Heart Ink: A Fling To Ring Romance: A Bad Boy Tattoo Artist Romantic Comedy

by L. L. Ash

  The problem wasn’t if I wanted to go on dates and continue. Obviously, I thought she was hot and I liked talking to her. The real question was if she would stay interested in me after she conquered what was in my pants.

  “Wings!” the waitress called as she set two steaming plates in front of us, ranch and veggies in a tray between.

  “Oh my God, this smells so good!” Fae grinned, attempting to pick up a burning hot wing.

  I did the same, following along with the whole burning-fingers thing she was doing.

  “Shit it’s hot!” I laughed, licking the spicy sauce off my fingers.

  She laughed and nodded, agreeing with my assessment while mimicking my motions. First one finger went into her mouth, then her thumb as she looked up at me, grinning.

  Damn, those lips… They were the same pale shade of pink as her perky nipples and her…

  Whoa, get your head out of there, Rome.

  “So, you a student, or do you work?” I asked, giving up on the wings for a minute.

  Meanwhile she was managing to put a wing to her teeth, pulling a little flesh off the bone, steam erupting from the middle when she did.

  “Hawt!” She waved her hand in front of her mouth, doing a little dance at the table.

  I laughed while trying to settle my now raging boner at the sight.

  She waved her hand a little more, then chewed.

  “God, my mom would kill me if she saw me doing this.” She laughed.

  “So? Rebel a little,” I shrugged at her.

  She lifted an eyebrow, seeing the invitation for what it was.

  “I’ve been doing nothing but rebel with you, Roman,” she said, my name coming off her tongue like silk.

  Chills shot up my spine again.

  “And the answer is, I was a student. I’m done with school now.”

  “So you’re looking for work?” I asked, trying not to think about all the things that were so Goddamn sexy about her.

  “Yes and no. I’ve been thinking about going back to school. Dad wants me to be a lawyer, so I don’t know.”

  “Did you do pre-law then?”

  She nodded.

  “I mean, I finished. I just have to pass the bar and then I can be a lawyer...I just don’t really want to.”

  I gulped

  Shit...she was a lawyer?

  “You don’t look old enough to be a lawyer,” I frowned.

  “I’m twenty-six. How long do you think it takes to become a lawyer?” she laughed.

  “I don’t know, like, a decade?”

  She just laughed again at my dumb answer.

  I knew. Of course I knew. I went to college with law school kids and they’d graduated not long after I did with my MBA.

  “So law is your passion?” I asked, fingering a wing and not meeting her eyes.

  If she was a lawyer, she wouldn’t want anything to do with me after the initial fuck.

  “Passion? No,” she shook her head, her own smile disappearing as well. “It’s just what Daddy wanted.”

  “So, if you could do anything, what would you do?” I asked, tilting my head in curiosity.

  “Anything?” she asked dreamily. “I’d become a chef.”

  “A chef?” I asked, thrown off my wheels again for the millionth time since she’d stepped foot in my shop.

  “I love food. Like… I love food. I’d marry food if I could.”

  “So, you took me to this dive bar when you could have made me a homemade dinner?” I asked in a rankled voice.

  “Hey, I never said I can cook.” She bounced her eyebrows at me and I just grinned.

  “A lawyer wants to become a chef but can’t cook? You make absolutely no sense, Fae.”

  She just laughed again at me before digging into her wings, which were sufficiently cooled now.

  I did too, watching out of the top of my eyes as she really ate. Girls never ate around me. Seriously, it was always a salad that they barely picked at. Like they were afraid of looking like they ate, when I knew they just went home hungry from our date and engorged themselves in a pint of ice cream once they were alone.

  It was ridiculous.

  But this girl? Fuck...she ate like nobody was around, hot sauce smeared over her cheek and fingers.

  It was so fucking hot…

  Damn, again with the boner…

  Actually, I don’t think it ever went away when she was around.

  When we were done with our wings, we used the little wet napkins they gave us and snacked on the carrots and celery on the side while we talked.

  “Want to play pool?” she asked, bouncing her eyebrows at me again.

  Why was that so sexy?

  “Yeah. But I’m going to beat your ass.”

  “Fat chance, Italian.” she winked at me, swinging her hips as she left the table with two twenties on it.

  Italian?

  OH. Roman. Rome. Italy.

  Ha. Not really funny, but I liked that she gave me a nickname.

  “Hold that sweet ass of yours, Pixie!” I called back, bounding up behind her, and wrapping my arms around her for just a second before moving around the table and getting our pool cues.

  Damn, she felt good in my arms, even if it was just for a second.

  She was laughing behind me, and I turned in time to see her peel off her jacket leaving her in nothing but that silk purple tank that glided over her skin…

  Too bad the table wasn’t blocking the tenting that was going on in my pants anymore.

  I tried to angle my cue and arms in front of me so she didn’t notice, but it would be hard not to notice. I mean, I wasn’t a giant or anything, but there was enough there to really put a dent in my jeans.

  “Did anyone ever tell you it’s not polite to wear hats at the table?” she asked from across the pool table.

  Actually, I’d been told that many, many times growing up. Never stopped me.

  She made her way around and yanked the beanie from my head.

  “Hey!” I called, sliding a hand through my hair.

  “Oh! No man-bun today?”

  “That’s what the hat was for.” I laughed, letting go of my hair where it fell naturally, strands hanging all down the side of my face.

  “I have to say, I’m not sure what I like better.” She tapped her finger against her lips. “Man bun or au naturale.”

  “You saying you like my hair, Pixie?” I asked her, leaning down to aim and break.

  The balls cracked against each other as they spread across the table, a stripe going into a pocket.

  Stripes it is.

  “That’s a dumb question, Italian.”

  “You know, you look harmless,” I told her, shooting again but missing the pocket with my stripe by half an inch. “But you’re really mischievous.”

  Hence pixie.

  “Don’t tell my parents.” She winked at me.

  Fuck no I won’t. I liked the crazy, flirty, wanna-be chef standing in front of me. Bending over in front of me. Her tank dropped down, giving me a view all the way down to her belly button. Too bad for those ridiculous smiley face pasties.

  She shot and got absolutely nothing but the white ball in the pocket, so I picked it out and settled it where I wanted it.

  “No fair!” She pouted.

  “That’s the game, babe.” I shrugged at her with that smirk back in place.

  “I don’t want to play this game anymore...”

  Her bottom lip thrust out and I just wanted to lean in and bite it.

  “Finish what you started,” I told her.

  She sighed and thrust out a hip, planting her hand on it to wait for her turn.

  Chapter Five

  Fae

  Finishing the game was absolute torture!

  His hair was like...ohmigod sexy, his smoldering eyes almost never leaving me, just silently making all kinds of suggestions of what he’d like to do to me if we weren’t in the bar with ten other people...

  I wanted to get him out of there, I
just hadn’t come up with an excuse that wasn’t simply, ‘let’s go have sex’.

  Holy hell he was so into me, and it set every last nerve ending on fire. The poor guy had a boner since we started playing pool, but neither of us said anything about it, and I tried not to notice because I didn’t want to embarrass him.

  Not that it would embarrass him. He’d probably wiggle his hips if I said something. The man had no shame, and evidently no weakness with pool, either.

  I was losing. Bad.

  “I want dessert...” I finally quipped, watching his butt through those jeans for the millionth time since we started the game.

  His white t-shirt stretched across his shoulders, practically shredding at the seams from all his muscles while his leather jacket sat just on top of mine on a stool nearby.

  Fans self vigorously.

  “Want me to go get something?” he asked, standing back up to his impressive height.

  Now or never, Fae, I could hear Josie and Cambria both chanting in my head. If they had been around for all the flirting I’d been doing the past couple hours, they’d be so proud.

  He didn’t wait for an answer. He was already at the bar to order dessert.

  Dammit!

  “Kitchen’s closed.” He came back with a frown on his handsome face.

  I just wanted to touch him, feel the rough, coarse prickle of the not-quite-beard, not-quite-stubble on his cheeks.

  Now or never Fae!

  “I’ll make some dessert,” I blurted, my heart pumping so fast I almost felt like I’d pass out.

  “I thought you couldn’t cook.” He narrowed his eyes on me.

  “I never said I couldn’t. Besides, it’s baking, not cooking.”

  “What’ll you make me?” He crossed those massive arms over his chest.

  “Brownies?” was what popped out of my mouth.

  A question, not a statement.

  “I like brownies.” He nodded slowly, as if figuring out if I was trying to suggest something else.

  “Of course, they take a while to cook...” I almost whispered. “We’ll have to entertain ourselves somehow.”

  A flash of recognition appeared then vaporized from his eyes. He understood the proposition for what it was. The question was if he was down for it, too.

  “You driving or am I?” was his answer.

  We pulled our jackets back on and headed out of the bar, our last drinks far behind us as I followed Roman to his motorcycle. I’d always wanted to ride one, and now was my chance, before I got into a relationship with a respectable man who had a respectable job and drove a respectable car.

  Everything about Roman was fire and ice and hot and cold. He kept me on my toes, meeting my verbal banter stroke for stroke, and hopefully later he’d meet me thrust for thrust.

  Fingers crossed.

  In the three week hiatus from Roman and his shop, Cambria had told me all about how she would start working at Inkubus soon, once her semester was over. She was excited to spend the summer working with tattoo artists and doing something fun before diving into the corporate world. Josie was all for it, but when I told them about the tattoo, first they demanded to see it, then they swooned over it. I told them about the experience and they had both, separately, made me promise not to leave the appointment tonight without at least a date. If not a quickie.

  But it had gone even better than I’d hoped. The stars had aligned and I had convinced him to get dinner with me, then we played pool, flirted… Now we were about to go to my house, where I was going to try and seduce him.

  It was my homework given to me by my friends. Not that it would be any hardship. My body burned for Roman and I wanted nothing but to put out that fire. Nothing but his body would be able to do that, so there we were.

  “Get on,” he told me, having already swung his leg over to straddle the big machine.

  I looked down at my skinny jeans and high heeled boots, then at the seat, three feet off the ground.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…

  “C’mon, babe,” he said, holding out a hand.

  I took it and he helped me hop up behind him, my arms instantly wrapping around his solid chest.

  “Put this on,” he told me, handing back his helmet.

  I did, sliding it over my shoulder length hair that I’d spent more than an hour getting meticulously and ‘effortlessly’ wavy.

  Once I was behind him, the helmet strap snapped closed under my chin, his body moved under my arms as he lifted a foot, and stomped down on the starter.

  “Hold on tight!” he called over the roar of the engine before we sped like a bullet out of the parking lot.

  I shrieked and hollered until we were on the main road.

  “Point the way!” he told me over his shoulder.

  Luckily I was only a half dozen blocks away.

  I tapped his shoulder and pointed to the left as we came to the correct light and he followed silently, turning smoothly, leaning his body into the dip. Two turns later we were stopped in front of my condo near the water.

  Dad had insisted I didn’t need anything too fancy, but Mom didn’t want me seen anywhere but in the best neighborhoods.

  She’d be horrified if she knew where I’d been tonight.

  He parked the bike in the striped walking zone like so many motorcyclists and moped riders did, then idled.

  “This it?” he asked, not having to yell anymore because the engine was a fraction quieter.

  “This is it,” I agreed, slithering off the side of the bike.

  He killed the engine and put out the kickstand with another stomp of his foot, then swung his long, thick leg over the bike.

  I held out the helmet to him and he tucked it under his arm.

  “Nice digs for a not-quite lawyer,” he said, looking around at the upscale complex.

  Not a line of moss anywhere, which in the PNW (Pacific Northwest) was pretty difficult to find.

  “Yeah, my parents got it for me,” I shrugged, feeling kind of lame that I’d brought up my parents so many times in the past few hours with him.

  He probably thought I was some kind of daddy’s girl...which, admittedly, I was.

  “Lead the way.” He motioned with his head and I did, pulling out my keys from my clutch and moving toward the stairs.

  He followed close behind me, not so close that he was touching me, but close enough that I could feel the heat of his skin, radiating out towards me.

  We both knew what this was. There was no putting a pretty mask over the fact that this was a hookup.

  Evidently Josie and Cambria were right, and it just took a few hours staring at my boobs to make him give in.

  Up two flights of stairs, I opened my door, letting us into my sparsely but beautifully and professionally decorated apartment.

  “Wow, you’ve got this shit made, huh?” he asked, looking around.

  The apartment impressed people all the time. The girls hung out here because,

  A) it was the nicest apartment of the three of us, and...

  B) I was the only one with water views.

  Also, there’s...

  C) I have a hot neighbor that Josie likes to ogle...

  “So...” Roman hummed, slowly unzipping his leather jacket as he continued looking around the room. “About those brownies...”

  Our eyes met and my face turned beet red.

  “Is this where I tell you to sit down so I can slip into something more comfortable?” I squeaked.

  “Pretty sure this is where you make me those brownies you promised. I have appetites, babe, and they need filling.”

  His eyes flashed with humor and lust, a strange but potent combination.

  “Right, brownies,” I nodded, turning tail and jogging to the kitchen.

  “You got roommates?” he asked, following me slowly, draping his leather jacket over a dining room chair.

  “I might as well. Jo and Cam are here most days and nights. Especially during the summer, I can’t get
rid of them.”

  He smiled.

  “Your friends are crazy. I talked to Cambria a couple weeks ago. Looks like she’ll be a good addition to our team. It’ll be nice to have someone who doesn’t accept bullshit around the shop. She’ll need that stiff spine of hers around some of the guys.”

  “Really? Are they crazy?” I asked, pouring out some chocolate into a double boiler bowl over my saucepan filled just an inch with water.

  “You met Freddie. He’s my bro. The other guys though...while Steve is a good guy, he’s pretty coarse and doesn’t get along with everyone. And Tanner just thinks he’s God’s gift to mankind.”

  “Hey, I know guys like that,” I quipped, plopping half a stick of butter into the melting chocolate.

  “Dime a dozen these days, unfortunately,” he shrugged.

  My ex-fiancé was one of those guys. He could do no wrong because he had a pretty face and a good education. Being a good person or doing the right thing never really crossed his mind. He did what he had to do to get what he wanted. Period.

  Stripping away any thoughts of Justin the cheating ex, I stirred together the dry ingredients before incorporating the rest.

  “Oven on…?” Roman called from the double oven in the wall behind me.

  “Three seventy-five,” I called back, prepping the square glass pan with butter.

  I heard the oven beep on, then felt Roman’s presence move from the oven, to leaning his hip against the counter.

  “Need help?” he asked, his voice low, gravelly and inviting.

  My heart started to pump again, smelling his particular scent over even the chocolate wafting into my face.

  I couldn’t put my thumb on the cologne he used, or that faint outdoorsy smell that clung to him. I just knew it smelled so, so good.

  I poured the batter into the buttered pan and pushed it into the oven, setting a forty minute timer.

  “Ok, so now we wait,” I told him, nervously putting all the dishes in the sink.

  I scooped a tiny droplet of batter off the bowl before it dripped onto my countertop and had it on its way to my mouth when his hand reached out and stopped me.

  I looked up to him, feeling his hand wrap around mine and move that little droplet of batter on my fingertip toward himself. His mouth opened and in my finger went as his tongue brushed over the batter.