Negligee Behavior

by Shelli Stevens

  “All right, I’m gonna need you to take your shirt off,” Jack instructed.

  Brandy gulped and wrung her hands together. “And my bra, too?”

  Jack’s laugh filled the tiny room.

  “Only if you want to, kitten. Otherwise you can just lower the straps.”

  Her cheeks burned as embarrassment swept through her. Before she could look like any more of a freak, she gripped the bottom of her shirt and tugged it over her head.

  Marco’s blood rushed through his veins at the sight of the bra she wore today, a purple satiny-looking thing. He snuffed out the irritation that came with the knowledge that Jack was also getting an eyeful.

  “So how big are you thinking you want the tattoo to be?” Jack asked, all business.

  “Umm. Not too big. No more than a couple of inches.”

  “Okay. And how well do you tolerate pain? Personally,” he rushed on. “I don’t think a tattoo is painful, but some people straight up lose it.”

  She didn’t answer right away. But Marco noticed her grip on the chair tightening so that her knuckles had gone white. But she straightened her spine and said, “I do all right.”

  “That’s a good girl.” Jack cleaned the area and then put down the small transfer design that had the treble clef on it. Next he smeared some petroleum jelly-like substance over her skin, and then turned on the needle. A soft buzzing filled the room.

  Marco held his ground, telling himself not to step forward and grab her hand for support. She probably resented the fact that he’d followed her in here as it was.

  Jack dipped the tip in ink and then brought it just above her shoulder. “Here we go. I’m just going to do a small line first, okay?”

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  Marco watched her closely. The minute the needle made contact with her skin she flinched, but she set her jaw.

  Jack moved the needle downward to draw the tattoo and her jaw became more rigid, even as her face drained of color.

  Swearing under his breath, he stepped forward and took her hand. Her fingers immediately wrapped around his in a death grip.

  “You doing okay?” he asked quietly.

  She gave the tiniest of nods and after a few minutes asked, “Are we almost done?”

  Marco shook his head and grimaced. “We just got started. Just try to relax, princess. The pain will fade.”

  The fingers around his hand tightened. “Okay. I can handle this.”

  And she did, he realized twenty minutes later when Jack was finishing up and taping gauze over the new tattoo.

  Her cheeks were flushed from the combination of adrenaline and pain; there was a hint of pride in her eyes. A pride he knew was mirrored in his own gaze.

  He leaned down and brushed his lips across her ear. “You did great, princess.”

  Her responding laugh sounded a bit manic. “Are you kidding me? I kept hoping I’d pass out because it hurt so darn bad.” She winced. “Unfortunately it never happened.”

  Marco gave a soft laugh and helped her to her feet. She pulled her shirt back on and cleared her throat. “Could I use the bathroom?”

  “You’ll find it out front,” Jack answered.

  “Thanks, I’ll be back in a minute,” she murmured, but she didn’t move right away as her gaze slipped to Marco’s again.

  Damn, this chick was amazing. Incredible. So sexy. A constant surprise. His blood pounded hard through his veins and he had the same kind of rush as if he’d been the one getting ink. Brandy did this to him.

  Maybe she felt it too, because she stared intently at his mouth for a moment, before darting to the front of the shop.

  Marco watched her go and then nodded over at Jack.

  “Thanks for doing that, man.”

  Jack shook his head. “Not a problem. She handled it pretty well.”

  “I thought so.” He gave another quiet laugh.

  “So…what’s going on? You getting serious about the chick?”

  Marco scowled as he thought about the question. And a helluva question it was too.

  “We just hooked up a few days ago,” he replied ambiguously, not ready to admit he was in way over his head.

  “Yeah, I hear ya.” Jack went back to cleaning up the room, but kept up the conversation. “That’s how Trish and I started. Met at a bar, had a complete fuckfest for a couple days, next thing I knew we were getting married while parachuting.”

  “I remember that. I’m still a little pissed you didn’t invite me to the wedding.”

  Jack guffawed and slapped him on the back. “Yeah. Like you’d jump your ass out of a plane.”

  “No. I wouldn’t. I’m not that crazy.”

  “Not crazy, man, it’s called living life.” Jack’s attention slid past him, and Marco turned to see Brandy in the door.

  “So how much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching behind her to brush her fingers over the makeshift bandage.

  “I got it.”

  She turned to Marco, her eyes widening. “Oh, you don’t have to—”

  “I got it,” he insisted and caught her chin between his fingers. He lowered his head to drop a soft kiss across her lips.

  Her eyelids, which had fluttered shut the minute his mouth touched her, blinked back open. The blue of her eyes seemed extra bright, her pleasure and desire for him making her gaze sharper.

  Jack cleared his throat. “You can come up front and pay when you’re ready, Marco. I’ll be up there.”

  “Thank you,” she finally said quietly.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “We still have an entire stock of fliers to distribute.”

  “Ah, yes we do.” He touched her cheek. “Wanna grab some lunch first?”

  “Mmm. Yeah.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m kind of craving one of those burgers from Dante’s actually.”

  He laughed and led her up front. “Nice. Way to keep the profit in our pocket.”

  The ringing of the phone woke him. Marco slid his arm out from under Brandy and rolled over to answer it.

  He blinked. The clock read seven-thirty in the morning. “This better be good,” he muttered.

  “Hey, it’s Val.”

  “Val?” He paused to yawn. “You don’t have food poisoning again, do you?”

  “Er, no. I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”

  “On?”

  “On Brandy’s birthday.”

  “Yeah? When is it?”

  “Today.”

  He sat upright and looked down at Brandy who was sprawled out over more than half the bed and snoring loud enough to wake the neighbors.

  “Shit, really? How do you know?”

  “Yesterday we were discussing the stigma of being thirty and not being married. She mentioned the big day was today for her.”

  “Damn.” Brandy had mentioned something about that, the night they’d first met. But hell, remembering birthdays had never been his forte.

  “Don’t sweat it. Sebastian and I ordered lots of food and a cake and we’ll give her balloons and shit.”

  “And shit, huh?” He gave a soft laugh. “Thanks, Val. I owe you.”

  “Hell yeah, you do. Anyway. She’s a little vulnerable about the thirty thing, so make her breakfast in bed or something.”

  “I can probably do that.” He yawned. “Okay, see you in a bit.”

  He clicked his phone shut and swung his legs out of bed.

  Brandy stirred next to him, but didn’t wake. She thrust one leg out from under the sheets as she snuggled her cheek deeper into the pillow.

  Moving as quietly as possible, he pulled on his jeans and walked into the kitchen. He dragged his hands over the stubble on his face and opened the fridge.

  The view that met him showed his food supply was in serious decline. Shit.

  He could always cook her another bratwurst. She’d seemed pretty thrilled by it the first time. But it didn’t really seem like a very good birthday breakfast. Not to mention that he only had coffee—no tea.

>   Hell. Maybe he ought to just run down to the small grocer on the corner. He could pick up something and maybe even get a card. Chances were he couldn’t get much, but at least he could get something. Dust off his creative gene a bit.

  The desire to please her, to surprise her, came on sudden and strong. To see the happiness in her eyes and have the reward of her curled up in his arms afterward. She deserved this. This and so much more.

  He grabbed his keys off the banister and headed out the door.

  Brandy woke alone in Marco’s bed. She pushed the sheet off and sat up. Looking around, she let out a slow yawn.

  Her mind was still foggy, but something pricked in the back of her head. Something she should be remembering. The fog cleared and she leaned back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling.

  Today was her birthday. The big 3-0. She waited for the panic and disappointment to sweep through her. The near desperation she’d always felt when she thought about hitting that landmark age and not being married.

  She waited for the familiar emotions to come, but they didn’t. In their place was a strange sense of relief. An unusual calm. Thirty. It was just a number. So what?

  When she thought about her options—being married to Gordon, or having what she had right now with Marco, it was all too clear which side of the coin she preferred.

  She climbed out of bed, more resolute with every passing second. Everyone said that thirty was the new twenty, so why should she act like she was a decrepit old spinster?

  “From now on everything changes,” she muttered. “How I view myself, and my life. If I want to have a little fun, then, darn it, I will.”

  “Are you talking to yourself?”

  Marco came down the hall, a tray in his hand and an amused grin on his face.

  “Yes, and I do it quite often.” She stretched her arms above her head and eyed the tray curiously. “What have you got there?”

  “Breakfast.” He closed the distance between them and dropped a kiss on her mouth. “But not just any breakfast, your birthday breakfast.”

  Light headed from his kiss, it took a second for his words to penetrate. She stepped back in surprise.

  “You knew it was my birthday?”

  He opened his mouth and then shut it again, giving her a rueful smile. “I remembered you said it was coming up, but I admit, Val had to remind me that it was today.”

  “I’d hardly expected you to know the date.” She looked down at the tray in his hands and grinned. “What is all this?”

  He shrugged. “Some of the foods that I know you like. Now back in bed, princess. That’s part of the deal.”

  Brandy giggled and hurried back to bed, sitting up against the headboard and putting a pillow on her lap.

  Marco set the tray on her lap and her breath hitched as she noted the single rose on the tray, and the card beneath it.

  She hadn’t heard him leave, but Marco had to have left the house to get this. She found herself momentarily choking up at the gesture. The simplicity in it. She picked up the rose and breathed in the sweet scent, closing her eyes.

  “I know the food is a little random…”

  Food? She hadn’t noticed the food with the rose and card. She opened her eyes again and took note of what was on her plate.

  “Bratwurst and a waffle. Yummy. You’ve been busy.” She laughed and reached for the card, pulling it from the envelope.

  She scanned it and then giggled, glancing up at him again. “Happy Birthday, Mom?”

  He gave a guilty grin and pointed to the card. “No, you see what I did there? I crossed out the mom part and put your name.” He gave a chagrined laugh. “Sorry, it was the only birthday card they had left at the mini-mart.”

  But still, he’d bought it for her and had made her breakfast. Over the years she’d been given just about any gift possible for her birthday. There was nothing she hadn’t been offered, nothing she couldn’t have had.

  And yet this…this beat it all. Tears pricked behind her eyes. She blinked rapidly and drew in an unsteady breath.

  “Don’t you dare apologize. I’m so…touched. Thank you, Marco.”

  “I know it’s not much—”

  “Stop it.” She lifted her head and met his hesitant gaze. “It’s perfect.”

  Pleasure and relief flickered across his face and then he leaned down to cup her cheek.

  “Happy Birthday, Brandy.”

  “I’ve been eating all day.” Brandy pushed aside her half-eaten slice of cheesecake and groaned. “You guys have been spoiling me.”

  Marco pushed a drink across the bar toward a customer. They hadn’t done a hell of a lot for her, and yet she still seemed pleased. More than pleased. She was on cloud nine. Her smile hadn’t dimmed all morning, her eyes as bright and eager as if it were Christmas.

  “You love it. Admit it.” Val scooped another bite of cheesecake into her mouth and grinned.

  “You’re right. I do. Though I should probably invest in some treadmill time or something after this.”

  “Exercise is overrated.” Marco walked back over to her, smiling slightly. “Especially on your birthday.”

  “Hey, I like the way you think.”

  He touched her shoulder. “You about ready to clock off?”

  “Clock off?” Her tongue darted out to catch a crumb from the corner of her mouth. “Didn’t I just get here?”

  “You’ve been working all morning, princess. We’ve just had a slow day.”

  She looked up at the clock above the bar and she gave a surprised laugh. “Wow, you’re right. My entire shift has passed.” She slid off the bar stool and placed her hands on her hips. “Are you staying late?”

  “A little bit. I promised Val I’d stay later so she could take you out.”

  “You’re taking me out?” she turned back to Val had just finished off her cheesecake. “Where?”

  “Another little educational day.” Val waggled her eyebrows. “It’s called Waxing 101.”

  “Waxing?” Brandy repeated a bit uneasily. “Like ripping out the hair on my body waxing?”

  “One and the same.”

  “Oh. Well then.”

  “I had nothing to do with this and if you want to say no, I’ll totally back you.” Marco’s grin widened. Though he wasn’t about to confess the erotic images running through his head about just what she might be getting waxed.

  She tilted her chin and made a face. “If I could handle a tattoo yesterday, I can certainly handle a little eyebrow waxing.”

  “That’s right.” Val hurried over. “I totally need to see your tattoo.”

  Brandy spun around and tugged her shirt down in the back, showing Val.

  “Sweet. It looks good.” She cast Marco a grin. “And she didn’t faint?”

  “No, she did great.” Marco laughed and shook his head.

  His gaze connected with Brandy’s and she gave him a soft, intimate smile.

  “Real great,” he repeated gruffly.

  “Good.” Val looked from one to the other. “Well, she’ll do just fine then.”

  Marco cleared his throat and turned back to the bar. “Sebastian and I can hold down the fort. Go get your wax on, ladies.”

  “I’ll be out in the car,” Val said, and hopped off the bar stool, striding out the door.

  Brandy hesitated and then approached him on the other side of the bar. “Thank you, Marco.”

  “No problem. Just come back when you’re done and we can head out.” He set down the bar towel. “Maybe go out for a nice birthday dinner if you want.”

  She hesitated and then shook her head. “You know what?”

  “Hmm.”

  “Just ordering a pizza would be perfect. I could use some downtime.”

  She didn’t want some fancy dinner? To be wined and dined on her birthday? He gave a brief nod. “Pizza it is. See you soon, princess.”

  “See you soon.”

  “Hang on.” He came around the bar to her. “You forgot something.”r />
  “I did?”

  “Yeah.” He cupped the nape of her neck and lowered his mouth to hers. Stealing a quick, but all too thorough kiss.

  He lifted his head, the blood in his veins pounding twice as hard.

  “There, now you’re set.”

  “I want your help with something,” Brandy murmured to Val who sat in the corner chair of the waxing room while the aesthetician continued to spread warm wax over Brandy’s eyebrows.

  “Oh yeah? With what?” Val asked, turning the page to a magazine.

  “I want to do a striptease for Marco.”

  Val shut the magazine in a rustle of pages. “No kidding?”

  “No kidding.”

  “My name is Aleksandreyeva. You will close eyes now,” commanded the woman who was about to rip out her eyebrows.

  Brandy shut her eyes and thought about stripping again. “I thought it would be a fun way to be…umm…well, thank him so to speak.”

  “That’s one helluva thank you.”

  “Isn’t it though?” Brandy’s lips twitched. Stripping. Jeez, this was like the epitome of bold for her.

  The aesthetician pressed some kind of paper over the wax and patted it down.

  The striptease idea had hit her as they’d driven past some of the casinos and she’d stared at the billboards of sexy showgirls.

  “So is it something you can help with? Or should I go rent a video?”

  “Good lord, don’t rent a video,” Val pleaded. “I can help. I used to strip a few years ago.”

  “Now,” the lady interrupted. “It hurt since your first time waxing.”

  Brandy drew a deep breath in. Nothing could hurt as much as the—holy hell! She jerked against the reclined chair, half convinced the woman was ripping her face off.

  “There. Not so bad?” The woman frowned. “Oh wait, there is blood. One moment.”

  Val stood up and walked over, looking down at her. “Oh yeah, there is. But damn, check out that arch. It looks great. Your eyes just pop now.”

  “You used to be a stripper?” Brandy gripped the edge of the chair and forced herself to take deep breaths in.

  “Yeah. The money was fantastic,” Val said wistfully.

  “So is that it? Are we done with that side?” Brandy asked hopefully.