Page 2 of Protected By the Mountain Man

I stared at her, trying to process her words and form an answer. In my peripheral vision, I was all too aware of that generous chest of hers. She’d worn a plain white T-shirt with three-quarter-length sleeves, and I could clearly make out the outline of her bra beneath the thin fabric. When coupled with those full pouty lips and cute button nose, this woman was straight out of a guy’s wet dream.

“Maybe something right here?” she asked. As if it couldn’t get worse, she ran her index finger along the upper rim of her breast. “I won’t wear anything cut this low at work, but I definitely will on vacation. Would a tattoo hurt there?”

I’d tattooed just about every part of a person’s body that could be tattooed—women and men. It was part of the job. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t occasionally get a boner when I was up close and personal with a hot woman, but usually it faded after the initial rush was over. Then it was like painting a bare canvas. With this woman, though, my hard-on was in place before I even started.

“Some parts of the body are more painful than others,” I said. “Areas where the skin is thinner. Your knee, your ankle, your foot?—”

“Not my breast?”

She was now fully cupping her right breast. I shifted uncomfortably. It was getting tougher not to lower my gaze to her chest. What I was seeing in my periphery was enough to fuel my fantasies for months.

“I can’t say you won’t feel it,” I said. “It just won’t be as bad.”

She twisted her mouth a little and looked off to the side thoughtfully. For a heart-stopping moment, I was sure she’d change her mind and rush out of here, never to be seen again. But instead, she spoke, uttering words that made my day.

“Let’s do it,” she said with a nod. “Do I need to take my shirt off?”

2

DELANEY

My dad’s friend was hot. Smoking hot. He owned this tattoo parlor, which he’d owned when I was a kid and visited my dad here in Rosewood Ridge.

My parents split when I was an infant, and I’d grown up in Kentucky, so that might explain why Dylan didn’t recognize me. The last time he’d seen me, I was only fourteen.

“This might sting a little,” Dylan said.

I was seated in a black chair in the room in the back. Dylan was coming at me with a large cotton swab covered in some sort of liquid that I assumed was alcohol. All I knew was this gorgeous guy was running a cotton ball over the top of my chest, and it was just about the sexiest thing I’d ever experienced.

“Do women normally take their tops off in here for you?” I asked, giving him a teasing smile.

Was I flirting? Yes, I was definitely flirting. I liked this rebellious side of myself. Maybe having a fairy on my chest would permanently change my personality for the better.

“Most of the time, customers come in knowing what type of tattoo they want,” Dylan said, tossing the cotton swab in the trash. He wore gloves and used a cloth to make contact, but I felt every touch as though his bare fingers were sliding across my skin. “If they’re getting a chest tattoo, they wear an open shirt they can unbutton. If it’s on the lower back, they just have to lift up the shirt.”

“So I’m the first topless woman you’ve tattooed?” I asked, not taking my eyes off his face as he worked.

He turned and when he was once again facing me, he held what looked like a really fat pen. That couldn’t hurt too much, could it?

“You’re not topless,” he said. “You’re wearing a bra. I’d say that’s as much coverage as you’d have at the beach.”

“You haven’t seen my swimsuits,” I said with a snort-laugh.

“I assume they’re two-pieces since you were going to show off your lower back tattoo.”

Yeah, that was the flaw in my plan. I had this fantasy of whipping off my cover-up and shocking everyone with a large tattoo on my lower back, but it wouldn’t have shown. All of my swimsuits covered as much of my upper body as possible.

“Well, the next time I get a tattoo, I’ll dress for the occasion,” I said.

“Hey, I’m not going to complain,” he said. “In fact, you could take off the bra altogether if it, you know, makes you comfortable.”

“Okay,” I said.

He froze, staring at me. “Okay?”

I shrugged. As he sat unmoving, I leaned forward, unhooked my bra, and removed it, tossing it to the floor.

Holy cow. I was topless in front of a man for the first time in my life. This was against everything I’d ever been taught.

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