Bare Skin: A Billionaire Romance (3 page)

One of the girls started to flaunt herself around the front, hips swinging out with more exaggeration than necessary.

Her lips were moving rapidly, brows shifting like small critters holding on for dear life.

But the other girl, she caught my attention. Standing back, her eyes wildly scanned around the room. The nerves riding her spine were visible with no more than one glance.

Even the small screen couldn't hide her fingers twining around each other, foot twisting awkwardly into the floor.

God I hope this is quick. Turn them away and tell them you're busy.

That's all you have to do.

Grunting, I pushed away from the desk, and walked out front. “What can I do for you?” The words felt as cold as ice. No emotion, no curiosity, only the letters that formed them built the tone.

The enthusiasm I branded on a typical day was locked inside my deadline, I didn't have room for games tonight.

Normally I was excited to have an unplanned visit, they were always fun.

Some of my best work was done on the fly. The excitement and energy of a person living life in the moment, breathing for time as it stood right in front of their face, it gave my fingers strength.

For a lot of people a tattoo held meaning, a special place in their world that was only for them and their memories. And I was the lucky one to brand them with it.

But tonight I had shit to take care of. I didn't have time to babysit two girls who seemed so out of place. I didn't have time to hold their hand and tell them how amazing and life changing a tattoo could be.

Sure, I could have just closed down shop, turned the open light off and locked myself away inside. Except I'd never been able to do that.

The lights stayed on till three in the morning, and it was only one. That wouldn't make for good business, your reputation was everything around here.

And I held my reputation high, my name had weight, people knew who I was and respected me.

Respect was what ran this city, it gave me everything I needed. Everything I'd ever wanted and missed in the life I held before.

Getting into the habit of closing the doors early would only mean I'd lose everything I'd built, and I'd end up hitting the bottle at some point.

My life would spiral back down into the abyss I had worked so hard to crawl out of. The darkness would grab hold of my ankle, swooping me off my feet, and back into its endless hole.

I couldn't let that happen. That would destroy me, just like it had so many times before, just like it stole my family.

The life before I found my voice; my words in skin.

I'd been sober for over two years; two long, hard, worth every minute years. The more time I spend doing shit, the less trouble I got into.

I put too much effort into this place to let it dissipate into dust right in front of my eyes. Everything I had, everything I built around my name; it cemented my place in this city, gave me authority and leverage to have anything and everything I'd ever wanted.

And I took it, claimed it, called it mine.

Because that's what it was, it was all mine.

Looking the girls over, I could tell exactly who the ring leader was.

The girl with reddish hair had a smile gleaming across her jaw, fingers dancing excitedly as she flipped through my portfolio on the front desk.

Definitely the driver of this little pop in.

She didn't look shy or nervous, but she did look a bit tipsy. Her feet wobbled slightly in her heels, legs anchoring down into the carpet to keep steady.

Yeah, this is what I need. Two drunk girls, who probably want matching tattoos.

Red was cute, but not my type; she was too tall, and lanky. There was no meat on her bones, and I swear if I had a drumstick I would've been able to play chopsticks across her ribs.

Her makeup was as bright as her dress, the gold dusting meant to coat her lids was thick and pasty. Fake lashes expanded like long fingers over her eyes, spreading like wings of a raven instead of the sexy wisps of wind-blown flowers.

Instinctively my eyes were drawn to the motionless girl set in the background. With bright blonde hair, a body to die for, and the face of an angel; she was easy to get lost in.

There was no packed clay across her skin, no magnified color to steal her perfection. Small breasts sat high upon her chest like perfect raindrops. Just the right size to lick up in one slurp, sucking them deep into my mouth.

I hated anything fake and made of plastic; it was unnatural. A cheap way to divert the eyes from the ugliness hidden beneath the surface.

And if you asked me... A complete waste of money.

Now, I'm not talking about reconstructive surgery for an accident of deformity that needs correction, and is out of that person's control. No, I'm talking about ordinary people who just demand to have what they think is better, or needed.

It was insane the amount of cash someone was willing to pay to have the body they were given turned into a Barbie doll. I never understood it.

How could they let a doctor take what they were born with and make it plastic?

What was the purpose?

I knew the answer, and it was just as sad as it was simple.

It was all because of media backlash over what was acceptable. Because of popular magazines declaring what woman or men should look like.

It was because the world had decided women over a size eight were plus sized, and that men should have calves as large as their biceps. To me it was complete bullshit.

All the lipo, the injections, the silicone, it was disgusting. A mask that needed upkeep, replacements, and followups to make sure nothing was infected or burst.

Fuck that.

Every body was perfect the way it was made. We all have our own flaws, we all have our own likes and dislikes. But to willingly go under the knife to try and find your ultimate happiness...

Pointless.

I know I might sound hypocritical. I layer skin with ink that wasn't meant to be there. I'm sure a lot of people would say it's the same thing, but it's not, it's far from it.

I'm not changing their body into a completely different form, I'm adding to the beauty it already displayed.

Tattoos are an art, an expression of someone and their personality, or the life they've led. You can learn a lot about someone from the ink they wear.

My suggestion, take the time to ask them about it, see what you learn.

The blonde shifted on her feet, my eyes immediately drawn to her hips curving in below the ribs. She was fitted with a starring hour glass figure my fingers could stroke for days.

I couldn't pull my eyes off her, she was stunning.

Standing a foot behind her friend, she chewed on her bottom lip, teeth nibbling away the color. She looked more reserved, and shy. Her hands were wrapped tightly behind her back, legs crossed over each other as she stood plastered in place with bare feet.

“We...” The red haired woman flicked a finger between her and her cute friend. “Want to get tattoos. Right, Lo?” Shooting her friend a playful glance, she looked back at me.

“Well, this is the right place for that. Do you know what you want to get and where?”

I can only hope you do. Make this as easy as possible for me. Please.

Pressing a finger to her lips, the redhead's eyes flirted in my direction. “What do you recommend? I mean as far as places go?” Tugging her skirt up higher, she dipped a toe into the floor. “Because I'll get tattooed any place you'd like to see. My body is willing, and so am I.” Her hand slipped up her side, wrapping over her breast.

Is she for real? No, thank you. But your friend... She's worth exploring.

Taking a heavy breath, I looked over her shoulder to the quiet blonde. “Do you know what you want?”

She didn't speak, only shaking her head with uncertainty. Her eyes were held open wide, a delicate fear sitting in the darkness of her pupils. Tight curls floated over her collarbone, spiraling up into her scalp.

Instantly I saw myself twining my fingers deep inside, letting the silky strands tighten against my palm as I pulled.

A little tug might calm her nerves, it might ease the tension coiling inside her belly.

No, not tonight. Deadline, you have a deadline.

“Well, it seems to me you ladies haven't thought this through. How about you guys go home, think it over, and come back when you have a better idea of what you'd like to get.”

The redhead turned bright crimson. Her skin enhanced five shades, the pale white turning bright cherry. I was pretty sure if her eyes could have shot lead slugs at me, she would have.

She doesn't like being told no. One of them... Great.

I knew this wouldn't be simple.

“Excuse me?
I'm here, ready for one now, and you're saying you won't do it?” Her hand snapped to her hip, jaw crooking to the side.

Holding my hand up, I said, “Look, tattoos are permanent. If you're going to get one, I really think you should know what you want. The last thing I need is to cement your skin in ink that can't be erased if you don't like it tomorrow when you wake up.”

Slamming a finger onto my portfolio, she pushed her nail in hard, denting the picture. “I want this.”

Cringing to the sight of my damaged photo, I shook my head. “That's not how I do things around here,” I said, stepping to the album and closing it. “These are pictures of other people's tattoos. I can draw you up something similar, but I won't draw the same exact image for you. Each one I do is unique to the person.” Brushing past the fire faced girl, I stepped to her friend. “How about you, do you have any idea about what you want?”

“Not really, I never thought about getting one before.” Her fingertips circled her mouth, plucking at the lower lip.

I couldn't stop staring at her. The way her lips plumped up and curved as she spoke, a soft shimmer glistened across the surface. The remnants of lip gloss was enhanced by the lighting above, turning them to dewy petals.

Petals I wanted to run my thumb over, delicate skin I wanted to nibble till she couldn't resist my tongue.

Those lips can wrap my cock anytime.

She was fucking beautiful. Her eyes were bright blue with green and gold sparkles as they caught the glow of florescent lighting. Her hair was frizzled, ponytail bouncing in soft movement as it swayed against her shoulders.

The girl had an air of innocence that radiated off her body. Innocence I wanted to crush between my hands, purity I wanted to destroy with deep hard thrusts.

And it was fucking turning me on.

My cock was pulsing to life, thickening with the silence and softness of her voice.

“I'm guessing you don't have any other tattoos, huh?”

“Nope, you guessed right.” Her lips pulled tight, an awkward smile lifted to her ear.

“Well, let me just say, I'd love to pop your tattoo cherry.” Drawing my thumb across my lip, I pressed in closer to her.

“Excuse me?”
Tilting her head to the side, her hands folded up under her arms, one shoe tucked snugly under each side. “No one said anything about popping any cherries tonight.” Flipping her head towards her friend, her jaw went taut. “Beth, let's go, I'm not letting this ass near my skin.”

A no bullshit kind of girl, even better.
Her friend might have led her here, but at least she's not a complete pushover.

“You'd be doing yourself a favor if you let me near your skin. I promise I'll be gentle since it's your first time.” Chuckling, I drew my hand over my head. “Everyone remembers their first time, and you'd be lucky to say it was me.”

“Are you a pervert or just a walking dick? Because personally... I'd say you're both.” Her lip arched, eyes veering down the bridge of her nose.

Her friend cut in before I could answer. “Lo, I know he doesn't have the greatest manners, but he's supposed to be the best around. We need to do this, I didn't walk in here, only to walk out still bare.” Leaning against the desk, red cupped the trim with her palms. “I love Lillies, can you do a Lily on my lower back?”

I didn't want to see the sexy blonde turn and walk out my door. Blood had surged my cock, prickles had encased my entire body. She did something to me I couldn't explain.

A raw tension fed the air around us, the room thickening with attraction and desire.

So I did the one the thing I knew would keep her here, I agreed. “A tramp stamp...
Classic.
For you, absolutely.”

Red's lip curled, eyes slit tight.
“Tramp stamp?”

“Exactly, it seems it would fit you perfectly.” Running a hand over my jaw, I dragged my fingers down through my beard. “Let me draw something up quick.” Turning to the blonde, I held a slight smile. “And for you, I'll draw you something special. Give me thirty minutes.”

Rolling her eyes, Red crossed her thighs, face softening back into its original color. “What should we do while you draw?”

Grabbing two clipboards off the desk, I handed them to the girls. “Fill these out, and I'll be with you in a bit.”

Taking one last glance at the gorgeous girl with curves, I let my eyes ride over her body before disappearing into the back.

A flash of her bare skin, untainted and pure, rode my spine. She was unspoiled, a blank canvas. There was no one else that had touched her the way I was going to.

This night definitely just got a little better.

While the idea of tattooing the obnoxious girl, with the body of a starved island survivor, was less than ideal; the thought of letting my fingers run over the nervous girl's skin sent a shockwave right to my cock.

I was going to do hers last, savor the feel of her flesh, enjoy the sight of her vulnerable nervousness.

I wanted to feel her squirm, shiver, tremble beneath my hands.

And I was going to put my mark on her.

The image would never disappear, it would never fade.

An inked reminder of my existence.

A permanent display of the man she would never forget.

Willow

I
can't believe I'm doing this.

Never in my life had I ever imagined I would be here, about to stain my skin with an unerasable image.