Chapter 6
Six
VIOLET
I’ve just finished sanitizing my workspace before walking into the employee break room to grab a protein bar and take a breath.
I’m exhausted.
Despite the best sex ever, along with an already long day, I didn’t sleep much.
I tossed and turned and thought of nothing but Mateo.
Finally, I started doing some searches on him this morning.
Of course, the fight club wasn’t mentioned at all, but I did find out that he owns fitness centers and a café.
Those were the first few search results, so I went to breakfast to see if he’d show up at the restaurant, but no luck.
However, someone paid for my meal, and it felt like there were eyes watching me the whole time I was there.
Paranoid.
I’ve been paranoid since Rose was taken, and I don’t see that changing any time soon. I’m sure someone was just being nice.
I’m alone back in the work area until about three, when a few co-artists will show up. There’s always a receptionist out in the lobby, but most of my coworkers are here late into the night, thriving on walk-ins who stop in off the Strip.
I prefer a schedule. So, I take the earlier-in-the-day appointments, and I don’t mind being back here alone part of my shift.
The door from the lobby opens, and Lucy, one of the daytime receptionists, gestures for someone to walk in.
“Here you go. Let me know if you need anything.” She smiles sweetly, and then the customer walks in, and it’s a good thing that Lucy just shut the door because I do not want her to see the way my mouth is currently hanging open.
“Hey there, Savage,” Mateo says with a wink.
“I have a client coming in.”
“I know. I’m the client. Sorry for the little white lie. Obviously, I’m not Max, but I didn’t want you to hang up on me.”
I press my lips together, my heart pounding in my chest. Fuck.
“How did you find me?” Thank God my voice sounds strong.
“I have my ways. I have a bone to pick with you.”
I back away when he reaches up to brush my hair with his fingers, and he frowns at me.
“You should go.”
“Not happening. Now, that bone.”
My eyes immediately fall to his crotch, and Mateo barks out a laugh.
“Okay, two bones, then.” He shakes his head. “You’re a dirty girl, Savage. I fucking love it.”
I study him as I work to suck in air and keep my face calm.
“You didn’t have to schedule an appointment just to throw it in my face that you know who I am.”
“No, but I do need an appointment if I want a tattoo.” He grins and whips his black T-shirt off, and for fuck’s sake.
Warn a girl.
“I have space right here.” He brushes his hand over his ribs, just under his arm on his right side.
“Let me guess. Someone’s name? Tribal ink? ‘Live, Laugh, Love’?”
His eyes narrow on me. “None of that. I want a pocket watch with the hands set to 12:37.”
I lift an eyebrow, intrigued. “Okay. Do you want the chain as well?”
“Yep, and it snakes down my side to my hip.”
Nodding, I look at his skin, so tanned and smooth. “Got it. Give me ten.”
I turn to walk away, but he follows me.
“I can draw this without you.”
“But you can also draw it with me.” He reaches up to tuck my hair back again, but I duck out of his way, and he clenches his jaw. “Why won’t you let me fucking touch you?”
“I don’t ever let clients touch me.”
That has all humor fleeing from his face, and he steps into me, nudges my chin up, and leans down to say into my ear, “I know what you sound like when you come all over my cock, Violet. We’re not strangers.”
I clear my throat and pull out of his grip, not looking him in the face.
I don’t know what his game is. Is he going to hurt me for drugging him? Does he even realize that’s what happened?
Maybe he just thinks that he fell asleep. He did fight last night, so maybe he was tired.
I get to work sketching what I have in my head on my iPad, trying to ignore the way Mateo hovers, but there is no ignoring someone like this man.
He’s undeniable.
“Fuck, you’re good,” he murmurs, his breath on my neck. “I like the vintage look. Can you make it look 3D like that?”
I simply lift a brow and look up at him, and he holds his hands up in surrender.
“I don’t tell you how to run your fight club.”
“What fight club?” His smile is wide, and his eyes dare me to elaborate.
I simply shake my head and put the finishing touches on the piece.
“Have a look. Is there anything you want to change?”
He takes the pad from me, and his brow creases as he takes it in. “No, it’s perfect.”
“Excellent. Let’s get started.”
How am I going to touch him for the next hour or more and not want him?
He has a seat on my table, and I get to work setting up the machine and needles, sanitizing as I go.
Mateo lifts his arm and lies back, and I shave the area, then wipe it clean, and damn it.
My core is already humming. It’s like my whole body is now addicted to him after just one night together.
I want him.
And when I glance up, he’s watching me with warmth in his brown eyes.
“You don’t seem mad,” I say softly.
He lifts a brow. “What do I have to be mad about?”
I will not be admitting to drugging him right out the gate. “I wasn’t there when you woke up this morning.”
“True.” He nods slowly, watching as I choose the ink. “And there’s the whole roofie thing.”
I pause for a heartbeat, and then keep working, not looking him in the face.
“At least you didn’t rob me blind.”
Scowling, I do meet his gaze now. “I’m not a fucking thief.”
“Good to know.” He smirks. “How long have you been doing this?”
“I’ve never drugged someone before.”
He chuckles and points to my machine.
“Tattooing, Savage.”
I blink at the shift in topic and set the stencil on his side. “About seven years. Go look in the mirror and make sure this is where you want it.”
“It’s fine.”
He doesn’t even look down.
“I’m serious, Mateo, please make sure I’ve placed it right. I can’t erase it and start over after I’ve started.”
“I said it’s fine. I trust you.”
He trusts me.
I frown up at him, and his lips twitch, but he doesn’t waver, so I get started.
He sighs as he relaxes back, and I pick up some ink and might press a little harder than necessary.
“Ouch.”
“Don’t be a baby.” The ribs hurt. Showing some mercy, I lighten my touch, and he settles back down.
“Are you from Vegas?” he asks.
“No.”
I don’t elaborate as I wipe his skin and pick up more ink.
“Where are you from?”
He’s so patient. I don’t know why that annoys me so much. Shouldn’t he be angry? Shouldn’t he want to never see me again, or report me to someone, or . . . something?
“Seattle.”
“What brings you down here?”
I clear my throat. I need to find my sister, and I’m fifty-fifty on whether or not you took her.
“Wanted a change of pace. Warmer weather.”
“Hmm.” He goes quiet, and then he murmurs, “I’m going to touch you.”
My eyes meet his as he reaches up with his free hand to brush his fingertips down my cheek.
“You’re so fucking soft, I couldn’t resist.”
“Do you flirt with every person who tattoos you?”
His smile is easy and makes my stomach tighten. “Nope. Just the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Having your fingers on me is torture, you know.”
“You’re the one who asked for the ink.”
“No regrets, but damn it, I’d like to fuck you on this table.”
I sit back and level a look at him. “I never fuck where I work.”
Those brown orbs narrow for just a heartbeat. “Not a bad policy to have. Let me take you to dinner tonight.”
Shaking my head, I get back to work. I’m halfway done with this piece, and I have to admit, it’s going to be cool as hell. “I’m flattered, but no thanks.”
“You don’t eat dinner?”
“I have plans.”
“Cancel them.”
“No.”
“Look at me.”
I lift my gaze to his and expect to find him mad, but he’s not. He’s smiling softly, as if he finds me adorable.
Who is this guy?
“Let me feed you, Savage.”
“I can’t.” I work on the chain, and when I get to the waist of his jeans, he unfastens them and shimmies them down so I can keep going, and that V on his hip taunts me.
Suddenly, I want to lick him there.
Stop it.
When I think I’m finished, Mateo shakes his head.
“You’re not done.”
“What else is there?”
“That chain loops down around my dick.”
Stunned, I push back, scowling at him. “Mateo, that’ll hurt like hell.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve had worse.” He shimmies his jeans all the way off, his pierced, semihard cock on full display, and indicates where he wants the chain to go.
“I’m not tattooing your balls.”
Jesus, those are words I never thought I’d say.
Mateo smirks. “No, baby, but it’s going to look like it loops down there.”
I see what he’s looking for, and then I have to cleanse and shave him some more before I lay down a stencil and go back to work.
“My coworkers will be coming in soon, and you’re on display.”
“Are you afraid they’ll ogle me? Don’t worry, Savage, you’re the only girl for me.”
I snort out a laugh and shake my head, not even looking him in the face. “Sure I am.”
Five minutes later, I’ve finished with the chain, and I tell him to go look in the mirror, but again, he ignores me.
“Mateo, it’s important to me that you go have a look.”
With that, he frowns and stands. “Those were the magic words.”
He lifts that arm again, and takes in the watch and the chain, and with a satisfied smile on his perfect mouth, he nods.
“This is perfect.” He turns to grin at me, but the smile fades the longer he looks at me. “Dinner. Tonight.”
“You’re not told no very often, are you?”
“Never.”
I believe him.
“You know, I’m really a one-and-done kind of girl.”
But for him, I might want more. If I wasn’t concerned that he might be the reason my sister has been gone for seven freaking years. The chemistry is off the charts.
His brown eyes heat, and it’s not with humor or lust.
That pissed him off.
“I don’t give a fuck what you are with anyone else. But I’ll give you time, if that’s what you need.”
“Time won’t change anything.”
“Time changes everything.” He winks at me as I cover the tattoo up. “How much for this?”
I never ask for payment from friends, and although we definitely aren’t friends, I don’t feel right asking him to pay me.
“It’s on the house.”
“I’ll pay the receptionist, then.” He moves to leave but then stomps back to me, and before I can react, he has my face in his hands and he’s kissing the life out of me. His mouth is soft, but the kiss is confident and hungry, and his tongue sweeps over mine.
He growls deep in his throat before he pulls his lips away, and then he brushes his thumb over my mouth almost reverently.
“I’ll see you soon,” is all he says before he grabs his shirt and walks out of the room.
Before the door closes, my coworker Catnip—yes, that’s his government name, thanks to hippie parents—walks in, looking back at Mateo as he does. Then Catnip looks at me and frowns.
“What did he want?”
“A tattoo.”
Catnip sets his stuff down at his station and crosses his arms over his chest. “Do you know who that is?”
Not as much as I’d like to.
“He’s a client.”
“He’s a Mafia king,” he counters, and I feel my blood go cold and leave my face. “One of the Kings of Vegas. There are four of them. He’s into some crazy shit, Lettie. You’ll want to watch yourself if you’re on his radar. How did he hear about you, anyway?”
“No idea, he called and scheduled the appointment this morning.”
“Take my advice and don’t schedule any more with him.”
He turns to walk away, and I have to swallow down the nerves suddenly making my stomach dance.
Shit.