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This woman is a Marilyn Monroe look-alike with a rocker bent. She has curling platinum-blond hair and a body filled out with gorgeous curves. She has a tattoo sleeve up one arm covered in brightly colored flowers and vines. They haven’t seen me gawking at them yet and my jaw drops to the floor as she pulls out her shirt from her chest and shoves it down past her boob. All over her large breast is a white bandage.

She grins up at Braxton and giggles again. “I can’t believe you just did this for me. It’s going to be beautiful.”

My hands curl into fists as I watch her literally shoving her breasts into his face. And…that means he just had his hands all over her chest. Probably her stomach, her ribs. Who knows where he had to touch this woman who’s inked like him and has a few piercings like Stella. She is someone who looks much more like they belong with Braxton than me.

Shit.

“Thanks for coming in,” Braxton says. His hands are in his pockets. His eyes are on hers. In fact, I don’t think he’s looked down at her boob once since she yanked it out for him. “Stella here will—” He looks to Stella, catches me, and pauses, and as he continues speaking, his eyes don’t move from me. “Stella will finish up with your aftercare instructions. Thanks again for coming in.”

“You’re so welcome,” she croons.

And I no longer care about her. I’m already walking to Braxton, intent on doing something I’ve been wanting to do for weeks.

I’m not entirely sure if it’s because of the crap Stella said, the strange burning sensation in me at the sight of this woman that makes me want to set her on fire, or if it’s just because Braxton looks completely freaking edible right now with his black hair, his unshaven scruff lining the front of his throat, the ink on said throat and down his forearms, exposed beneath his navy blue T-shirt.

Hell, it’s probably a combination of all of it, and right now, I’m determined to put Stella and this unknown woman in their place.

“Hi,” I say when I reach Braxton.

“Hey…what are you—”

I don’t give him time to finish the question. I wrap my hands around his biceps, lift to my toes, and press my mouth to his.

Chapter 16

Braxton

I have no idea what’s going on right now, but I’m totally rolling with it.

Cara’s lips pressed against mine, forcefully, pleadingly, I set my hands on her waist and yank her to me, one hand moving to the side of her neck so I can tilt her head. I kiss her back, without any of the restraint I’ve been desperately trying to hold back for the last two weeks, while I’ve waited…and waited…for a sign that shows me she wants to be with me.

This is one helluva sign.

My tongue slides against her lips and she opens. I suck her bottom lip into my mouth, nibbling and tasting her, the fruity taste of her lip gloss I’ve remembered formonthsand the sweet scent of her perfume. Our mouths fuse together, and she slips her tongue against mine, and all sense of where we are, that we’re in my place of business, that Stella’s eagle eyes are probably watching every minute of this interaction. And most likely she’s displeased because she’s been displeased about everything for weeks—it all now completely slips my mind.

My senses are ignited, from the brush of her hair against my arm, the tiny whimper in her throat, the hitch in her breath. I’ve wanted her for months, teased her and thrown all my cards on the table, but this is the first, true indication she’s wantedme.

Hell if I’m missing the opportunity to show her exactly what I want from her.

A bell chimes, breaking the spell, and Cara pulls back. I don’t let her go far, keeping her close to me. Her eyelids lazily flutter open while I catch my breath.

“Wow,” she breathes.

I grin. “Good morning indeed.”

She laughs then, and it’s breathless because she’s still searching for hers and her voice is throaty. She’s beautiful, with cheeks flushed and lips glistening.

“If one of you ain’t gonna go throw up, mind if I do?” Stella asks.

“Yes,” I all but growl. God, she’s been a pain in my ass for three weeks. Like she’s on a perpetual rag and I know she’s not pissed off at her husband, because he’s never a jackass. He’s the only man who can handle her sass with ease but my patience is all but drained. “Don’t be a bitch.”

“Don’t make out with your baby mama in the entryway. You just pissed off Bianca and she was planning on a lot of repeat business until you shoved your tongue down Cara’s throat.”

“Fuck off,” I state, rolling my eyes. Bianca will come back because I’m the best tattoo artist in the Northwest. She wants me, she made that clear, even going so far as to fake an orgasm from thepleasureof the needle sting while I worked on her piece earlier. Sometimes it happens. It’s chemical and physical, but faking one?

I’m not a moron. She even threw my name in on a moan that, for the first time ever, almost made me call in Javier to finish up. But whatever.

She might come back because she wants my dick, but she’s not getting anywhere near it.