Dirty Sexy Inked (Dirty Sexy 2)

Mason was pretty good at multitasking, but even he was having a hard time concentrating on the tattoo he was shading on a client’s piece while trying to hear what Katrina found so damn funny. She’d laughed more in the past five minutes than she had since they’d gotten back from Vegas a little over a week ago.

It didn’t help his disposition that the person who was responsible for that light, bubbly laughter was a good-looking guy named Blake Cavanaugh, who was a regular client of Caleb’s, another one of the artists in the shop. Blake was a suit who co-owned one of the top ad agencies in Chicago—a clean-cut, polished executive by day, but beneath his designer suits, Blake’s arms, chest, and back were a canvas of inked art. What was even more irritating was that he was a really nice guy.

And he had a thing for Katrina. Every time Blake came in to add to his collection of tattoos, he openly flirted with her and asked her out, even though she always gently turned him down. But that didn’t stop the guy from turning on the charm, or Katrina from enjoying it, every damn time.

Fucking Romeo, Mason thought irritably.

More amused laughter had Mason gritting his teeth as he applied pressure with the needle in his hand to blend in the slightly different tones of black ink along the raven’s wing he was applying on a woman’s upper back. He couldn’t remember the last time Katrina had been that carefree with him, though he knew for damn sure it had been well before their trip to Vegas for the wedding.

They’d promised to leave their hookup in Vegas, and true to their word, neither one of them had so much as mentioned those two nights together—but Mason thought about them. Constantly. Especially about how Katrina had made him actually enjoy sex, as something unique between the two of them. As more than just chasing the physical release and high an orgasm gave him.

Everything they’d done those nights, the playful sexual games, the lengthy foreplay, and making sure that Katrina’s pleasure was equal to his own, were all things he never indulged in with other women. Hell, the thought had never crossed his mind before. His own needs had been his sole focus. With Katrina, her feelings mattered, and now anything less seemed shallow and self-serving.

God, he’d never thought it would be this difficult to return home, revert to best friends, and pretend Vegas had never happened. Forgetting was impossible, since he saw Katrina every day at work. Though she seemed to be dealing with the situation just fine, he knew better. To the outside world, she was the same Katrina she’d always been—always friendly and smiling, but Mason could feel that things were off and, at times, forced and not just with him. And he wasn’t sure what to do about it when all he wanted was for things to return to normal.

And he wanted to stop thinking about getting in Katrina’s panties again. Yeah, especially that, he thought with a frustrated exhale. No matter how many times he told his dick there wouldn’t be a repeat performance, that didn’t stop him from wishing and fantasizing.

Finished with the tattoo he’d been applying, he gave the young woman, Rachel, a mirror and let her check the design in her reflection.

“I absolutely love it,” Rachel said enthusiastically. “It’s exactly what I wanted.”

“I always aim to please,” Mason drawled, and smiled at her. It was a line he used occasionally with new clients, and it had slipped out automatically. But when she glanced back at him with a seductive look and gave him a once-over, he belatedly realized his mistake.

“Umm, I just bet you do,” she murmured flirtatiously, a clear invitation in her gaze.

Before Vegas, this was where he’d work the situation to his advantage and ask her if she wanted to meet up later, but shockingly, the idea just didn’t appeal to him. And that said a lot for his state of mind, considering he hadn’t been with anyone since that last night with Katrina over a week ago. Normally, by now he would have already moved on to another casual hookup. The fact that he hadn’t returned to his regular routine, and even this woman in front of him—who was pretty and curvy and seemingly willing—wasn’t tempting him, was a clear indication that his dick wanted what it couldn’t have.

Unfortunately, Katrina’s hot body was permanently off-limits, and he’d just have to ride out this self-imposed dry spell. At some point—probably when he stopped thinking and obsessing about Katrina and comparing every woman to her—his goddamn cock would get back into the game.

So, for one of the very few times in his adult life, he didn’t pursue a woman’s blatant come-on. Instead, he went over care instructions with her while he applied a layer of antibacterial ointment over the fresh tattoo and covered it with a bandage. As she left his cubicle, Mason glanced over to the front counter, relieved to see that Blake had finally left, and Katrina was going over some paperwork with Jasmine, their full-time receptionist. A few moments later, Katrina walked over to the drafting table, where they all did their client drawings and designs, then sat down and started sketching.

He cleaned up his station and decided that in order for him and Katrina to get past this weirdness and set things right between them, they needed to get back to doing some of those typical things they always used to do together as friends. Something light and fun, where they could relax around one another again. And the perfect idea popped into his mind.

Feeling upbeat and hopeful, he checked to make sure his evening was clear of appointments, then strolled over to Katrina. Her head was down as she worked on her design, but she must have seen him in her peripheral vision, because her shoulders tensed. He wanted to reach out and run his hand down her spine until she softened beneath his touch. Hell, he just wanted to touch her, period.

Instead, he leaned casually against the table beside her, watching as she drew a series of cherry blossom vines that entwined around a woman’s name. “Is that a commissioned piece?” he asked.

She nodded, her wrist loose as she added a bit of shading to the flowers. “A woman came in earlier and liked one of the exclusive designs in my album and requested a custom piece. She wants cherry blossom vines along her rib cage, incorporating her sister’s name. She passed away a few years ago.”

A lot of the tattoos they did commemorated a special occasion or were dedicated to a loved one. “Who’s doing the ink?”

“Derek,” she said, naming the newest artist, who’d come to work at Inked almost six months ago. “He was the only one who had the day and time free that the client wanted.”

Mason continued to quietly watch her draw. She was an incredible artist—always had been, and it was nice to be able to offer their customers a more feminine style of art. Katrina had never had an interest in learning the actual application of a tattoo, but she loved the outlet of creating designs, and he selfishly liked having her in his shop.

She’d been with him since the first day he’d opened the doors to Inked, supporting him and making sure this place ran like a well-oiled machine. She took care of the front end of the shop and paid all the bills. She handled inventory, payroll, and accounting—all the crap that he had no time or interest in doing, not to mention, she kept his personal bills, and his life in general, in order. Just another way that she was so invaluable to him.

After a few minutes of silence, she put down her pencil and glanced up at him, her gaze guarded. “Is there something you need from me, Mason?”

Now there was a loaded question if he’d ever heard one. All sorts of innuendos passed through his mind, and he tried hard not to say something stupid and put a damper on what he planned to ask her. “Actually, I was just wondering if you’d like to hang out tonight?”

A slight frown c

reased her brow. “Hang out?” Her tone was cautious.

“Yeah. Hang out,” he said with an easygoing shrug. “It’s been a while and I thought it would be fun to go to Navy Pier. We can ride the Ferris wheel and play some miniature golf and have dinner at Bubba Gump.”

The smile that appeared was nostalgic, and Mason knew that she was remembering when they were teenagers and how they’d sneak out on summer nights and spend hours at the pier, staying well after everything shut down. Back then, neither one of them had had any money for the food or attractions, but they’d always managed to have a good time. Being together had been all that mattered—and it had been a bonus that it’d also provided a much-needed escape from their crappy home lives for a few hours.