BOUND BY INK
LONDON INKED BOYS
BOOK THREE
Copyright © 2018 Marissa Farrar
License Notes
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.
Publisher’s Note
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Copyright Page
Bound by Ink (London Inked Boys, #2)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Forged with Ink
Chapter One
About the Author
Other Contemporary Books by the Author
Hard-bodied, tattooed, and British... Meet the men of London tattoo studio, Carved in Ink.
Men like Kane Dalton shouldn’t be interested in women like Holly McCarty.
When she walks into the tattoo studio where he works, he is instantly obsessed. She’s sweetness and sin all swirled up into one glorious package and then poured into jeans so tight they should be illegal. Leaning over that creamy skin for hours while he works, only leaves him begging for more.
But though he’s supposed to be the bad boy, Holly is the one with secrets.
One night with her is never going to be enough. Can they work through the wreckage of Holly’s life, or will their romance be over before it even begins?
*Please note, each of the ‘London Inked Boys’ stories follows a different couple and can be read as a standalone, but they’re probably best read in order.
Chapter One
Holly McCarty stood on the street outside the tattoo shop, trying not to be intimidated by the graffiti on the walls or the fact it wasn’t exactly located in the nicest part of London. This place, Carved in Ink, had come recommended to her by a friend, and, when Holly had posted about it on a local forum, asking for people’s experiences, she’d received nothing but positive comments.
This would be her first tattoo. She’d wanted one for years now, but her ex had told her how cheap he thought they made women look. She’d agreed with him, not wanting to start another fight, while all the while coveting the styles of those funky young women with the sleeve tattoos and the cool hairstyles.
But she was thirty-two now and thought she was past all of that, but a discreet tat that meant something to her didn’t seem like such a big deal.
She’d already made the appointment ahead of time, had emailed the artist the picture she wanted. Still she hesitated, nerves churning her stomach. She was excited too, though. This marked a new chapter in her life. A way of drawing a line under the past and moving forward.
Plus, it would mean her ex wouldn’t come near her again. It would be good to have something permanently on her body that he hated. A kind of fuck you in ink. He wouldn’t be able to come back again if she had a tattoo.
A group of lads, in their late teens she reckoned, swaggered towards her on the pavement. They’d already noticed her just standing there, and she didn’t want them to walk past, intimidating her. They were probably harmless, but she couldn’t help feeling self-conscious.
Holly forced her brain to switch off and took a couple of hurried steps towards the shop before the young men reached her. She pushed open the door to a tinkle of a bell. Rock music was playing from speakers embedded in the walls, no doubt controlled by something technical she didn’t understand—Bluetooth or whatever it was called—but it wasn’t deafeningly loud.
A young woman with shiny brown hair and large dark eyes sat on the other side of the counter. She’d been scrolling through something out of sight on the computer in front of her but clicked it off when she noticed Holly had walked in. The sight of the other woman made something inside Holly relax. She knew three guys worked here and was glad to see it wasn’t a fully male environment.
“Hey,” said the woman, and Holly noted the accent, American maybe, or possibly Canadian. She’d always struggled to tell the difference. It was the same with the Australians and New Zealanders, though she’d never admit it to anyone. “What can we do for you today?”
Holly smiled back, nerves still knotting her stomach. “I have an appointment for eleven. Holly McCarty?” She said her name as though it was a question.
The woman’s smile widened. “Sure, Holly. Take a seat. You’re booked in with Kane. You already know what you’re having?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been emailing Kane, and he’s got the picture.”
Tattoos climbed up the woman’s wrist and inner arm. Holly figured you couldn’t work in a tattoo shop without acquiring some yourself. But then she realised the tattoos hid something beneath and found herself staring too long, trying to figure out what she was looking at. Scars. The tattoos were covering a number of scars carved into the other woman’s arm.
Holly’s cheeks flamed with heat, and she averted her eyes, understanding that she’d unwittingly uncovered something private about the brunette. She flicked her gaze back up to the woman’s face and smiled again, trying to hide her awkwardness.
The other woman didn’t seem to have noticed, or, if she had, didn’t appear to be bothered by Holly’s scrutiny. “Cool.” She nodded over to the few chairs pushed up against one of the walls. A coffee table with magazines was positioned in front of the chair, and a water cooler was in the corner. “Take a seat. Kane won’t be long.”
Holly did as instructed and sat with her bag clutched on her lap, trying to stop her feet tapping up and down with nerves. She really wanted this, but still the worries that this is permanent and what if I end up hating it, went through her head. No, she needed to focus on her reasons for wanting the tattoo—how it was her way of reclaiming her body again. No one else got to have a say in what she did to her own skin. Anyway, the tattoo, though detailed, was only a few inches long and would be easily hidden in her chosen spot on her hip.
One of the adjoining doors opened, and Holly sat up straight, her heart lurching.
A man stepped out. “Holly?”
She jumped to her feet to face him, and only then did her nerves allow her a moment to assess the man who’d be permanently inking her skin. Her stomach flipped, sparks lighting her nerve endings, her breath catching.
This was exactly the type of guy her seventeen-year-old self would have gone crazy over. He was a little less than six feet tall and well built. Blond hair hung to his squared jaw, which was peppered with stubble a couple of shades darker. His cut-off t-shirt exposed muscular bare biceps that were scrawled in tattoos. But his eyes were the most gorgeous part of him—green, with flecks of gold that you could only see when you were up this close, and with him staring into your eyes as deeply as you were staring into his...
The realisation that they were staring
at each other seemed to hit them at the same time, and they both glanced away, Holly’s cheeks burning hot for the second time in a matter of minutes.
She was not that seventeen-year-old girl anymore. She was thirty-two, mature, and with responsibilities. This guy probably wasn’t even thirty yet. Far too young for her, and not her type in the slightest now. She thought of her ex-husband, of the expensive suits he wore to work and the flash new car he drove. He’d told her when they’d first met that he’d take care of her and she didn’t need to work, but she was thankful every day that she’d laughed at his offer and continued in her job in Human Resources anyway. It allowed her that little bit of independence now, though she was in no way living in the kind of luxury he’d afforded her. Not that Holly cared about that. She’d have rather lived in the gutter than spend another day under the same roof as him.
Chapter Two
Business had been a little slower today, and Kane had taken extra care and time over the job he’d been waiting for. He’d been excited for the client to see what he’d come up with, so when Tess, who now worked the reception desk, called in to tell him the client had arrived, he’d jumped to his feet, eager to get started.
But now he found himself in front at the client in question, and they were both just standing there, staring. Neither of them had said a word, and his mind raced, knowing this was his territory and he was supposed to make the first move, but finding himself unable to get his mouth to form any of the words his brain was coming up with.
Holly. That was her name. Holly McCarty.
It had seemed like such an ordinary name. Something that couldn’t possibly belong to its owner.
No, this creature in front of him now was like a glowing, golden being. He’d have sworn sparks of light leapt from her, capturing him in some kind of electrical force field that rendered him utterly useless.
Her jeans looked as though they’d been sprayed on, highlighting a pair of curvy hips and a waist that nipped in so tight he thought he’d be able to put his hands right around it. An urge to walk around the back of her to get a view of her arse took hold of him, and he had to press his feet to the floor to prevent them taking off on their own accord. Her blonde hair fell in a silky sheet past her shoulder, and she regarded him with wide blue eyes that had only the slightest hint of makeup to define them. Oh, she was sweetness and sin all swirled up into one glorious package and then poured into jeans so tight they should be illegal. Her mouth was incredible; full lips, naturally pouty—not like most of the girls they got in here, with their dumb faces they pulled while taking three hundred selfies a day. He stared at her mouth, imagining sliding things between those perfect lips—a straw, his finger, his dick...
His cock jumped and he swiftly tried to think of something else. This tattoo was going to take a couple of hours, and he couldn’t spend that much time so close to her skin with those kinds of thoughts running through his head. Besides, she looked respectable—despite the jeans—and deserved more than to be perved over by her tattoo artist.
A throat cleared nearby, and he jumped. Fuck, Tess was still standing behind reception, now watching them both with a knowing expression of amusement on her face.
“I think Holly is ready for you now, Kane,” she said in her American drawl.
“Uh, yeah, course.” He gave Holly a bashful grin and tugged his hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. “Come this way.”
How the hell was he going to manage spending the next couple of hours hunched up over that creamy skin, inhaling the scent of her and trying to make small talk when he’d struggled to do so much as utter her name?
He gestured towards his studio, and she slid past him, giving him the opportunity to take in the sight of that bottom wiggling from side to side as she walked. Fucking hell, he could balance a pint glass on that thing. She was like a modern day Marilyn Monroe.
He glanced over to find Tess still watching him. She widened her eyes, silently telling him to cut it out. It wasn’t as though Tess had any interest in him, far from it. Tess was playing happy families with his boss, Art, and she also owned the building the tattoo studio leased. Tess had inherited this place after her aunt had died, and moved over to London from the States, only to start up a relationship with Art. Seemed like things were going pretty damned well between them. Kane himself was content enough being a single guy, but, though he’d never admit it out loud to anyone, whenever he saw the way Tess and Art were around each other—their easy affection, teasing, and laughter—something in his chest tightened. He told himself he was fine playing the field, but he was twenty-seven now, and at some point he guessed it might be nice to have someone around who actually gave a shit about him for longer than one night.
He forced himself to remove his gaze from Holly’s arse as she walked into the room and dropped her bag to the floor.
“Take a seat,” he said, his voice coming out almost comically squeaky.
She glanced over her shoulder at him, those big blue eyes wide enough for him to fall into. “Right there?” She gestured to the chair opposite his, beside the computer.
He nodded, and cleared his throat. “Yeah.”
She did as he’d instructed and crossed her legs, and then uncrossed them again. It occurred to him that she was probably nervous, too, but her nerves had nothing to do with him being in the room, he was sure. She looked way out of his league. Classy, educated. Like she’d be married to some broker in the city. In fact, she wasn’t the type of woman he normally got in his bed at all.
Kane dropped into the seat opposite, and, to hide how he felt, launched into work mode. “This is your first tattoo then, Holly?”
“Yeah, it is. My—”
She cut herself off, as though she was about to say something else but then held herself back. “I’ve been wanting one for ages,” she said instead of the thing she’d been about to say.
“And how are you with pain?”
She gave a small laugh. “I’ve had worse than a needle.”
He wondered what she meant by that, but didn’t push for more detail. When in the chair, people told you what they wanted to tell you. Some liked to chat to take their minds off the feel of the needle puncturing their skin a thousand times over, while others went silent, focusing in on themselves as a way of meditating against the pain. Of course, he’d had the occasional client who’d cried and moaned the whole way through—often the men more than the women—some not even making it to the end of the tattoo and having to come back another day, which they normally did. There weren’t too many people with half-finished tattoos wandering around London.
Her phone buzzed in her bag, and she lifted her hand, a silent gesture to ask him for a moment to grab her phone.
He nodded to show it was fine, and she quickly took the phone out of her bag, checked the messages. A frown tugged her perfect features downward, and he wondered what had happened to cause such an expression. She didn’t seem like the type of woman who should ever be sad or have anything to worry about.
“Sorry,” she said, slipping the phone onto the small table beside her.
They were going to be here a couple of hours, so he figured she wanted to keep the phone handy in case whoever had texted needed to contact her again.
“No worries. Everything okay?”
She seemed distracted, but fixed a smile on her face and nodded. “Yeah, absolutely. Nothing to worry about.”
Discretely, he checked out her left hand. Was she married? There wasn’t a ring on her finger, but there was the faintest line of white, or perhaps it was just the light.
He tore his gaze away from her. He needed to concentrate. The last thing he wanted was to mess up and have a client put in a complaint against him. It wouldn’t only look bad on him, it would reflect badly on the whole studio.
Kane cared about the tattoo studio, Carved in Ink. Art had taken a chance on him by giving him a job when many wouldn’t. The trouble he’d got into when he’d been younger had been a red
flag to most, even when he’d been desperate to start afresh and lead a decent life. People didn’t seem to understand that if you’d been in trouble, it was like a vicious circle. Even when you wanted to get out of it, no one would even give you an interview, meaning you had little choice but to fall back on the crime that had got you into trouble in the first place. Art had seen a spark of talent in him and allowed Kane to develop his skills, offering nothing but support and encouragement, despite having problems of his own to deal with. His boss had put absolutely everything he had into the shop, and Kane wasn’t about to start messing things up for him. This place had almost burned down a few months back. The whole studio had been refurbished since a fire a couple of months ago, which had almost ended in tragedy. But the shop had come back better and stronger than ever.
He turned his attention back to the job at hand.
“So, going on the pictures you sent me, I drew up what you wanted. It’s on the computer, so I can alter the size as you want, and I’m always happy to freehand any changes as well. What do you think?”
He spun the computer screen around so she could see his work.
Chapter Three
The tattoo Kane showed her was absolutely stunning.
A beautiful koi fish in red, orange, and yellow looked as though it was moving across the screen, droplets of water splashing from its fins and tail. It wasn’t a copy of any one of the pictures she’d emailed, but a completely new one all of her own. No one else would have this exact tattoo.
Her nerves fell away. “My God, Kane. It’s gorgeous. You drew that?”
He grinned and raked his hand through his hair. A habit of his, she thought, just from the small amount of time she’d spent with him. “Sure.”
“It’s incredible. So lifelike. Will it look the same as a tattoo?”
“Pretty much. Some of the colours may appear a little duller over time, but otherwise it will be the same.”
Bound by Ink (London Inked Boys Book 2) Page 1
