One Night of Trouble

Thanks to Brett, the man’s chubby, slightly hairy butt officially boasted two words: FUCK YOU.

Yep. The joy of being a tattoo artist. Some of the custom designs Brett had created over the years still boggled her mind, but she’d accepted that the tattoo business was a crazy one. People wanted what they wanted, and she gave it to them without question, judgment, or teasing. If a dude wanted to get the words fuck you inked on his ass cheek, who was she to deny him?

Still, she much preferred the clients who showed up with a general idea and then gave her permission to let her creativity soar. Most of the time, they were thrilled by the final design and didn’t request a single change. Other times, she had to redraw it dozens of times before the client found what they’d been looking for.

Lou, however, was easy to please. All of his tattoos were various lines of text, and he always tipped handsomely, which she appreciated.

“That’ll teach Cindy to tell me I have a fat ass,” he crowed. “Now I won’t even have to answer her. She’ll know exactly what I think of her bullshit criticism when she sees this.” Lou slapped his ink-free butt cheek before striding off to get his pants.

“Hey, no, you don’t,” Brett chided when he tried to get dressed. “You know the drill. Lay back down.”

“Aw, come on, I don’t need the bandage.”

“House rules, bud. We don’t let anyone leave without it.”

She’d barely finished her sentence when the bell rang in the main room. Crap. Lou was her last client of the night, and it was already five past nine. Since AJ didn’t work Mondays, they’d agreed to meet at her place at nine thirty, and she was dying to finish work so she could see him.

Without leaving her station, she gave a hasty shout toward the curtain. “I’ll be right with you.”

Rob had already left for the night, and though normally she felt comfortable closing up shop alone, her shoulders stiffened when she heard footsteps approaching the curtain.

It opened a slit, and her body relaxed when she found herself staring into a pair of familiar green eyes “Hey. It’s me,” AJ said softly. “Just didn’t want you to think it was a client. I’ll wait out here.”

He quickly disappeared, but his presence had already sent her pulse galloping. She wasn’t sure why he’d come, but she definitely wasn’t complaining. If anything, she was even more eager to get rid of Lou now.

She carefully attached the bandage to the man’s backside and waited for him to stand up so she could shoot him a stern glare. “Keep it covered for three hours, make sure you use the ointment I gave you last time, and try not to sit down for the first couple days.”

“I work in a toll booth, Tinkerbell. How the hell do you expect me not to sit down?”

Tinkerbell. It seemed like every client had their own nickname for her, most of which had to do with her size. She liked AJ’s nickname the best, though. Angel. Lord, just thinking about the way he drawled out the word made her tremble.

“Just keep off it when you can,” she said with a sigh. “Give it time to heal.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lou slipped into his pants, then reached for his wallet. He’d already paid her upfront for his tattoo, but now he pressed another wad of bills into her hand. “For you,” he said gruffly.

“Aw, thanks, Lou.”

He ruffled her hair and pulled her in for a bear hug, but there was nothing sexual about the embrace. Lou was well into his forties and treated her like a daughter. And she loved him to pieces. Clients as easygoing as him were hard to come by.

“Pop in next week so we can touch up your arm,” she told him as they stepped into the main room.

“Will do.” With a big grin and a nod in AJ’s direction, Lou left the shop.

The second the door closed behind him, Brett flicked the padlock and shut off the neon open sign. She smiled as she turned back to AJ, but the joy and humor faded when she noticed the expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded.

Without a word, he stalked over and yanked her toward him for a rough kiss. The tension seemed to seep from his shoulders the moment their lips touched, but when his tongue stole into her mouth with greedy precision, she could taste his need and desperation. Feel the urgency of his body as he pressed it against hers and rotated his hips.

When they broke apart, she was breathless. “Seriously, what’s gotten into you?”

“I had a crappy evening,” he admitted.

“Aw, that sucks. What happened?”

“Nothing worth talking about.” AJ cocked his head. “In fact, I don’t feel like talking about anything at all right now. I want you naked.”

Brett tried to hide her frustration as he deflected the question by using sex. She was starting to suspect that AJ Walsh harbored a lot of secrets.