Bad Intentions (Bad Love 2)

“There’s no way you have a dick, but nice try.” His smile is contagious, and I crack, unable to keep a straight face.

“I think he feels sorry for me,” I admit with a shrug. “I just moved here and needed a job pretty badly.”

“But you work next door, too, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s not enough. I have to support my little brother, too.”

“I feel that,” he says, nodding. “Mom’s disabled, so it’s on me to provide for her and my baby sister.”

I decide right now that I like Matty. He’s charismatic and real, and who can dislike a guy who takes care of his family? That alone gives him major brownie points. Plus, he’s beautiful. All the Bad Intentions guys are good-looking, but Matty is probably breaking some serious hearts with his perfect smile, full lips, and black and gray tattoos covering his golden-brown skin.

“You got any more clients today?” Dare shouts.

“Nah,” Matty says, looking at Dare over his shoulder. “I got nothin’ till tomorrow.”

“Then go home,” he grumbles, not even bothering to look up. My eyes widen, but Matty chuckles.

“Think someone’s feeling a little territorial,” he says for only my ears. I shake my head dismissively.

“It’s not like that.”

“You’re trippin’. Trust me. It’s like that.” He smirks. “Otherwise, he wouldn’t give a shit that I’m over here flirting with you.”

“But you’re not flirting.”

“He doesn’t know that.”

I laugh, and that earns another grumble from Dare. Matty leaves, and the rest of the night is mostly silent, save for the music coming through the speakers and the quiet whirring of tattoo guns. Eventually, Dare finishes, washing the excess ink off his client’s back. He stands, instructing his client to stand in front of the full-length mirror before giving him a handheld one to check out his work.

“Just a few more sessions, I think,” Dare muses, one arm across his chest and the other gloved hand under his chin, assessing. “Think you can handle a longer session next time?” This one must have lasted at least four hours. They took a couple of short breaks, but I can’t imagine a longer session.

“I’m game if you are. Looks awesome, man. Thanks again.” Dare covers his client’s tattoo in cellophane and goes over aftercare instructions. I check him out at the front desk, putting him on the books for two weeks from now, and then he’s gone.

I help Dare clean up, both of us wordlessly moving around the shop. Earlier in the day, I felt a little lost, but once I figured out where everything was and what was expected of me, I fell into my role pretty effortlessly. Alec and Cordell are still working in their stations, so I ask if their clients need anything. They decline, so I move toward the front of the shop to hold down the front desk.

“Hey, Logan, come here a minute,” Dare says from somewhere in the back. I bite my lip, looking over my shoulder, hoping he’s not in the drawing room. I don’t see him when I get to the waiting area, which means he is in the drawing room.

Awesome.

The door is cracked, and I push it open to find him sitting at a desk. He flips his sketchbook shut when he sees me.

“What’s up?” I ask, lingering near the doorway. Dare smirks, as if he knows that I’m uncomfortable and exactly why I am.

“I told you I don’t bite.”

“Unless I want you to,” I say, walking toward his desk, repeating what he said to me the night we hooked up. His eyes heat for a minute, and his teeth dig into his bottom lip.

“Right.”

I come to a stop next to him and lean my hip against the side of his desk, crossing my arms, aiming for casual and trying not to remember how his head looked between my thighs while I sat on this same desk.

“So, what do you think?” he asks.

“About…?”

“Your job,” he deadpans. “How was your first day?”

“I like it. A lot, actually.”