Page 212 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

Her casual posture vanishes as her hands fly to her hips and her eyes narrow. “You don’t need to protect me. You may think I’m too young and incapable of making my own decisions, but I assure you I’m grown enough to take care of myself,” she says sharply.

I take a step forward so we’re toe-to-toe, towering over her so she has to tilt her head back to keep her narrowed gaze on me. “I know you can take care of yourself, but I will always protect you when men come in here and think they can talk about you in a way that devalues you.” I lift my hand to slip a loose lock of silky hair behind her ear. Lowering my voice, I add, “Because I respect you and you’re worth more than being treated like a quick fuck.” I press a gentle kiss to her forehead and step around her to grab something to eat in the limited time I have.

By the time I step back out to the front of the studio, Sophie has Brielle prepped for me to start work. The full sleeve she’s drawn for this Henna-inspired design is spectacular and delicate—very Sophie. Ever since I started adding her artwork to our Instagram page, we’ve had an increase in the number of women contacting us for her designs. This was the first opening we had because of a late cancellation, but there are plenty more on our waitlist. Once her designs make it into the public arena, the requests for her artwork are going to explode. Luckily, she’ll be ready to tattoo people within the next few weeks.

I hold out my hand in greeting. “Hey, Brielle. I’m Lincoln. Are you ready?”

She grins at me as her eyes skate down my body. “So ready,” she says huskily, like I’ve just asked her if she’s ready for my dick.

I ignore her tone and check over the transfer. “Sophie, you’ve done an awesome job with this.” I glance up at Brielle. “Are you happy with everything?”

She looks down at her arm, scanning the design. “It’s gorgeous. Exactly what I wanted.”

“Great, let’s get started.” I take a seat and pick up my gun.

Brielle slides her hand across my arm and rests it over the tattoo representing my sister, making me recoil—I don’t like it when clients are so … familiar. When I glance at Sophie, she arches her perfect brows. “Please be gentle with me,” Brielle says with an air of seduction in her voice, and I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes at her obvious attempt at flirting.

Sophie has a naturally sexy rasp to her voice without trying. Brielle is trying hard to be seductive as she looks up at me with a fake pout and yet she doesn’t do a single thing for me. She’s a beautiful girl and I would say she’s around the same age as Sophie, but she’s not my Shortcake.

My Shortcake.

I roll my eyes at myself internally. She’s not my anything. Though, the thought of making her mine has crossed my mind more than I’d like to admit.

“I promise you’re in expert hands.”

She tosses her head back and guffaws, then drops her head and slithers her eyes from the top of my head down my torso, stopping at my crotch. “Oh, I’m sure I am.”

For fuck’s sake.

She still hasn’t removed her hand from me, so I look at it pointedly, hoping she gets the hint. Sophie clears her throat and I flick my eyes up to her face. She presses her lips into a tight line, but the laugh lines around her eyes give her away—she obviously finds Brielle’s flirting hilarious.

“Soph, can you please grab Brielle a bottle of water?”

Sophie climbs to her feet with a knowing grin. “Sure thing, hon. Do you want one too?”

“Thanks, Shortcake,” I wink at her and she blows me a kiss.

Brielle’s eyes widen and she waves her finger between Sophie’s vacated spot and me. “You’re together?”

I nod. “Yeah.” I don’t even have to try to sound like a love-struck fool because even though I’ve done my best to keep the professional lines drawn between us, I like Sophie a hell of a lot more than any employee.

“Oh, I’m so embarrassed. I’ll keep my hands to myself. I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.”

I dip my chin. “I’d appreciate that.” Then drop my voice to a whisper. “She can be a little territorial.”

Starting the gun, the familiar buzz fills the silence, and I get lost in tracing Sophie’s delicate line work. The woman is crazy talented and I’m rapt I convinced Ken to give her a chance. As much as he liked her and loved her work, he was reluctant to bring her on because we’re so far behind with our bookings, but she’ll soon be up to speed and be able to work on small, straightforward pieces.

Wiping away the last of the excess ink, I peer up at Sophie to check on her emotional state. She’s doing well to maintain her professional demeanor; however, I recognize the shimmer in her eyes and the tightness around her jaw as she holds in her emotions. I really hope she’s not going to cry every single time someone gets one of her pieces tattooed because I’m never sure how to deal with female tears.

“Done.” I roll away from the table and stretch out, groaning like an old man. Once again, I completely forgot to take breaks and stretch.

Sophie climbs to her feet and grabs the mirror so Brielle can see her new art. Her hand flies up to her mouth and her wide eyes take in every detail. “Oh my gosh, it’s gorgeous.” She flits her eyes between me and Soph. “You guys make a great team. You’re both so talented.”

I wave my arm out toward Sophie. “All her.”

Pink darkens Sophie’s cheeks. “Not really. If you didn’t work your magic, there wouldn’t be a tattoo.” I can tell she truly believes that, so I let it go … for now.

I say goodbye and head out back, leaving Sophie to explain the aftercare to Brielle. After a few minutes, Sophie steps into the office as I’m rolling my neck and moves behind me. “You should consider setting a timer or something to remind you to stretch.” Her hands land on my shoulders and she rubs her thumbs deep into the base of my skull. She chuckles behind me when I drop my head forward with a groan. Holy shit, that feels good.

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