Now it was Jed’s turn to show a spark of interest as he eyed Braelyn up and down as if he was seeing her for the first time. “Really?”
Her lips tilted up in a soft, sweet smile. “Really.”
Noble smiled and put a friendly hand on Jed’s shoulder. “And I think you should do it, bro.”
Jed and Braelyn both shifted startled eyes to him. Jed found words first. “What? Me?”
“Yeah. You’d do a great job,” Noble said, trying to sound like he was just looking out for Braelyn’s best interest. When really he wasn’t sure he could stand to have his hands on her flesh for any length of time and still keep his sanity. And he didn’t even know where she had in mind for her tat yet. He didn’t want to know. Jed was a married man. He could handle it.
Jed backed up a step. “No better than you, man. You know that.” He glanced at Braelyn, confusion clouding his eyes. “Sorry. I have an appointment anyway.” He turned back to Noble as he inched away. “I’m sure you can handle it beautifully. It was really nice to meet you, Braelyn,” he said as he made his way to his back office.
She murmured something that he couldn’t make out over the rushing in his ears before turning the full force of those tawny eyes on him. “What the hell was that?”
“What do you mean?”
She leaned forward and grabbed a fistful of his T-shirt. “I thought we were through with the avoiding me crap.”
He quirked a brow. “We are.”
“Really? Then why were you trying to turf me off to your best friend just then?”
He didn’t have an answer.
She kept going anyway. “And when I asked you to help me with my little tattoo fantasy, I meant you. Not your friend.” She yanked him closer until their breath mingled. “You.”
His pants got distinctly tighter as the fire whipped from her eyes. He’d never imagined Sweet Cheeks would have this side to her. He was definitely in trouble. He had to get the upper hand here or he was a goner. He planted his palms on either side of her on the armrests and leaned down until they were nearly nose-to-nose.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured, watching the fire melt into embers in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter whose needle is on your skin. Jed would’ve done you a fine tattoo. No reason to be offended.” His eyes skimmed down to her lips and lingered. “For that matter, there’re hundreds of tattoo places in town. Why here? Why now?” He peered back into her eyes.
She licked her lips. “That’s simple.” She reached up and gripped both of his biceps. “Because I trust you, Noble. And only you.”
Holy hell. He jumped back as if she wielded a branding iron.
She eyed him strangely. “What?”
“Nothing,” he lied. “It’s fine. So, what do you want done?” He grabbed his sketch book and pencil from the counter while praying she wanted something tiny and simple on a non-sexy, benign part of her body—if there were such a part.
She didn’t say anything. He glanced at her as he sat on his stool. “Well?”
“You’re going to draw it?”
“Uh, yeah. What did you think was gonna happen?”
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips again and she shifted in the seat. “I, uh, thought you’d just have a book of designs for me to pick from or something. I had no idea I’d be troubling you with a custom job.”
He tapped the tip of his pencil on the pad. “It’s what we do here. Jed does have a few books of designs in his office, but we prefer to give our clients the benefit of customized work whenever possible.”
“Oh.” Her eyes roamed the studio as the front door sounded and Ariel’s voice floated back to them as she greeted some more customers. Probably Jed’s appointment. “I’m not keeping you from any other work, am I?”
“Nope. Don’t have another client ‘til midnight. You’re good.” He shifted his weight. She was good, all right. “But we probably do need to get a move on if I’m gonna sketch something up and get it on you in time.” He smiled and enjoyed the way her eyes widened. He would be the one wielding a needle, after all. “So, let’s start with this. Where do you want this bad boy?”
She blushed and he grinned. But a dangerous gleam lit up her eyes as she pointed to her hip, just below her hipbone.
Fuck.
He bit back a groan as desire rushed through his veins like a shot of tequila, knowing that meant her jeans would have to be peeled back as well as her panties. If she was wearing any. She’d better be friggin’ wearing some.
He swallowed and nodded. “All right.” He kept his eyes trained on the paper in front of him. “What did you have in mind?”
“How about a black widow spider?”
His eyes snapped up. She was grinning at him. His gut clenched. She was so damn beautiful. “I’m just kidding. Would you find me too girly if I asked for a pretty little butterfly, say about this big?” She made her fingers into a circle a bit bigger than a half-dollar.
“Not too girly at all. I think it’ll suit you.”
He set about drawing the best damn butterfly of his life. He tuned everything out as his pencil arced across the paper, the scratch, scratch, scratch, lulling him as his creativity took over. He only had to erase once as he adjusted the curve of a wing to make it more graceful. He wanted it to appear like it was in flight on her flesh. Not just a static tattoo that was placed like a pretty picture to be looked at and admired. It needed to breathe and move with her. And now he was a part of it, part of her, as the curve of the wing became two wings and the single butterfly became two butterflies dancing together in flight.
He swirled one last stroke then sat back and studied his sketch. He glanced at his watch. It’d only taken him just under fifteen minutes, though it felt much longer.
She hopped up and peeked over his shoulder. “Noble . . .”
“I can fix it,” he interrupted. “I got a little carried away. I know you didn’t want two butterflies.” He glanced up at her, his blood thrumming with the intoxicating rush of creativity. Of her. Her eyes only added fuel to the flame, sparking it into something sensual.
She reached out and touched his hand holding the pencil. “Don’t you dare.” Her eyes dipped to his mouth. “It’s gorgeous. Perfect.” She caressed his arm before sitting back down. “Now do whatever you gotta do to put it on my skin.”
He swallowed, nodded. “Be right back.”
He ran to make the transfer, thankful for the breather. He’d never had a tattoo boggle his mind like this. He returned with his head slightly clearer. “Now, what colors did you want?”
“What do you think will look best? I’m pretty open here and I trust your opinion. Just no green.”
He pulled out some bottles of ink to show her. “With your skin . . .” Your perfect fuckin’ skin . . . “I think this blue would be good. And purple.”
“You mean my super pale, white girl skin?” She smiled and bit her lip.
“Ah, no. Just fair.” He tried to smile back.
Her gaze seared him. “We can’t all have perfect, natural tans like you, Noble Blackfeather.”
That was probably the only “perfect” thing about him. He didn’t comment. Her eyes dipped to the bottles of ink. “Blue and purple are good. I like ‘em.”
Now came the really hard part. “I have to lay you back now,” he said.
“Okay.”
He adjusted his equipment and re-checked the ink, then he slowly used the automated motor to lean Braelyn back until she was nearly flat on her back. He felt her eyes on his face but he didn’t meet her gaze. Not yet. He had to keep this professional if he had any hope of keeping “Little Noble” in check.
He finally looked at her. She didn’t seem nervous at all. In fact, she looked . . . serene lying there in his chair, totally vulnerable to him.
“You
’ll need to unbutton your jeans and ease them back a little bit,” he said, hearing the gruffness in his own voice and wondering if she noticed it, too.
She blinked slowly, then her hands reached for the button of her jeans. It gave way easily, followed by the distinctive rasp of her zipper. She peeled back the denim like a candy wrapper, revealing hot pink lace that matched her top.
He had to glance away and stifle a moan while she pushed her panties out of the way.
“I’m ready.”
He wasn’t. There was no way he was going to be able to do this. He pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Noble?”
The front door sounded yet again and the sound of young men arguing good-naturedly carried, as well as Ariel’s high-pitched voice. Jed’s laughter. He focused on the Asian Muzak to calm his frayed nerves.
“Noble?” she said again, concern coloring her voice. “You okay?”
His eyes popped open. “Yeah, I’m good.” He picked up the butterfly transfer and focused on her hip. Her impossibly perfect little hip. He pressed the image to her skin as gently as he could get by with, using the very tips of his fingers to rub it onto her flesh with circular motions. Maybe if he distracted himself . . .
“So, what’s Tristan up to tonight?”
“He’s hanging out with Michael.”
He pulled the transfer paper back. The image was perfectly copied on her skin. “Cool. And does he know about this?” He handed her a mirror so she could okay the placement both lying and standing.
She popped up and looked at the outline on her perfect hip. He glanced away. “No. I’m not sure I’ll tell him, either.”
He turned back to catch the laughter in her smiling eyes. “I don’t want to encourage him. He already has hero worship for you and Michael, you know.”
He didn’t answer that. He didn’t know what to say. He was nobody’s hero.
He took her hand and helped her hop back in the chair and reposition herself. “And how’s work?” he asked.
She nodded. “It’s great.” She studied the ink outline one last time. “Looks good. Go for it.” She handed him the mirror with a sexy smile.
He wheeled his stool over to her side and slapped on some latex gloves. He studied her eyes, but saw nothing but trust in them. “Ready?”
“Oh, I’ve been ready.” She took a deep breath and flinched with a cute little squeak when he wiped her down with the cold disinfectant. “Yikes!”
He switched on his gun and the buzz resounded through the small space like a welcome friend. He waited a moment to let her get accustomed to the noise. He dipped the needle into the black ink and started with the outline first. He wasn’t sure how he felt about inking such beautiful, unmarked skin, but at the first pass of his needle, a rush of possession surged through him with a fierce punch.
Mine.
He inked and wiped. Inked.
He got through the outline of the first butterfly before he paused to look at her. “You doin’ okay?”
She tilted her head and smiled. “I’m fine. It’s not bad at all. I expected much worse.”
She’s perfect. Dangerous thoughts tumbled through his soul as his heart involuntarily yearned for her. He used all of his willpower to bring that train of thought to a screeching halt. He dipped his head in acknowledgement and got back to work.
Forty minutes later, two perfectly inked butterflies were dancing in free flight on Braelyn’s sexy-as-sin hip. She cooed over the results before he applied a thick layer of moisturizing ointment and a loose bandage.
“Thank you so much, Noble. It’s more beautiful than I’d imagined!”
“No problem. My pleasure.” Definitely his pleasure.
He handed her a sheet of care instructions and led her to the front desk so she could settle up with Ariel. He trusted that Ariel wouldn’t let on that he’d given Braelyn a drastically reduced price on her tattoo.
He left her at the front desk with a perfunctory wave and a half-hearted “See ya later,” before sauntering off and stopping at Jed’s station to shoot the shit. He needed to get his equilibrium back because he was totally off-kilter.
Jed watched him approach. “So? How’d the tattoo go with cutie next door?” he asked with a wicked grin.
Noble didn’t want to talk about it, but he knew if he didn’t answer Jed would just give him more crap. “Fine. It came out really good.”
Jed opened his mouth for what looked to be a smart-ass retort, but his eyes darted over Noble’s shoulder. He snapped his lips shut and smiled.
Noble pivoted to glance over his shoulder. Braelyn was coming their way, her hips swaying like a cat stalking its prey. She sauntered right up to him and turned her golden gaze up to his. “Noble Blackfeather,” she accused.
Jed stifled a laugh behind him. He’d kick his ass later.
“Yeah?”
“You forgot your tip.”
His brows drew together. “Tip? That’s not necessary.”
She tilted her head. “Since when do people have to ask permission to tip if they feel it’s deserved?” She peeked around his body to Jed. “It’s a free country. Don’t you agree?”
“Absolutely.” There was definite laughter in Jed’s voice.
She kept her eyes on Jed, but her body had inched closer to Noble. “Now, as his boss and the owner of this fine establishment, do you mind terribly if I tip your employee here? Or would you rather I take it outside when he’s off the clock?”
Noble’s breath caught. His entire body tensed. Her body heat whipped up the front of him as her hands found his and she interlaced their fingers intimately.
Jed’s voice sounded a hundred miles away. “By all means. If he deserves a tip, don’t keep the man waiting.”
She snapped back to Noble and looked him in the eye. She released his hands to run her fingers up his chest and caress his face. She cradled his cheeks in both palms, her thumbs tracing the hollows of his cheekbones, his mouth.
His hands moved to grip her hips as she gently tugged his head down and rose up on her tiptoes to press her lips to his. He sucked in a breath and tasted her; sweet, sexy, perfect.
Her fingers moved to thread through his hair and pull him closer as she whispered kisses along his lower lip. When she suckled it into her mouth, he broke. On a groan, he tilted his head to take her in. She allowed him to lead the kiss as she opened to him fully. Deeper, wetter, darker.
A phone rang. The door sounded. Someone mumbled something. Someone moaned.
Wait, that was him.
Noble pulled back and stared into her dazed face as her eyes slowly slid open. Her lips were slightly swollen from his kiss and he could see the surrender in her eyes.
But he was a broken man and she deserved so much better.
Tristan paused the PlayStation while Michael answered his cell phone. They weren’t through slaughtering zombies so the interruption had better be quick. They were about to level up and earn golden sniper rifles and he wanted to do it before his mom got home and squawked about him being up too late. He tossed down his controller, wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and rose to go find them some fresh sodas. Might as well use the time-out for a little caffeine boost. Zombie killin’ took a lot out of you. He glanced at the clock in the kitchen as he grabbed them a couple of Dr. Peppers. It was nearly 11:30. He wondered where his mom could be this late. She hadn’t really said where she was going when she ducked out dressed all . . . womanly.
He stopped cold. She wasn’t out on another date again, was she? Wasn’t she a little old for that kind of thing?
He shifted the icy sodas in his hand and strode back into the living room, ready to tackle the undead again. “Hey.” He paused when he realized Michael was still on the phone with a goofy grin on his face.
“S
o, she’s there with him? Now?” Michael asked whoever he was talking to. His eyes bugged wide and he glanced up at Tristan. “She what? You’re kidding!” He stood and made his way to the front window so he was further out of ear shot.
Tristan plopped down on the couch trying not to eavesdrop. Yeah, right.
“On the lips? In front of everyone? Ariel, this is wonderful!” Michael’s voice was low, but edged with excitement. He was silent a moment as he listened. “Oh. Oh, I see.”
Tristan glanced over as Michael’s energy seemed to drop a notch. “And what did Noble do after she left?”
Noble? Tristan’s gut clenched. His mom was out with Noble again? He ran his thumb along the edge of the can as the implications of that sank in. Sure, he knew his mom and Noble might’ve gone out once or whatever, but Noble was his friend. Well, he wanted him to be. What if she got all freaky and dumped him and they moved away again? Then what?
Michael snapped his phone shut and returned to the couch with a guarded expression on his face. His weight dipped the cushion as he sat next to Tristan.
He pointed to the controllers on the coffee table. “So, you ready to keep playing?”
Tristan looked up, mixed feelings that he had no name for warring within him. “My mom’s with Noble, huh?”
A flicker of surprise crossed Michael’s face. “Well, uh . . .”
“It’s all right. I get it.” Adults never wanted to tell kids anything. He stood to get some space.
“I’m not sure you do.” Michael’s soft words stopped him. “I would never patronize you, Tristan. Nor lie to you. I just don’t want to betray your mother’s privacy. I think it’s up to her to tell you where she’s been tonight if she sees fit. Not me.”
Oh. “That’s cool.” He turned and started collecting the controllers and putting the game away.
The Halo Effect (Cupid Chronicles) Page 13
