SIN FOR YOU: ROCKTOWN INK, BOOK TWO Page 4

  Her face lit up. “Oh my God, really?”

  I nodded. “You can’t miss your date.”

  “You’re the best. I totally owe you.”

  “Hey, one of us deserves to go out and have a good time. Promise you’ll give me all the details tomorrow, though. I have to date vicariously through you.”

  Dot laughed. “He has a friend.”

  I finished loading my tray with beers. “I might take you up on that. I’ve started to forget what a penis looks like.”

  Dot burst out laughing.

  “Where are those beers?” Bull said from behind us, making me jump.

  Heat hit my face immediately. With the amount of blushing I was doing lately, he was going to think I had a skin condition. And there was no way he’d missed what I said. Awesome. If I wasn’t trying to kiss him, I was talking about penises in front of him. “We’re bringing them now.”

  “Dot, take those over. I’ll take this one,” he said, reaching for my tray.

  “I’ve got it.”

  Bull shook his head. “You look after the other tables. Dot can take care of us on her own.”

  Ah, okay. That was weird. I shrugged. “Whatever you say, boss.”

  Bull stilled. “Just…stay over here. I need you to look after the other tables.”

  There was hardly anyone else in the bar. “You already said that.”

  He grumbled something under his breath then strode back to his friends.

  Dot was kept busy delivering beer to her one table, and I felt guilty spending most of my time working on a crossword I had stashed behind the bar while looking after my two tables. Both couples. Both slow drinkers.

  They finally left and I smiled as Dot bustled over to me, looking more than ready to get going. “Are you sure you’re okay to stay until closing?”

  I smiled. “Of course. You have a great night.”

  “I’m planning on it!” She turned to leave then glanced back. “Hey, I don’t know if you’ve been around guys like that before,” she said, motioning with her head to the table of bikers. “But you have to be careful. Don’t show interest in any of them unless you are actually interested, okay? These guys don’t fuck around. They’re kind of scary. I mean, Bull would never let anyone touch us or whatever, but it would cause problems for him if he had to take one down, you know?”

  Take one down?

  Okay, now I was nervous. The Ramblers had been in the bar before now of course, but I hadn’t actually had to serve any of them. My gaze flicked over to the table full of men. “It’s fine,” I said unconvincingly. “I’m not looking to replace my asshole ex with an outlaw biker.”

  She chuckled. “Good call.”

  Dot left, and since she’d just delivered them fresh drinks, I got busy wiping down the tables, all of which were empty. When that was done, I headed over to Bull’s table and started clearing away glasses.

  Bull’s gaze came to me and stayed, boring into me the whole time. I ignored him and the other looks from around the table. Especially from the guy sitting at the far end. His gaze had come to me several times during the night. And thanks to Dot’s warning, I was quietly freaking out.

  Bull will keep you safe.

  There was that old chestnut about not judging a book by its cover. I was trying to remember that as I loaded my tray with empties. I mean, these rough-looking men sitting around the table were Bull’s friends. Okay, yeah, seeing him sitting there looking right at home with these guys kind of blew my mind, but Bull was a good guy. That had to mean they weren’t all bad, right?

  They could be perfectly nice men.

  “Bring us another round, would you, sweetheart?” Dice said.

  I smiled, doing my best to be welcoming and friendly. This was the man who’d had Bull’s back in prison. I was more thankful for that than he would ever know. “Sure thing.”

  I went to walk away and one of the other guys, the one who I’d noticed looking at me earlier, grabbed my hand. “Why don’t you have a drink with me?” he said and patted his lap. “I’ve got a comfy seat for you right here.”

  Bull’s chair scraped on the floor. “Drinks, Quinn,” he said, voice nothing but gravel.

  I rushed to do what he said, taking the out he’d given me, and worked at slowing my racing heart as I loaded my tray with fresh beers and hurried back to deliver them.

  I was beside Bull when I finished handing them out and the guy who’d offered me a “seat” patted his lap again and winked at me. “Come here, honey.”

  That’s when Bull grabbed my hand and tugged me closer, lifted me off my feet, and planted me in his own lap. “She’s got a seat,” he said to the biker across the table.

  Dice laughed.

  I stiffened. This was…I didn’t know what this was. I started to pull away, but Bull held me firm.

  “She yours?” Dice said, grinning.

  Bull squeezed my hip. “Yeah,” he growled.

  Um…what now?

  I tried to spin toward him, but his grip stayed firm on me. I wanted to push out of his lap and run for the door, but I stayed where I was because these guys were scary.

  “’Bout time you settled down, brother. There’s only so many random bitches a man can fuck before it gets old.”

  “That’s ’cause you’re whipped,” one of the younger men at the table said.

  Dice crossed his arms. “It’s ’cause I’m a man not a fucking boy. Nothing like going home to your old lady at the end of the night, knowing she’ll be there waiting for you.”

  Several of the older men at the table nodded.

  Dice’s gaze came to me. “You look like you’d be a nice soft place to land.”

  I forced a smile but I was struggling to breathe. Bull’s hands were still on me, the heat of his body seeping through my clothes. My pulse was racing and my skin was tingling. I needed to get the hell away.

  Suddenly, Bull stood, taking me with him. He took my hand and led me across the room. I felt eyes on us the whole way until Bull tugged me through the door and out the back.

  He backed me against the wall as soon as we were out of sight. “What the fuck did you think you were doing out there?” he gritted out.

  I stared up at him in shock. “What I was doing? What the hell were you doing?” I fired at him.

  “I told you to stay away from our table,” he growled.

  “Dot had a date, so I said I’d stay and cover for her.”

  Bull cursed. “Those guys, they only accept one thing: ownership. You need to stay the fuck away from them, especially Ajax.” His nostrils flared and color slashed his cheeks. “So whenever they’re here, in this bar, you’re mine, understand?”

  I bit my lips. “I don’t think that’s necessary—”

  “I do,” he ground out. “They think differently than civilians. They have their own rules. But they will respect another man’s property.”

  “Property?”

  “I don’t have time to explain this to you. I just told them you’re mine. You need to go along with that, yeah?”

  Not really. It sounded warped to me. I sure as hell didn’t like the idea of belonging to someone, even if it was just while they were here. “And if I don’t?”

  “Things could get messy.”

  In other words, Bull would have to fight someone, more than likely that guy Ajax, with his ready lap and his greasy smile.

  “I thought they were your friends?”

  “They are, but like I said, they play by different rules than us.” Bull leaned in, not threateningly, because he’d never do that to me, but for emphasis, and I got a whiff of his scent. Just that and I had to squeeze my thighs together.

  “You’ll do what I ask?”

  “Are you tattooing Dice tomorrow?” I asked.

  His eyes narrowed. “Yeah.”

  “When you finish with him, will you do me?”

  That came out a little different than I’d intended and didn’t help the throb growing between my thighs.

 
His nostrils flared again. “You blackmailing me, sweets?” he said softly, lifting goose bumps on my skin.

  Was I? I guess I was. But I wanted the tattoo done and I wanted it done by Bull. I shrugged.

  “I’m trying to protect you,” he said.

  “Can’t you protect me and give me the tattoo I want?”

  A muscle in his jaw jumped. “Fine.”

  I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt. “When? Tomorrow?”

  Bull’s eyes dipped and he kind of froze before he pushed away from me abruptly, taking a step back. He dipped his chin.

  “Excellent. What time?”

  He cursed under his breath. “After closing.”

  I had no idea why he was so reluctant to do it. “I’ll be there.”

  He crossed his arms like he was trying to put distance between us.

  Like he was afraid my little excursion in his lap might have confused me or given me the wrong idea. He didn’t need to worry on that score. I knew exactly how he felt about me…or didn’t feel.

  “I’m gonna close up. I want you to serve another round then head home,” he said.

  I didn’t argue. The last place I wanted to be was locked in the bar with a bunch of bikers, or in Bull’s lap pretending to be owned by him.

  No way.

  Because you liked being there, liked the idea of being his, far too damned much.

  I remembered what Dane had asked me. “I’ll leave, if you promise not to drink too much.”

  He froze. “What?”

  The expression on his face could only be described as shocked and kind of mortified.

  “Dane just said to watch out for you, that sometimes you drink a bit too much when they come here. I was just…sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

  “I don’t have a drinking problem, Quinn.”

  How could I have forgotten about his mom? She did have a drinking problem. No wonder he was sensitive about it. Me and my big mouth. “No, I know that—”

  “Just serve the drinks and go home, yeah?”

  I nodded, inwardly wincing.

  Bull turned away from me and strode back into the bar.

  Chapter Four

  Quinn

  I pulled up outside Rocktown Ink and shut off my car.

  Would he be there?

  He’d agreed to do my tattoo, but did that still apply after what I said to him? I’d offended him and brought up a painful memory.

  Only one way to find out.

  Taking the picture I needed out of my glove compartment and holding it carefully in my hand, I opened the door and climbed out.

  The lights were on inside the shop, music playing at lower than the usual ear-splitting level Dane liked it. I looked up to see the lights were on upstairs as well. Dane had recently moved into the apartment above the shop after Cal had moved in with Cassy. Until then, he’d been living with Bull.

  Was Bull lonely living all by himself now?

  You’re stalling.

  Yep, I totally was.

  I hated the idea that I’d hurt him by bringing up such a painful and personal subject.

  Gripping the handle, I tried the door. Locked. Maybe he was giving me a hint. More than a hint. A locked door wasn’t exactly subtle. God, had he really changed his mind?

  No, Bull always kept his word.

  I knocked.

  A moment later, a large shadow moved up, looming behind that glass. The owner of that silhouette was impossible to see through the pictures and photos stuck to the glass door, but there was no way to mistake Bull for anyone else. The sheer size of him was a dead giveaway.

  My belly squirmed and fluttered as the sounds of him unlocking the door reached me.

  Then it was opening and I was staring up at him.

  “Hey,” I said, not sure why I felt so awkward all of a sudden.

  He lifted his chin in greeting and opened the door wider. “My room’s at the back,” he said and shut and locked the door after me.

  The shop was empty. Cal would be home with Cassy, and Dane was obviously upstairs. So it was just the two of us.

  He motioned for me to head to the back, so I did. A door to a small room stood open. Bull again motioned me ahead of him.

  I walked in. “How did Dice’s tattoo go today?”

  Bull was watching me closely. “Yeah, good.”

  “What did he get?”

  “I finished up his back piece…and he wanted his woman’s name as well.”

  I swallowed at the way he said his woman, all rough and gritty.

  His words from the night before echoed through my mind.

  “So whenever they’re here, in this bar, you’re mine, understand?”

  He leaned against the wall and crossed his massive arms. “So what am I doing for you?”

  The inappropriate things that instantly bounced through my mind were numerous and dirty as hell. My face heated, but I ignored it and handed him the photo I was holding. “That’s my mom. The cross hanging around her neck—do you think you could do something like that?”

  His melted-chocolate gaze lifted to mine and softened. “Size?”

  I tried to ignore it, and showed him roughly.

  He stared down at the picture again and nodded slowly. “Yeah. Take a seat while I draw something for you. We’ll go from there.”

  He pulled a stool with wheels out from under a drafting table, and I watched in awe as he took a pad in those huge hands, a pencil in his long, thick fingers, and started sketching something out. I mean, I knew he had to be artistic to be a tattooist. And I knew Bull could draw. All three of the Calero males were gifted in that way. But to see him in action? That was something else.

  It didn’t take him long. And a little while later he lifted his head and handed me the pad. “How’s that?”

  I looked down at it, stunned. It was my mother’s beautiful cross, every detail, the delicate swirls and engravings, the gemstones, all of it.

  “This is…it’s perfect,” I said, fighting back tears. God, why was this affecting me so much? She’d been gone most of my life. I barely remembered her. I looked up at Bull. “She always wore this…I don’t have a lot of memories of her, being so young when she was killed, but I remember this. It had belonged to her mom before her. She was buried wearing it.”

  Bull’s hands dropped to his massive thighs, brown eyes locked on me.

  “I don’t know, I’ve always felt this disconnect, you know? I’ve carried around a lot of baggage where my mom was concerned. Anger at the person who chose to get in their car drunk. Resentment at Mase that he knew her better than me, that I never had her as long, that I didn’t know her like he did.” I shook my head. “I know how selfish that sounds, believe me. But I made peace with it, embraced what she was to me, and this, this cross makes me feel close to her.”

  “You look a lot like her,” Bull said. “Same eyes.” His gaze dropped to my lips. “Same mouth.”

  I smiled even as his words pulled at something low in my belly. “Thanks.”

  “You want to change anything? Size okay?”

  I shook my head. “No, this is perfect.”

  He took the pad from me and got to work making a transfer of it.

  “Where do you want it?” he said when everything was ready.

  I pointed to my right side. Just below my bra.

  “Up on the table. Lie on your side. Lift your shirt.”

  His voice was deep and rumbly, and I did my best to hide my shiver while I did as he asked.

  I shivered again when he cleaned the area and put on the transfer.

  When that was done, he rolled his stool back up and finished prepping.

  “You had ink before?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I have, actually.”

  Bull’s nostrils flared. “When?”

  “A few years back.”

  His gaze raked over me like he was trying to see this mystery ink through my clothes. I rolled to my back and pulled my shirt higher. “Here,” I said, showing him the design I ha
d framing the undersides of my breasts. My breathing grew choppy when his gaze slid over my skin, at the look on his face. “And…here.”

  His eyes shot up to mine, then back down, following my hand as I shoved my thumb under the waistband of my jeans and yanked them down on the right side, showing him the star I got low on the inside of my hipbone.

  “That was the first one.”

  His gaze lingered there for several seconds more, and I flushed hot.

  When his gaze came back to me, his eyes were glittering. “Why didn’t you come to me?”

  “Would you have done it?”

  He stared at me for several long seconds, body motionless, then nodded.

  “Do you like them?” I asked, for some insane reason.

  He nodded again, his chest expanding suddenly.

  My nipples tightened. What the hell was going on here?

  “On your side, Quinn,” he said, that low rumbling voice sliding right through me.

  A deep ache started a slow throb between my thighs.

  Get it together.

  I did as he asked while he pulled on latex gloves.

  “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  The buzz of the tattoo machine filled the room, and then one of those big warm hands was resting on my side and he got started.

  I tried to zone out.

  But as the needle moved over my skin, that needy ache between my thighs got worse. More intense.

  I bit my lips together.

  Maybe getting Bull to do this wasn’t such a great idea after all.

  * * *

  Bull

  I was pretty sure I was close to losing my mind.

  I’d been putting this off, giving Quinn the ink she wanted. I hadn’t been sure why, only that the idea of marking her beautiful skin, with something she’d see whenever she looked in the mirror, something she’d see every day and know that it was me who put it there, made my heart race faster.

  Now I thought I finally knew why.

  I’d liked the idea too damn much.

  I glanced up at her again. Yeah, the longer I worked on Quinn, the quicker her breathing got. And not from pain. She was flushed and, fuck, squeezing her thighs together.