Hot Ink: All 3 Tattoo Shop Romance Books + 2 Exclusive Bonus Stories

by Melissa Devenport

  Heather’s smile sent a volley of chills racing up his spine. “No rules,” she whispered, the undercurrent of desire in her voice totally obvious. “I like the sound of that.”

  The End

  COMING UP NEXT

  HOT INK

  Exclusive Bonus Material

  Not available for stand-alone purchase.

  MORE THAN INKED

  Chapter 1

  Third Time’s A Charm

  Heather

  “So. Third time’s a charm?”

  Her fiancé, as tall as a mountain and as broad a damn freight train, slid onto the rid vinyl bench. He stripped off his black t-shirt and leaned forward, hardly daring to touch the paper protective layer on the chair. She knew the real reason Rone was on edge. He hated needles. He’d nearly passed out the first time he’d come for an appointment. She remembered coaxing him into it, persuading him to finally confide in her and explaining the painful process. Back then she’d been the shop’s receptionist. Now, after years of apprenticing, she was a real artist.

  She’d been not so subtly hinting that Rone needed to let her tattoo him. She’d freed up her schedule several times, but he’d always found reasons to cancel. He could be utterly romantic and entirely too convincing. All it took was a single heated look and she forgot all about what she had planned.

  “I can’t believe that you love art so much that you poke it into people for a living.”

  “That sounds just wrong.” Heather started pouring out ink. “So you’re actually going to let me do full color on you?” Rone’s other tattoo was black and gray. Done by one of the guys who owned the shop, it was beautiful, the ink soft. It had healed well, despite what Rone thought about the whole process.

  “No it doesn’t. Sound wrong, I mean.”

  “Yes, it does.” She poured out a few more inks and set the bottles aside. “I’m going to get down to business soon. You have approximately five minutes to put your shirt back on and take off like the hounds of hell are at your ankles.”

  “I’m not going to do that.”

  “And we both know you ate. And you have your bottle of juice.” She glanced at the OJ in Rone’s hand. “So we should be good. No passing out on me?”

  “Not unless you have a heavy hand. I’ve read about that, you know.”

  “In this case, I think a little less research was probably best. Mike and Kian taught me and they’re the best. I don’t have a heavy hand. I’m not going to carve it into you. I promise you’ll survive.”

  “I hope so. It would be embarrassing to die at the hands of my fiancé. Although, I think it would be pretty romantic, really. I would have died for love, seeing as I’m doing this for love.”

  “You are not. You’re doing this because I pestered you to the point of distraction and after months you couldn’t refuse me. I made this design just for you.” She held up the ship and compass stencil. “Just like you asked. Because I’m your direction and your anchor.”

  “I asked for a ship, not an anchor.” Rone rolled his eyes, but his voice was tender, giving him away.

  Heather laughed softly. “You’re a dork. I was trying to be metaphorical. Because, you know, ships have anchors.”

  “They also have wood and mermaids and jewels and treasure and pirates.”

  “And planks to walk with sharks circling below.” Heather put on a fresh set of gloves, ready to get the show on the road. She fit the stencil to Rone’s bicep. “I think we’ve lost the original analogy here. Or at least, I hope we did. I hope I’m not a plank or the sharks circling below for me.”

  “Not unless they’re really sexy sharks.”

  She raised a brow. “Maybe they are sexy sharks. I have been known to bite.”

  Rone groaned. “Don’t remind me of that right now as I’m about to get tortured by you. It’s actually really hot and if you distract me, there is no way we’re even going to start.”

  Heather leaned over Rone’s massive form. She gripped his arm to put the stencil on, but instead leaned over further and graced his neck with her lips. He jumped at the contact then went rigid. A feral noise was dragged from his throat.

  “Seriously. You must really want to distract me here. You better get that stencil on before I get up and lock the door.”

  “Alright, alright. We could take breaks,” she said suggestively.

  “That’s hardly professional.”

  “We’re here after hours. No one will know. I couldn’t book you in during the day because I can’t just give free tattoos away, but after hours, what I do is my business.”

  The silence of the shop pressed down around them, tempting her to put her equipment away. She’d been with Rone for long enough that she shouldn’t still feel this way. She did, though. After a lifetime spent loving him in secret, it was like finally being allowed to love him had unlocked whatever she’d held trapped inside for so long. Now that she was actually allowed to love him, she knew she’d never stop.

  “Well, then. Put that stencil away and get over here.”

  Heather laughed softly. “I just remembered that there are cameras all over the shop. I’m sure it would provide quite a show for Mike and Kian though, when they check everything in the morning.”

  “Why didn’t you say that before?” Rone asked, exasperated. His voice turned to a low growl and when his soft velvet eyes touched on her, she recognized the feral glow in their depths. “I’m not going to give anyone a free show. If we’re making a sex tape, I plan on getting rich.”

  “Oh really? And do I get a say in this sex tape?”

  “Of course. You can pick the genre. What’s it going to be? Bondage? Hot wax? Spankings?”

  “I think that’s all the same genre.”

  She averted her eyes from Rone’s broad chest, rippling with muscle. God, it wasn’t any wonder she loved him. Who on earth wouldn’t be attracted to a man who resembled a bronzed statue? She’d fought her brother for him. Not literally. Rone had done that. Or rather, he’d taken a beating for her and not fought Jay. She’d refused to give him up and eventually her brother came around. It seemed almost unbelievable that they were going to be married in just over a month. She’d dreamed about it since she was a little girl.

  “Sorry I’m not well versed in adult movie categories. I could start learning though, if you wanted me to.”

  “Seems like something fun to do on a Saturday night seeing as we’re old as fuck and we don’t go out anymore.”

  “That’s not because we’re old. It’s because we’re too smart for that. I was never into it anyway.”

  “Neither was I.”

  Rone’s strong lips arched upwards in one of those soft smiles he reserved just for her. “Then I guess we’re not old. Just perfectly matched.”

  “You know we are. We always were.” She leaned in again and slanted her lips over Rone’s. He was perfect. He tasted raw and masculine, sweetly primal with a hint of wild cherry mints he’d eaten while they drove back to the shop. He could never suck them. He always had to crunch them right away. He tasted like the man she loved, the man she knew intimately, the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. “Now, can I put this stencil on you or are you going to make me re-book this for another night?”

  “I’ve already worked up my courage for it. I can’t cancel again. The anxiety will kill me.”

  “I promise I won’t torture you. Well, maybe just a little.” Heather smiled wickedly. “You know, I think that whole genre we were talking about maybe does suit me. Except I like to be the one handing out the pain.”

  “I can’t believe people pay you for hours of torture.”

  “And you, my love, are special enough to get it for free.”

  Chapter 2

  Settling Into It

  Rone

  Rone sat perfectly still while Heather’s gentle hands applied the stencil to his arm. He wasn’t really worried, even though she’d already been straight up with him that the tattoo was probably going to take her five ho
urs and that working in color hurt far more than doing just black and gray. He’d already worked up his nerve. Probably ten different times. And lost it ten different times.

  “Have a look in the mirror there.” She pointed at the wall length mirror in the corner of the small room that was hers.

  Gathering his courage, he slid off the edge of the table and walked slowly over to the mirror. He was hoping that if he took his time, he’d somehow come up with a magic way to keep it from hurting like hell. He knew he’d never live it down if he passed out on Heather. She’d forgive him for it, but he knew it was a story that would be repeated until they were well into being old and wrinkled together.

  The thought sent a shiver of pleasure racing through him. He was flooded with the warmest sensation right after. He wanted that. He wanted to grow old with Heather more than anything. He couldn’t believe he was the one she’d picked. She could have had anyone. She was beautiful, wildly talented, witty, intelligent. She could have had anyone on earth, but she’d picked him. And she’d fought for him. His fiancé, the tiny little warrior. She was so damn special to him it made him want to weep some days. Which was really weird, because he wasn’t the kind of guy who did things like that. Ever.

  “I think the placement is good. What do you think?”

  Heather gave him his space. She leaned back on the stool she sat perched on. It was a strange shape, more of a saddle or a giant bike seat. He wasn’t sure how she handled it, bent over people all day. He knew that she was already complaining about back pain. They’d been talking about taking up yoga together. Yoga. And he was damn excited about it, because the truth was, he’d do anything for her.

  “I like it.” He actually did. Heather was an amazing artist. She’d drawn the ship and compass exactly as he wanted it to look. And despite the fact that he’d bugged her about it, it really did symbolize what she meant to him. She really was his sense of direction, always guiding him.

  It might be corny as hell, but he was absolutely beyond caring what other people thought. If it was corny, then he was more than happy to be a complete cliché.

  “My mom thinks I’m converting you to the dark side.” Heather grinned. Her gray blue eyes sparkled with devilment.

  “Maybe you are. Although, I’m sure Leanne will give in some day and get a tattoo herself. Doesn’t everyone?”

  “I have clients who are over eighty.”

  “I know. I think that’s awesome. Those people have balls of steel.”

  “Dear god, I wouldn’t know. I just do their tattoos.”

  He let out a bark of laughter that echoed through the room. “I guess I should sit back down and let you get to work. Promise me you’re going to use that numbing cream as soon as you can.”

  “We’ve already numbed you before we got here and yes, I’ll put it on as I go.”

  “The tube said not to do that.”

  “I can’t believe you read that. They all say don’t do it, but I do it if the client wants it done. I’ve never had anyone have a reaction. Certainly no one has died on me yet.”

  “I bet it helps.”

  “It really takes the fire out of it, I find.”

  “Alright.” Rone knew he couldn’t stall any longer. Heather hadn’t exactly convinced him to do this. She’d just dropped more than a few hints, that it would be nice to tattoo him.

  “Don’t worry. I know for sure I don’t have a heavy hand. I’ve tattooed myself.”

  “I know. I can’t believe you did that.”

  “That empty spot on my leg was begging for a skull. It made sense, given that I needed to practice on someone.”

  “There were people lining up at the door for your art from day one.”

  She shrugged as she started playing around with her equipment, getting her station ready. Rone gave his head a shake, trying to banish the black spots that were closing in on the edge of his vision.

  I am not going to pass out. I am not going to pass out. I am not going to pass out. He hoped that telling himself enough times made it true.

  “Come sit down, Rone. You’re making me nervous. It looks like you’re going to pass out. Drink some juice and settle back. All you have to do is get through the first twenty minutes. After that you settle in and everything is easy.”

  “Easy for you, maybe.” He did sit back down. He swung his massive legs onto the chair and leaned back, leaving his arm free, careful not to smudge the stencil. “I feel like we should have made this smaller.”

  “It doesn’t matter if it’s small or not. It’s going to take the same amount of time.”

  “There are way too many lines in here. Maybe you should- uh- color it in a different day.”

  Heather glanced up, a knowing glint in her eyes. “That’s a hard no. I’m never going to get you back in here if I let you go now. You don’t want to have to do this twice and heal it twice. Trust me, the instant gratification will be worth it.”

  “That’s what you said the first time I was here.”

  “And was it?”

  “I don’t know. It hurt like hell after. That’s all I could concentrate on.”

  Heather’s smile didn’t waver. “Okay, well, maybe you and I are a little bit different in that regard.”

  “So color a different day?”

  “No way. Lean back. I’m going to start now.”

  She gripped his arm gently, but firmly. He braced himself for the bite of pain. When it came, it was still a little bit shocking. He hated that part, the part that felt most like the stab of a needle. He wished he didn’t have a petrifying fear of shots. As it was, he usually fainted when he had to get his blood taken. He knew what it looked like, since he was so big. The whole bigger they are, harder they fall… it was true. It was so damn true.

  Heather outlined away, getting into her work. He glanced over at her face, studying her features to keep himself from thinking about what was actually going on. He loved the way her delicate brow creased into a small frown as she focused. The purse of her perfect, sweet lips, was so incredibly beautiful he ached to kiss them. She had her long hair tied up above her head to keep it out of the way, but wispy little dark strands framed her forehead on either side.

  “So, you think one day my mom will cave and get a tattoo?”

  “If she did, she should get it from you. It really is okay.”

  “See, I told you. It’s already been twenty minutes. It’s going numb isn’t it?”

  Hardly. He nodded bravely, just to please her. “It’s starting to feel less like a sharp poke and more like a hot ache.”

  “That sounds perfectly sexual.”

  He almost laughed, but stopped himself in time, since he didn’t want to move and mess up what she was doing. She worked confidently and quickly. It was easy to see why she was so busy, her wait list already stretching out for months. Her books were always closed. She’d had to explain what that meant to him. It was an odd way to say she wasn’t taking appointments anymore since she was way too busy already.

  “Perfectly sexual. Is there anything less than perfect with me?”

  Those siren lips of hers quirked into a shadow of a smile. “Nice to see that you’re humble as always.”

  “As always.” She pulled a hard line then and Rone grimaced. “You going to use some of that numbing cream yet?”

  “Not for a little bit, I’m afraid. It will take the stencil off. Honestly, I’m surprised you can feel this at all. That stuff we put on before we came is a favorite with my clients. Some of them say they can’t feel a thing.”

  “They must be really lucky then.”

  “I think it’s just your own fear that’s making it hurt worse. Your arm is like a rock. You’re pretty tense.”

  “I can’t help that.”

  “I have something to take your mind off the pain.”

  “What’s that?” He was a little surprised by the note of uncertainty in her voice.

  Heather didn’t glance up. She kept working away at his arm and the fire start
ed to set in. She continued to pull a line and then she paused and those gray blue eyes of hers met his. “We’re going to have a baby.”

  Chapter 3

  An Offer Too Good To Refuse

  Heather

  “I’m sorry… what did you just say?” Rone stared at her blankly. His lips parted, but he didn’t say anything further.

  She gently set down her machine. She was only half way done the outline. It wasn’t how she imagined telling Rone, just blurting it, but she hadn’t really had a plan. It seemed like as good a time as any. They were alone and the shop, in the little room that was just hers, the room he’d help her decorate with paintings and other artwork, a room where she was living a dream of hers that she’d had for a very long time, it seemed right.

  “Yeah,” she whispered. “I’m pregnant.”

  Rone swung his legs over the side and stood up suddenly. He was so much taller than her, and when she was already sitting down, he looked like a giant looming above her. “When did you find out!”

  “Last night. I took a test.”

  “And you waited this long to tell me!”

  Heather unfurled herself from her seat. Rone wasted no time. He opened his arms and she stepped into them. His hands fell to her waist. He didn’t pull her into his chest. No, he wanted to stare down at her, to meet her gaze directly.

  “I… this- this wasn’t- planned…” she stammered. “I didn’t know what you’d think. I thought maybe it was the worst time, seeing as I’m finally done my apprenticeship and we aren’t even married yet and with the wedding only a month away we have so much going on.”

  “Are you kidding me? A baby? You know that I want to be a dad.”

  “We’ve only talked about that in abstract.”