Chapter One

Enzo

The alarm mocked him as he woke to limbs tangled with his own. The blonde from the night before snuggled into his side. He ran a hand through his hair and rested his head on the pillow. Overnights weren’t his norm, but waking up alone on today of all days wasn’t an option. He had a love-hate connection with the day of his birth, and thirty-four was too old to deal with shit with liquor. So ... he fucked in excess and kept his liquor consumption to a minimum instead. Normally, he would be ready to go for round three, but all he wanted was silence ... some peace. He moved away from the blonde and rolled from the bed, ready to wash away the night before.

“Time to go home, sweetheart,” he said.

She stretched her arms above her head, letting her blanket fall to her lap. Her perky breasts were perfection and obviously fake.

Still, Enzo took a moment to appreciate her investments.

“You sure I can’t tempt you into breakfast?” she purred.

“Positive, got somewhere to be.”

She pouted her plump red lips.

What kind of makeup shit lasts overnight? The thought of the chemicals involved made him shudder. “As amazing as you were last night, I’ll have to pass.”

She huffed and tossed the blankets aside, swinging her shapely legs over the side of the bed as she stood. She was petite, tanned, toned, and plastic. It made her easy to look at, have a good time with, and say good-bye to.

Not that he ever felt bad. She knew what she was getting into, they all did. He made it clear he didn’t do seconds and wasn’t looking for more than a mutual exchange of pleasure. Still, some of them seemed to think they would win some magical lottery, and things would change in the morning. He’d seen Tracee around the tattoo shop a million times. She was an ink chaser.

She wanted a tattoo artist for an old man in the worst way. He made it clear she was barking up the wrong tree, but she kept coming around. He wasn’t looking to have a significant other, and her desperation to land someone who would take care of her made his skin crawl. This would kill two birds with one stone.

“You’re a real ass, Enzo, you know that?” Tracee asked as she poured her body back into her skin-tight black dress.

“You already knew that, though, Trace. We knew this wasn’t more than a night of fun.”

She cocked her hip and narrowed her eyes. “You sure about that, sweetheart? We had a lot of fun. Imagine that in your bed every night.”

“Not looking for that, Trace,” he said with a shrug.

“Would you say the same thing if I had my head stuck in a book and my body covered from head to toe?” Tracee scoffed.

“What the fuck did you say?” Enzo asked, stepping forward.

The color drained from her face. She snatched up her sky-high heels and fled. “Nothing, see you around,” she muttered, skittering out the door before he could respond.

People wondered about him and his best friend, Aibhlinn. They didn’t think a man and a woman could be friends without jumping in the bed together. His theory was the exact opposite. Sex ruined things. It broke up lifelong relationships, made people paranoid, and upset the natural order you first had before romance entered the picture. No, his spitfire Irish lass with the piercing blue-green eyes and flowing chestnut mane would remain off limits forever.

The very thought of her made him smile. Even on his darkest day, she never failed to bring him a little happiness. He walked to the front door of his house and locked the door behind Tracee. A quick glance at the clock told him he had about thirty minutes to get his ass into gear. He walked back over the maple hardwood floor and into the bathroom. The white on white tiles and glass shower enclosure made the room appear more open and easy to get into and out of, which made the space tolerable.

Turning on the hot water, he sank onto the bench at the far end of the massive stall and let the steam gathering clear his pores and his muddled head. Lack of sleep and beer had him feeling sluggish. After a few minutes, he rose to his feet, stepped under the spray, quickly soaped down, and rinsed off.

He was pulling on his plaid button up when the doorbell rang. A few moments later,

the lock turned.

“You decent, birthday boy?” Aibhlinn called with that slight lilt he’d grown to love.

“Yeah, I’m coming out now,” Enzo called back. He appeared in the doorway and smiled.

Dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans that hugged her thick thighs, and large ass, she was mouthwatering.

Off limits didn’t mean he couldn’t admire her assets. An off the shoulder Pink Floyd sweater displayed tantalizing porcelain flesh. She had her hair pulled up into a messy bun that showed off her long, slender neck.

“You ready to go?” she asked.

“What? No breakfast?” he shot back.

She rolled her eyes “Smart ass. We’ll be back for that later. If you don’t hurry, we’ll miss the sunrise.”

Tags: Shyla Colt Jinx Tattoos Romance
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