Page 59 of Falcon

Eagle chuckled and Scar walked up front with a client, so I checked her out. “Can’t wait to see that finished,” I said as I handed her change.

The curvy brunette winked. “Two more sittings, right Scar?”

“I’d like a new one I think.” Right as I said that, the door swung open and Falcon was carrying a couple of bags.

“New what?” he asked.

“A new tat. Or maybe cover the one I have.”

He pulled some nuggets and fries from the bag and put them in front of me. “No. I won’t cover it. And neither will they.”

They all got quiet and the brunette smiled nervously at me and rushed out. Eagle, Scar, and Blaze looked through the bags and pulled their lunches out. Falcon pulled up one of the customer chairs and sat down next to me at the desk.

“It’s my ass. Why can’t I cover it?”

He swallowed his giant bite of burger before answering. “It’s one of the first things I remember about meeting you. It stays. Plus, it’s my ass.”

The guys were sitting around the reception area eating and watching. They were worse than the bunnies.

I wanted to be annoyed but somehow what he said made me melt. “My little flower is nostalgic to you?”

He wiped his face with a napkin and leaned over to give me a chaste kiss, then went on eating his burger.

“Okay. I won’t cover the daisy. But how can you expect me to work here and not want some ink? That’s the only one I have.”

Scar took a drink then said, “You could get a nice little wrist tat. That’s popular. I’ve done five just this week. I could fix you up.”

Falcon shot his fiery hazel eyes in Scar’s direction.

“Or not,” Scar said, then took the final bite of his burger.

“I don’t know if I should be happy or worried that you want to be the one to inflict pain on me for hours on end,” I told Falcon as I popped a fry into my mouth.

“It’s not about pain, darlin’. They don’t need their filthy hands on your delicate skin.”

They all rolled their eyes, and I couldn’t resist. “Well, you have your hands on other women to do their tattoos. I don’t tell you to quit your job.”

“The difference is that it’s my job. And you’re mine, so why would I let someone else touch my canvas? More importantly, why would you want someone to?”

His gaze was a mix of genuine curiosity and hurt. The guys all hustled out of the reception area back to their stations. I wiped my hands, turning in my chair to face him. “Falcon, if you haven’t caught on to my sarcasm by now, we have other issues. I don’t want anyone else to give me ink. But you still don’t want me dancing, yet that’s literally how we met.”

“That’s different. I told you why.”

“I know, I know. It’s all dangerous,” I said with finger quotes. “But is it? Don’t guys from the club work there? And Mama Hen is there a lot, along with a lot of the bunnies who have become friends of mine. Do you care about the safety of Mama Hen and my friends?” He stared back without a word, so I went on. “If you would just admit you simply don’t want me stripping, maybe I would let it go.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

I grabbed his wrist. “Ah-ha! I knew it!”

He leaned in and kissed me hard. I completely relaxed into him, not caring whether he was keeping me from stripping because of danger or his possessive nature. He pulled away only inches. “What do you want me to draw for you?”

“Surprise me.” Who was I kidding? I love this man.

“Is that right?” he asked before I could fall back into my thoughts. “I have some ideas. Hey,” he said, then looked over his shoulder before facing me again. “If you get a bad vibe from anyone, you’ll tell me, right?”

My brow furrowed. “You mean one of these guys?” None of them ever made me think twice.

He tucked some hair behind my ear and looked over my face. “No. These guys are straight. If I’m not around, you can count on them. Just, anything that doesn’t seem right, you tell me. Even if you have to text me, I want to know immediately. Can you do that?”

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