Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 123672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
I nod, and a design weaves through my mind already. After working on Viper’s men for the past few years, I have more than enough ideas to work with. “I got you,” I say. “When did you want to get started?”
“As soon as you can get me in.”
I nod before pointing toward my schedule. “Could you grab that?” I ask Viper.
He doesn’t hesitate, grabbing the little black book and putting it down in front of me, and I peel my gloves off before flicking through the pages. I don’t exactly have time to squeeze him in, but Viper’s guys have always been good to me, so I go out of my way to make sure I fit them in. “Ummm . . . I could have a design concept drawn up by the end of the week, and assuming you’re good with it, we could start as early as next week, but you’re in for some long sessions.”
Spider nods, and I scrawl his name into my schedule before closing the little book and grabbing a fresh pair of gloves. I position myself back beside my client, and as Viper and Spider turn to leave, I call out, “Hey, Viper,” and watch as he turns back. “If you’ve got ten, could you hang around? I wanna see how your chest is healing.”
He nods, his heavy gaze lingering on mine. “We’ll be out front.”
Perfect.
Turning back to my client, I finish up his shading before cleaning him up and making sure he’s all good to go. He stands in the mirror for way too long, and as he flexes to himself, watching how his ink sits with his body, Crew glances toward me, a heavy scowl across his face. “Really?” he questions, arching a brow, his tone thick with disdain. “Viper’s been inked more than anyone in this fucking room and suddenly you think he might need a little guidance with his aftercare?”
I stare back at him, suspicion deep in my gaze, not liking his tone. “If you’re jealous, just say that.”
Crew scoffs. “Jealous? Of Viper? Get fucked, babe. I’ve already got you. I don’t need to be jealous of some asshole who can’t catch a fucking hint.”
Irritation burns through my veins. Already got me? I mean, sure. He fucked me last night, left his mark from one end of my apartment to the other, but that doesn’t mean shit. We talked about my boundaries, and as far as I was concerned, he was okay with them.
“Then what’s your issue?” I demand, getting frustrated with him, ignoring his comment about already having me because right now, all he’s about to have is my foot shoved so far up his ass he won’t walk for a week. “I’ve been working on Viper for years, and you know just as well as I do that he doesn’t give a shit about aftercare, and I spent way too many hours on that piece to have him come back in here in a few weeks telling me it healed like shit. So yeah, I asked him to stay so I could check up on it, but you know what? I don’t owe you any explanations, and I sure as hell shouldn’t be standing here trying to justify myself to you. He’s my client, and if I wish to check how his chest is healing, then that’s none of your damn business.”
Crew stands and steps into me. “You’re leading him on,” he growls, getting in my face, his hand balling into a fist at his side. “And you’re only fucking doing it to get at me. To prove some fucking point that you don’t belong to me, but I told you, Ky. You’re mine. Whether you fucking like it or not.”
“The fuck did you just say to me?” I demand. “You might have made me scream your name all night, and we might have something worth looking into in the future, but if this is the kind of bullshit I’m going to get from you for simply looking out for one of my clients, then you can forget it. You’ll never fucking touch me again. Don’t make me regret what we did, Crew.”
He clenches his jaw just as the bell over the door chimes and Viper strides back into the shop. He takes one look at the standoff between me and Crew, and a cocky grin stretches across his face. “Trouble in paradise?” he laughs, already gripping the hem of his shirt and pulling it up over his head, putting that impressive torso on display.
For fuck’s sake. I swear, Viper’s timing is always on point.
I roll my eyes and step away from Crew as my client finally pulls his shirt on and makes his way back to the reception desk to pay, probably sensing this isn’t somewhere he wants to be right now. Then despite having a girl working the desk today, I walk back around with him, needing a minute to calm down before having to face Viper.