Chapter 6
6
NIKKO
I tried to focus on the tattoo, but Hannah’s presence was distracting as hell. I was glad I had gloves on. I wasn’t sure I would be able to concentrate at all if there was skin-to-skin contact. Memories of last night were playing in my mind like a highlight reel. The way she’d responded to my touch, the sounds she made… it was almost enough to make a man lose his focus.
“All done,” I said finally, carefully wiping away the excess ink. I leaned back to admire my work—a simple but elegant compass design, with a small rose tucked into the curve.
Mostly.
“Can I see?”
“Nope. Not yet. It’s not going to look like much to you. Give it a day or two and let the redness fade. You’re pale. It’s going to be hard to see the design with your skin redder than the ink.”
She frowned. “If I can’t see it, how were you able to see enough to put it on my skin?”
I grabbed the supplies to cover the tattoo. “Because I’m a professional. This is what I do.”
“I swear if you put a penis or something weird on my arm, I’m going to get my friend over there to sue you. ”
I laughed. “Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know. It’s just one of those fears I have. I’ve seen the shows.”
“What shows?”
“People showing off their bad tattoos,” she murmured.
“None of my ink ends up on those shows.”
By the time I finished wrapping Hannah’s tattoo with care, I was grinning like an idiot. She’d sat through it like a champ, even though I’d caught her wincing a few times. I wasn’t sure if it was the pain or the way I’d brushed my fingers over her skin, but either way, she didn’t complain. When I told her how to take care of the tattoo, she listened like I was teaching her the secrets of the universe. Good girl energy for days. Dangerous. Addictive.
Doesn’t every bad boy want a good girl to corrupt?
I stepped back to give her some space, which was harder than it should’ve been. “You’re all set. Don’t take the bandage off for at least two days. When you do, wash it gently and use the ointment I’m about to give you. Got it?”
She nodded, her wide eyes fixed on me. “Got it.”
I couldn’t resist leaning in a little. “Promise me you’ll wait until you’re home to take it off. No peeking.”
“I promise,” she said, smiling, and damn if it didn’t light up her whole face.
“And you need to keep it greased up,” I joked.
“Got it. No peeking, keep it clean.”
“Good girl.”
Those two words slipped out before I could stop them. She looked up at me like she was offended. She didn’t want to be a good girl?
It wasn’t long before the others were done. I cleaned up my station, readying the area for the next customer.
I tried to ignore the women but it was difficult with all their chattering. They were swiping credit cards and talking about going to the beach for their last day. That was when it hit me—she was leaving. There wasn’t going to be another chance to take her to my bed and finish my exploration of her body.
I didn’t usually care when the door closed behind a hookup, but this time it felt different. Watching her leave, I felt a strange twist in my gut. Not regret. More like anticipation.
Diego and Jessie were both watching me when I turned around. Jessie’s smirk was firmly in place.
“What?” I asked, tossing my gloves into the trash.
“Oh, nothing,” Jessie said, drawing out the words. “Just wondering if you’re planning to follow her back to wherever she came from or if you’re gonna be subtle and wait for her to come back to Miami first.”
“I’m not planning anything,” I shot back, but even I could hear the defensive edge in my voice.
Diego grinned. “You’ve got it bad, man.”
“I don’t have anything,” I said, brushing past them to clean up my station. “She’s just… memorable, that’s all.”
Jessie snorted. “Yeah, memorable enough to have you grinning like an idiot. Don’t worry, though. We’ll totally keep this to ourselves.”
“Shut up, Jess.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
“Do you know where she’s from?” Diego asked. “Just in case you happen to take a trip and end up in her hometown.”
“I’m guessing Nebraska,” Jessie said. “She’s a corn-fed girl.”
I glared at them both. “She’s from Idaho.”
“Northern or southern?” Diego pushed. “There’s a big difference.”
“How would you know?”
He shrugged. “I know things.”
I shook my head, trying to dismiss their interest and my own surprising curiosity about her. “You don’t know shit.”
“Come on, man,” Diego pressed, leaning back on his stool with that annoyingly knowing look. “When was the last time you wrapped someone’s tattoo and then mooned over them like a lovesick puppy? You gotta admit, there’s something about this one.”
I threw a dirty rag into the trash harder than necessary. “Fine. Yes, she’s different. Happy now? ”
Jessie laughed, slapping her knee. “Never seen you like this. She’s got under your skin.”
“I’m leaving,” I said. “I need to go deal with the other woman not in my life.”
“Shit. Alone? Need backup?” Diego looked genuinely concerned.
“I’ll be fine. I’m just going to get my shit and leave.”
“Don’t accidentally have sex with her,” Jess warned.
“I’m not sure that’s physically possible,” I said dryly.
“That’s what she wants from you. She wants the D. She’s reeling you in. I bet she’s going to accidentally be naked when you show up.” Jessie clearly thought she was being funny.
Ignoring them, I grabbed my phone and keys. “I’m out,” I said, not waiting for a response.
Samantha’s apartment was only ten minutes away, but it felt longer. Maybe because I was already regretting the whole thing. What the hell had I even left there that was worth picking up? But when I’d told her I’d come by, she’d sounded smug—like she had the upper hand—and I wasn’t about to let her win whatever stupid game she thought we were playing.
Whatever she had was obviously not important enough for me to miss. I wasn’t convinced there was anything. I had a feeling Jess might be right. That or Samantha was setting me up to get jumped or something.
I knocked on the door and braced myself. Samantha was a beautiful woman and sex with her had been good, but I felt nothing for her. I didn’t want to have sex with her ever again. That would make it easy for me. I didn’t care if she was naked and begging me. I would grab my shit and leave, done and dusted.
When she opened the door, I was relieved to see she was dressed. There had been a time when that would have disappointed me, but that was long in the past.
She shoved a box into my hands without so much as a hello. “Here. Your stuff.”
I glanced inside. A grip strength trainer, some protein powder, an old mug, and a shirt I’d forgotten I even owned. “You couldn’t just throw this out?”
“I thought you might want it back,” she said. “Oh, and your doodles.” She turned and called over her shoulder. “Greg, grab his sketchbook.”
Greg? Who the hell was Greg?
I didn’t have to wait long for the answer. A guy built like a refrigerator appeared, my sketchbook in hand. He shoved it at me, his jaw clenched. The guy looked like he’d done more steroids than any doctor would recommend.
And I knew what that meant. Compensating for something.
“Thanks, man,” I said, taking it. “Now this , I’m glad I got back.”
I was playing it cool even though I understood what Samantha’s game was. She thought she was going to make me jealous with the new man in her life. Talk about desperate. She was screwing, or attempting to screw, a juicehead when she really wanted me back. At least in the sack. She knew I could give her what she liked and needed.
Then, because I couldn’t resist fucking with her just a little and I didn’t particularly care for the way Greg was staring at me, I looked down at Samantha’s legs. “Has she shown you the scorpion tattoo on her inner thigh? One of my best, if I do say so myself.”
Samantha’s eyes flashed like she was ready to commit murder. “Nikko, get out.”
“Relax, Sam,” I said, holding my box of junk. “I was just making conversation. Oh, and Greg?” I glanced at him over my shoulder. “If you ever want that shitty shoulder piece fixed, come down to the shop.”
“Fuck off, Nikko!” Samantha yelled as I stepped back.
The door slammed behind me and I couldn’t help but laugh. She always did have a temper. Maybe my shit-stirring would put an end to her inviting me over. It was best to make a clean break.
Maybe that was why Greg was there, like her message was all about letting me know she had moved on. That door was closed in more ways than one. That would be nice .
I tossed my shit into the car. Aside from the sketchbook, which I put in the glove compartment, there was no way I was going to be using any of it again. I didn’t trust Samantha. She probably poisoned the protein powder and rubbed shit on the shirt.
Back at the shop, Diego was waiting for me with a raised eyebrow. “How’d it go?”
I dropped the box onto the counter. “Better than I expected, surprisingly.”
“What’s in the box?” he asked.
“Garbage.”
“Like actual garbage?”
I shrugged and pulled out my gripper. “I’ll keep this but the rest is going in the trash.”
“She didn’t try to kill you or jump your bones?”
“No. I think she wanted me there to see her new man. She’s dating a guy named Greg now, poor bastard.”
Jessie poked her head out from the back room. “She actually thought she was going to make you jealous?”
“That or to let me know she had moved on,” I said. “Whatever. I offered to fix his shitty tattoo. He didn’t seem too thrilled.”
She laughed. “You’re such an ass.”
Diego shook his head, chuckling. “Man, you’ve got more drama in your life than a soap opera.”
“I can’t help it if my life’s interesting,” I said with a grin, tossing the gripper up and catching it with one hand.
“Interesting is one word for it,” Diego muttered, sorting through the box. He pulled out the protein powder and raised an eyebrow. “You’re not going to keep this?”
“Man, toss it. Knowing Samantha, she might’ve spiked it with laxatives or something just to mess with me.”
Jessie snorted from where she was organizing some new ink bottles. “You’re probably right.”
“What’s on my schedule?” I asked.
“You got that guy coming for another session on his back,” Diego said .
I nodded. “Better set up.”
I got to work preparing for what was going to be a long session. I was kicking myself for not getting Hannah’s number. It would have been so easy to ask. But then what? I sure as hell didn’t want a girlfriend. And if she wasn’t sticking around, what was the point?
“What’s got you all quiet?” Jessie asked. “Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking about Miss Idaho.”
“Maybe I am,” I said, surprising even myself.
Diego and Jessie exchanged a look, and then Jessie grinned. “Well, well. The mighty Nikko Malone, caught by a good girl. This is gonna be fun.”
“Fun for who?” I muttered, but the truth was, I didn’t really mind. Not this time.