Page 11 of Royally Twisted

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Page 11 of Royally Twisted

“Ember painted that. He’s an artist with a gun or a brush.” Tymber placed his hands on her shoulders, speaking next to her ear. “I won’t tell you what else I’ve heard he’s good with.”

His warm breath fanning over her flesh sent a shiver of delight through her. “Hmm, well, I’m sure he’s all that and a bag of chips. How about you?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

Tymber dropped a kiss on her exposed neck. “I’m pretty good.”

A snort from behind them had her twisting around. The man who spoke had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen, his bad boy grin telling her more than words. “Well, I hope you’re better than good,” she quipped.

He took a step back, his hand trailing down her arm until he reached her hand. “Come over here and see what I’ve done.”

She let him lead her to his work station where several pieces of paper lay, the quote she’d told him she wanted on each piece, with a slightly different handwriting. “Did you do all these?” she gestured toward the drawings.

“I did two out of the four, Lincoln and Ember did the others. Tell me which you like the best, or if you don’t like any, we can start over.” As he spoke he tipped his head to where Link was.

Ivy noticed him leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, but she could feel tension crackling in the air. God, what if she chose one he hadn’t done? She gave herself a mental shake. This was her body that was being marked forever. Taking the time to study each piece, she kept going back to one in particular. The curling of certain letters made the design seem more...feminine. “This one,” she said pointing at the design she could already see on her rib cage.

A bright smile broke across Tymber’s face. “Perfect, that one is mine. So, where we inking you?”

Ivy unzipped her jacket, exposing what she wore beneath. “Right here,” she indicated her ribs.

“Damn, girl, that’s a sensitive place. You sure you want it there?”

Her eyes jumped upward, looking for the speaker. A gorgeous woman with long black hair parted to the side, showing the shaved half of her head strolled in from the back. Her tattoos were colorful, like the woman. “Oh, I want it there alright.” Her pain threshold was high, but even so, she was prepared for the feel of the needle.

The woman brought over some papers for her to fill out, making Tymber mutter under his breath. “I have a set here for her, Lux.” He pointed toward the papers lying on the desk.

“Yeah, but sometimes you forget. Did you happen to get one of these signed by your customer last night?” One dark, perfectly shaped brow winged up, challenging Tymber.

He raised his right hand, using his left he began making a rolling motion until his middle finger was extended. “Special circumstances, and for your info, he’s filled out the forms before.”

Ivy felt like she was watching a tennis match. “Do you two need a moment?” she questioned. The last thing she planned to do was become the middle to another love story, making it a triangle. Nope, she was done with that shit.

“Nah, Lux just thinks she’s the boss around here,” he teased, winking at Ivy. “Come on, let’s put this on you and see if you like the size and placement.”

The beautifully written words looked perfect after he peeled back the paper, leaving the outline on her side, just below her breasts and down to her hips. Her black sports bra served as a shirt under the jacket she’d had on, and even now lying on the table, she didn’t feel the slightest bit out of her comfort zone. The soft hum of the needle soothed her jagged soul, allowing her to float away while Tymber carefully worked on her tattoo. What seemed like only minutes later, she heard Tymber announce he was done. Her lids lifted. “I fell asleep,” she laughed.

“Yep, and you snore. I think Ember is jealous. Wanna see? I added some color around the feather of the pen, and a few more splotches, making it look like a watercolor like you’d described.”

She turned until she was sitting, getting her bearing under her. Once she was sure her legs would hold her, she hopped down and walked to the full length mirror. She lifted her arm so she could see the entire piece. “Holy shit, it’s gorgeous,” she said, not bothering to tamp down the awe she felt.

Tymber stood behind her, his hands still covered by black latex gloves. “I’m glad you like it. Who did the fairy on your back?”

Her shoulders lifted and fell while she kept her eyes pinned to his through the mirror. “One year down in Sturgis I got the bright idea to get a tattoo. The guys vetted the shop for me. I told him what I wanted, and he did a quick sketch, making the fairy appear like I wanted.”

Tymber traced her back, his fingers tickling her as if they were electric. “He was good.”

She nodded. “I think he was too scared not to...” She shut her mouth, not wanting to taint his relationship with the MC.

“I took the colors from it and incorporated it into this piece, figuring you’d like it.” Tymber became no nonsense, covering her with a gel, then a clear plastic was placed over it, secured by tape.

“We still on for dinner?” Ivy didn’t look at him while she asked, picking up her purse, digging her wallet out.

Tymber’s hand covered hers. “This one’s on me.”

She snorted. “Actually, it’s on me.” She tilted her chin down toward her side.

“Cute,” he rumbled. “Let’s get going, my stomach is eating my backbone.”

“Go on, we’ll give him shit when he comes back.” Lincoln winked, his hand pointed at her. “Don’t keep him out too late, though. He’s a grump when he doesn’t get his eight hours of beauty sleep a night.”


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