Beneath This Ink (Page 59)

“That works for me.” I squeezed his arm. “Now do you want to eat before it gets cold?”

“This subject isn’t closed. If you think I’m going to stand down and let Titan threaten you—”

“I know. But you also need to trust me. I have a plan.”

Con growled, “I don’t like it. But I do trust you.”

“Good. Then let’s eat.”

I’d forgotten to bring wine, but after we’d finished the lasagna, garlic bread, and salad, I was glad for it. Because I had another idea. And since the rest of my ideas had seemed to unfold without blowing up in my face entirely, I was hoping maybe this one would work out okay too.

“What would you say if I told you I wanted a tattoo?”

Con’s affectionate smile warmed me.

“I’d say I know a guy.”

“Seriously, would you do it? Tonight?”

“What brought this on?” Con asked, one eyebrow quirked.

“Just something I’ve always wanted.”

“A fleur de lis?”

It was what I’d asked for that first time I’d come into Voodoo when Con had laid down the law about the only ways he’d spare me his time. “I’m surprised you remember.”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten anything about you yet, princess.”

“So would you do it?”

Con reached over and covered my hand with his. “Yeah. I’m surprised you have to ask twice. Figured you’d realize that I’d do just about anything for you. Even stow my urge to rip Titan to pieces for thinking he could get away with blackmailing you… and especially because he succeeded, because of me.” Con shook his head. “That part really pisses me off.”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore, and I certainly don’t want you to feel guilty. I made that choice. I’d probably make the same one again if it got me to this rooftop.”

“You’re something else, babe. You really want that tat now?”

“Yep.”

“Then let’s clean up and head down.”

The woman never ceased to surprise me. And I’d found the surprises both good and bad so far—although mostly good.

The bomb she dropped about Titan made me want to dig my old sidearm out of my drawer and hunt the motherfucker down. But I was trying something new: trust. If Vanessa said she was going to take care of it, I was going to trust that she would. I’d gotten over most of my old issues, and the lasagna we’d shared indicated that she was getting over some of hers.

So this was what an adult relationship felt like? With any other woman, I might have missed the variety of my previous lifestyle, but with Vanessa in my bed, I couldn’t even remember a single one of those women. She was the ultimate prize. And I would do my damnedest to cherish her.

I helped her down the last rungs of the fire escape, and the ladder squeaked and groaned as it retracted up into its resting position. At eleven, I’d had to climb on a nearby dumpster and jump for it. To this day I didn’t know what it was about this building that called to me so strongly. All I knew was, once I had the money, I’d bought it. I’d hired a crazy talented, but retired, tattoo artist to spend a year teaching me both the art and the business. I’d always been able to draw, and it had been therapeutic learning to use my hands to create rather than to kill.

I tossed the trash in the garbage and opened the door, letting Vanessa precede me into the shop. She made her way directly to my room, and I flipped on a few necessary lights. I paused, remembering the drawing I’d been working on a few days ago. It was willful blindness for me to draw it and pretend that I didn’t know exactly who I was drawing it for. I ducked into the break room and grabbed it off my desk.

It was a fleur de lis resting in a crown.

Vanessa was waiting in my chair when I entered the room. And she was naked. Buck. Ass. Naked.

I think my heart stopped. But when it resumed, it thudded away in a heavy beat.

“What—”

“Once you told me the only way a woman got time alone with you here was to get a tattoo or get on her knees or back. I decided to go with on my back first and then the tattoo.”

Who the hell is this woman?

I dropped the drawing on the counter. Only a stupid man would turn that offer down, and today I was very, very smart.

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises tonight.”

“I’m going with my gut. It’s a new thing for me. Feel free to stop me at any time.”

That would be a hell no.

“No, I don’t think I will.”

I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, the tip of her nose, her lips, her chin. Her sharply indrawn breath kept me going south. A skim of my lips down her throat. A nip to her collarbone. And then finally my tongue laving the upper slope of her breast. I couldn’t keep my hands out of the show. I cupped her tits and lifted her nipples to my mouth.

Vanessa’s soft moan and tensing body urged me on.

“I love your tits. Love these nipples. Can’t think about them without my cock going rock hard. Can’t help but want my mouth on them all the damn time. Someday, I want to fuck these gorgeous tits and come all over them.”

Her closed eyes fluttered open. “Don’t let me stop you.”

I shook my head. “Not tonight. Tonight, you just handed me a fantasy I’ve had since the last time you sat in this chair.”

“Really? You wanted this… then?”

I laughed, and it came out rusty. “Why do you sound surprised?”