“Yeah?” His needle dug in, reminding me where we were. Everything in my focus had gone blurry except for him. “I’m the same,” he said. “It’s why I wasn’t about to let you bail on getting in my chair.”
Good God, he needed to hurry up. Fucking him in this tattoo shop, a curtain the only thing keeping us out of sight, sounded more appealing each passing second. My gaze followed the needle as it traveled over my uneven skin, and I silently urged him to finish.
“So, what’s the favor?” I asked.
“I’m hosting a show at my gallery next Tuesday for a new artist. Come with me.”
I turned my head away and sighed. “Like a date?” It made this hard to be a one-time thing if I went out with him after the sex.
“Could be.” His voice was strange, as if the thought had only just occurred to him. “After the showing, I want your help photographing the pieces.”
“My help,” I said, dubious. “How would I do that?”
“You’d display it. Model beside it.”
My focus snapped back to him. “I’d do what?”
“You’re a beautiful woman, and his artwork is predominantly green. Your red hair is the perfect complement to it—”
I was currently undercover. Too risky. “No thanks.”
“—and I’d like to shoot nudes.”
Was he fucking with me? I searched his expression, but he looked entirely serious.
“It’d be tasteful and sexy, I promise,” Silas continued. “I won’t show your face, and I can Photoshop out the tat. No one will know it’s you, except for us.”
I laughed incredulously. “Seriously, no.”
He wiped the towel once more, swiping the drops of blood from my skin, and shut off the needle. “You can trust me, Regan.” His gaze swept over me appreciatively. “I bet you look fucking amazing naked, and I can’t imagine a woman who worked for Joseph would be shy. You don’t seem shy at all.”
Fuck no, I wasn’t shy, and the strange thing was I sort of believed him when he said I could trust him. But too much was at stake. Several high profile cases could go bust if my cover was blown. “Let’s go back to me fucking you for the tattoo.”
The gleam in his eyes was smug. “Pretty sure we already decided what that transaction’s going to be about.”
“Chose a different favor then. I can pick you up from the airport sometime.”
His busy hands went to work cleaning the irritated skin, applying a salve to the dark ink. He must have noticed me staring at the design.
“Happy with it?”
“It’s beautiful.”
The corner of his mouth lifted into a half-smile. “And there was no little bitch crying.”
Clear plastic bandage was set on the skin. It felt like I had a sunburn, which, being a redhead, I was plenty familiar with.
“I’ll change your mind,” he said, “about the favor.” Off came his black gloves, tossed in the garbage.
“No, you won’t—”
His mouth was on mine, cutting me off.
Chapter
SIX
Hot. Greedy. Dominating.