Tegan: Exotic Ink Series (Book Two)

by LS Anders

  He jerked as a fist hit his door in quick succession.

  “Hurry it up in there. You’re pretty enough. I got us a back room at that Chicago pizza place you’ve been bragging about.”

  “Give me ten, asshole. I haven’t even gotten in the shower,” Tegan tossed out over his shoulder.

  “What the hell? Stop beating off to pics of Rayna and get your ass moving.”

  “Pfft. Do you want me to come out there and kick your ass?”

  Vehn’s laughter faded off down the hall.

  Tegan had never envied Vehn's fame, and he most definitely didn't after having to hide out in a back room of the pizza place in order to eat a meal in peace.

  Pfft, at the moment, he didn’t envy himself.

  Cautiously scooting over to the edge of the bed, Tegan took the advice he had given Rayna and placed a foot firmly on the floor to halt the spin of his bed.

  He’d had way too many beers with dinner and made the mistake of topping it off with Vehn’s high-end Bourbon as he’d avoided one question after another about the situation between him and Rayna. He always hated sharing, never wanting people peering into his psyche, even though he’d let Vehn in more than he had anyone else. He had to draw a line in the sand when it came to his personal feelings regarding that blonde. Besides, laundry listing his shortcomings to his best friend as to why he wasn’t suitable for her wasn’t high on his priority list.

  As he lies there waiting for sleep to come, his sloshy head had turned into a highway of unwanted thoughts, some moving along faster than others. Wanting the traffic to end, he tried distracting himself by panning his eyes around his lush accommodations, admiring all the millwork and old bricks. He loved old buildings. Something about being inside a structure that had seen its share of history always relaxed him, but that’s where the comfort with his new surroundings ended.

  He’d never felt like he belonged amongst all the expensive furnishings even though he had been invited to stay. His friend had some seriously good taste with large amounts of cash to back it up. He'd had one hell of a time keeping his mouth from hanging loose when Vehn had taken him on the grand tour his first day there.

  Vehn had explained that the building had once been an old church that had been converted into eight separate condos, and he was lucky enough to own one of the two penthouse units.

  Being an old church elucidated to all the floor to ceiling stained glass windows, one of which was in his room— which was down-fucking-stairs, along with two other bedroom and bath combo's, plus a media room. He couldn't have been more shocked when Vehn had led him down a floating chrome staircase to show him the suite where he'd be staying.

  His suite? The only word that came to mind was... damn! It was spacious with high ceilings that managed to dwarf the king-sized bed he was currently sprawled out on.

  There was a ginormous flat screen television mounted on the wall opposite the bed over a long, low slung dresser, and an ungodly amount of closet space that he hadn’t been able to fill with his somewhat limited wardrobe. Let's not forget the en-suite sleek, high-end bathroom that was home to the most complicated steam shower that had ever been manufactured.

  The thing was like something from a sci-fi movie with all the various heads that could be turned in every position imaginable, multi-colored lights, and a whole shit ton of buttons he had yet to figure out.

  Pfft, he couldn’t decide if it was a shower or a time capsule?

  His muddled-up mind entertained the notion that if the contraption could travel back in time, he could transport his ass back to just before he had met Tracy and avoid that happy little interlude all together. Maybe marry Rayna before that useless, dead husband of hers had come along.

  Shifting restlessly on the bed, he really needed to get some sleep, but his mind continued on its never-ending meander, tossing out one thought after another, and Rayna was front and center.

  A snapshot of her big dove gray eyes and soft smile punched him in the heart. Emotions were not his strong suit, and he had spent most of his life practicing pushing them down deep or not having them at all.

  His father had taught him a hard lesson at an early age when he'd abandoned him to the care of a drug infested mother. He learned if he buried his emotions deep enough, they would be kept safe from being trampled into oblivion.

  His childish heart had been forever damaged when the man had left for work never to return home. Tegan could understand his father's need to leave his druggy mother behind, but he would never come to understand why his father had chosen to abandon him along with her.

  Tegan had always blamed his mom for losing the love of his father because of her drugs and had grieved over the loss. But he had not grieved in some time, and now that he was older and looking at the situation through the eyes of an adult, he couldn't stop the bitterness that filled his heart. The man couldn't have been that fucking great of a person if he was able to abandon his own child, so the time he’d wasted grieving just pissed him off even more. After his father had left and Tegan realized the man wasn't coming back, he'd vowed to never love anyone ever again and risk another broken heart.

  Then the Mathieu’s had come along. He and Vehn had become friends back in middle school and that’s when Vehn’s parents had taken him in, selflessly providing him with everything his own parents hadn't, including what he never wanted again... love.

  He never felt as if he'd ever completely fit in with their family, even though Vehn’s mom, Caroline, had gone out of her way to make him feel wanted and loved. It was just something he couldn’t shake, always struggling with his place in their home.

  It was no wonder he'd hooked up with Tracy. She was a safe relationship for him. A person he had just enough in common with that he could still hold at arm’s length, because her drug addiction was a huge wedge that would forever separate them.

  Love was such bullshit anyway, and the people you depended on the most would eventually leave you to flounder on your own. That was a proven fact. But that bastard, Vehn and his family, had somehow weaseled their kind-hearted way into Tegan’s sorry existence, which he would be forever grateful. That’s what made him feel the guiltiest, his lack of gratitude, and how he would never be able to pay them back in kind, because he was such a heartless motherfucker.

  Now Rayna had come along and was slowly dissolving the permafrost that had for so long encased his heart, making him feel again. Every time he laid eyes on her was like drawing an unexpected breath after an inexhaustible suffocation.

  Years of being ignored by his dear sweet mother and pining for an absent father had left a jaded stench on his soul, but his wife, Tracy, had been the one to completely extinguish his light when she killed their unborn baby with her drug abuse.

  Letting his shitty past die in the background, he shifted the foot he had planted on the Brazilian cherry planks that were keeping the bed anchored. Every time he blinked the ceiling would turn in a quick half circle, and shutting his eyes was a definite no-go.

  “Pfft,” he scoffed to the empty room as an absurd thought floated through his liquefied brain. If he were on the other side of the equator, would the room spin in the opposite direction like when you flushed the toilet?

  He could feel the alcohol pumping its way through his system. Lifting his hand, he scratched his goatee before it dropped drunkenly onto his pecs and passed lower to his tight abs. A grin split his face as he recalled the expression on Rayna’s face when she’d looked up at him in awe after he’d pulled his shirt off last night.

  There was no denying he was ripped, having gained massive amounts of muscle weight. Working out was about the only thing he’d found that helped relieve stress and burn off the anxiety that came with watching Tracy take one nose dive after another into a drug addiction she had no intention of giving up, not even for him.

  That was his last thought before his lids slammed shut, his body and mind finally giving into the oblivion he so desperately needed.

  The rest of the wee
k had swept by in a myriad of appointments and rehearsals for Avie and Cale’s wedding planned for the following day. Rayna was glad to be finishing up with her last client. The day had been crazy busy the way Saturdays always were.

  She had barely spoken to Tegan since the night he had held her hair back while she vomited up her guts in front of him. He seemed to be lost in his own head, and she was still feeling rather foolish over the entire incident. And yet, she couldn’t stop the tight squeeze around her heart every time they made eye contact, and he all but ignored her.

  The man was such a mystery. He’d been so attentive at the restaurant and had taken such good care of her that night and the following morning. Maybe since nothing physical had happened between them, he had lost interest. Maybe he was bored with her, thinking she was a lost cause.

  What she needed to do was take the fucking hint and leave him alone, but she couldn’t seem to let him go. It was like knowing you were speeding towards a cliff’s edge, but you kept your foot on the accelerator knowing you were headed for certain disaster. So, naturally the masochist in her was going to try a different approach to regain his attention.

  “Alright,” Rayna carefully covered the freshly applied tattoo ointment with a clean gauze square, “you’re all set, Janie.”

  “Thanks, Rayna. I’ll see you again soon.”

  “Sure thing.” Rayna watched as her client rounded the corner of her room and disappeared out of sight, if for no other reason than to have her eyes pointed in the direction of Tegan working across the hall. Disappointed she hadn’t caught his eye, he was still working on a marathon back piece for a man that had a serious pain threshold.

  Cleaning up her room, she was acutely aware the moment Tegan’s client was gone, leaving the shop nearly void of all prying ears, giving Rayna the opportunity she needed to make her move. Grabbing the magazine, she rushed across the hall before she lost her nerve.

  “Hey, Tegan?” He straightened abruptly and spun around on his heel to face her with a deep trench embedded between his wicked black eyebrows. That expression couldn’t be good. She was obviously bothering him. “Sorry, you’re busy. I’ll come back later.”

  “Get your butt back in here, Rayna.” She halted, turning back around to face him. “What can I do for you?”

  That was a question she could answer in any number of ways. Choosing the least sexually infused one, “Well…. I found this image of a snow leopard, and I was wondering if you’d mind tattooing me.”

  “Let’s see it.” He eyed her as he reached for the magazine she held out towards him, slowly pulling it from her fingertips. She felt the loss of his gaze as he scanned the photograph. “Where were you thinking of getting it?”

  “Upper back, on my shoulder blade,” she said, reaching over her shoulder indicating the spot. “Not very big though. I want to keep it feminine since I’m a girly girl.”

  Tegan took his time raking his eyes over every inch of her. “Pfft, I hadn’t noticed.”

  Unsure of what to make of his comment, she simply stood there blinking back at him like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi-tractor trailer. He seemed extra bristly today, too. She couldn’t decide if the dark, smoldering look he was giving her meant that he wanted to kill her or fuck her.

  “Why don’t you hop up here and let’s take a look at where you’re thinking of placement,” Tegan said, patting his client chair.

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to hold you up from leaving.”

  Tegan didn’t answer, just patted the client chair again for her to sit and continued to regard her with that penetrating blue scrutiny, sizing her up as if he were deciding on how best to devour her. Now she knew what a small woodland creature felt like facing off with the lion in his den, only her increased heart rate was driven by lust and not fear.

  Taking short, quick steps around to the opposite side of the client chair that was reclined back flat as a table, she turned sitting on the edge and slid back to the center on her bottom. Tegan’s gaze never left her. She’d never felt such sexually infused vulnerability in her life. If she had any damn sense at all, she should be terrified of him, but she wasn’t. How could she be after the consideration he had always shown her? He hadn’t even tried to take advantage of her the night he had helped her undress and had shown such respect for her modesty.

  She regarded him over her shoulder as he stalked towards her. His fingers were hot as he touched the zipper at her back, shivering as he slowly slid the metal apart to her waist. If he was trying to seduce her, it was more than working. She was already squeezing her legs together, wetness pooling between her thighs. The tips of his fingers whispered a scorching trail along her shoulder as one side of her dress fell away to her elbow.

  “Oops, sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Evana came to a screeching halt at Tegan’s door, biting her lower lip to keep from smiling. “I was about to lock up, but it looks like you two will be staying a little late.”

  “Tegan was just looking at my back for the best place to tattoo me.”

  “It’s fine, take your time. Everybody else has already gone and don’t mind me, I’ll just lock the front and get out of your hair. If you don’t mind, go out the back door and be sure it lock’s behind you, and set the alarm when you leave.” Evana just looked between the two, amusement twinkling in her amethyst eyes. “So, I will see you two tomorrow at the wedding. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, E.” Rayna’s face nearly combusted.

  “G’night.” Tegan pretended to study the photograph as Evana wasted no time locking the door and flipping off the lights in the lobby. Her black hair flagging out behind her as she raced back down the hall past Tegan’s room to gain access to the spiral stairs in her office that would take her to her apartment above the studio.

  Rayna knew Evana would keep her mouth shut about her and Tegan staying late, even though they really weren’t doing anything inappropriate, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing. Interpreting the interruption as a sign, she set her dress back to rights and started to hop off the chair when Tegan’s hand caught her around the waist.

  “Where are you running off to, Kitten? I thought you wanted a tattoo,” he whispered against her neck.

  She was rewarded with a brush of his silky goatee on her delicate skin as he spoke every heated word, sending a scattering of goose bumps over her flesh.

  “I um… I was… I thought we were finished.” She could barely breathe.

  His sexy laugh came from somewhere deep and erotic as he tightened his grip around her waist, pulling her back towards him, brushing her hair over one shoulder. “But, we’ve barely even gotten started.”

  Her sex bloomed at his throaty words, and she found herself pressing back against his muscular torso. Then he was gone, his heat at her back abruptly vanishing. The pocket door to his room clicked shut, and then he was back, running those amazing fingers along her shoulders, dropping her dress to her elbows along with the straps of her bra. Instinct had her clutching the front of the material over her breasts as she prayed he wouldn’t stop touching her.

  “I think the leopard’s head should be placed around here,” he began, circling a finger slowly over her shoulder blade causing her breath to hitch, “with the tail ending about here. Keep the entire design relatively small and feminine like you want.”

  “Alright.” Came out as a whisper. She wanted so badly to see him, but he remained behind her, toying with her like the predator he was.

  “I wouldn’t go as far down as your bra strap, though,” he breathed against her neck, unhooking her bra and recapturing her around the waist as if she would try and escape him.

  She gasped at the feel of her breasts being released from their silky confines, and the center of her being began to throb painfully, aching desperately for his touch.

  Holy shit! This was really going to happen.

  His hand moved lower from her waist to run down and back up the inside of her thigh. All too briefly, his han
d dipped between her legs to roam over her wet center. Seeking her bare flesh, his hands slipped around to her belly. She let go of the front of her dress, pulling her arms from the sleeves. The material puddled in her lap as she watched his large hands roam up over her stomach to cup her breasts. Biting gently on the side of her neck, he rolled her hardened nipples beneath his palms, squeezing her.

  Moaning at the delicious curling he caused low in her belly, her hips instinctively flexed. Leaning her head back against his shoulder, she raised her arms to reach back and circle around his neck, opening herself completely up to him.

  She had never felt anything nearly as exciting as this with Brent.

  Tegan’s fingers had worked magic on her in that storage room. For the love… she wanted those fingers inside her again. Ached to have them thrust deep, stretching and filling her.

  His head moved from where it rested in the crook of her neck, his long hair brushing her skin as he retreated. Reaching around her, he gathered her legs, lifting them onto the client chair. Gently pushing her back, she lies down fully reclined against the leather upholstery.

  Finally able to see his face, she was shocked to see the single-minded determination set firmly in his jaw. His eyes were dilated, locked onto her breasts. She moved to cover herself.

  His hand stopped her as he cupped one and then the other. She arched into his hands as he rolled each pebbled nipple under his thumbs. Traveling lower, his hands roamed over her belly to her thighs, and then lower as he moved to the foot of the client chair.

  Taking an ankle in each hand, he slowly spread her legs apart. The center of her melted under his heated gaze. That icy blue stare burning her center, making her hips buck as if he had actually touched her. She knew her panties were wet, soaked through, there was no way to hide the evidence of her need for him.

  Her legs now split wide, he placed her feet over the sides of the chair. Trembling from his touch as he ran his hands back up the insides of her thighs, his thumbs brushed along the seam of her panties just inside the sensitive crease of her legs before moving up to grip her waist and drag her down to the foot of the chair.