Series: Paige Michaels
Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
“Hi! Maniac should be in soon. Feel free to look around or take a seat,” Tatiana greeted him.
“Thanks.”
Just then, she heard the bang of the back door being flung open. The Marine’s response grabbed her attention as he hurried around the counter to put himself between whatever was storming through the back door and Tatiana. They both watched the door. He had his hand on the back of his waistband.
“I’m sorry I’m late. Damn flat tire,” Maniac raved as he barged through the storage area door. He froze in place as he took in the scenario in front of him. Fire lit in his gaze.
Slowly, the Marine raised both his hands and shifted away from Tatiana. “Sorry, man. You scared us both. Just looking out for the lady.”
Maniac looked at Tatiana for confirmation and at her enthusiastic nod, answered, “I must have sounded like a bull in a…” He looked around before finishing, “Tattoo shop,” as he walked forward to wrap an arm around Tatiana’s waist. “Sorry, Baby girl.”
Tickled by the visual image, she pointed her index fingers and lifted her hands to her temples to create bull’s horns on her head. “Olé!”
“You!” Maniac pulled her close and planted a kiss on her lips that made her want more before backing away. She was stunned by this new side of Maniac, and she liked it.
“Look at this outfit. You’re trying to kill me again, aren’t you,” he growled softly.
“That’s me! Ms. Matador, professional bull killer,” Tatiana answered pertly with her hands on her hips. If he only knew how long she’d deliberated over what to wear today and how many discarded outfits she’d left on her bed.
Maniac’s heated gaze roamed up and down her body, making her nipples hard. She didn’t move though. She stood still and let him look. If she had any doubts about how hot she was in this outfit, they were eliminated by his narrow-eyed stare.
Yep. The pink flapper dress with the feathers all over it that matched the feathers in her heels had been the right choice. It was barely long enough to cover her butt and held up by spaghetti straps. The front dipped low enough to show plenty of her cleavage, and she wasn’t wearing a bra.
Granted, she was well aware the word cleavage was a stretch for her. Her breasts weren’t really large enough to create actual cleavage, but judging by the way Maniac wet his lips with his tongue as his gaze lingered on her chest, he didn’t mind the teasing skin she was showing off.
Their client’s laugh drew their attention away from each other. Maniac reached a hand out. “Thank you, Marine. I appreciate you stepping in to protect my girl.”
“Always.”
“Let’s go look at the design you came up with,” Maniac suggested, indicating the way to his area.
Tatiana stared after the two of them as they walked away. My girl… Am I his girl? A soft giggle escaped her lips before she could stop it. It seemed that overnight her relationship with her business partner had taken a one-hundred-eighty-degree turn.
Heart racing, she tried to put this new development out of her mind. This was their place of business. She needed to act professional. A client could walk in at any moment, and here she was standing in the middle of the room staring at the back of the man who’d just kissed her good morning.
How had he managed to do that and then turn around and walk away like it was no big deal? Like the Earth hadn’t completely shifted beneath them?
Within minutes, the men were engaged in getting to know each other and their histories in the service. Tatiana shook her head in admiration. It might just look like two men wrapped up in old stories, but Maniac was skillfully finding out information about what was important to this man. Details he gleaned from the conversation would show up in the final tattoo design. That’s what made him so good at what he did.
She answered a few calls from tattoo newbies who were testing out the waters to see if they wanted to follow through with their idea of being inked. Some would show up and others would decide it wasn’t for them. Tatiana respected both decisions. The last thing she wanted was for someone to get a tattoo they hated.
Speaking of which… Tatiana looked up at the next man to walk through the door. He was a prime example of what not to do. She tried to be professional and not react when she’d seen it, but she knew this man couldn’t wait to re-ink the tattoo he’d gotten in high school. Somehow at two hundred and fifty pounds and fifty years old, having a cartoon tattoo on his pelvis wasn’t as appealing as it had been years ago.