Ruin (Kings of Carnage MC - Prospects Book 1) Page 3

  Could this day get any better?

  Chapter Four

  Tyra

  I’m caught off guard with this guy being everywhere I turn today. I came here trying to figure out who my dad could possibly be, so when I see the place is completely empty with the exception of him, I have to take a few minutes to hide my nervousness and disappointment. He has me rattled and wishing I had come in here more prepared.

  “What are you wanting done today?” He’s leaning against the counter, taking in every anxious sway of mine.

  “Artist’s choice.” The grin on his face grows beyond what I’d imagine coming from a rough, tough motorcycle guy working in a tattoo shop.

  “Where is it going?”

  “Uh. I’m not sure. I guess that’s artist’s choice too.” I really didn’t have a plan coming in here outside of asking questions about who my dad might be. Getting a tattoo will give me more time asking the questions I need to.

  “Oh baby… you can’t do that to me. Those words make my dick hard as fuck just imagining all the things I want to put on your soft as silk skin.” He’s brushing his fingers up my arm, sending shivers through me with not only his words, but also his touch. Why does he insist on turning up the already explosive chemistry between us by making skin-to-skin contact? I both love and hate what this guy does to me.

  “No restrictions except I need it to be three hundred dollars or less.” I smile when the realization hits his face. I’ll be paying him with the same money he sent me this morning. That’s not something a girl desperate for money should be doing, but I needed a reason to be inside the tattoo shop so I’d have some time to investigate.

  “Three hundred, huh? Take a seat over there and I’ll start working something up.” I’m trying like hell to look around the shop without making him suspicious of my real reason for being here. I’m not sure why I don’t just ask him if he knows the guy in the one single photo I have of my dad. I guess I’m just wanting to take my time and make sure I even want to let my sperm donor know I exist. He might be a lunatic. God knows, my mother is.

  “I didn’t see your motorcycle outside.” In an attempt to calm my nerves and stifle some of the awkward in the air, I start some small talk.

  “Yeah. I have a few rides. Brought the truck this afternoon.” I didn’t even see a truck through the overwhelming nerves I had in the parking lot.

  “Okay… I’m about ready. What are you wearing underneath your shirt?”

  “Just a bra.” Whyyyyy do I sound so damn nervous? This is not who I am. I’m assertive and confident. I’m strong with my voice and I sure as fuck don’t take anyone’s shit… so why am I a ball of nerves around this guy?

  “I guess it’s shirt off.” I whip my head in his direction and look him straight in the eyes, trying to read if he’s serious or not. It’s because he’s unstable. Who knows what will come out of his mouth from sentence to sentence. He has me on edge and not even able to guess what he has going on in that sexy fucking head of his. But even though he has me feeling all the different ways, I’m not hating his flirtatious banter by any means.

  “I’m not getting a tit tattoo.” I decide to throw some of the spunk back in his direction, only igniting the already lit flame burning between us.

  “You said Artist’s choice.” He gives me that drop-dead sexy expression of his that I’ve seen a couple of times now. “I was thinking something on your back, but I can be easily influenced in a different direction.”

  I stand to slip off my shirt, feeling a little more confident about his choice and the fact that I may not even have to take off my bra. “No. My back is good.” I’m glad I’m wearing my cute bra.

  You’d think I’d be second guessing my decision to allow him to tattoo me without knowing what he’s going to put on me, but I’m really not. He seems like he has a good eye for art from the look of his own ink and I truly think he wants me to work for him. This can be his way to show me he’s a great guy to work for.

  The trust I have in him should be screaming at me to run… because if you’d have asked me yesterday who I would allow to tattoo something on me without my approval of the art first, I’d have said not a single person in the world.

  Even though that deep-down trust is there for the tattoo, the room is still thick with unease… at least on my part. That’s probably because my shirt is off, and I’m not exactly used to that kind of transparency. I may be brave enough to allow him to mark me, but that doesn’t erase my nerves going haywire.

  I’m doing my best to cover my chest with my arms, giving myself a hug. He seems to be as cool as they come with confidence and part of me just wants to scream in his direction and throw him off balance. It probably isn’t such a good idea to unleash that much crazy when this guy may be my ticket to finding more about my father… not to mention he’d probably match my crazy tick for every tick.

  “Okay. You’ll be sitting for this one. I have a few tank tops over there in that drawer if you’d feel more comfortable wearing one. Just slip your straps on the right shoulder off before I get started.” He turns his back, busying himself with his equipment either out of respect or he’s actually just trying to get his stuff ready. After my two other interactions with this guy, I’m guessing it isn’t the whole respect avenue he’s decided to take. I’m just waiting for his flirtatious personality to hit the room again with a bang.

  “Are you going to let me know what you’re gonna put on me or will it be a surprise?” I wait until I’m sitting down with the tank top on and shoulder straps in place before I start the conversation.

  “Oh, babe. I plan to put so many things on that body of yours.” There it is. His promise bumps right through my body, sending shivers over every part of me, even hitting what’s not naked to the open air. Choosing not to respond to him is only delaying the inevitable, but that’s the path I decide to take... for now. It’s better to just see how far he’ll take things without the slightest bit of encouragement on my part.

  He turns my direction and inhales sharply. “Fuck. You’re gonna make this fun. I can already tell.”

  “I’m not doing anything.”

  “Exactly. And you’re hot as fuck without even trying.” His palm slides up my leg, stopping just before my shorts end. I try so hard to remain frozen in place, not wanting to let him know that he’s getting to me in the slightest. “Just breathe.” This time his words are a deep whisper just a few inches from my face.

  Shit. He can read right through me. I exhale slowly and look down at my hands, his closeness practically suffocating me even when he rolls his chair in place behind me. The heat from his touch up my leg is still keeping me speechless while he preps my shoulder. The massive reality of what’s about to happen finally hits me. He will forever be the guy who gave me my first tattoo.

  The room is quiet until the buzz of the tattoo gun vibrates between us. “Is this your first tattoo?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s gonna hurt just a little but the more relaxed you are… the better it’ll be. Hell, some of us even crave the burn of new ink.” I wince when he starts but quickly shift and force myself to relax. I really want to make the most of this journey. He’s the expert, so I’m going to listen to what he says while he’s working on me.

  My mind starts to work in so many ways while the room is quiet. This day will forever mark a significant change in my life no matter what path it takes after I leave this shop. I may find out information about my father or I may have reached a dead end and will have to work harder to find him. The easiest way to the next phase would be just to ask Ruin if he recognizes the guy in the picture, but the few things I do know about my father go against making it that easy.

  If the man who came through my window the night I left my mother’s house for good was right, then my dad is one of the Kings from the local MC. He must be one of the top guys if he thought kidnapping me would benefit him in any way. I know he met my mother at this tattoo shop, in fact he gave her a few of her ta
ttoos right in this very building. Or at least that’s one of the few stories she’s told me anyway. Who knows if she was making shit up or not.

  I have one picture of him that’s faded and from a distance, so I can’t really see what he looked like. Not to mention the picture has to be twenty years old because it was taken before my mom knew she was pregnant with me.

  He moves away to turn on some music, interrupting my thoughts. “You doin alright?” I had expected much more talking from him while he worked but having a few minutes to gather myself before I start asking questions is a good thing.

  I nod and try to imagine what he’s putting on me. “So, do you own this shop?” He starts working on me again before he answers.

  “Nah. Poe does.” Poe. How can I find out who Poe is?

  “You work for him?” I choose to work in some small talk and hope I don’t come across as suspicious.

  “Yeah.” Jesus. Can he give shorter answers?

  “That’s cool. How long have you been tattooing?”

  “Officially… over three years. Unofficially, about six.” It doesn’t surprise me in the least that he was doing this long before he was supposed to. I can picture him as one who does what the fuck he wants, when he wants to.

  “That’s awesome. Who taught you?” Come on… give me some information I can actually use.

  “Poe.” He wipes my shoulder and leans in closer to work, obviously not clued in to the reasons behind my questions.

  “Is he the one who did the work on your arms?” I need to know more about this Poe guy and I hope like hell Ruin doesn’t get irritated with my freaking game of twenty questions.

  He stops to look down at his arms and I look over my shoulder to follow his lead. “He did most of this arm. That one there was a cover up on a drunk tat I gave myself.” He’s pointing at his left arm. Then switches to his right. “Yeah, all but this tattoo right here… he did both arms, my chest, back and legs. My neck is next.”

  As much as I’d love to see all of them, I refrain from asking to. Him losing his clothes isn’t going to help me keep the banter level and focus on finding my father. He moves his chair back to where it was, and I look around the room in search of something else to ask about.

  I finally find what I came here looking for. “Is that a picture of your dad over there? He looks like he’s got a lot of tattoos too.” He stops what he’s doing to glance up and then goes right back to work. The picture I have is old, but the one thing I had planned to use from the photo to help me confirm I’ve found the guy I’m looking for was those two tattoos on his forearms. I recognize some of the ink on that guy’s arms.

  “Nah, that’s Poe.” My heart skips a beat with the news. It looks like I’ll need to come back to this shop and ask for Poe next time. If my mother is telling the truth, then he could be my father.

  “How’s it looking?”

  “Like a half-finished session.” After a little stretching on his part, he comes in close to start once again. “So, are you opposed to doing a bit more body paint than we originally discussed?”

  “I’m not opposed. What are you thinking?” I’m loving how easy the conversation is now that we’ve been doing the small talk thing.

  “I need all of my tattoos covered up too. Anything that’s really easy to identify needs to be covered.” I try not to imagine what in the world he’s up to, but it doesn’t work.

  “I can do that. I just really need to get my air brush if you want the cleanest look.” I’m regretting not having more time when I threw everything in my car to escape that psycho in my house. My equipment was in the closet and I didn’t take the time to grab everything.

  “Yeah, it needs to be top-notch because there will be closeup camera shots and video.” Video and pictures… do I even want to know what he’s up to?

  “I can handle the coverage with or without the air brush. It’ll just look better if I have it. When do you want to do a test run?”

  “As soon as possible. In fact, before you leave I’ll order whatever you need.” His offer to pay for the stuff takes some of the pressure off my shoulders because I was trying to figure out how I was going to come up with that much money in a matter of days or find the courage to go back home and try to sneak in without being noticed. “Why don’t you start looking online and we’ll see if we can do a rush shipment on it.”

  I spend the next half hour or so researching what I need and getting it all into an online order while he continues to work on my back. Between a little shifting here and there from the pain of the tattoo, I manage to make it through both the agony of the needle and the torture of the man who’s been sitting so close to me.

  “All done for today. You’ll need two more sessions before it’s completely done.”

  “What?” I stand quickly and turn my shoulder toward the mirror, so I can see what he’s been so focused on. I don’t know whether to scream at him or hug him for what’s staring back at me. It’s weird seeing my shoulder with so much ink on it.

  “I figured I’d give you something that symbolizes the day you met me.” He wipes the excess ink once again, both of us admiring the reflection before us. It’s already so detailed, looking just like me… and him… with skulls replacing both of our faces. I’m straddling him, wearing a sexy top and he’s not wearing one. My hair looks like it’s blowing in the wind. We’re both looking into each other’s eyes as if we’re the only two people in the world.

  “I’ll be adding some color next time.” I’m speechless. The detail is insane.

  “I don’t know what to say.” He takes a step toward me, our bodies now almost touching but not quite. Just close enough that I can once again feel heat radiating off of him.

  “Say you love it.” God, that sexy hum in his voice goes right through me.

  “I do love it.” I manage to speak over the pull between us, locking in on the intensity of his expression in the mirror. Why can’t I look away?

  I can practically see the wheels turning in his mind as the expression on his face morphs, giving away the fact that he’s scheming up his next move. Holding my breath, I’m still expecting him to touch me in some way when the bell dings above the front door.

  “Oh shit. Should I come back later?” There’s the touch I’ve been anticipating. With his grip firm on my hip, we both give our attention to the guy who just sauntered through the door.

  “As much as I’d love to have her all to myself… Spade, you need to meet this one.” Ruin wipes my new ink once again, making it appear even more crisp and detailed than before. My eyes move to take in this ‘Spade’ guy in the mirror while he makes his way over to us. He doesn’t hide the grin on his face when he gets close enough to see my new tattoo.

  “Nice. That’s sexy as fuck. Is there some sort of meaning behind that, sugar?” He sits on Ruin’s stool and props his foot up on the bar of the table that’s nearby. It’s one thousand percent obvious that this guy is comfortable in this space. And after letting my eyes roam over his skin just a little, it’s obvious that he’s spent some time here getting his own work done. His body language screams chill and that makes me feel at ease as well. After such an intense few hours alone with Ruin, I welcome the relief.

  “Sterling… meet Tyra. She’s the artist who did my face this morning before the video.” Sterling? I thought his name was Spade or something like that.

  “Nice to meet you.” I turn to shake his hand and make the mistake of allowing his gray eyes to pierce my fuckin’ soul before the smirk on his face takes over my attention. He piques my interest way more than I will ever admit but the way my body is still reacting to Ruin standing behind me trumps any vibe I’m getting here.

  “Very fuckin’ nice.” This time his voice is lower than it was when he came through the front door.

  “Tyra and I were about to talk business over some drinks. You might need to be in on some of the brainstorming, if you don’t have anything else going on.” Ruin begins to move about the room, disconnecting t
hat invisible string of tension between us just a little.

  “Nah, I’m just here to celebrate your shit today. Are the other guys coming in?” I slide my arm through the strap of my bra and tank top with my back turned to both of them, hoping to tuck myself away in this corner just a little while they do all the small talk they want. I can’t help but wince when my bra strap scrapes my sensitive skin; it’s sore as hell

  “I didn’t have the chance to get ahold of anyone yet, so probably not.” I wonder how many more guys there are in their group of friends… and if the others look like these two.

  “I see how you could be distracted.” He’s cut off quickly when Ruin realizes that I’ve moved my straps back in place.

  “Hold up. I need to wrap that first. Sorry, but I need you to take those straps off again.” So much for disappearing in my own little corner while they forget about me. Both of them begin to stare; I guess they’re expecting me to jump quickly with his request. I’m a bit slow to respond with the heat of them both taking in my every move.

  “So… what is this business talk you have for me?” Yeah, that’s the best I can do with these guys looking at me like this. I’m coming up short when it comes to reeling in a guy today, not that landing a man is anywhere on my radar.

  It’s just been a really long time… as in never… since I’ve been in a situation like this.

  Chapter Five

  Ruin

  I’m hard as fuck for this girl and have been since I met her this morning. It’s been a long fuckin’ minute since I’ve felt like I needed to hold back some of my personality in order to keep from scaring a girl straight out of town but for some reason this girl has me shying away from some of the shit I’d normally say. What can I say… I’m a lot to take.

  She’s asking about business already and I was hoping we could see what’s behind this strong pull between us before she uses an out for the evening activities.