14. Caught Red-Handed
Chapter 14
Caught Red-Handed
Ori
A fter a quick bite to eat, Mina and I hightail it back to the store. We duck inside to let the staff know we’ll return in an hour to relieve them before walking next door to Black Lotus.
I’ve only been inside one other time, and let’s be honest, I was too damn angry to appreciate the upscale decor.
My knowledge of tattoo parlors is nil, but Black Lotus reeks of sophistication and understated elegance.
Sleek pieces of artwork line the walls, no doubt courtesy of the resident artists, and soft lighting casts a gentle glow over the reception area. Two leather loungers and a dark green velvet couch sit against the far wall, currently occupied by a handful of tattooed beauties, their inked skin an extension of the artistry displayed on the walls. The space feels inviting, yet there’s an undeniable edge to it, a blend of luxury and creativity that’s both alluring and slightly intimidating.
His world is so different from mine. I don’t belong here, do I?
I only allow the thought to linger for a moment before kicking it aside. When given free rein, my brain never fails to drag me to the darkest emotional crevices, threatening to pitch my happiness over the edge without so much as a backward glance. But not today. Today, I refuse to let doubt take root.
“I’m impressed,” I murmur to Mina. “It’s more gallery than grunge.”
“Almost like they’re not the heathens you believed them to be,” Mina replies with a snort.
“Remind me again why we’re friends.”
“Because you love me and can’t live without me.”
Now it’s my turn to snort out a laugh. “Keep telling yourself that.”
Granted, every word is true. I’d be lost without Mina. She’s the little sister I never had.
We weave through the crowd of twenty or so people until we have a clear view of Ash and his workspace. It’s not as close as I’d prefer, but I have the distinct feeling if I push these folks out of the way, they’ll return the favor.
Ash perches on a low stool, his gloved hands arranging the inks in front of him. He moves with the practiced ease of a man who knows exactly what he’s doing and how fabulous he is at doing it. Every motion is confident, calculated. Once again, not a hint of insecurity, just the quiet swagger of a man who’s a master of his craft.
A master with women, too.
Ash glances at his client, shooting her a lopsided grin. “While I finish getting ready, why don’t you introduce yourself, gorgeous?”
Their gazes lock for a beat before she offers a wave and sexy smile to the crowd.
I thought she was striking from a distance, but I was mistaken. Striking is an understatement. The woman is stunning—a sexually charged mash-up of Snow White and Jessica Rabbit—with long jet-black hair and skin just a shade darker than mine. But unlike me, several pieces of ink highlight her skin.
Tugging up the sleeve of my sweater, I glance at the now dry lily painted on my forearm and wonder why she suits the inked look, and I don’t.
Hating how her beauty blends effortlessly with Ash’s chiseled good looks, while I’m a puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit, no matter how you position it.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
“What’s your name, beautiful?” a man calls out from the crowd.
The dark-haired woman smiles in his direction. “Hi, lover. My name is Raven Scarlett, but you can call me baby.”
“Oh, baby,” the man in the crowd responds, letting loose with a wolf whistle.
Of course, Raven’s voice is soft and breathy, a la Marilyn Monroe. A bedroom voice to match her bedroom eyes and bedroom curves.
She’s a walking, talking wet dream, and the crowd is eating her up.
Mina jostles me in the ribs. “Raven Scarlett? What kind of name is that?”
What kind indeed?
I shrug, determined to appear unaffected. “Probably an adult film star, or the child of circus folk. Hard to know.”
Not that it matters. The woman could call herself Piggly Wiggly and the men would collapse at her feet. Half a dozen words from her ruby lips and the entire room falls under her spell. I swear, it’s like watching some kind of magic trick, the way every set of eyes gravitate toward her, completely enchanted.
Down jealousy. Just because Ash is inking her doesn’t mean he’s fucking her. I’m sure he doesn’t sleep with every single client.
Right?
God, I hate my brain sometimes. She’s such a sadistic bitch.
Although, unless there are two women named Raven hanging around Black Lotus, this is the same woman Ash escorted to the wine bar earlier. On my recommendation.
Determined to get my brain on another track—any at this point—I grab a tablet off a nearby table and open Ash’s portfolio before thrusting it under Mina’s nose. “Have you seen Ash’s work before?”
Mina shakes her head, flipping through a few photos. “You’re not kidding. His designs are so realistic.”
“Braden said Ash is the best in the business with portraits. It’s like looking at a photograph.”
“What do they call this style?” Mina asks, holding up a photo of an elderly man sitting in a rocking chair.
“Photorealism,” Ash’s voice rumbles behind me, right before his hand drifts down to palm my ass. “Excuse me, Little One.”
I glance over my shoulder and give him a wink. “Excuse you is more like it.”
“You love it.” It’s a declarative statement as his hand tightens ever so slightly, giving my peach a squeeze.
I turn to face him, crossing my arms over my chest as I arch a brow at him. “Do I, though? Thought I was tricky to read. ”
“For some people, but I’ve got a good handle on what makes you wet.”
Holy shit, did he just announce that fact in front of Mina and the entire crowd gathered to watch him lay down ink?
And why do I love that concept so much?
I lift my hand, gliding one finger down the center of his chest. If he wants to play, we’ll play. “Maybe you got lucky.”
He grasps my finger, halting any further movement. “Maybe I’ll get lucky again.”
His voice rolls over me, setting every cell in my body on fire. Suddenly, words fail me as a flush climbs my cheeks.
Damn, but that sounds delightful.
“Although,” Ash begins, shooting me a rueful smile as he rubs his jaw, “there is a change of plans later. Some friends surprised our shop with a catered party after the festival wraps.”
So much for late night delights.
I wonder if his client, aka the inked goddess, is behind his itinerary change.
Still, I refuse to let on that it bothers me—much.
I force a smile and shrug. “Maybe you’ll get lucky elsewhere, then. Maybe we both will. The night is young.”
Yes, it’s a cocky aside, but I’ve learned this is exactly how to handle men with egos the size of Asher Hammond’s.
A gentle reminder that although he may possess a remarkably talented cock, he’s not the only cock in town. Besides, he’s partying with a bevy of women willing to do anything, and I mean anything , for a second of his attention.
It’s not like he’s missing out on opportunities tonight.
A fact I loathe more and more every second .
“Wait, a damn minute.” Ash grabs my arm, sliding his hand down to grasp my fingers. “Um … why don’t you come along? You’ll have a good time. I guarantee it.”
He shifts his weight and clears his throat, before averting his gaze to the far wall.
Oh, I know that maneuver well. It’s one I’ve perfected over the years.
Asher Hammond, are you embarrassed? And … did you just ask me out?
After getting shot down twice by the man, I’m playing it safe. “Always a possibility.”
I realize, a second too late, that I just used Ash’s blow-off line against him.
A fact which is not lost on the man.
A scoff flies from his mouth. “I really don’t like that response.”
Time to turn the tables. I offer a slight shrug, knowing it will only further irk him. “Neither did I.”
Ash leans in, his eyes darkening. “How about you try a different one? A better one.”
My heart races in my chest, but I’m determined to play it cool. The less interested I appear, the more desperate he grows.
I like this version of the game.
I glance up at him, dragging my tongue along my lower lip. “Maybe? Is that good enough for you?”
“Not really.”
Before I can kick off another sassy retort, Ash grabs me round the waist and hauls me into a small room off the main parlor floor.
“Are you locking me in the supply closet until I behave?” I ask, waving my hand at the shelves lined with towels, gloves, and an assortment of inks and bottles.
Ash backs me against the far wall, his muscled arms caging me in his embrace. “Something like that.”
I dare to reach my hand up, tracing my finger along the scruff of his beard. “What can I do for you, sir ?”
A low growl rises from his chest as he presses his body against mine. “Now, we’re getting somewhere.”
He slides his hand along my throat and tips my chin up before claiming my kiss. He swallows any arguments as his tongue slides against mine, his fingers holding me in the moment.
As if I’d look for an escape.
I rise on tiptoe, desperate to get closer, earning his grunt of approval as he knits his fingers in my hair.
His beard scrapes against my skin as our tongues tangle, his warm breath mingling with mine as the din outside fades away. There’s a hunger in his kiss, as if he’s reliving every delicious moment of our night together.
Ash slips his hands around my ass as he scoops me into his arms and guides my legs around his waist. “Fuck, but I missed you,” he hisses, his breath hot against my neck.
Will I have sex in a supply closet, with a full house of patrons just on the other side of the door?
Not a doubt in my mind.
He bucks against me, his cock straining against his jeans as a guttural grunt escapes his throat.
Here’s hoping he locked the door.
A second later, I get my answer, when Braden bursts into the closet.
“Hang on a second, Zane. Let me grab some towels.” He stops dead in his tracks, shaking his head when he catches sight of us. “Seriously? Again? You two are worse than a couple of teenagers.”
Oh. My. God.
Ash sets me down before shooting a dirty look at his brother. “How is it you always know just when to disturb me?”
“It’s a supply closet. Use a bedroom next time.” Braden chuckles, pulling a roll of towels off the shelf, before pivoting his gaze to me. “I must say, Ori, I never thought I’d see the day.”
Then he leaves, not bothering to elaborate on his statement.
But there’s no way I’m letting that one go.
I run a hand through my hair, certain Ash wrecked any semblance of a style during our exuberant, but short-lived, tryst. “What did Braden mean by that?”
Ash shrugs as he adjusts himself, his erection unmistakable beneath his jeans. “Who knows? Spouting shit, as usual. Isn’t that what little brothers do?”
“I wouldn’t know. He has terrible timing, though.”
“Yes, he does.” Ash drums the shelf with his fingers, skewing his mouth to the side in an adorable smirk as his gaze wanders over me. “I better get out there.”
“Too bad I can’t convince you to stay.”
He gestures toward the pronounced bulge in his pants. “I’m sure you could, but I can’t guarantee how long I’d remain in business.”
I close the small distance between us, rising on tiptoe to steal a quick kiss. “But it would be so much fun.”
Before he can reply, I yank open the door, fully aware of the half-dressed hussies watching me as I exit the supply closet with Ash close behind .
Am I sorry for ruining their afternoon? Not one iota.
Ash started it, and if Braden hadn’t interrupted us, I sure as hell would have finished it.
Turning on my heel, I flash Ash a brilliant smile. “Have fun. Don’t miss me too much.”
But I know as I walk across the parlor, Ash’s gaze hot on me, that he’ll have one thing on his mind for the next few hours.
Me.