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At least he knew when to leave me the hell alone.
This morning’s event has left a bad taste in my mouth, simply because of the questions that keep rolling through my brain. Ones that I know I’ll never get the answers to, considering the last thing I wanna do is talk to the boy and find out.
Ain’t happening.
But with my belongings retrieved, the guard at my door, and the shitty words I spewed at Fin yesterday, I would say that I’m set to make it through the day without incident pertaining to the male suitors I’ve had, or wished I had in my life.
Thank God.
So why do I wonder what Fin would do if he knew?
“Hey, baby.” Freezing with one gloved hand trying to cover the second one, I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
Spoke too soon.
“You have two options,” I growl as I lean my head back and have to stretch out the growing tension in my neck from one side to the other. “Either walk out right now or shut your mouth and pay double.”
“Wow, good to see you, too.” Trey’s words fall off his thick lips with a chuckle I’ve heard and send a chill—not the good kind—down my spine.
The air shifts when he settles into the chair behind me and I run a quick pass of my tongue over my lips before I spin to face him.
Ava’s apologetic and knowing gaze meets mine over the top of Trey’s stretched-out frame.
‘Charge double,’I mouth to my receptionist, who tips her chin and I roll my eyes.
Because the last thing I need is to toss him out and gain myself more attention about the guys I’ve slept with.
The world doesn’t need to know about this one.
“I’ve stood in your line for three damn days, baby. I’m ready.”
Pulling in a deep as hell breath, I let the oxygen lift my shoulders and expand my chest before puffing out my cheeks and shaking my head.
“I am so going to make this one hurt.”
Trey’s deep chuckle insults my eardrums, and he stretches farther back in my chair and grins. “Do your worst.”
So I fucking do.
Trey picks the biggest piece I have in the sample book, and when I lean in with the heavy hand and the deep needle strokes so I don’t have to use my own strength to hold myself up, he squirms.
The shading to this one takes almost an hour of working the ink into the taut skin of his ribs, which only makes me grin the more he hisses and taps his leg as a distraction to keep the rest of him still.
He was warned.
“Good God, I need a drink,” he mumbles through clenched teeth that make me giddy as I pass over the sensitive skin for another layer of shading. “You’re killin’ me, woman.”
“Huh.” I shrug and swirl the tattoo gun over the flesh that pricks with blood, only to hear Ava try her best to stifle her giggle.
Incoherent arguing perks my ears up as the hum from the tattoo gun pauses and words I don’t understand begin to filter through the noise of the show going on around us.
Intrigued by the possibility of a fight—probably because I’m a little messed up in the head—I lay off the pedal controlling the device in my hand and cock my head in the direction I think the argument is coming from.
“Who the fuck are you?”
My spine snaps straight as the deep growl penetrates the canvas of my tent, the voice clear, the rage clearer still.
“Depends on who the fuck you think you are to ask.”
