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13

IRIS

Archer asked me if I was okay with him making a quick stop at his tattoo shop before dropping me off at work, and I agreed.

I have to say, I’m really intrigued to see what it looks like.

The reason he asked was that their little friend, Melanie, is a receptionist for them, and he suspected she might have gone back to the shop after stopping by their place tonight.

When he told me that, an internal grin formed inside me, so I glanced at him with a guilty expression and asked him to return inside the house and prepare a container of lasagne as a way to apologise for my behaviour.

I mean, she had it coming. Maybe some human flesh will temper her.

“We’re here. You can stay inside the car. I promise I won’t be long,” Angel says as he opens his door.

“And miss the decor?” I shake my head. “I want to come.” Lifting the lasagne, I smile. “And I have to apologise.”

“You don’t need to… Melanie is…” He sighs.

A bitch? A greedy bitch? Yeah, I gathered.

“She’s something.”

“Nonsense.” I shove him with a hand gesture and open the side of my door. “Let’s go.”

The first thing that catches my attention when we enter is the ambiance. The walls are painted a dark shade of grey, almost black, adorned with framed drawings that are most likely tattoo sketches. There are skulls resting on the shelves, and a cosy sofa is conveniently placed near the reception area.

There’s a subtle clinical scent that is strangely comforting, not overpowering like the smell of bleach.

The space is beautifully illuminated by a low chandelier that resembles glistening diamonds in the sunlight. It’s simply stunning.

Compared to other tattoo shops I’ve visited, the music at this one is just right—not too loud, with more of a soothing rock vibe than heavy metal.

“Woah.”

“Cool, right?” He glances at me with a proud smile, and to be honest, he should be.

“What is she doing here?” a female voice shouts at us, piercing through the air.

I shift my gaze towards the reception area and spot Melanie engaged in a conversation with a man who bears a striking resemblance to Angel. Melanie’s artificial blonde hair reflects under the harsh fluorescent lights, and her messy extensions immediately catch my eye.

They look almost green.

Not flattering at all, if you ask me. She would be better off shaving the whole thing.

Oh.

No, bad, bad, bad thought, Riss.

I actually think it’s a brilliant idea! Note to myself for the next time.

“Melanie,” sighs Angel, but I put a hand over his shoulder.

“Let me.” I walk towards her, feeling the weight of the warm lasagne in my hands, and carefully place it over the counter. “I wanted to apologise for my earlier behaviour. Consider this my peace offering.”

She looks at me with narrowed eyes and a clear expression of mistrust but chooses to remain silent, fuelling her bitterness.

“Don’t interfere with the tattoo artists or the customers,” she warns, spitting out her words.

The guy next to her can’t help but let out a chuckle as he observes the scene.

“Last time I checked, I was the owner of this place.” Angel raises his eyebrow, which causes her cheeks to turn red. “Rowan, I didn’t know you were here.”

Rowan smiles warmly, extending his hand towards me. “I’m Rowan,” he says, with a hint of amusement. “Apparently, my brother forgot his good manners.”

So that’s where the resemblance comes from.

“Iris.”

“Sorry.” Angel pinches the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t expect you to be here, that’s all.”

“You told me I could come if…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, but I can sense the palpable tension between them.

“Of course,” Angel takes him in his arms and gives a comforting pat on the back, but his brother winces in discomfort, causing Angel to freeze.

“I’m fine,” Rowan whispers.

Sensing the tension between them, I can’t resist asking, “So, who’s the older sibling? I mean, he’s almost more handsome than you, Angel.”

“As if the three of them weren’t enough for you, slut,” I hear Melanie mumble under her breath.

The guys give her a dirty glare, but I decide to ignore her and keep my eyes locked on the guys.

Rowan chuckles as he says, “I like her. I’m 22, the middle child, and in my final year at university. Isaac, the baby of the family, is 21. As for this one,” he gestures towards his brother. “He’s 30, and you can see the weight of age etched on his face through the subtle furrow that appears between his brows.”

“Fuck off, Row.”

“I’m joking,” he winks at his brother. “I’ll ink some skin. Isa should come during his break.”

“Oh, so you’re a tattoo artist as well?” That’s interesting.

“Learned from the best. But hopefully, I’ll make it permanent once I’m done with university.”

Why bother attending university then?

And that’s exactly what I ask him.

“Let’s just say Arch and us had an agreement for that. We would attend uni and then have the option to either work with him full time or receive his help in opening our own tattoo shop.”

“Alright, let’s stop chatting and continue on before Iris is late for work.” Angel pats his brother’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Rowan nods at him before winking at me. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Iris.”

I nod and follow Angel, the sound of Melanie’s muffled murmurs lingering in the air.

I really don’t understand what they see in her.

Just the sound of her breathing is enough to grate on my nerves.

Oh, maybe I could kill her?

As if your list of victims wasn’t long enough.

I could still fit her in between missions.

The booths line the pathway, and the rhythmic hum of tattoo guns reverberates through the air. In the midst of it all, I spot Rowan preparing to ink a design for a man who patiently awaits his turn.

“So, this is where you work?” I ask as we enter his booth.

It’s small but cosy. The walls are painted in a deep shade of purple that appears freshly done and decorated with intricate hand-drawn sketches that are probably his, creating an atmosphere that is both distinctive and artistic. In the corner, a vintage radio adds a touch of grunge. Taking centre stage is a tattoo chair accompanied by a stool.

“In part. The security companies consume a lot of my time and Eli’s, while Kai is primarily focused on his work at the tattoo shop. I come here mostly at night time.”

I raise my brow at him. Tattoo parlours typically close their doors after sunset.

He notices the perplexed look on my face and can’t help but chuckle. “Yes, we’re open until 3 a.m., and even when we’re not here, we have dedicated staff to ensure coverage.”

“Like, Melanie ?” I exaggerate her name and roll my eyes.

“I was referring more to individuals who possess the skill of tattooing.” He winks at me.

“You said you guys had several tattoo parlours?” I lean closer and examine the tattoos on the wall.

One of them catches my eye, a Medusa-like figure with an intricately carved skull and a swirling mass of snakes surrounding it.

That is simply stunning.

My eyes are drawn to another piece of art, a simple snake, but there’s an inexplicable magnetism that attracts me.

The snake conveys a sense of loneliness and sadness, yet its strength is palpable.

I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s just… woah.

“We do. We have several in London but across the U.K. as well. How many tattoos do you have?” he asks, noticing my fingers gently tracing the design.

As I settle into the tattoo chair, I observe him meticulously arranging the assortment of inks and paper that are strewn across the table.

“I honestly stopped counting them. Several on my arms, the big piece on my thigh, one on my ribs…” I try to think, but I honestly don’t remember.

He leans closer and sits on the stool. “No piercings?”

I shake my head. “Are you going to pierce me, Angel?”

“Hmm. I have some idea where I could pierce you, but that would mean no sex for a few weeks.”

I lean forward, my eyes wide, and sit down, my voice filled with surprise. “Excuse me? No sex?”

He chuckles softly, shifting his chair and propping his elbow on the chair as he gazes at me.

“The question is, Vixen, are you bold enough to take the risk?”

“Wait a minute. Just to clarify, we’re discussing a piercing for my clit and not my tits, right?”

I mean, I’m all for it, and I heard a lot of people saying that it increases pleasure, but the thought of abstaining from sex for several weeks is daunting.

“C’mon, Vixen,” he taunts.

“Don’t you want to ink me instead? Because no sex?” I grimace.

Who goes without sex? Surely not me.

I swear, sometimes I wonder if I am a nymphomaniac.

Oh, well.

“I promise you, it’ll be worth it.”

Bloody hell. Am I really considering this?

Of course you are because you have an issue.

As I nudge him with my foot, he smoothly slides across the floor with the stool, and I stand up from the tattoo chair. With deliberate movements, I strip off my shorts, then my boots, and finally my tights.

He glances at me with a smirk. “I think you forgot something.”

“You mean this?” I tug on my g-string.

I place my two thumbs on the lace, feeling its soft texture beneath my fingertips, and go to remove it, but he stops me abruptly. He quickly stands up and rushes to close the door.

I raise my brow in confusion. “I thought you were all for a little crowd-pleasing?”

“I am,” he says as he walks closer, causing me to tilt my head up to meet his gaze. “But I don’t want my brother to catch a glimpse of your glistening pussy.”

I feel a rush of anticipation as his hand glides from my chin down to my nipples, then traces a path along my stomach as he lowers himself to his knees and slowly removes the lace, pulling down my string.

I quickly lift my feet to remove my underwear, but a gasp escapes me as his mouth makes contact with the sensitive area at the top of my pussy.

“I thought you said no sex.” I moan as his tongue drags along.

“But you’re not pierced yet, are you?”

As he pushes me against the tattoo chair, I can feel the rough texture against my back as his tongue glides over my skin. He gently lifts my leg, allowing it to rest on his shoulder.

“Angel,” I moan, feeling his tongue gently caressing my sensitive spot.

“Actually, I don’t think I can survive a few weeks without your warmth.”

“So, what?” My breath catches in my throat as he gives it a few strokes.

“I saw you eyeing two of my designs,” he says between each lick. “That might be the perfect spot between your breasts. When do you need to be at work?”

“T-two hours.” Fuck, that feels so good.

“I can make it work.”

I feel his smile against my skin as he continues to lick without pause, his eyes locked with mine, as I struggle to resist the overwhelming pleasure and the urge to tilt my head back.

He eagerly licks and sucks, his sole focus on bringing me to climax as quickly as possible.

“Angel,” I moan, my fingers tightly gripping his hair. But instead of responding, his hand trails down to my ass, lifting me effortlessly and placing me on the chair.

“You better be quiet and come fast for me, Vixen. You don’t want to be late for work, do you?”

Work will be fine if I’m a few minutes late.

“Ang—”

His mouth expertly finds my clit, nibbling on it before giving it a soothing lick.

As he continues, my cry becomes more intense, my body trembling as he spreads my legs and slides two fingers inside.

“Eyes on me, Vixen,” he murmurs against my sensitive skin. “I want you to look at me fucking this pussy with my tongue and fingers before my needles graze your skin.”

His fingers thrust deeper and faster while his tongue continues to dance around my clit.

My hands tightly clutch his long hair, desperately urging him to come closer while my body uncontrollably trembles, surprised by the sudden wave of my orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I scream.

“That’s it. Be a good girl, and come for me.”

His hand forcefully covers my mouth, muffling my cries, while his lips persistently devour me as if I were his last meal.

With a last lick, he lifts his head, a smirk playing on his lips as my body struggles to regain its composure.

He rises from between my legs and leans in closer, pressing his lips against mine, making me taste my own release.

“You did so good for me.”

He detaches himself from me, and I can’t help but notice the bulge in his jeans. I try to reach for it, but he dismisses me with a shake of his head.

“I crave the sensation of your lips on my cock, but you can’t imagine how badly I itch to leave my mark on your skin.”

He walks off to the sink, the sound of running water filling the room, and washes his hands meticulously before returning with a handful of wipes.

“That’s very… professional,” I raise my brow.

“I am.” With a gentle touch, he spreads my legs, causing me to moan softly as the wipe soothes my sensitive skin.

Flashing me a wink, he returns to the sink to wash his hands again. After drying them, he puts on a pair of gloves and begins preparing the inks.

I watch, conscious that he’s done that a hundred times before.

“Ready?”

“How do you know which one I prefer?”

Again this smirk. “You’ll have to trust me.”

With a tender touch, he lifts my top and places a soft kiss between my breasts, making sure to disinfect the area afterwards.

I’m completely bare.

“You’re not afraid that your brother will come in and see me completely naked?” I raise my brow and struggle to stifle a laugh as I watch his face crumble.

“Shit.”

Just as he stands up, the door swings open, revealing a displeased Melanie, followed closely by Rowan.

Well, I might have manifested it.

She looks at us in shock while a grin forms on my face.

“OUT!“ Angel shouts, slamming the door in their faces before they can utter a word.

The sound of Rowan’s laughter fills the air while Melanie’s curses float around like a bitter melody.

We should kill her, Riss. She’s annoying.

Yeah, we probably should.

“For fuck’s sake!”

“It’s okay,” I chuckle as he changes his gloves. “This is not the first time people have seen me naked.”

“But he’s my fucking brother.”

“Stop being grumpy and start to ink. I’m going to be late,” I remind him.

“Shit. Let’s do this.”

Settling into his chair, he powers on his tattoo gun, the hum of its vibrations filling the room.

“That might be painful. This place is not the?—”

“Seriously, Angel? This is not my first rodeo.”

“Okay then.”

I observe him intently as he concentrates on his task, and I clench my jaw tightly when the needles make contact with my skin.

The pain lasts for a few fleeting seconds, but then my body gradually adjusts, and I feel myself relax.

The soft melodies of the rock music in the background lull me into a state of relaxation until I suddenly feel someone shaking my shoulder.

“What is it?”

“I can’t believe you fell asleep,” he chuckles. “I’m done.”

“You’re done? Wait, did you say I dozed off?”

“That you did. Women are something else. Do you want to see?”

He brings a mirror, positioning it between my hand, and I gasp in awe as the tattoo comes into view.

Holy moly!

He inked a snake wrapped around a rose, its thorns gently grazing my chest. The snake’s head rests towards my neck, its ruby eyes shining like fiery diamonds. The tattoo captures both strength and sadness, and its size and elegance make it a truly beautiful work of art.

I simply have no words.

“How did you know?”

He shrugs. “Let’s just say I might have drawn it after I saw you dancing on that pole at Sin.”

“I… Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

Control yourself, Riss. Now’s not the time to develop feelings for someone you have to eliminate.

“No, thank you. My ink looks good on you.” As he wraps the tattoo, he shoots me a wink and then hands me my clothes. “We should go. You’re going to be late.”

Shit, I completely forgot about work and my mission.

I dress up quickly, making sure to avoid brushing against the tattoo, as he gives me a refresher on how to properly clean and take care of it.

We see Rowan, who winks at me when we leave, and a not-so-shocking “slut” from Melanie.

“Oh, I forgot something,” I tell Angel. “I’ll join you in the car.”

He nods and leaves while I make my way back towards the reception.

“Melanie, Melanie, Melanie.” I shake my head. “I’ll say it once. Needy is overrated. Men don’t appreciate others clinging to them like a clam to its shell. They are mine now. If you’re content with your current life, I recommend staying in your lane.”

“Or what, bitch?”

A devious laugh escapes me.

“Well, besides the fact that I have all three of them now, you might want to start looking for a new job. Or worse, dead…” I let the weight of my threat settle, leaving a palpable sense of unease in the room.

“You really think I’m afraid of someone as insignificant as you?” she scoffs, her voice filled with confidence.

“Suit yourself, boo. But don’t come crying when that eventually becomes a reality.” I turn to leave but pause, tilting my head to steal a quick glance at her. “Oh, and do something with your hair, hun. The 80s porn star look is not a thing.”

As I leave the parlour, her curses echo in my ears, and I quickly join Angel in his car. He raises an eyebrow, silently questioning me.

“What? She had it coming.”

“You’re trouble,” he chuckles before starting driving.

It’s going to be a long night.