Page 7 of Three Reasons

With every touch of my needle and brush of my arm against his stomach, his abs ripple and flex. Nothing has tempted me to lick a client before, but this man, both of them, steal all rationality from my brain right now.

With the outline finished, I take a moment to wipe it clean and apply a touch of Vaseline before asking, “Do you need a break?” I’m half-hoping he does because I need the world's coldest shower or, at least, a cool glass of water to simmer my over-heated body down.

The fuck is wrong with you, Gray?I’ve never had this kind of reaction to a man before, let alone two. I’m turned on, I’m aware of their desire for me, and it’s all making me confused as fuck. I don’t like it.

“I’m good, sugar.” Callan winks when I growl at him.

Can’t smack the client, Gray. Bad for business.I repeat it over and over.

The front doorbell chimes, and I use it as the opportunity to get a break and, hopefully, a cold blast of air from outside. “Be right back, guys,” I mutter as I remove my gloves and head out front.

When I purchased this building three years ago, I wanted to be successful, but I never dreamed it would happen so quickly. My clients are primarily regulars from around the province; they bring their friends, and word of mouth has kept me in business since that first year.

I’d been nervous about opening with my vintage sense of style. I didn’t think it would be well-received, if I’m honest. Sometimes, I still expect it to blow up in my face one day.

Luck had shined down on me before I even thought of doing this for a living. My first tattoo was done by one of the most renowned artists in Canada, and when I kept going back to him with some of my own drawings and ideas, he took an interest in me. Asked if I’d ever thought of creating art on skin.

From there, I began apprenticing with him. I was mostly the shop bitch, but once I got to start working on people, on flesh that wasn’t my own, he saw my talent truly shine and gave me my first gun and my own station.

To this day, I don’t think there was a time in my life when I’d been happier. Wesley started me on this path, and because of him, I have everything I never considered could be mine.

He passed away shortly after I opened theshop and didn’t get to share in my success thanks to him. Ever since then, I’ve felt so lost and alone. I nearly quit because I didn’t think I could do it without Wesley’s support.

Every time I thought about closing up shop, I’d hear his voice in my head telling me not to give up, telling me I couldn’t let my parents win or give in to the gossips yammering about my failure. So I sharpened my focus, built my clientele, and every now and again, I think I sense his presence around here. Feel hispride shining through the pinup girls I was able to keep from his old business. They adorn a good portion of one wall, mixed in with my own designs.

The bright pink sofa along the front window always makes me smile because Wesley hated pink, but he let me put it in his shop because it gave the place character. Bringing it with me was one of the best decisions I made when I moved to Ruby. It also helps when I see all the big-ass dudes who sit on it looking uncomfortable, and it makes me laugh.

A knock at the door steals my attention, and I roll my eyes when I recognize Tad standing out there, pretending he’s freezing in his giant parka. “Hey, boss lady!” he calls through the door as I unlock it.

Tad’s a great guy, mostly. He’s been with me for a few months now. He’s a great artist, turns thirty next month, and is kind of a party boy, but he does phenomenal work. His clients love him as well, so I keep him around. He’s good company when I’m not being bitchy. The problem is the woman he’s fucking. She follows him everywhere he goes and has no respect for those around her.

“Tad,” I say in warning as I open the door for him to enter. Two weeks ago, the bitch came in high or drunk, probably both, and started hitting on a badass biker I had been working on. His Ol’ Lady happened to be here to get her own ink that day and didn’t take too kindly to some whore striking it up with her man. Of course, I didn’t blame her and just asked her to take it outside. I told Tad she wasn’t allowed back.

He’s respected that until now.

“I know, boss lady, I know. She’s real sorry.” His pleading won’t work on me.

“Don’t care, Tad.”

“I only have two clients tonight. She won’t get in your way or interfere,” he presses.

Glaring at the two of them, I stand firm. “She can ‘not’ interfere by leaving.” I notice how she balls her fists at her sides, and I smirk. She’s pissed,good.

“Do you have any idea who I am? The influence I have here?” Her whine gets on my nerves.

“The better question is, do I fucking care?” I know exactly who she is…the town whore. The daughter of some county judge and a pain in my fucking ass. I couldn’t give two shits about her.

Steam practically billows from her ears as she takes a step closer, and Tad puts a hand on her stomach to curtail her. “You’re such a righteous bitch. Thinking you’re better than everyone else when you’re nothing but a frigid little cunt. No one wants you. Why don’t youjust pack up and leave town already!”

I’ve spent so many years not allowing people’s opinions of me to matter anymore. Still, every once in a blue moon, someone nails my biggest insecurity—being unwanted—and it stings. My heart burns with fire because I’ve felt that way my entire life.

The words make it easier to build my walls higher, harden my heart further, but tonight, I don’t know, they hit differently. Hurt more. Cut through me like a knife, and the sting of tears behind my eyes is more prevalent.

Is it because of my attraction to the two men in the other room?Maybe.I don’t like the idea of them seeing me so exposed, but there’s nothing to be done.

Steeling my voice, I stare her right in the eye. “I don’t think I’m better than everyone.” She snickers. “Just whores like you.” I’m amused at the shock on her face as it’s quickly replaced with rage.

“You fucking bitch!” Tad shouts at me this time. “I’ve been defending you, but Kara’s right, you’re a stuck-up, frigid bitch who needs to get laid. Don’t think we don’t see how you act. Sticking your snobby rich-bitch nose up at everyone else. It’s no wonder no one wants you.”

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