by Amiee Louise
“I’m just going to make a stencil, and we can get started.”
I move across the shop towards the thermal copier machine, and I can feel his eyes burning into me. Seb is also at the machine making his stencil.
“Are you okay, babe? I saw the little stumble as you got up. Is someone in love?”
Seb raises his eyebrows and laughs teasingly. I punch him on the arm and frown.
“No, of course not, don’t be stupid. He is just like any other client.”
Seb nods sceptically.
“Hmm, yeah, of course he is, babe. If he was, you wouldn’t be blushing like crazy right now.”
My hand automatically goes to my face.
“See, you do like him. I’ve never seen a guy affect you so much. There’s nothing wrong with that, but just be careful, though, honey. Yeah?”
I smile and nod. Seb, bless him, always looking out for me. I must make an effort to be more professional around Sam. If Seb noticed, then obviously his bandmates have spotted it too. Seb brushes my arm reassuringly as he goes back to his station. I put my design on the thermal copier machine and punch in the correct size. I wait for the stencil to come through the machine and take it back to my station, mentally cursing myself for not asking him before I made the stencil where on his body he wants the tattoo. Really professional, Harper.
He is in deep conversation with the guy that came in with them. I’m assuming he is the infamous John ‘Johnnie Diamond’ Dalton. He is a tall, lean man with a slightly tanned complexion, black hair in an old-fashioned side parting, dark-brown eyes, and black-rimmed glasses. If I were to guess his age, I would put him around late thirties. He and Sam are talking in hushed tones as I approach. There is something in the way Johnnie is looking at Sam that doesn’t sit well with me. He has his hand firmly and protectively on Sam’s arm. I can’t quite put my finger on his strange behaviour and odd body language. However, I dismiss the thought immediately. They stop as I get closer and both turn to smile at me.
“Peyton, let me introduce you. This is our manager.”
I nod, and he regards me intently with his beady brown eyes.
“Johnnie Diamond, right?”
He smiles a bright-white, dazzling smile, and it is so white I am almost blinded.
“John or J.D, please, sweetheart. Pleasure to meet you, Peyton. Such a beautiful name for such a beautiful lady,” he says in a prominent East London accent. He shakes my hand, and I smile politely.
“Pleased to meet you too, J.D.” I look to Sam. “Are you ready?”
He smirks and nods enthusiastically. “I was born ready, babe!”
Why does he see innuendo in everything I say? Bloody men! I sit down in my leather chair and set up my tattoo machine. A deep-purple, personalised, Micky Sharpz Iron Hybrid machine with silver tribal patterns and my initials, P.H, on the top encrusted in Swarovski crystals. This was a gift from Seb after finishing my apprenticeship. It is the most thoughtful gift I have ever received, and I haven’t used another tattoo machine since. Some people have lucky pants and lucky socks; I have my lucky tattoo machine.
“So, where are we putting this design, Sam?”
He pats his large, muscular, calf muscle. My face suddenly flames at the thought of a gorgeous man like him sitting inches away from me in just his boxers. He senses my embarrassment.
“I have some shorts on the bus to change into. Don’t look so worried, babe.”
He laughs so hard he clutches his toned stomach, lifting his t-shirt slightly, so I get a glimpse of his defined six-pack and hard-ridged abs. I lick my lips at the sight, and he smirks, knowing he is having an effect on me. Arrogant bastard.
“Yo, Bolt, dude, are you making that chick all hot and bothered? I can see her flushing from here!”
Lucas shouts in an American drawl from the waiting area across the shop. I’m glad my embarrassment amuses you, Bolt. I think back to our earlier conversation, “He has lightning bolt tattooed on his arse.” I start to fantasize about seeing him naked, and I bite my lip subconsciously at the thought.
“She looks like she is having naughty thoughts about you, mate!”
Brody teases from the tattoo chair, and all the other band members laugh apart from Jax who is giving a look of disapproval to Brody. I sense a mutual feeling of rivalry between the two bandmates.
“Better not disappoint then had I, babe?” Sam winks and gets up. “I’ll be right back, I need to change.”
He gets up and sprints out of the shop, flanked by his bodyguard. I get the tattoo ink ready into small pots and set them up at my station. I need an emergency pep talk with Ruby.
“I’ll be two seconds, Seb.”
He salutes as he has already started tattooing Brody. I go into the back of the shop and pull my mobile out of my bag. I have three missed calls from Ruby; I dial her number from my purple iPhone 6s. She answers on the second ring.
“Hey, babe. Finally, I’ve been trying to call you.”
I clear my throat. “Hey, Rubes, it’s been such a … hectic start to the morning. I’m sorry, babe.”
“Oooh, come on. Spill.” She giggles.
“We’re tattooing the guys from Rancid Vengeance.”
Ruby practically squeals down the phone.
“Oh, my fucking God. Why didn’t you call me sooner, babe? You know I fucking love that band. The guitarist Flash is so bloody hot!” she says dramatically, and I roll my eyes to myself. Ruby gets stupidly excited about random stuff, and she is obsessed with celebrity gossip. I never see her without the latest copy of OK! Magazine.
“So, come on, what are they like? Who are you tattooing? I want all the gossip!” she says in a rush, and I pause for a moment. God, this girl can be so exasperating at times.
“Peyton, are you still there, babe?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here, they’re … really cool. Interesting guys. I’m tattooing Sam and Jax.”
She screams again, and I hold the phone away from my ear.
“Fucking hell, Rubes, calm down, I do need my hearing, you know!” I laugh nervously.
“You’ve got a crush, haven’t you?”
I forgot that Ruby could read me like a book. That girl literally knows me better than I know myself sometimes, and she knows what I’m thinking before I even think it. It is actually quite scary at times. I lower my voice.
“Ruby, Sam is seriously, ridiculously, smoking hot; I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.”
I put my hand to my head, and she laughs.
“I know, he is beyond hot. I love his voice, it’s amazing, and I could practically orgasm just listening to him.”
She sighs dramatically, and I lean heavily against the wall.
“What do I do, Rubes? I’m literally losing my mind around him, and I’ve tripped over my own feet and made a complete tit of myself,” I say in a rush, glad to offload to her. She laughs again.
“There’s nothing wrong with having a crush, babe. Does he like you, too?”
I let out a breath. “He keeps making innuendo and flirting outrageously. Seriously, I swear, that boy has no shame.”
She shrieks, “Oh, my God, he does like you! You two are going to make seriously beautiful babies! Please, please, can I be a bridesmaid?”
It’s my turn to laugh; I knew talking to Ruby would give me the boost I needed.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, babe, he is probably like that with all of the women he meets. Look I can’t meet you for lu—”
Before I have finished my sentence, she jumps in. “Fuck that, I’m coming to the shop! I’ll be there in ten, love ya.”
Before I get a chance to protest, she has hung up. I put my phone away and go back out into the shop. Sam is sitting in the chair with his arms cockily folded behind his head, and he has changed into denim, cut-off shorts. His bare legs are crossed lazily at the ankle. He smiles as I approach from the back room.
“Sorry about that, are you ready?”
He nods, and that familiar smirk c
rosses his face again. I crouch down on the floor and place the stencil on his leg, careful not to linger too long on his perfect, powerful, tanned, muscular leg. I pat his leg, feeling that all too familiar electricity run through me as I touch him. I peel off the stencil with a trembling hand, and the outline is there for me to follow.
“Do you want to look in the mirror to see if the positioning is good?”
He looks at me. “Positioning looks good from up here, babe,” he says suggestively, and our eyes lock. I can sense the sexual energy between us, and I instantly know there would be fireworks in the bedroom. I feel liquid heat between my legs, and my nipples start to harden underneath my vest top. I get to my feet and brush the thoughts aside. I pat the leather bed.
“Could you hop up here for me, please?”
He gets up and leaps enthusiastically onto the bed. He turns on his side, leaning on his elbow, and his long legs stretching out in front of him. “Like this?” he whispers huskily, and I understand what Ruby meant about his voice driving her to orgasm.
He smirks and seems to be getting off on making me squirm under his gaze and his sheer proximity. I put on my black rubber gloves and clip my hair away from my face. , I start the tattoo machine, and begin tattooing him, fully aware of his red-hot gaze on me. This is going to be a very long day.
4
Peyton
I am halfway through outlining Sam’s leg, and we are both silent throughout. The awkward silence is broken by the bell on the shop door sounding. In breezes Ruby, her pink, leopard-print, Paul’s Boutique handbag on her arm and three of cups of coffee in a Starbucks tray.
“Hey, sweetie.”
She comes over to my station, and I finish the line I am tattooing. I stop for a break, pulling off my gloves and setting them down on the table.
“Hey, babe.”
She kisses me on the cheek, and I am suddenly filled with the sweet, familiar scent of her Ed Hardy perfume and feel a calm confidence just from her presence. I instantly feel better and perk up; I feel more like myself again.
“I bought you some coffee; I thought you could do with a break.”
Seb looks over smiling. I roll my eyes, and he shakes his head. That girl could exasperate any sane person. It’s lucky I have known her for so long, even though I wouldn’t have her any other way.
“I bought one for you too, Seb.”
She puts on her sweetest smile and takes his coffee over to him, her heels clicking across the shop floor. Jax’s eyes are fixed on her, and his jaw is practically scraping the floor. He nudges Lucas sitting next to him and whispers something in his ear. Brody shouts from the tattoo chair.
“Think with your brain and not your dick, Jax!”
Clearly, Brody is the joker. She puts Seb’s cup down on his desk and struts confidently over to Jax, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she approaches him.
“Hi, I’m Ruby.”
She offers her hand to him, and he takes it. She has such a way with the men; no wonder they fall over themselves just to be around her. Across the shop, I have stopped to take a long sip of my second cup of Starbucks espresso macchiato, one sugar, easy on the milk. The warm liquid sliding down my throat gives me the caffeine boost I was craving. Sam swings his long, lean, perfect-muscled legs off the bed and leans down.
“Can I get a sip of that please, darlin’? I’m spitting feathers.”
I offer him the cup, and he takes a long sip. There is something strangely intimate and erotic about sharing a cup of coffee with him.
“Thanks, babe.” He winks. “Do you fancy coming out with me when you’re done? Maybe I could take you to dinner? I can be very persuasive.”
I pause and bite my lip. Was Sam, the rock star, really asking me out on a date? I immediately think he is joking.
“Are you fucking with me?” I lower my voice, and his face turns deadly serious.
“I never fuck about when it comes to a beautiful woman, babe.”
The way he says those words has me practically panting with want, but I have to get my wayward thoughts in check and think rationally. Could I really see myself dating a rock star, the lead singer, and one-quarter of one of the biggest rock bands in the world? He has sold over twenty million albums worldwide, what have I achieved? An apprenticeship in tattooing and I work for Seb Henry … Okay, maybe that is an achievement in itself. But could I really handle being photographed by the paparazzi, our pictures being splashed all over the papers and gossip columns, intimate details of our relationship for all to see, stories of sordid affairs, exes coming out of the woodwork? Hell no!
“Sorry, I don’t date arrogant, cocky rockers; it’s not my style.”
He smiles and nods.
“Wow, playing hard to get. Okay, I can deal with that,” he says calmly. He gets back up on the bed. I pull on a fresh set of gloves and continue tattooing him.
“So, how long have you worked here?”
I inwardly sigh. “Are we really going to do this? The small talk, like you’re really interested in a girl like me.”
He frowns. “Just because you see my life splashed all over the tabloids doesn’t mean you get to judge me. I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t genuinely interested, babe. Seriously.”
He rolls his eyes and looks genuinely hurt; I suddenly feel bad for shooting him down so quickly.
“I’m sorry, it’s just—”
He stops me. “Come out with me, please.”
I shake my head. “I’m not going to be subjected to fangirls swooning over you, interrupting us for photos and autographs at every available opportunity.”
He smiles that mischievous dazzling smile, and it disarms me momentarily.
“Is that jealousy I sense?”
I roll my eyes. “Why would I be jealous? I hardly know you.”
He bites his lip piercing seductively. “Green is a colour that definitely suits you, babe,” he says huskily, and I ignore the heat between my legs. I feel unexpectedly exasperated by this man’s presence. With him, I appear to have definitely met my match, which seems to trigger off my defence mechanism.
“You seem to have forgotten my name again. You keep calling me babe. It’s okay, my name is Peyton. Do you need me to spell it for you? It begins with a P.”
I hear sniggers from across the shop.
“Bloody hell, stop busting his balls, babe, and give the guy a chance.”
Sam looks across the shop at Ruby.
“It seems you’ve forgotten her name too, sweetheart.”
“Oh, yeah, silly me, my mistake, I’m sorry, Peyton.” She emphasises my name and narrows her eyes at me. I know she is trying to tell me to rein it in. Sam smirks mischievously and cocks his pierced eyebrow.
“Are you usually like this around other guys, or is it just me?”
I am stunned into silence. I have definitely met my match.
“Wow, no wonder you’re single. Assuming you are single? I mean, God help the guy if he puts up with you, Miss High Maintenance. He must have the patience of a fucking saint,” he says sarcastically. I stop tattooing him and forcefully put my machine down on the table, the clattering echoing through the shop. I rip off my gloves, angrily push my chair back, and get to my feet.
“I’m taking a break,” I say sharply and storm to the back of the shop. All eyes of the people in the shop are on me.
I need some air. How fucking dare he judge me like that? He doesn’t even know me. I know I probably brought it on myself, but what fucking right does he have to speak to me that way? At this moment, I wish that I had taken one of the other band members. I am so bloody angry; I take a few deep breaths, lifting my face to the sky and relishing the cool air on my skin. It instantly calms me. I lower my head, and I sense Sam’s presence at my side. He towers over me and leans casually into the doorway.
“Look, I’m really sorry, Peyton; I didn’t mean to be such a dick.”
I shake my head, infuriated.
“I’m not usually like this around peopl
e, women, in particular. I’m complete and utter mush around you. Ever since I set foot in the shop and laid eyes on you … You do something to me, Peyton, and I’ve never felt like this before, like ever.”
I note the sincerity in his voice and look up at him. I instantly feel bad for shooting him down at every opportunity, but I can’t resist cheekily bantering back.
“Was that a line?”
I smirk, and he gives me a heart-stopping mischievous grin.
