Bound by Ink (London Inked Boys Book 2)

by Marissa Farrar

  The journey home only took about thirty minutes. She caught the Tube, rocking and swaying with the train on the Northern line, then walking the ten minutes from there to her small, terraced, north London house. She was glad she’d managed to keep hold of the property in the breakup. She’d worried Mike was going to put up more of a fight to keep it, but, with the money he made, he saw it as an investment. The way London house prices were going, by the time they were ready to sell and move on, they’d have both made a decent sum on the place. She also thought Mike was secretly pleased to be able to leave their shabby little terrace behind. He was renting a modern flat on the Isle of Dogs now, and that suited his new lifestyle far better than this place.

  Trouble was, because his name was on the deeds, Mike had a way of thinking this house was still his and that gave him the right to turn up whenever he felt like it. She hadn’t quite had the heart to change all the locks, though it was tempting. It was early days yet, and she’d have to see how things played out.

  Either way, she thought, as she placed the key into the lock, she was glad to be home.

  Chapter Six

  “I can’t believe you didn’t ask her out!”

  Tess’s palm smacked against Kane’s hard shoulder, and he flinched, even though it hadn’t really hurt. “Yeah, I know. I’m a chicken.”

  “Big chicken,” she agreed. “And there I was thinking you were one of these super confident guys who played around.”

  He gave a shrug. “She just seemed different. I didn’t want to look like an idiot.”

  Tess put her hands on her hips. “Well, you do look like an idiot, but to me, not her.”

  “It’s fine. I lost my moment. There was probably a reason for that.”

  Tess rolled her eyes, and he knew it was the end of the conversation. He did feel like an idiot for not asking Holly out, but the moment was gone now. Maybe he’d see her again, in different circumstances. London wasn’t such a big place. Only eight million people or so.

  He walked back into his studio and stopped short, his gaze fixing on something.

  Holly’s mobile phone. She’d put it on the table when she’d received a text message before they’d got started, and she’d forgotten to pick it up again. He stepped forward and picked up the slender, silver device. An idea came to him. He’d only just been thinking that he’d have asked her out if they’d met in different circumstances, and here was fate throwing the opportunity of a different circumstance right in his lap. He generally wasn’t a superstitious kind of guy, but this seemed wrong to ignore.

  Turning back the way he’d come, he went out to reception. Tess lifted her head in surprise at seeing him again so soon, and he waved the phone at her.

  “Do we have any contact details for Holly McCarty? She left her phone.”

  “Sure, she left her mobile number, but I’m guessing that’s not much use.”

  They both glanced down at the phone in his hand.

  “No, I guess not.”

  “But she must have put her address on the waiver form she filled in.”

  His pulse stepped up a notch in anticipation of the plan which was starting to pull together in his mind. “She did?”

  “Yeah, she did.”

  “Maybe I should drop it into her, then,” he said. “I mean, she might not remember where she left it, and she might be stressing out.”

  Tess pressed her lips together and nodded knowingly. “Yes, that’s true.” She looked at the computer screen where they had the client list for the rest of the day. “And you don’t have anyone else due in with you today. So you’re free to take it to her.”

  Excitement pulsed through his veins, but he tried to rein himself in. He might get her to house and discover she had a boyfriend. Of course a woman like her had a boyfriend. Even so, that didn’t stop him feeling eager about the prospect of seeing her again. How would she react? Would she be pleased to see the phone, maybe throw her arms around him in a hug of relief, press those beautiful tits up against his chest and squeeze him tight? That in itself would be enough.

  “Okay, I’m outta here,” he said, grabbing his jacket.

  Tess grinned. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  “And ask the girl out!” Her voice chased him as he let himself out of the door.

  Kane wasn’t someone who normally got nervous around women. He was the cocky one, the one who was so sure of himself, yet somehow this particular woman had disrupted all of that. He had her address scrawled on a piece of paper, folded up in the pocket of his jeans, and he found himself constantly reaching back in, making sure it was still there, fingering the corners until they were worn and soft. He considered getting the Tube, but ended up flagging down a taxi instead, and telling the stranger driving the home address of this woman who had affected him so badly.

  He’d had plenty of women—women whose names he couldn’t even remember now. There had even been the occasional relationship, but they’d never made it past a few months. The relationships always fizzled out, so there hadn’t even been dramatic breakups, just longer times between phone calls and hookups, until eventually neither of them bothered calling each other to set up another date. None of them had sent his heart racing the way Holly had, though, or turned him into a tongue-tied mess. He still wanted to hit his head against the wall for implying she had fat hips. They weren’t fat. They were voluptuous and creamy and now had his artwork imprinted on them. The scent of her skin while he’d been tattooing her had made his mouth water, the heat of her soaking through his skin whenever he’d needed to rest his forearm against her to get the right position to do the tattoo affecting him.

  Yeah, he wanted her physically, but it wasn’t just that. Most girls who came into the studio chatted constantly about themselves—what bands they’d seen, where they liked to eat, gossip about random people he didn’t even know—but Holly had been quiet. It hadn’t come across as shyness, though. No, it was more that she hadn’t felt the need to fill in the silence with inane chatter. She’d been content just to lie there and let him get on with his work.

  The taxi driver pulled up, and Kane craned his neck to take in the sight of the modest, terraced row of houses. They had bay windows and high ceilings with cornices. He knew these types of houses. He’d grown up in one on the other side of the city in East London. Stupidly, he relaxed a little at the sight of the house, and that it wasn’t some three million pound mansion. But what if she wasn’t in? She might not have gone straight home after the tattoo, and gone out somewhere, or met someone else. Would he need to put the phone through her letterbox or something? Doing so would mean he’d lost his only opportunity.

  There was no point in trying to predict the future. Kane threw twenty quid at the driver and then faced Holly’s house. It was impossible to see if anyone was in. Wooden slatted blinds covered the downstairs windows, angled just enough to let some light in, while keep peering eyes out.

  Nerves jangled his insides. This was stupid. He was a grown man returning a phone. He needed to remember he had some balls.

  He took a breath and marched up to her front door and rang the bell before he got the chance to chicken out. He stood, anxiously, trying not to shuffle from foot to foot but look as though he was supposed to be there. Him, with his long hair, and tats, and cut off t-shirt. The imposter feeling sank in again, the idea this woman was way out of his league.

  For a moment, he didn’t think she was going to answer the door, and his thoughts about her being out were correct, but then he sensed movement on the other side. He caught a glimpse of a shape in the frosted glass panel, and to his surprise, the door open.

  Holly had changed out of her jeans into a dress, so she didn’t have the waistband rubbing the new tattoo. He wondered if that might have been a better outfit to get the tattoo done in the first palace but then he realised he’d have had needed to pull the dress right up, exposing the full length of her curvy thigh, her panties, and hip. The image flashed in his mind, and blood r
ushed to his cock in a sudden tingle.

  Her mouth dropped at the sight of him, her blue eyes widening even further at the sight of him. “Kane?”

  “Err, hi. Sorry to drop by on you like this, but you left something at the studio.”

  “My phone,” she said instantly, and her shoulders dropped with relief. “I’ve just been turning my bag upside down trying to find it.”

  He remembered and pulled the phone out of his jeans pocket before handing it to her. “I would have called and let you know where it was, but the only number we had was your mobile, so...”

  She glanced down at the phone now in her hand and then laughed—a deep laugh, one that came from right inside her chest—and surprised him. “Yeah, of course. You’d have been calling yourself.”

  He grinned at her response. “Exactly.”

  They stood, staring at each other again, exactly the same way as they’d done when they’d first come face to face in the studio. In his head, he could hear Tess’s voice. Ask her out! Ask her out!

  “So, err...” He scuffed his foot along the floor, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, feeling about fifteen years old and about to ask the hottest girl at school out. “I wondered what you were doing for the rest of the day. I mean, if you wanted to get a drink, or something to eat, or ... something...” he finished lamely.

  Her eyes widened again, and a flush of pink appeared high in her cheeks, so she appeared even more beguiling. “A drink? Like out? With people?”

  “Well, just the two of us, but in public, so yeah, I guess there will be other people there.”

  “Like, now?”

  He flapped a hand in the direction of the street. “Only if you want to. I mean, I’m free, but we can rearrange...”

  She lifted a finger in a ‘one minute’ gesture. “Can you just give me a sec?”

  “Yeah, ‘course.”

  “Okay. I’ll be back.”

  And the door shut in his face, leaving him blinking at the wood, not totally sure what had happened.

  Chapter Seven

  Holly pressed herself up against the door, her heart racing, breathing hard. Did she really have a hot tattoo artist on her front step, asking her out for a drink? Unless she’d imagined the last couple of minutes, it certainly seemed that way.

  But what about the woman who’d been working at the studio? Hadn’t Holly suspected they were dating? Maybe she’d got it wrong. It was definitely something she’d need to ask him. She wasn’t ever going to be the other woman. Especially not after what had happened with Mike.

  Kane had caught her unexpectedly. She’d already changed when she’d arrived home, but now she flew up to the bathroom, to rake her fingers through her hair so it didn’t look like such a tangled mess, and throw on some extra makeup. She wished he’d given her more time, but this felt like it wasn’t really happening, and if she asked to rearrange, she knew she’d either never find the time to meet him or he would change his mind. She didn’t normally do this kind of thing, but maybe the new tattoo had made her a little braver, a little more dangerous.

  She slipped her feet into some sandals and pulled down a cardigan from the back of her bedroom door. They were nearing the end of summer, but it was still warm outside. Only once the sun went down could you tell autumn was edging its way in.

  Snatching up her bag and trying to quell the flutter of nerves in her stomach, Holly went to her door. She should have invited him in to wait instead of leaving him on her doorstep, but it had felt too personal. She didn’t want him seeing all her photographs and asking questions. Not yet, anyway. Not when they hadn’t even shared a proper conversation.

  She opened the front door to find him sitting on the step, his arms slung around his knees, leaning forward slightly. She took the moment to admire his easy stance, the way his t-shirt pulled over the muscles of his back, the bulk of his biceps. He looked like someone who was just naturally built that way—as though he hadn’t seen the inside of a gym, ever. Mike was someone who needed to work out, and even with a regimented three gym sessions a week, he was still barely holding back the middle-aged spread. That was the benefit of youth, you didn’t even have to try.

  He must have noticed her coming out, as he twisted to look over his shoulder squinting in the sunlight, his hair falling in his face. He jumped to his feet when he saw her, a grin lighting his face. She still had no idea what this young guy saw in her, but he’d made the effort to track her down at her home, so there must be something.

  “Hey,” he said with a grin. “You ready?”

  “Yeah. Where are we going?”

  He faltered. “I hadn’t actually thought that far ahead.”

  She was about to suggest a nice pub around the corner which had a lovely beer garden, but then she remembered it was the same place she and Mike always used to go. It wasn’t as though it would feel weird to be there with someone else, but she didn’t want people seeing her out. It was stupid really. She and Mike were long separated, but the idea of people gossiping about her made her uneasy. Was it because of how Kane looked? If he was suited and booted, with a barbershop haircut, would she be feeling so awkward about people seeing her with him? She didn’t want to be that kind of woman—the one who cared what other people thought about her—but the truth was she had more than just herself to think about.

  “You know what,” she said, “how about we go in to Covent Garden for a drink? I haven’t been there for years.”

  The busy tourist district also meant anonymity. There wouldn’t be anyone there she’d be likely to bump into. Visiting places like Covent Garden always seemed like something people who lived in London would do all the time, but often she found she barely made it out of her own suburb, and even then it was only ever to do with something for work.

  “Sounds good to me.” Kane shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

  They walked towards the nearest Tube station, both flashing cards at the machines to allow them through the turnstiles and onto the trains. Covent Garden was only a fifteen-minute ride away, and before they knew it, they were spilling out onto the busy street, joining the thousands of tourists who were also visiting the place.

  They found a spot outside one of the café bars, the chairs and tables spreading out across the cobbled square. A live band was playing, and people danced, a mother holding a child on her hip and bopping up and down with her, while the little girl squealed and threw her head back. Holly couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

  “What can I get you to drink?” he asked.

  She reached for her purse. “Oh, let me give you some money.”

  He frowned at her and shook his head. “No chance. I asked you out, I’m buying.”

  She smiled. “Okay, thanks. A glass of Sauvignon Blanc, thanks.”

  He vanished inside, and she watched the crowds until he reappeared, a glass of chilled white wine in one hand and a bottle of beer for himself in the other.

  “So, how’s the tattoo feeling?” he asked as she picked up her wine and took a first sip. It was ice cold and crisp, just how she liked it.

  “A little sore,” she admitted. “But I can’t wait to see what it looks like when it’s fully healed.”

  “It’ll look amazing,” he said. “You had some great suggestions about what you wanted. There’s nothing more annoying than someone coming in and asking for a tattoo, but having no idea what they want. Why would you want something permanently on your body when you don’t even know what you like or don’t like?”

  “I’ve wanted this tattoo for years now. Ever since I was in my early twenties.” She realised she was almost giving her age away. Not that it was a secret, but she knew he was younger than her and didn’t want him to see her as some old maid.

  “Why didn’t you get it back then?”

  “Oh...” She shrugged. “I had an ex who didn’t like them, and I was young and stupid and allowed his opinion to influence me too much.”

  “So he’s an ex for a reason, then,” Ka
ne said.

  “Yeah, exactly. And now I have a tattoo, he will most definitely stay an ex.”

  His expression faltered slightly. “He’s still on the scene?”

  She realised what she’d said. “Not like that. He’s one of these guys who doesn’t want me, but doesn’t want to let go either. He just likes to pop up now and then when I’m least expecting it.”

  Kane’s handsome face creased in a scowl. “Sounds like a dick.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, he is. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about him.” She’d taken a few more sips of her wine and was starting to relax. She remembered the American back at the studio, and how she’d promised herself she would ask. “How about you? Any exs or girlfriends ... on the scene?”

  “Nope.” He held her gaze. “I’m all yours.”

  Her stomach flipped, her cheeks heating. “Nothing between you and the pretty American, then?”

  He frowned at her, as though he didn’t know who she was referring to, and then burst out with laughter. “Oh, fuck, no. That’s Tess. She’s the boss’s girlfriend. They live together upstairs.”

  She allowed herself to exhale. The moment had left her flustered, and she gave a small laugh that didn’t sound like her own. “Oh, right. Of course.”

  He leaned in towards her, his brilliant green eyes narrowed slightly. “Did you think there was something going on between me and Tess?”

  Heat rushed to her face. That was exactly what she’d thought. She flapped a hand in the air to try to hide her embarrassment. “It was nothing. I just thought I saw something pass between you.”