Page 7 of Immortal Bastard (The Order of Vampires)

“Here’s some of my work.” She scrolled slowly, offering her phone to him, but he made no move to take it.

He arched an eyebrow and slipped her business card into his pocket. “You paint tattoos on strangers’ bodies?”

“I use instruments a little tougher than paintbrushes.”

His gaze coasted over the stars wrapped around her hand, the fresh red thread tied at her wrist, the leopard print traveling up the curve of her shoulder, and the little devil sitting on her other one. “You have so many,” he said, merely making an honest observation.

“Did you ever think about getting any?”

His lips parted but he hesitated. His answer faded as he asked, “You said your shop’s nearby?”

“Yup, right down the block.” Was he interested? “I have some openings next week if you—”

“I’ll be gone by then.”

“Oh. Well, I could probably squeeze you in—”

“Tonight.”

His insistence surprised her. “Tonight?”

“Yes. You’ll take me there now.”

“It’s after hours.” Was this really happening? Her recent bout of poverty turned her into an instant capitalist. “I’d have to charge—”

“I’ll pay whatever the fee. But we should go now. I’m running out of time.”

His sense of urgency motivated her more than anything else. She chugged the last of her beer and slid the empty glass onto the bar. “Let’s go.”

Her body tingled as he followed her toward the exit. Each time she looked back, her gaze crawled over his impeccable build.

As they walked, her mind crunched numbers, wondering how much she could get away with charging him on some late-night art. Being an entrepreneur meant she had to drive her business like it was stolen, so her mind was on money first, but once she took care of that, she planned to focus on pleasure.

The thought of touching his bare skin sent her into a tailspin. A kaleidoscope of kinky images ran through her head and hardened her nipples as his warm palm pressed into her lower back. His more than six-foot frame towered over her.

She rarely fucked men impetuously, but this guy broke the laws of the ordinary, so she found herself making extraordinary decisions no matter how reckless. Maybe that was part of the lure. There was something undeniably dangerous about him, and she wanted to find out what.

They walked in silence, the cool night air stripping away any remnants of the stagnant humidity of the club. His steps measured one for every three clicks of her Mary Jane’s. The weight of his hand burned through the back of her dress, his fingers wide enough to span her waist.

Desire swirled with anticipation in her belly. The quiet ones were always the wild ones. “Do you have an idea about what kind of tattoo you want?”

He didn’t answer right away. “Do you work with a lot of male clients?”

He seemed really preoccupied with her male customers. She hoped she didn’t misread the situation. It would be a crushing blow to women everywhere if this chiseled Adonis turned out to be gay. “Most of my customers are men.”

“And how long do you work on them?”

She shrugged. “Depends on what they get. People ask for all kinds of wild shit. The more intricate, the longer it takes.”

“You swear too much.”

She frowned and laughed. “You some kind of minister, too?”

“I told you, I’m just a farmer.”

“Right.”

He glanced at her exposed arms. “How many tattoos do you have?”

“They sort of blend together at this point. I’ve been in the chair at least fifty times.” Turning the corner, Skin Deep came into view. “Here we are.”

Removing the key from her purse, she unlocked the metal caging over the door. It slid up with a slow rolling rumble. Opening the glass door, she held it for him as her fingers flipped the light switch.

Christian scanned the decorated walls as he stepped inside. Nothing in his expression gave away his thoughts. In the bright lights of the store, he looked even more gorgeous than before. Arousal teased as she imagined him sliding inside of her.

He drew in an audible breath and abruptly faced her. She stilled, the strangest notion raising the hairs on her arms. Was she in danger?

Oddly, she still wasn’t nervous. The energy between them crackled as he looked at her through intensely hooded eyes. She needed a moment to gather her thoughts and check her tools.

“I’ll, uh, get my portfolio so you can get some ideas.”

He took a slow step toward her, closing the distance. “We both know I didn’t come here for a tattoo, Delilah.”

She swallowed, her head angling back as she looked up at him. “You didn’t?”

He slowly shook his head. “Don’t play coy. Your body betrays you. Your heart rate’s accelerating and your eyes are dilated.” Then he did something no man had ever done in her presence before. He tipped back his head, shutting his eyes, as he sniffed the air, long and slow. “And you’re aroused.”