Lip Service - GOOGLE Page 3

  “Funny,” I scoff, just as I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I retrieve the phone and it’s a message from Eve, the receptionist at the tattoo shop where I work. Someone showed up needing a tattoo repair, is basically hysterical, and is willing to pay big bucks for me to come back early from lunch for a consultation. In fact, it’s such an exorbitant amount that there’s no way I can turn it down. Chad got a full scholarship for college, but I still try to give him extra spending money, plus I’m saving to open my own tattoo shop one day. “Shit,” I grumble and come to a dead stop on the sidewalk. “I’m going to have to postpone this meeting.”

  “Seriously?” He arches one brow and turns to me. “You made me walk all the way down here.”

  “Relax. We’ve gone two blocks.”

  “What’s so important that you’re just going to run off?”

  “I know you might not get what I’m about to say, but some of us have to work for a living.” I know he works for a living—his job is the whole reason I came to see him—but with his fancy apartment and car, he obviously has enough money he could probably be retired by now. I shove my phone back into my pocket. “I have a client needing a tattoo repair done ASAP.”

  “You’re a tattoo artist?” He nods. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense since you like inflicting pain.”

  “Stop it.” I shoot daggers with my eyes. “When is a good time to meet again?”

  “Anxious, are we?”

  “Anxious for you to convince me why I should trust you with my brother’s future. If you fail to do that, you’re going to leave my brother alone.” It’s not a question. It’s a demand.

  “Hell no.” He leans against the brick building beside us, and crosses his arm. “In the end, it’s your brother’s decision. But at least you can say you earned your disdain for me legitimately.” He pauses briefly, his eyes studying me. “Isn’t there any part of you that’s afraid you might be wrong?”

  There is. Despite his good looks and cocky attitude, I have done my research, and my research tells me Chad should be thanking his lucky stars that Kiss Talent Agency and Hunter Kiss specifically are interested in signing him. But it’s going to take more than hearsay to convince me. “Look, let’s just see what happens, okay?”

  “So long as you don’t hurt me again. But what am I worried about? Once you get to know me better, you’re going to love me.”

  I just shake my head. “My God, you’re arrogant.”

  “I’m also right. Just you wait and see.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Really? You’re that convinced?”

  “Yup.”

  His sheer arrogance has me looking him over for any sign of weakness but all I notice is how scrumptious and clean-cut he looks. No piercings. No tattoos anywhere on his body (which I know because I have seen all of his body, thank you Lord). Almost everyone I know has at least one tattoo (except for Chad, who’s afraid of needles), and since Hunter’s skin is virgin-pure I smile wickedly. “How about we place a little bet then? Just for fun?”

  He has the good sense to look cautious. “What kind of bet?”

  “If after our talk you haven’t won me over to the degree I give my brother the thumbs up to sign with you…” I snicker, thinking about all the possibilities. “You have to let me tattoo something on you. My choice.”

  “What?” He jerks back away from the wall. “What do you think I am, crazy?”

  “You doubting your powers to win me over?” I taunt, taking a step toward him.

  “I’m doubting the sanity of a woman who comes to a man’s apartment, throws a phone at him, then pinches his ear,” he shoots back.

  “Okay fine. I’ll let you approve the design. How about that?”

  “No. Why mar something that’s already perfect, right?”

  I roll my eyes. “Fine. No betting.”

  He shrugs. “Either way, I’m signing your brother. Plus…”

  Now I’m the one looking at him with concern. “What?”

  He shrugs again. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll take your bet after all.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Depending on what you’d be willing to give me when you lose the bet, well, I might be willing to take the chance. I know what I’d ask for.”

  When I say nothing (I’m too busy imagining all the things he’d ask for and all the things I’d happily give him), he coos, “Not going to take the bait? Or do you want me to tell you? Because I’d be happy to, in graphic detail.”

  “I just bet you would,” I mutter. “As I said before, I’m not your type, but you’re not exactly my type either.”

  “What type is that?”

  “I like a man who’s inked. Pierced. Dirtied up a bit.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, Ms. Cross. But we both know you want to see me naked again. And I definitely want to see you naked. Preferably when you’re splayed out underneath me and taking my cock.”

  My jaw drops open. “You—you…”

  He chucks me lightly underneath my chin. “We’ll talk soon,” he says with a wink, then walks away.

  Chapter Four

  Hunter

  Shooting the shit, shooting the breeze. Call it whatever, but it’s my favorite part of the day, when the guys at Kiss Talent and I all assemble together to talk business first, and then life second. There’s no stress, no worries in the world. It’s just conversation between four men, a mix of brothers and cousins, who grew up together and started one of the nation’s top talent agencies.

  Kiss Talent is known for our sports management division, but the company has been steadily branching out and focusing on all aspects of agent representation. Our current roster of clients includes everyone from star athletes to actors to music celebs.

  It’s never been an easy road, but it’s a journey that I’ve been extremely proud of. Through long nights and power struggles, we’ve somehow managed to rise to the top of the game.

  We’re all in a small conference room, seated around a table. Beside me is my cousin, who I only met last year, when his mother confronted my uncle’s wife about their affair and the product of that affair. My brothers and I were born into money, into a life of luxury under the watchful eye of my powerful and wealthy father. Luke’s path couldn’t have been more different. He grew up poor in a small town about thirty minutes south of Austin, and through hard work and dedication worked his way to the top.

  On the opposite side of the table are my two brothers. While I focus my attention on sports management, and Luke focuses on musical talent, Declan works with on-screen talent, and Owen works with writers, directors, photographers and other creatives.

  Declan is the tallest of us, and he likes to hold it over our heads. He’s a former model and even booked a few small television roles before deciding he was better suited behind the cameras. Owen and I have similar builds, fit and lean, but Luke is bulky, to the point where many strangers mistakenly believe he’s a bodyguard or MMA fighter.

  “I’m heading to Nashville first thing in the morning,” Luke says. “I’ll probably be gone for at least a week.”

  “Pretty little young thing catch your attention?” Declan questions with a sly wink. “Does this pretty little thing have a single pretty little friend?”

  “Hardly. Just checking in with Sam Ketting,” Luke chuckles, “but I’m sure he knows a few women.”

  “Damn shame,” I say. “If I weren’t so busy with Chad Cross, I’d love to accompany you on this adventure. God knows I love Nashville women.”

  Luke frowns. “What happened to Cross’s contract being a done deal?”

  “There’s been some complications.”

  “I’ve seen that look before,” Owen snorts. “Your attention is being diverted by a woman. If you want me to sub in, you can take my new client.”

  “Seriously?” I arch one brow. “The model from Utah? What’s the matter? You afraid you’re going to violate our non-fraternizing clause?”

  “Have you seen her? And her two little fri
ends sitting just beneath her perfect face?”

  I drift in thought, thinking about Dani, her gorgeous two friends, and the way they tend to bounce and jiggle when she turns. When she walks. When she breathes heavy. Which I’m proud to say, seemed to happen quite a lot when we were together. The guys continue to talk around me, but I can’t make out exactly what they’re saying. I also don’t care. I’m too lost in the fantasy of touching Dani, caressing her, being inside of her.

  Thank God she’s not a prospective client, so I won’t be violating our rule disallowing fraternization with anyone we represent. Though now that I think about it, we really shouldn’t fraternize with the family of clients either, but I’m sure as hell not bringing that up. Besides, I’m not one to follow rules, even if they’re rules I’ve created for myself.

  Life is much more exciting living on the edge.

  Chad hasn’t called in a few days, and neither has Dani. Things have been conspicuously quiet on that front lately, and I’m starting to get a little worried after having left three or four messages for Chad to call me back.

  I’m not exactly used to being in a position where I have to chase down anyone. Not like in the beginning. It’s all the more alarming because I never for a second believed signing Chad was going to be a hard sell. In my mind, it’s been a done-deal since the day I first began scouting him.

  And then along came Dani Cross.

  Fucking Christ. She’s such a damn pain in my ass on one hand, but an alluring possibility on the other. There’s something about her that makes me not care about having to work harder than usual. The most important thing is signing Chad, not only because he’s going to make me millions, but because I legitimately want to help shoot him into the sports world stratosphere.

  But I also want to banter more with Dani.

  I want to do a lot of things with her.

  But most of all, I want to find out how she looks naked and underneath me as I fuck her, her breast jiggling, her mouth open and screaming my name as I make her come harder than she ever has before.

  Chapter Five

  Hunter

  Before leaving the office, I call Dani again, planning to give her shit for ignoring my calls and not returning my messages, but she’s apparently intent on denying me that pleasure. As a last resort, I decide to track her down and confront her face to face. It’s not hard. All I have to do is type her name into a search engine, and I have the name of the shop where she works, Skyn Ink, located on the opposite end of downtown.

  When I climb out of my car, however, I begin to feel nervous. Ridiculous. I’m not a nervous person. I’m a strong ass, confident alpha male. I pull myself together on the outside, but inside my head is racing as I make my way down the street and to her shop.

  From outside, the tattoo shop seems nondescript. It shares the same brick exterior as so many buildings in this city, but above the door is pink neon signage over a white background.

  I’ve never been in a tattoo shop before. I’ve been afraid of needles since I was a young kid, but I’m hoping I managed to hide that little fact from Dani when she was giving me shit about that bet.

  I exhale and pull myself together before pulling the black glass door open.

  A bell rings over my head as I step into the dark space that looks a bit like an art gallery. It’s more upscale than I ever would have imagined, with frames lining the far left wall and recessed lighting offering glimpses of light through patterned darkness.

  I step to the front desk and lean over, looking for a bell to alert someone that I’m here. Just as I spot a bell situated on the opposite side of the counter, a woman peels back a black curtain behind the counter and emerges.

  She’s stunning, a real head-turner with deep emerald green eyes and curled dark brown hair. She’s tan, with the faintest hint of a tattoo peaking out from underneath the rolled sleeves of her white blouse.

  “Can I help you?” she asks with a warm smile, placing both palms on the counter top.

  “I’m looking for Dani.”

  “Right.” She nods, her eyes taking measure of me. “You don’t look like Dani’s type. Is this business or pleasure?”

  I’m startled by her boldness. “Excuse me?”

  She just smiles and shakes her head. “Never mind. Look, we technically closed fifteen minutes ago, but silly me forgot to flip the locks.” She steps from around the counter and to the door, holding it open for me. “So, if you want to try again tomorrow—”

  “This is terrible customer service,” I say with a smile, but quickly realize she’s not joking. “Is she here or not?”

  She sighs and pulls the door shut before crossing her arms. “You’re obviously not here for an appointment and by the looks of it, you’re not going to be setting up one anytime soon.”

  “You’re still not answering my question.”

  She rolls her eyes then pushes past me, brushing her shoulder against my bicep. “I’ll be back.”

  After she disappears behind the black curtains, presumably to grab Dani, I examine some of the art framed against the brick backdrop. Most of the tattoos represented are watercolors. The designs run the gamut from simple and serene to complicated and fantastical. There’s one particular tattoo that sparks my interest in it’s simple beauty: a sky of watercolor clouds with a blue sun’s rays piercing through the pink and purple clouds.

  “Do I need to file a restraining order?” A familiar voice says from behind me, and a satisfied grin hitches across my lips as I turn. Dani leans against the counter with her elbow propped against the countertop. She’s wearing a sheer black top exposing a black bra underneath and skin tight jeans that hug her sexy ass curves.

  “Why are you ignoring my calls?”

  She shrugs and looks over my shoulder. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

  The girl from earlier emerges from behind the dark curtains again, this time with her purse over her shoulder. She marches between Dani and I, and heads straight for the door. She cranes her head over her shoulder as she pushes through the glass doors. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Bye, Eve.” Dani waves goodbye with a genuine smile before turning back to me with a look of annoyance painted on her lips. “Look, I just finished a long day and I’d like to head home.”

  “So you can continue ignoring my calls?”

  “Doesn’t feel so great, does it?”

  “Ah. Payback?”

  She sighs. “No. I’ve just been busy.”

  She does look tired. “Why don’t you finish packing up? I’ll walk you out.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Humor me.”

  She rolls her eyes and turns, disappearing behind those black curtains. I stand motionless for a second before deciding to follow her to whatever’s behind door number three.

  Once on the other side of the curtain, I pause just to get a good look at the place. There are eight work stations, each outfitted with a white curtain hung like a shower curtain around a claw foot bathtub. Black leather chairs, assorted tools of the trade, and Craftsman toolboxes are at each station.

  At the very back of the open space is another set of black curtains, which a huge, muscular, bearded and bald man pushes aside as he enters. Every inch of visible skin from his neck down is covered in tattoos and he has a thick nose piercing.

  As he approaches Dani and I, he snarls.

  “Relax,” Dani tells him. “He’s a friend.”

  “Right.” He growls and stares me down. “If you need anything, ring me.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Rob.”

  He grunts, continuing to stare at me until he disappears out into the front room.

  “Scary guy, huh?” Dani taunts.

  “No.” I shake my head, lying through my teeth. “I wouldn’t say that at all.”

  She steps up to a workstation. I follow suit and peer at the wicked looking tools of her trade. I feel the color drain out of my face and panic runs through me. I blin
k as I start to feel light headed, and—

  “Hunter!”

  I hear Dani call my name just about the time I feel someone grab my arm. I blink a few more times until Dani’s face comes into focus again.

  “Holy shit,” she says, eyes wide. “You’re afraid of needles.”

  “What?” I try snorting and laughing with disdain, but it’s clear from her expression she’s not buying it. I wave my hand. “I’m not fond of needles, no.”

  Part of me half expects her to say something nasty, but her expression softens and then she shrugs and turns away. I frown, not liking the feeling that she’s dismissing my fear. Dismissing me.

  “Maybe it’s time I face my fear,” I blurt out. Immediately, I mentally cringe, but keep my expression blank so as not to give myself away.

  “No need to do it anytime soon.”

  “You don’t think I can actually do it?” I don’t want to admit that seeing Mr. Macho just now has me feeling like I have something to prove. To her. To myself.

  “What, you think getting a tattoo is gonna sway me to your cause with Chad?”

  “Not at all. I’m just surprised, I guess, that I liked some of the work displayed out there so much. Maybe I’d like having a tattoo. Or hell, maybe I’d like a piercing. They say it heightens sexual pleasure, right?”

  “I’m not piercing your dick.”

  This time I can’t help it and visibly wince. “As if I’d let you anywhere near my dick with a needle,” I shoot back. “But maybe someplace else.”

  She reaches forward and lightly pinches the lobe of my right ear, the one she’d pinched much harder after I’d pretended I was going to kiss her. “How do you feel about an ear piercing?”

  “I’d rather keep a clean image for my clients.”

  “Fine.” She takes a step back and eyes me up and down. A challenge lights her eyes, and it sparks off tremors of excitement in my belly. “Take off your shirt.”

  “What?”

  “Take off your shirt.”

  Slowly, I undo the buttons of my light blue shirt until I can drop it down my shoulders, and then tug my white tee over my head. Her eyes get lost somewhere between my firm chest and my ripped stomach. I can’t help but grin as I notice the way she looks at me, the same way I’ve been looking at her since I first saw her again.