Inked (Going All the Way 1)

“So why are you closing early? I can’t remember the last time you did that.” She took another bite of her sandwich. For as small as Naggie was, she had an appetite that rivaled his own.

“Got a client coming in, and I didn’t want all the chaos that goes on in the shop to freak her out. This is her first tattoo.”

Naggie stopped eating. She was a small woman with her nose, eyebrow, and ears pierced. She also had full-sleeve tattoos and a wicked fucking attitude that had most guys steering clear. “When have you ever closed shop early because a client was getting their first tattoo?” She finished off her sandwich and wiped her mouth before leaning back against the wall and crossing her arms. “Well?”

Shit, what was he supposed to say? She was right. Cadeon had never closed the shop early, and this was definitely special treatment for Stella. When he didn’t respond right away, Naggie grunted and hopped off the desk.

“If you want to screw around with some chick, don’t do it on my chair.” Naggie grinned widely but was already out of the office before he could answer.

Cadeon didn’t deny that it was a bad idea closing shop early for Stella, but there was a part of him that didn’t want to have her any more freaked out. Just hearing the sound of needles working and of the angry, energized music that played overhead would be enough to have anyone a little nervous on its own.

But of course he was also a selfish bastard, and there was another part to his decision to close the shop early. He wanted her all to himself, wanted this first time to be without distractions, and he wanted to have all his focus on her.

“You’re so fucking screwed, man.” Cadeon groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face. Yeah, he really was, but what a great way to go.3Stella finished up some paperwork at the club and turned off her computer. Even in the back room, she could hear the loud voices and curses coming through the walls from the guys. They were having a party, since a few of the nomads had stopped by. The club was filled with club whores, alcohol, and pot.

Stella may be used to this, but she never stayed around. Her dad may be the president of this biker gang, but that didn’t mean he liked her being around this shit, and she was thankful for that. This was not her scene at all.

She grabbed her purse and turned to go into the bathroom that was attached. The mirror that hung on the back of the bathroom door let her see her appearance from her feet to the top of her head. She had left her blonde hair down, and it brushed the middle of her back. Not one for makeup, she only added a little mascara, which had her blue eyes popping.

Why are you trying so hard when you know nothing will happen?

Stella grabbed the bottom of her shirt and lifted it up. The thickness of her belly was revealed, and she made a face in the mirror. She turned and stared at her side, where she was getting the raven tattooed. It was a fairly simple design, but she was going for more of the black watercolor design than the sharp lines and details of a realistic bird tattoo.

There were no illusions that it wouldn’t hurt like a bitch, but her excitement and the adrenaline she felt inside overrode all other nervousness and emotions moving through her.

She let the shirt fall back into place and headed out of the bathroom and the office. She could have gone out the backdoor and avoided the raunchiness she was sure she was about to witness, but her dad wanted her to talk to him before she left, and Stella could only imagine it would be some kind of warning about the male species.

Keeping her head lowered and making her way through the main part of the clubhouse, she steered clear of the bar and pool table, as that was where most of the action was. The scent of beer, sweat, and cloying perfume clogged her nose. The music was loud as the band belted out a song about sweet emotions and lost innocence. The almost saccharine smell of pot filtered around her. Once she was by her father’s door, she knocked on it and pushed it open after he called out for her to enter.

Her dad and the Vicious Bastards’ VP, Booshie, were looking over a map spread across the meeting room table. “I’m heading out, and you wanted to talk to me before I left.”

Her father nodded, slapped Booshie on the back, and waited until his VP was out and the doors were shut before he started talking. “You going now to get some ink?”