by Susan Arden
“Doing a couple of musicians would be great publicity,” she agreed. “Pretty cool.”
“So should I send them around to your shop?”
“Definitely. I have to fix a tattoo but nothing major. That’s at nine. Anytime afterwards, I’ll be there unless a walk-in appears. Doubtful on a holiday.”
“Oh honey, those two aren’t going to be up before noon. Not with what I have in store.”
Sommer wasn’t going to ask her friend’s plans. She could only imagine and if it included doing two guys at once, that definitely wasn’t her concern. That type of nuclear fusion wouldn’t help her predicament with a certain hot cowboy.
“Okay, I’ll keep an eye out for them. Vince and Drew. Right? Let ‘em know I’m open for business.”
“Yeah. But c’mon with me and meet them. You can tell them yourself, and share a drink. They’re awfully funny and so freaking sexy.”
Rory and Mike walked by them and she caught Rory’s warning look, the type of expression he wore around her more and more. Christ, if they’d just do it already, he’d be so much easier to deal with once he was less on edge. He had to be more than frustrated. She was and she didn’t even have a pair of… Her face felt on fire so she stopped that line of thinking.
“Great. I could use a laugh,” she remarked roughly.
“What happened?” Jen’s eyes searched her face.
“Nothing. Just this place. You know how it goes with the gambling. It’s never just a single bet and sucks the fun out of coming down. Dancing and drinking used to be plenty. Now, it’s like going to a casino without the bright lights. The whole focus is on that wide-screen, the clock, and the scoreboard.”
“That’s the name of the game in this town for lots of folks.”
“Yep. Don’t I know it.”
Jen looped her arm through Sommer’s and tugged. “Girl, smile. I guarantee a couple of minutes in these guys’ company and you’ll be laughing.”
“It’s not those guys I’m concerned with. I could walk around buck naked and it wouldn’t matter.” She backed up and halted, her breath evaporating when a pair of hands rubbed intimately over her hips…so intimately, a set of thumbs traced over the curve of each of her ass cheeks. Rory was across the bar, so who the hell was this? Better not be Lonny!
She didn’t waste any time, pushing the strange pair of hands off her body, and pivoting around, ready to lay into whoever had the audacity to touch her. “Keep your hands to yourself!” she snarled then gasped, realizing the owner of the wayward hands was Drew.
“I’d sure notice if you were buck naked,” he replied, in a voice that dripped of sex and sin.
“That day won’t ever come where you’re concerned,” she returned seamlessly, even though her heart chugged in her chest.
His brazen interest in her became more obvious when his nostrils flared and his full lips curved into a smile after her mini-rebuke. He raked his fingers through his long dark hair, giving Sommer an up-close view of his inked arm. She couldn’t really concentrate on the design this close, not when he kept staring down at her; or really, her mouth.
His rebellious hair framed dark, bottomless eyes set in olive skin. Exotic as he was erotic, and no wonder Jen had her tongue down his throat. Men like Drew didn’t show up in North Texas often. From his cleft chin to his striking features, he reminded Sommer of one of those untamed Arabian horses that she’d seen at Evermore. The type of stallion that had to be paired with a capable rider. This man was most definitely the same type. Only a woman with experience should bare herself to him and take a chance. He’d eat up a girl from top to bottom and walk away with a smirk—the sort that didn’t leave much to the imagination…like the one he now sported.
“You gonna take care of me and my bandmate?” Drew said softly, staring at her until she was forced to look away without answering.
Jen snaked her fingers around his forearm. “She sure is. Aren’t you Sommer?”
Her mouth went dry and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. All the way up. This was the moment she should come up with an excuse. Anything. Just forfeit. Abort and slowly, back away from this type of danger. If she had any sense of self-preservation, she’d say ‘Goodnight’ and head straight for the door.
“Hey, you Sommer?” The blonde Adonis sidled up to Drew. The two men were a blinding vision of light and dark. Holy, holy shit!
Ivy snapped her fingers in front of Sommer’s glazed eyes. “Girl, cat’s got your tongue? Oh man, I ain’t never seen Sommer at a loss for words.”
Drew’s smile widened. “Vince, convince Sommer that she’ll enjoy an afternoon with us.”
“Truth.” Vince laughed, cocking his head, and his gaze swam over her just as hot and searing as the other rocker. The guys bumped fists, and that’s when she noticed Vince’s arm and the swirling black ink that started at his elbow, crawling over the skin of his bicep, disappeared inside his shirt sleeve, and then rose up one side of his neck.
He wore his ash blond hair longer than most, all the way to his shoulders. Had to be the first thing girls noticed. Thick. And Ivy had had fingers rifling through his locks, drawing Sommer’s attention to the dark ink design on his neck, but she couldn’t get a good look in the dim bar lighting.
“See something you like?” Drew asked in a low voice and she blinked, glancing downward to the motorcycle boots on Vince’s wide spread feet. He stood with an easy confidence and leaned forward, overshadowing Sommer but formed a barrier, cutting her off from Drew.
“Babe, we’re all about a good time. Can you handle two of us at once?” Vince’s words were just as hot as his body. Pulsing and pregnant with innuendo. “Seriously, Sommer I want you to work your magic on my skin. I got this tattoo. I don’t know—should it be removed? Maybe you got the skill to make it work. I need your help before going on tour.” Abruptly, he pulled down the collar of his shirt, displaying the design. The lines bled and in an instant, she understood the problem. The tattoo artist had packed the ink. A rocker with a bad tattoo wasn’t cool. He needed assistance and was searching for help. Her help.
The door of provocative illusions slammed shut and in place, she absorbed where Vince was coming from. He was a player and accustomed to using his charm, but now he was asking for her help and didn’t see her as some small-town nobody who was inconsequential. “May I?” she asked, taking a step closer and dispelling the distance between them.
For a second, they gazed at each other and she lifted her brow—the pierced one. “Sure, babe,” he said in a cocky tone, but he didn’t gift her with one of his killer smiles, just held her gaze and peered over at her as though curious on her next move.
“Ivy, hold up Vince’s hair.”
“You want to see his tat?”
“No, she’s jealous. Vince is probably the only person who actually rivals her blond tresses, and she’s gonna cut his hair.” Jen laughed, hanging onto Drew.
“Take a peek,” Vince said.
Sommer ignored them all as she approached the canvas of her future creation. She took her work seriously. This would be the first time she’d been asked to do a tattoo on short notice. Normally she met with her client, sat and discussed their vision. She might revise the graphic design brought in by her client with a few sketches. Even though she regularly engaged in spontaneous decisions—her inked creations were not part of that impulsive framework.
She touched Vince’s neck and felt his body tense for a second as she traced the edge of the tattoo. A phoenix design with flames, and a name. Not uncommon. “When did you get this done?”
“About a year ago.”
“Do you want to keep the name?”
“Absolutely. My little sister. She passed.”
“Did you have a specific design in mind?” Sommer asked, her chest pinching at the mention of his sister. Gone. And now he kept her memory out in the open.
“Nothing ordinary,” he was quick to say. He appeared pensive, running his hand down the side of his face. “Som
ething…surreal.”
“You’ve got the fire and phoenix.” She envisioned a design she’d been working on. “What about feathers?”
“Come again?” Drew said from behind her and this time, he’d dropped the playful tone. “You got something to say, cowgirl. Best just come out with it.”
“I’m envisioning a badass archangel. Full regalia. Work the feathers into rows. Unless you have a design in mind, Drew.” She shot him a look over her shoulder.
Vince tugged her wrist, jiggling her fingers. “Tell me more.”
She swung around and described her design as succinctly as possible, given that they were in a bar and people were shouting all around them. She had to impress upon Vince, this wasn’t going to be easy. “But a design like this will take hours. Can you come by early…earlier than noon?”
“You have a studio and a chair?” Vince asked.
“Fully reclining and music.”
“Give me the address and I’ll be there. Early. Around ten. Probably closer to eleven.”
She frowned. “That’s not early.”
He grinned, hugging Ivy to him. “It is in my neck of the woods.”
RORY picked up his mug and turned around, searching for Sommer. What the fuck! He slammed his mug down on the bar, drawing the attention of Mike and another one of the guys from his crew. “What happened?” Mike asked, motioning to the bartender for another round.
“Don’t include me,” Rory growled. “I’ll catch you tomorrow and we can settle up.”
“Hell, you better give me until next Friday on what you just won,” Mike replied.
“Cade,” Rory called out. “Cash me out. Plus put my crew on my bill and tack on your tip.”
“How much?”
“Hell. Whatever you think is fair.”
Cade grinned and shook his head. “Man, I could be headed off to Hawaii if that were true.”
Rory arched a brow but didn’t reply as he focused on Sommer, her friends, and those two guys who seemed awfully close to her. The one dude in front of her didn’t look like an ass; it was the other dude. The one Jen was hanging on that kept eyeing Sommer’s body. What a dick. He’d seen plenty of guys doing that shit. They’d have one sure lay—a girl that they would use and discard—and then there was the one they really wanted. Those inked up guys reminded him of Haden Sinclair. His older brother Stephen’s brother-in-law, a big time rocker out in L.A., recording another album, and still touring with his band, Diehard. Rory and most of his family had gone to their concert in Dallas last year, and probably would do the same this year when Haden came through again.
He walked a straight line from the bar to Sommer. “Hey,” he said tightly coming up behind her and making eye contact with Jen and then the douchebag with his arms around her.
“Sommer’s got two clients for tomorrow,” Jen said to him.
Sommer looked over her shoulder and when their gazes connected, the furrow between her brows subsided and she smiled, holding out her hand to him. The sight of her—or rather the way she melded to him, yeah, that did it for him. He reached for her and this time, he didn’t stop with a squeeze to her waist. Hell. No. He wrapped his arms around her middle, drawing Sommer back until her soft curves teased him and he felt her stomach muscles quiver. Inhaling her scent, he rubbed his fingers over her waist and noticed Ivy watching him.
“Hi,” he said over to her. “What’s going on?”
Ivy was standing there holding hands with the other dude. “Not much. Game’s over,” she remarked.
“Devils won. Not by much,” Jen chimed in.
“Enough to win and a good start against a tough opponent,” he replied.
“Sommer, introduce your future customers to your boyfriend,” Ivy said.
The lights flashed on the stage and he felt Sommer lean back against him. “Rory,” she said, rotating in his arms and tilting her head. “I want you to meet my future clients. Vince…” Sommer paused, then she tensed. “And Drew.”
He unwound one arm, but still held her against him as he fist bumped both guys, giving Vince a nod and Drew a long cold look. That idiot didn’t let up. “What’s doing?” he said, unwilling to be the first to look away.
“Not enough,” Drew retorted, staring back at him without blinking.
Fuck. Just what he needed—to be lured into a juvenile pissing match. “You here for the game tonight?”
“Naw. Just waiting to do our set. You one of the local cowboy-folk from around here?” Drew inquired, his smirk getting more annoying.
“Born and bred,” he returned.
Even with his arms around Sommer, Drew stared harder at her ass, and a twinge of restlessness shot through Rory. Normally, he wasn’t the sort to be jealous around other guys. Possessive—no argument. He and Sommer were both the same in that regard. But most of the guys around here weren’t on their way to a new adventure, and that’s the undercurrent he got here. Sommer’s friends were all over these rockers with their tattoos, long hair, and probably edgy behavior. Maybe this was the type of guy that Sommer might fall for if she were unattached. On that thought, he stepped closer to Sommer, instinctively tightening his arms around her, and giving his back to Drew.
“Later,” Jen said. “Hellhound is going to make some noise.”
“Okay,” Sommer replied and moved her mouth to his ear. “That’s the name of their band.” As she whispered, her hip brushed up against his dick, stealing his focus and sent a steady blood flow south of the border.
Ivy waved, her dark eyes widening. “You two better not hide out over here. The action is that way.”
“We’ll be right there,” Sommer said, rocking her hips to the point his stomach muscles locked. It wasn’t soon enough, when this small group broke up. They all traded a round of ‘See ya later’ with him and Sommer before sauntering toward the stage.
“Baby,” he groaned, holding back from grinding against her, but damn his cock was harder than a hammer and ready to do some pounding. He had to concentrate on something other than her body and strained to speak sensibly. “So, you have some new business.”
She leaned back into him. “I can’t believe it. Two new customers.”
“Tattoos?” he asked, capturing her hips and holding onto her. He glanced down at the twin curves of her ass cheeks tormenting his dick.
“Not much piercing ever gets done around here. Unless you’re willing to let me have at your nipples.”
At the mention of nipples, his cock twitched unbearably. Brushing his mouth along her jaw, he kissed the side of her neck, imagining her tits and how he’d suck on each.
“It was enough for you to get yours done.” His voice came out gravelly and he returned to kiss her neck.
“What does it matter? You still haven’t seen them.” Sommer sighed invitingly.
He stiffened, so close to the edge, and dug his fingers into her hips. “Doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about them.”
He didn’t need a visual of her tits right at this moment. Damn, what he’d do to have her naked and spread under him. Tonight would go down in history as the day he’d gotten tested…taken to the mat and it still wasn’t over. Hell, maybe she had a point in taking a little pressure off. Oral sex wasn’t going too crazy. He’d imagined eating her for so long and having her mouth on his cock. It wasn’t like they were diving into a night of mindless sex.
“Did the Devils’ win? With the…spread you needed?” she asked, all of sudden.
For a beat, he couldn’t talk sports or what he’d wagered—not with the image of Sommer giving him a blowjob hijacking his brainwaves. “Yep. I won a chunk of change. Almost feel bad for Mike,” he finally said in a strained voice.
“Don’t. He’ll collect scads from others. I don’t like it.” She tipped his hat up and when her gaze locked onto his, her serious expression changed into one of curiosity. “Cowboy, what on earth are you thinking?”
Was he that transparent, or was the bulge in his jeans her primary clue? He pulled her a
little closer toward him, ready to tell her about his idea of getting out of here. “’Bout us.”
A power chord sounded from the stage, but Sommer didn’t budge. She just stared up at him, her pupils dilated and searching his face.
“Want to dance, cowboy?” she asked, her entrancing golden gaze still locked with his, enticing him to agree to near about anything she proposed.
“I owe you one.” He hauled her to him, unable to stop from grinding against her hips. “Then let’s get lost and let off some steam.”
CHAPTER 4
RORY TWIRLED her on the dance floor. Once. Then he caught and brought her snug up against him, wrapping her within his arms that were more like twin bands of steel. She laid one of her hands along the brick wall of his chest and absorbed the steady thud of his heart under her fingertips. Opposite to her raging pulse, which still hadn’t settled from the suggestion he’d shared.
Let’s get lost. Those three words could mean so much, but when coupled with let off some steam… Yowza!
She swallowed and glanced up into his face. “Were you being funny or are you serious?” she asked, snaking her arms around his neck as Rory’s piercing blue eyes returned her gaze. “Specifically, the part about getting lost.”
“Never been more serious, sugar.”
God! What must she look like, staring up at him? Wide-eyed and lips trembling. Well, this scared-rabbit combined with a deer-dumbfounded-by-headlights routine needed to stop, and fast. He might rethink the chink in his armor and she wasn’t about to let that happen. Heck, she wanted to pull him off the dance floor and out into the parking lot, stat!
Except she had to get a few answers. First. “Umm. What happened to change your mind?
He inhaled deeply, and his chest rose and fell before he answered. “You’re right. Not all the way—but definitely you got my attention,” he said and his face darkened. “I’m not about to just jump without looking. But I hear what you’re saying about taking out relationship deeper. I’m offering up a compromise.”