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“That’s not possible,” a woman’s nasally voice whines back, “everyone wants me.”
“Not me. I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last woman on earth. I’d rather see the extinction of humans than do a damn thing with you,” he growls.
My eyes widen at his proclamation, and then a woman is flying out the door. I barely make it out of her way, and she doesn’t look at me twice, embarrassment coloring her cheeks as she mutters curses and stomps down the hall in full tantrum mode.
I step into the doorway of Tyler’s space and my eyes immediately take in the art on the walls. Some are bright and others are grayscale. I’m so focused on the art, awe filling me because of the man’s talent, I don’t notice Tyler stop a few feet in front of me.
“Rebel?” His husky voice washes over me, and I shiver as my eyes snap to his. His lips tilt up just slightly on the side quickly—an almost smile. “What are you doing here?”
I arch an eyebrow, and step into the room. “It’s my understanding, from the guy at the front desk, I’m allowed to stop by anytime,” I sass him.
“You are, that’s not what I meant,” he talks so fast his words kind of blend together.
I smile up at him and step closer, his own movements matching mine until we’re barely touching. “I just wanted to come by and see you.” I lift the bag I’m holding. “I brought lunch. I wasn’t sure if you’d have time to eat with me. If you don’t, that’s fine. I can leave it for when you have time.”
Tyler reaches out and wraps his hand around the back of my neck, his fingers digging in deliciously and making it difficult to hold onto the food. I’m going to need both hands to climb this man and if the food gets destroyed in the process, I doubt I’d be sad about it.
“You brought me food?” There’s something swimming in Tyler’s steely depths which has my breath hitching in my chest as I nod. “Hellcat,” he murmurs.
Then his lips are on me, devouring me, taking, claiming, thanking. I melt into him, wanting everything he’s giving me and so much more. I get lost in kissing him, in the flavor of him, in the way he feels against my body.
I never want to stop kissing this man.
CHAPTER 5
MONK
I can’t tear my eyes away from my woman. She’s so damn perfect. Part of me is afraid I’m going to break her. Not just because I’m so much bigger than her, but because of the darkness always pressing down on my soul.
Last night, while I tossed and turned in my bed, I was expecting the memories to be oppressive, but they weren’t quite as bad as they were before I met Rebel. I know it doesn’t make any fucking sense, but it’s true. There’s no reason for the little bit of light she shined down on me to have chased away as much pain as she did, but I can’t deny it.
Now she’s here.
I almost can’t believe it.
Even after eating the lunch that she brought for me, for us, I swear I can still taste her on my tongue. I want to kiss her again. Hell, I want to devour her.
I was not expecting her to show up at my shop so soon, but it didn’t stop me from telling my staff when I got in today that Rebel never has to wait to see me. I glared at the two artists who work for me and Denny, who works reception.
There was a warning in my voice, “Rebel is mine. My old lady. If she comes in here, you are to treat her with respect.”
I didn’t have to say that they better not fucking touch her. All their eyebrows shot up, especially Kameron who is a damn good tattooist and artist. She also tried to flirt with me when I hired her two years ago. I shut that shit down as professionally as I could, but she tried to push it a few times.
I knew what Kameron was thinking with my declaration about Rebel being mine, but I didn’t give a single fuck. I couldn’t have known the right woman would change my mind and my outlook about everything. I sure as hell hadn’t expected it to happen.
I was fine with being alone.
I was content with my continued existence in purgatory.
Then I was sent on an errand, and everything changed. I’m still not sure which way is up yet. I have a feeling, with Rebel in my life, I’ll always be a little off balance. And I’m surprisingly okay with it.
Rebel balls up the wrappers from the sandwich and chips she just finished and puts her trash in the bag she brought with her. I follow suit, watching intently as her eyes move around my space. I have my art on the walls and love the way her eyes light up as she takes in each piece.
“You have a lot of ink, but I’ve never seen you in my shop,” I mumble.
“I’ve never been here before,” she admits while shrugging one shoulder. “I should have been though, you’re amazing, Tyler.”
Warmth blooms in my chest as I eye her hands. I desperately want to see where she has ink and where she doesn’t. I want to explore every mark on her body and demand she tell me who touched her for each one.
