Chapter Twenty-Seven
Gage
The buzz of the tattoo machine thrums through me like a second heartbeat as the ink pierces my skin until it’s permanently stained. My eyes focus sharply on all of the little details as I maneuver the needle across my own flesh. Some of the artwork on my body has been created by other talented tattoo artists, but this one is too important. I’m not trusting this one with anyone else, I’m the only one who can do it right.
The deep red ink is the perfect shade—one I spent over an hour crafting, mixing, and perfecting. Out of all the ink covering my body, this is the most meaningful.
The most special.
I can’t claim credit for this work of artistry. I was blessed with this perfection, but I intend to preserve it and I refuse to fuck it up.
Every minute I spend with Jill, the urge to tell her the truth grows stronger, but I know she’s not ready yet. Once I know I have her, really and fully, to the point of no return—then I can tell her. But until then, I’m not saying fucking a word. It’s not a risk I’m willing to take, not when it comes to Jill.
She won’t take it easy, that I’m sure of. No matter when or how I tell her, I’m going to feel her wrath. But I’m not going to lose her because of her weasel of a brother. The cops never found a body, just like I knew they wouldn’t. They never will. And as painful as it is, Jill is slowly starting to accept the reality of the situation.
She’ll never see Tommy again.
Her life has improved so much since he’s been out of her life, whether she’s recognized it or not. No more late-night phone calls pleading for money for ‘just one more game’, no more bookies threatening her with violence when a debt hasn’t been paid. No more creeps grabbing at her when Tommy shows up to her apartment blackout drunk with some of his gambling buddies.
I know I technically still own her through Tommy’s debt. But I stopped taking her money a long time ago. In fact, there’s a bank account with three hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars in it with her name on it. She hasn’t noticed yet, and I’m not in a hurry to tell her. I’m a selfish bastard who likes when she shows up for her shifts where I can be close to her.
A ding sounds across my office as my computer screen lights up. The motion-activated camera in my kitchen detected movement, the feed showing me a look into my house. Jill’s wearing an oversized sweatshirt that falls off one shoulder and reaches her mid-thigh, and she’s standing in my kitchen with the food delivery.
After leaving Jill at my house this morning, I spent the next several hours tracking down the missing alcohol shipment. I might have had to threaten a few lives and blackmail one of my suppliers, but the missing liquor was secured—and then some. Dealing with those asshats, knowing Jill was lying naked in my bed, made me extra brutal.
Pausing my work, I stand and walk over to the desk for a better look. Leaning forward to brace myself on the wooden surface, my hand lands on a metallic piece of jewelry. Picking it up, the weight of it in my palm feels heavy with meaning—a symbol of my devotion to the woman I would do anything for. It’s satisfying. My fingers absentmindedly toy with the charm hanging from the chain as I refocus on the stunning woman in my kitchen.
I watch as she unpacks the meal I ordered from one of her favorite places—some soft pretzel bites, a Santa Fe salad with blackened salmon, a large order of french fries with extra house ranch dressing, and a chocolate lava cake. The smile on her face with each container fuels me, and I can’t help but smile too.
She goes for the french fries first, just like I knew she would. My eyes track how she dips the fry into the ranch generously and pops the entire thing into her mouth. I could watch her all day, just like this.
Except…
Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out my phone and type out a quick text.
Me: Take it off, baby.
Jill’s phone vibrates on the counter next to her, and she leans over to read it. She rolls her eyes, expression turning sassy as she moves to pull the sweatshirt off and dramatically drops it on the floor. Standing gloriously naked in my kitchen, she lifts both of her hands in the air with her middle fingers raised to flip me off.
I chuckle deeply, arousal rippling through me, as I walk back over to my station. Picking up the tattoo gun, I finish inking my skin to the view of the curvy angel eating in my kitchen. But watching only lasts for so long.
Me: Pick it up off the floor.
Me: Slowly
Jill reads my messages, shaking her head. But I can see her biting back a smile as she types her response.
Menace: Bossy
Tossing her phone down on the counter, she turns away from the camera. Bending at the waist to stick her big sexy ass in the air, she slowly reaches down to grab the sweatshirt off the floor. When she rises back up, she gives her ass a shake that shoots straight to my cock, and tosses her hair back sensually.
Holy shit.
I need to get this tattoo done so I can be with her. Four hours is too long away from her.
The buzzing of the machine echoes through the room as I work to finish the tattoo, fueled by my newfound motivation.
Walking up behind her, my hands greet her first, then my lips. Wrapping my arms around her lush figure, my lips press to the side of her neck. Jill’s head tilts to the side to allow me better access, a soft sigh escaping her as I taste her sweet skin.
“I brought you something.” I place the box on the counter in front of her. Jill reaches for the box while I feast on her.
“I’m supposed to be working.” There’s not an ounce of conviction in Jill’s voice, making me grin against her neck.
“You’re on a break,” I inform her. She lifts the top off the box to reveal the jewelry inside. A short gold chain that matches one of her favorite necklaces sits inside with the gold letter L hanging in the center.
“Is this an anklet?” she asks. “With the letter L.”
“For Lawless,” I reply, trailing my nose up to whisper in her ear. “I needed a way to get my other initial on your body. This way, I can have it dangling over my shoulders tonight.”
“Wait, what is that?” Jill asks, feeling the clear bandage covering the fresh tattoo on my palm. She lifts my hand and flips it over to see her lips permanently branded on my skin in her signature crimson color. The color match to her lipstick is impeccable, if I do say so myself.
“Is that—? Did you—?” She asks, looking up at me. “Did you really?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely. It’s a work of art that I want on my skin forever,” I reply. “Besides, it’s only fair.” She looks down at the tattoo again, gently tracing over it with her finger.
“You think this makes us even?” she smarts, making me bite back a grin. I love her defiance. “Those lips could belong to anyone. It’s not like it’s my initials.”
She has no idea.
Taking my hand from hers, I cup her face in my palms. “I’ll tattoo ‘property of Jillian Hart’ across my forehead right now. Just say the word.”
“You would not,” she argues.
“Try me.” I’m dead serious, and once she sees that, her expression softens. She only gets sweet with me, I fucking like it.
“Don’t do that. I like your forehead the way it is.”
“Do you?” I murmur. She nods against my hands.
“Yes, it’s a very nice forehead,” she says, an amused smile tugging at her lips. “Plus, imagine the hassle of having to fix the tattoo when my name changes to Lawless.” Her words have my grip on her face tightening possessively, making her grin. This radiant smile of hers could sustain me for the rest of my life, and I’m determined to keep it there for the rest of hers.
“I like the sound of that,” I inform her, stating the obvious.
“I’m warming to the idea.” She leans up to kiss me, our lips moving together sensually before she pulls away. She gazes up at me for another minute, and I can see the moment she realizes where we are. “My break’s over. Now go away so I can focus.”
With one last kiss, I leave her to do her work. On my walk back to my office, there’s a swagger to my steps that has me feeling like a giddy schoolboy who got to hold hands with his crush at recess. Only this is a million times better. Jill is letting me in, letting me see every part of her.
I never expected it to be easy. Up until now, men have been nothing but disappointments in her life. But I’m nothing like her abusive ex, pathetic excuse of a father, or her leech of a brother. Jill is mine to protect, to care for, and baby. She just needs to realize it.
For months, I planned and fantasized about how I would win her over once I got the chance. And now that it’s working, I have no intention of stopping.