides his hands down my hip and cups my ass.
“I’m not going to lie. It will hurt. I’ll work fast and try to be as gentle as I can. Are you sure about this? I don’t want to pressure you.”
I nod. I’ve never considered getting a tattoo before in my life, and I don’t know why I suddenly want one now. All I know is that I do.
But only from Sam.
When he explained to me about the mastectomy tattoos, I was floored. I’ve never heard of those before, and the fact that he is willing to do them makes me so proud. Once again he’s proven me wrong about him. Sam may be breaking the law, but he’s a good decent person in many other ways that count.
“Can you draw it out first so I can see what you’re going to do?” I ask. “Or at least give me a hint. Is it a flower or a butterfly? Tell me.”
“It’s a surprise. You’ll have to wait and see. Now try to get comfortable and turn around so I can see your beautiful ass.”
“Are the doors locked?” I ask. “What if Jesse drops by?”
Sam walks over and shuts the door to the room.
“You’re going to need to take off your shorts and panties,” he says. “It will give me more room to work.”
“I bet that’s what you say to all the girls.”
The thought of Sam being locked up in this tiny room with a naked girl makes me cringe. I can only imagine how often they throw themselves at him. He’s basically sizzling hot sex on a stick, and I can’t be the only one irresistibly drawn to him.
“No, they always keep their clothes on,” he answers. “I’m a professional.”
Something tells me he’s only saying that to make me feel better.
He positions me where he can reach my body easily with his tools and slowly caresses my right ass cheek with his hand.
I’m suddenly nervous.
“Still trust me?” he asks. “Last chance. Speak now or forever hold your peace. I’ll do it right here.” Leaning down, he kisses a spot and lets his lips linger.
I sense this is important to him. I can’t imagine why.
“Go ahead. I’m ready.”
While Sam works on the tattoo, he keeps up a steady stream of funny stories to keep my mind off the stinging pain. It hurts like a bitch. I can’t help wondering what he’s drawing. Maybe a little flower? A flower would be nice.
“Are you still hanging in there okay?” he asks after a while. “Not too much longer.”
Finally, he stops working and stands back to take a look. He goes dead silent.
Uh oh. That isn’t a good sign.
“Before you freak out, I need to explain about the tattoo,” he finally says.
I close my eyes. Oh my God. What has he tattooed on my ass? And why did I let him do it? My mind is already thinking about booking laser treatments to get it off.
I’m terrified to look.
Sam grabs a big handheld mirror and holds it behind his back.
“You can yell at me all you want, just no slapping, okay?” he says, only half-joking. He’s clearly worried about my reaction. “If you absolutely hate it, I can turn it into something else. Maybe. I can’t promise anything.”
“You’re scaring me,” I say. “Let me see it. Stop stalling.”
He hesitates then holds up the mirror for me. The second I see the tattoo, tears spring into my eyes.
I love it.
The tattoo is a delicate infinity circle with the name ‘Sam’ in cursive within one side of the loop and ‘Lila’ on the other.
It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
And the most wonderful present anyone has ever given me.
I look into Sam’s worried eyes and my heart breaks.
What am I doing to him? To us?
I can’t keep this up any longer.
“You hate it,” he says. “I knew you wouldn’t like it. I’m sorry. I should have asked you first. I’ll turn it into a bird or something. All I need to do is add some feathers and a beak. And a couple of little feet.” He makes a face. “I don’t know. That probably won’t work. A walrus might be better.”
I grab his arm so he’ll stop talking. “Sam, it’s perfect. Better than perfect. I love it.”
His face breaks into a huge smile of relief. “You really like it? I’ve been thinking about it for days. I wanted it to be perfect. Hop down and come over here to the full-length mirror so you can see it better.”
I jump up quickly from the chair and everything goes black.
***
“Lila!” Sam’s voice is calling me from far away. “Lila! Open your eyes.”
I try to open my eyes and can’t. They feel so heavy. My ass hurts, too.
“Lila, come on, baby,” Sam says again. I can feel him sliding his arms under my legs and neck. What is he doing? He lifts me up and I struggle again to open my eyes.
“Sam,” I mumble against his neck. “What are you doing?”
He backs down into a chair and holds me cuddled on his lap. Carefully, he brushes the hair back from my face.
“You fainted,” he says. “Don’t try to talk. Sit still a minute. I’ve got you.”
His steady heartbeat under my ear is comforting, and I don’t want to move.
“What happened?” I ask after a minute. “I’ve never fainted in my life.”
“I don’t know,” he says, kissing the top of my head. “You jumped up to go look in the mirror and dropped straight down on the floor. I tried to catch you and barely managed to break your fall. Are you hurt anywhere?”
“My ass hurts.”
“That’s because of the tattoo. Do you remember that?”
I smile against his shirt.
“Yeah, I remember. I still love it.”
“The tattoo must have caused you to faint. I’m sorry if I hurt you. When you passed out, it scared the living shit out of me.” He tilts my face up. “Or are you sick and not telling me? If you are, you have to tell me.”
He’s worried I’m sick. Like his mom.
�
�I promise you, I’m not sick. I ran three miles today. How sick could I be? Don’t worry. I’m feeling better now.”
He doesn’t look convinced.
“I’m afraid to put you on the back of the bike for the ride home. What if you fall off? I should call Jesse and have him bring a car.”
“I’m fine,” I say. “All I need to do is put my clothes back on. First though, I want to look at the tattoo again. Stop worrying.”
Sam slips an arm around my waist and we walk across to the mirror. Turning around, I look over my shoulder at the tattoo. Sam reaches down to trace the tattoo with his index finger.
“It’s an infinity tattoo,” he says. “With our names.”
I smile at him. “I know what it is.”
“And you’re okay with my name on your ass?”
I reach up to link my arms behind his neck and pull his face down to meet my lips.
“I love your name on my ass.”
Now I’ll always have something to remember you by.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sam
Something is dead wrong.
I’m lying here wide awake in the dark with Lila curled up sound asleep against my side. She was acting weird tonight and then she passed out cold.
She keeps telling me not to worry, but I can’t help it.
Would she tell me if she was sick?
I don’t think so.
She doesn’t share anything with me, and it’s driving me fucking nuts. I want this investigation to be over. The lies and the deception are screwing with my head. We can’t go forward until she comes clean to me about everything.
I keep waiting for her to say something.
Anything.
And she never does.
Why doesn’t she tell me the truth? Even tonight, when I could see on her face how much she liked the tattoo. And yet not a word.
It was on the tip of my tongue to come right out and ask her about the investigation. To force her hand into telling me. And then she fainted.
All I could think about when she was on the floor was how fucking scared I am of losing her for good.
She wants me too. I can feel it.