“No. Sleeve first, then sternum.” Her tone is firm, but there’s a smile on her lips.
“Fine, fine. Sleeve first.”
Turning back to the inks, I prep all the colors Clover chose and the complementary colors for blending. Grabbing a disposable razor from one of the drawers along with a damp rag and a spray bottle of soapy water, I return to Clover, who’s made herself comfortable reclining in the chair.
“Okay, we need to shave your arm first.”
I take another fifteen minutes to get Clover’s arm shaven, clean, and everything wrapped with plastic for sanitation. The first time my needle touches her skin, everything around us disappears. Nothing exists in the world beyond Clover and me. Inking her skin is like painting the smoothest canvas—the ink soaking into her flesh colors vibrant and perfect in the lines of her art. My color painting her flowers and butterflies. The two marrying perfectly, creating a complete image. Perfect together.
Entranced so much by her and her art, I don’t speak much as I work in my own world. Clover watches me. I can see her out of the corner of my eye. She’s completely engrossed in my movements, watching every stroke of the needle, every dip of the gun in ink. She doesn’t whine or cry or complain about pain. Only wincing and biting her lip in sensitive areas. Her pain tolerance is extremely high. She’s been through so much pain in her life that a few needles in her arm barely register as uncomfortable.
After four hours of focused and quiet working, I’ve finally put the finishing touches on her tattoo. Wiping it clean before sitting back and announcing that I’m finished.
“Take a look.”
Gesturing to the full-length mirror on the back of the closed door, Clover stands and approaches it. Inspecting my work on her arm. Most of it she could see as I was working, but the areas on the backside of her arm she can see better in the mirror. She’s quiet as she examines her now complete sleeve. Colored ink spreads across her skin in a watercolor style over her fine line illustration tattoo. Leaving some areas of the skin open to breathe. The colors are perfect blue and pink butterflies, fuzzy yellow bumblebees, and flowers of almost every color—green tinting the vines and leaves. Her eyes land on the large sunflower on her bicep and stay there for a long moment. I took extra time perfecting the yellow to orange blend of each petal, wanting to make it perfect. She spent so much time on her drawing of the girl with the sunflowers growing from her head. I just had a feeling it was her favorite flower and wanted to make sure I did it justice.
“I love it, Nix. It’s perfect.” Her voice is barely above a whisper as she catches my eyes in the mirror, watching her.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“Thank you.” Turning, she faces me but does not move. Instead, I move around the leather chair and reach out for her. She takes my hand and allows me to pull her close. For a moment, we just stand there, staring at each other.
It’s so foreign to me to just want to be in the presence of someone. To desire their nearness. To feel so drawn to a person that being with them just makes you breathe easier. That’s what Clover does to me. Her presence soothes me and allows me to be in the moment. Having her was something I never thought I would need. Thinking I could quench my sexual thirst with one-night stands. Shoving any emotion that wasn’t anger or contempt down, never allowing myself to feel it. Clover has drawn out every emotion from me. Desire, joy, tranquility, jealousy, protection, love.
In the middle of our quiet moment together, Clover’s phone starts to ding from her purse.
“That’s my alarm,” Reaching for her purse, she pulls out her phone and silences the alarm. “I have to get going to work.”
“Right. Let me wrap up your arm for you.”
“Thanks.”
Once her arm is wrapped in plastic, I tape it down at the ends, but I don’t release her just yet.
“Before you go.” I start pulling her full attention to me. I need her to hear what I have to say next without distraction.
“Braxton was here today, and he gave me the strong impression that he hasn’t given up pursuing you yet.”
She visibly stiffens at the mention of Braxton. At least I know she’s taking me seriously when it comes to him. Thankfully, I was able to get to her before he did. If I allowed him to get close to her and something were to happen because I hadn’t stepped in, I would never forgive myself. And would kill Braxton, of course. By ripping off his arms and shoving one down his throat and one-up his ass.
“Oh.”
“I need you to be extra careful while he’s still in town.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, try not to go anywhere alone. Beau or I will give you a ride to work, and Rosie can always give you a ride home. And do not stay at home alone. Make sure one of us is with you at all times.”
“You really think he would do something to me? Knowing he would have to deal with you as a result.”
Pride swells in my chest, filling my heart with electricity. She believes in me and knows I can protect her. She knows I am not one to fuck with, and if he were to touch what belongs to me, he will pay a great price.
“Although I greatly appreciate your faith in me, I wouldn’t put anything past Braxton Shaw. He’s conceited and sadistic. He has no morals and isn’t afraid of much. Sometimes, even me. So, please just do this for me.”
My hands roam down her non-freshly tattooed arm and plead with her in their movements to agree with me. There are business commitments I have to keep to, and I can’t be with her at all times. Knowing she’s safe with one of my cousins will put me at ease. Her sparkling blue eyes look up at me warmly, and she quirks one side of her mouth up.
“Okay, Nix. I can do that.”
“Thank you.”
Pressing a kiss to her lips, I feel like she’s accepted me as hers and her as mine. Nothing and no one will come between us. And if they do, they are not going to like what happens.
Chapter 34
Clover
F ive days after Nix colored in my sleeve tattoo, I’m standing in the shower washing off some peeling from my now yellow and orange sunflower. Gently running my soapy hands over it, letting it wash off under the spray of the warm water. Anyone who’s had a tattoo knows not to peel it as it heals. You should let it peel off on its own when it’s good and ready. The shower is the best place to wash it off without risking the ink’s integrity pulling from the skin.
As I stand under the warm spray of water, my mind wanders through the last couple of days. I have literally not been alone for a single second of it. Admittedly, I don’t mind having a bedmate every night. Nix has taken it upon himself to crawl into my bed, claiming it is to safeguard me from anyone trying to sneak in through my window in the middle of the night. He knows very well that I am safe inside the house with them at night, and he doesn’t need to sleep in my bed. It doesn’t stop him though, I’m pretty sure he’s using it as an excuse. Not that either of us mind. Most nights, we spend a good amount of it naked before passing out from exhaustion.
At first, I was a little reluctant about his sudden change in demeanor. When we first met, he seemed to want nothing to do with me. He was actively trying to remove me from his father’s bar and avoided me around the house at all costs. With every day we spent together, he relaxed, loosened up around me. Let down his guard and showed me his true self. Culminating on that night, he literally carried me out of the club and brought me home. Sex with Nix is exhilarating and everything I fantasized it would be. Passionate, rough, hard, spine-tingling, mind-melting, multiple orgasm-inducing, and also sweet and soft at times. Seeming to always know what I want, what I need, and then giving it to me. My arousal and ensuing world-shattering orgasms only fuel his own desires and wants, pushing him past his own limits.
Most nights after our avid fucking, Nix curls up behind me, pulling me to his chest. Tightening his arms around my waist and holding me tenderly, running his hands over my naked body. Softly and affectionately lulling me to sleep in his embra
ce. I drift off to the feel of his warm skin against mine. Enveloped in the sound of his soft breathing in my ear as the smell of his lust fills my nose. He makes me feel safe, like nothing, and no one can ever harm me.
I don’t really know what we are, but we are something. We haven’t exactly told anyone about us either. At least, I don’t think Nix has. I haven’t been able to tell Rosie or even Beau about us. However, the looks Beau gives me are knowing. Grinning behind his coffee mug, sideways glances in passing. He even winked at me one morning. Most likely, he heard us going at it like rabid bunnies. Nix doesn’t exactly hide the fact he’s sleeping in my room every night.
I don’t know why I can’t outright tell them. Perhaps I’m not sure how they would react, knowing I am sleeping with their man-whore cousin. They love Nix. I know that much. But they also know how he is when it comes to women. Not sure they would approve of our, whatever it is. I can’t quite call it a relationship. Nix doesn’t do relationships. Friends with benefits? Fuck buddies? Nighttime bed pals? Roommates?
Unexplainable fluttering flows through my chest. Panic? Fear? That that’s all Nix wants from me. A good fuck. A bed pal to keep him company and fulfill his needs. My heart thuds wildly behind my ribs. That’s not all I want. It never was, and I knew that I wouldn’t want to give him up once I had him. Will he give me up? Toss me aside like one of his bar bunnies when he’s through with me.
Rubbing my hands over my face and through my hair, I shake off the uneasiness I’ve brought upon myself. I can’t think about that now, not yet. Just live in the moment, Clover. Enjoy it while you can. Don’t force anything. It’ll only scare Nix. He’s a man that’s never had a real relationship with a woman. Thrusting anything on him before he has a chance to acclimate will only push him away.
Deep in my own thoughts, I don’t hear the door to the bathroom open and the heavy footsteps enter. Turning the nob, I shut off the water and step out of the shower.
“Ahhh.” I shriek as I come face to face with the man I’ve been mulling over for the last half hour in the shower.
“Dammit, Nix. You almost gave me a heart attack, you ass. Why didn’t you say something?” Gripping my chest, I try to catch my breath and slow my pounding heart. Adrenaline flooding my body at the sudden shock to my system.
“Sorry. I needed to talk to you before I left and waiting in here has a much better view than waiting in the hall.” Humor and appreciation lace his words.
It’s then that I realize I’m still completely naked, dripping wet, and standing in the middle of the bathroom while Nix looks on, enjoying the show. Since he’s seen me naked half a dozen times by now, I’m not embarrassed in the least. Standing tall, I lift my chin and my chest, placing my hands on my hips—cocking a hip, defiantly staring down, or rather up, at Nix.
“Are you going to hand me a towel?”
“Hmmm. I don’t think so. I like you just like this.” One side of Nix’s mouth quirks up as he looks me up and down slowly.
“Will you hand me a towel, please?” Extending one hand out to him, I wait for him to give me one of the towels hanging on the rack behind him.
Ever so slowly, he slides one off the bar, holding it in his hand as he approaches me. Almost touching me but not, he stops and stares down at me. I have to crane my neck almost all the way back to look him in the eyes. He’s so tall compared to me. Without speaking, he drapes the towel around my shoulders and pulls it closed in the front.
“I can’t talk to you when you’re naked anyway. Too distracting.”
I can tell just how distracting by the size of the bulge in his pants—a triumphant little smirk quirks my lips. Being able to distract Nix is something I have grown to appreciate. Nix’s eyes blaze with longing. Instead of taking me up against the bathroom wall, he steps back, allowing me to dry off.
“So, what is it that was so important you had to burst in on me in the shower?” I glance at him, wrapping the towel around my body, securing it at my chest.
“Other than wanting to see you naked? I have a job tonight. An important delivery. I won’t be able to take you to work.”
“Okay, I’ll just have Beau give me a ride then, or Rosie. It’s not a problem.”
“I should be back in time to drive you home from the bar, though.”
“Okay.” Shaking my head at his way over-the-top protectiveness. You’d think there was a hit out on my life or something. I chuckle under my breath.
“You know I can drive myself? I’ve taken the Camaro before.”
“I know, but right now, you can’t. Not till Braxton leaves town. I told you.” His voice stern and commanding, yet still filled with concern and overbearing protectiveness, I’m quickly learning he saves only for his family and me.
“You don’t trust him. I know, I know.” Picking up my brush, I pull it through my wet hair, trying to detangle the thick locks.
Nix appears behind me in the mirror, wrapping his arms around my waist, and sighs.
“Please, chipmunk, just do as I ask. It’ll make me feel better about leaving you tonight.”
Leaning back into his chest, the hard ridges of his muscles press gently into my back. We haven’t been close for very long, but I feel safe with him. I can’t help but do as he asks. Especially when he asks so nicely and calls me chipmunk. Speaking of which.
“Why do you call me chipmunk?”
A sly grin spreads across his lips as I watch his reflection in the mirror.
“Because you like to fill your cheeks with food and make faces at me. You look like a sexy rabid chipmunk when you do.”
“I do not.” Slamming the brush down on the counter, I gawk at him.
“Yes, you do. But it’s okay. I like my rabid little chipmunk. She’s got spunk.”
“Haha.” Realistically of all the nicknames he could have given me, chipmunk really isn’t that bad. It could most definitely be worse. Honestly, I like that he gave me a nickname, especially because he thinks I’m cute with spunk. Better than because I am an annoying buck-toothed woodland creature or something.
“So, you’ll let Beau drive you to work?” He asks into my hair, close to my ear. His tone sweet and smooth, using all his sexy manliness to convince me to do what he wants.
“Yes, I’ll let Beau drive me to work. Don’t worry, mom, I’ll be a good little girl and let my chaperone escort me.”
“Thank you, sweet cheeks.” With a soft kiss on my neck, his arms tighten around me.
Phoenix Colton has become quite a conundrum. All hard edges and anger on the outside, but sweet soft goo on the inside. Who would have guessed? The mountain of muscles’ largest muscle is his heart. I don’t even think Nix knows he has such a big heart.
With one large finger, he tilts my head up to look up over my shoulder at him, and he presses his lips to mine. Seeking that connection, we’ve both grown to yearn for the other. Finding something real in a place we never imagined, with someone we never thought possible. But is it real? It feels real to me. Is it real to him?
His lips linger on mine as the kiss softens to light feather touches. Of all the ways he kisses me, this is the one that weakens my knees and turns my insides to jelly. Stirring the buzzing bumblebees inside my heart, creating a hum throughout my entire body. No man has ever made me feel the way Phoenix Colton does. His hard desire and commanding presence mixed with his soft kisses and tender words.
“So, I’ll see you at the bar later?” I ask between exhales.
“I guarantee it.”
“Good.”
With one final brush of his lips against mine, he releases me and heads for the door.
“Be good, little chipmunk.”
“No promises.”
“That’s my girl.”
“Be safe, Nix.”
“Don’t you worry about me—I’ll be just fine.”
With a wink, he’s gone, leaving me to dry off and dress alone. I can’t not worry about him. I know he’s a tough, macho man, but he’s my macho man. Worrying is
what women do for their men—their heart, their soul, their other half. It’s in our nature to want to protect. That’s all I want is to protect his soft heart that he doesn’t even know he possesses.
An hour later, I’m making my way downstairs when my phone rings in my pocket. Pulling it out, the caller ID reads Rosie.
“Hey, Rosie.”
“Hey, honey.” Her southern accent is strong today, and I love every sickeningly sweet rounded-out vowel.
“What’s up?”
“Not much, just gettin’ ready for work.”
“Same.” I plop myself down on the couch near the kitchen as I talk to Rosie. It’s awfully quiet. Shouldn’t Beau be down here by now?
“So, I heard Nix and Zander have a job tonight?” I can hear her shuffling around in the background. Probably lacing up her customary corset. I don’t know how she manages to wear them day in and day out. Seems like torture to me. But she loves them.
“Yeah, Nix left about an hour ago.”
“Cool. So, I’ll be over in about thirty to come pick you up then.”
“Pick me up? Why?” Even though she can’t see me, I make a face as if she could.
“To give you a ride to work.”
“I was just going to catch a ride from Beau.”
“Beau is at the bakery with Lily.”
No wonder it was so quiet here. Because I’m the only one home. Nix is not gonna be happy about that. Not much he can do about it now.
“I didn’t even know he had left.”
“Yeah, Lily asked him to have some dinner with her and Magnus at the bakery. So, he called me to see if I could give you a ride.”
“This is ridiculous. I can drive myself to the bar in the Camaro. It’s not that far. Making you come out of your way to get me is silly.”
I know I promised Nix I would stay with my chaperone but making Rosie drive out here to get me then drive us both to the bar is just stupid rude. I can drive to the bar and then ride home with Nix. Being alone for a ten-minute drive won’t kill me. And don’t they say it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission?
Phoenix (The Colton Cousins Book 1) Page 26
