“You look like shit,” he comments, his gaze scanning over my face.

  “Why thank you,” I say, walking across to my station and dropping my bag on the table. “They’re the exact words every woman wants to hear first thing in the morning.”

  “Just calling it how I see it,” Jim says, turning his gaze back to his client’s shoulder and getting back to work. Then despite how thoroughly I cleaned my station after Crew and I screwed all over it last night, I give everything another wipe down and put my bag in the back.

  My first client of the day is just arriving for her consultation, and we spend the next twenty minutes going over everything she wants. She’s a virgin when it comes to ink, but she wants a whole sleeve, and I groan to myself, knowing that when she returns next week to actually start the process, it’s going to be a painful day. Today, we’re just talking design.

  It’s well after lunch when Crew finally walks in, and just as usual, he comes straight to me and drops a kiss to my cheek, only this time, his hand lingers on my back a second longer than normal. “How are you feeling?” he murmurs, his hungry gaze sailing over my face, probably remembering exactly how it felt to push inside of me.

  “Like someone poured a whole bottle of tequila down my throat and then fucked me until I couldn’t stand.”

  He grins, his hand lowering to my ass. “You still feel me between those pretty thighs, don’t you?”

  My cheeks flush, and I don’t miss the way my afternoon client lifts his head and locks his gaze onto mine, raising a brow as a smirk stretches across his face. I groan and look up at Crew. “Don’t you have something you need to be doing?”

  “No, no, no,” my client rushes out, stealing my attention right back. “Please, finish your conversation. I’m dying to hear how this one turns out.”

  I roll my eyes and look back at Crew, stepping into him and lifting my chin as his hand finds my waist. “I feel you with every step I take. Every time I sit down, every time I tilt my hips even an inch. I feel you everywhere,” I murmur, my tongue rolling over my bottom lip, remembering just how easily he took control of my body and made me come alive.

  Crew leans in, his nose skimming along the sensitive skin below my ear. “How is it possible for me to need you so badly already?”

  “Hey,” Big Jim calls out, making me all but spring away from Crew. My head whips toward Jim to see him staring between me and Crew, his brows furrowed. “Is something going on that I need to be aware of?”

  “No,” I rush out, looking guilty as all hell.

  His gaze narrows further, lingering on Crew with a deep suspicion that he’s somehow taken advantage of me—as if I didn’t hold all the power. “In that case, this ain’t a fucking whore house. Both of you get to work.”

  “Yes, sir,” I mutter under my breath, turning back to my client as Crew snickers to himself and strides off toward his station. I get sucked into what I’m doing, putting in extra effort to make sure it’s perfect, but over the next hour, Big Jim’s curious gaze never leaves me.

  I hate when he does this. Every few months he starts to worry about me like I can’t handle myself, and then I have to prove to him that I’m not the struggling kid he first met when I was seventeen years old. It’s a vicious cycle, but he should know by now that I always come out on top, no matter how hard I have to fight to get there. I’m not the type who gives up.

  Crew is busy working on a spine tattoo while busily trying to avoid his client’s shameless flirting, and with my next client not due for another twenty minutes, I take my opportunity to have a quick break. “You guys want me to order you anything?” I ask, scrolling through the endless options on my phone.

  “Always,” Big Jim says just as Crew mutters, “Nah, baby. I’m good.”

  I get busy ordering lunch, and as I tidy up my station while I wait for my food, my gaze shifts back to my phone, and before I know it, I’m typing in the number that Alex left on my door.

  Kyah - Why the hell did I come home to find your number on my door?

  I hit send, and the moment I do, my gaze awkwardly shifts toward Crew. I wonder how he’d feel if he knew I was messaging Alex the night after he’s screwed me into oblivion, but my wondering doesn’t last long when Alex’s response comes shooting right back.

  Alex - Figured you need it seeing as though I’m taking you out tonight.

  Kyah - I thought I told you that I don’t date my neighbors.

  Alex - Thought I told you I didn’t care.

  A wide grin stretches across my face, and suddenly, I feel like a teenage girl talking to her crush for the first time. I’m giddy and excited, and that could only mean one thing—trouble. And yet, I can’t find it in myself to put my phone away.

  “Yo,” Crew asks, nodding toward me, his brows furrowed as a deep suspicion flickers in his eyes. “What’s got you smiling like that?”

  I press my lips into a hard line and glance away, unable to meet his stare. “Nothing.”

  I feel Crew’s piercing stare on the side of my face, and I try to ignore it, feeling like the biggest asshole in the world, which is exactly why I didn’t want to cross that line in the first place. But damn it, there’s no denying that last night was incredible. I’ve never been fucked like that, and yet, there was still something missing. I needed more, but I’m not sure what.

  Kyah - Saturdays are a no-go for me. I work till after ten, and I already have plans for a girls’ night after that. Not that it matters anyway because you’re not taking me out.

  Alex - I can work with that.

  Kyah - What the hell is that supposed to mean? Work with that?

  I wait by my phone for an explanation, and after twenty minutes, I finally realize I won’t be getting one. My food is delivered, and I quickly eat in the back room before my next client arrives. An hour later, as I finish up the shading on his sleeve, I hear the familiar chime above the door.

  “Where’s my fucking girl?” Viper’s deep tone rumbles through the store.

  Oh no. I fucking love Viper, but why’s he always gotta come in when Crew is working?

  Crew immediately mutters under his breath as my head whips up, finding Viper already making his way through the shop with one of his henchmen at his back. “Well hey, trouble,” I say, my gaze flickering to the guy behind him as they stride past Big Jim’s station and toward mine. “You didn’t have an appointment today, did you?” I ask, starting to panic that maybe I’d double-booked.

  “Nah, don’t stress, baby. You’re good,” he tells me before indicating toward the guy at his back. “Spider wants to book in with the best in the business. Figured while we were close by, I’d introduce you.”

  “Yeah, cool,” I say, glancing toward Spider. “What were you thinking of getting?”

  Spider pulls his shirt up, showing off the goodies. “Chest and back. I want something to represent the Grim Reapers,” he mutters, referring to the motorcycle club they belong to. “Hooded reaper maybe. Something a little fucked up that sends a message.”

  I nod, and a design weaves through my mind already. After working on Viper’s men for the past few years, I have more than enough ideas to work with. “I got you,” I say. “When did you want to get started?”

  “As soon as you can get me in.”

  I nod before pointing toward my schedule. “Could you grab that?” I ask Viper.

  He doesn’t hesitate, grabbing the little black book and putting it down in front of me, and I peel my gloves off before flicking through the pages. I don’t exactly have time to squeeze him in, but Viper’s guys have always been good to me, so I go out of my way to make sure I fit them in. “Ummm . . . I could have a design concept drawn up by the end of the week, and assuming you’re good with it, we could start as early as next week, but you’re in for some long sessions.”

  Spider nods, and I scrawl his name into my schedule before closing the little book and grabbing a fresh pair of gloves. I position myself back beside my client, and as Viper and Spider turn to leave, I call out, “Hey, Viper,” and watch as he turns back. “If you’ve got ten, could you hang around? I wanna see how your chest is healing.”

  He nods, his heavy gaze lingering on mine. “We’ll be out front.”

  Perfect.

  Turning back to my client, I finish up his shading before cleaning him up and making sure he’s all good to go. He stands in the mirror for way too long, and as he flexes to himself, watching how his ink sits with his body, Crew glances toward me, a heavy scowl across his face. “Really?” he questions, arching a brow, his tone thick with disdain. “Viper’s been inked more than anyone in this fucking room and suddenly you think he might need a little guidance with his aftercare?”

  I stare back at him, suspicion deep in my gaze, not liking his tone. “If you’re jealous, just say that.”

  Crew scoffs. “Jealous? Of Viper? Get fucked, babe. I’ve already got you. I don’t need to be jealous of some asshole who can’t catch a fucking hint.”

  Irritation burns through my veins. Already got me? I mean, sure. He fucked me last night, left his mark from one end of my apartment to the other, but that doesn’t mean shit. We talked about my boundaries, and as far as I was concerned, he was okay with them.

  “Then what’s your issue?” I demand, getting frustrated with him, ignoring his comment about already having me because right now, all he’s about to have is my foot shoved so far up his ass he won’t walk for a week. “I’ve been working on Viper for years, and you know just as well as I do that he doesn’t give a shit about aftercare, and I spent way too many hours on that piece to have him come back in here in a few weeks telling me it healed like shit. So yeah, I asked him to stay so I could check up on it, but you know what? I don’t owe you any explanations, and I sure as hell shouldn’t be standing here trying to justify myself to you. He’s my client, and if I wish to check how his chest is healing, then that’s none of your damn business.”

  Crew stands and steps into me. “You’re leading him on,” he growls, getting in my face, his hand balling into a fist at his side. “And you’re only fucking doing it to get at me. To prove some fucking point that you don’t belong to me, but I told you, Ky. You’re mine. Whether you fucking like it or not.”

  “The fuck did you just say to me?” I demand. “You might have made me scream your name all night, and we might have something worth looking into in the future, but if this is the kind of bullshit I’m going to get from you for simply looking out for one of my clients, then you can forget it. You’ll never fucking touch me again. Don’t make me regret what we did, Crew.”

  He clenches his jaw just as the bell over the door chimes and Viper strides back into the shop. He takes one look at the standoff between me and Crew, and a cocky grin stretches across his face. “Trouble in paradise?” he laughs, already gripping the hem of his shirt and pulling it up over his head, putting that impressive torso on display.

  For fuck’s sake. I swear, Viper’s timing is always on point.

  I roll my eyes and step away from Crew as my client finally pulls his shirt on and makes his way back to the reception desk to pay, probably sensing this isn’t somewhere he wants to be right now. Then despite having a girl working the desk today, I walk back around with him, needing a minute to calm down before having to face Viper.

  He thanks me before finally getting his ass out of the shop, and when I turn back around, I find Viper and Crew looking as though they’re about to tear each other to shreds. “Fucking hell,” I mutter under my breath.

  Making my way back to my station, I shove my hand against Crew’s big shoulder, forcing him back a step, a deep ugliness in my tone. “Knock it off,” I tell him. “Your client’s waiting.”

  Crew looks at me as though he wants to tear the flesh right off my body. “We’re not done with this conversation.”

  “We were fucking done with it before it even started,” I hiss.

  Viper steps closer into my back as though I need some kind of protection, and with that, Crew finally relents, clenching his jaw as he walks back to his station, muttering something under his breath.

  “You good?” Viper asks from behind me, his hand falling to my waist.

  I let out a heavy breath and turn back to face him, letting his hand fall away. “Fine,” I say. “Just trying to work out where we stand with each other.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks as I cross my station to grab a new pair of gloves and a few supplies.

  “It’s nothing,” I say, indicating for him to take a seat in my chair.

  Viper does as I’ve asked, and as I lean over him to peel the bandage back, I feel his heavy gaze lingering on my face. “You fucked him, didn’t you?” he murmurs, keeping our conversation private.

  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” I say.

  “Ahh shit, babe,” he mutters as though I’d just made some horrible, life-changing mistake that I’ll never be able to come back from. “You know he’s no good for you.”

  My brows furrow. Why would he think that? Apart from the fact I’m not ready for a relationship or that I want to skin him alive right now, Crew and I make the perfect match. But considering everything we talked about last night, I didn’t think a jealous Crew was something I was going to have to worry about.

  “Funny,” I say, my gaze locked on Viper’s chest, suddenly very uncomfortable. “That’s exactly what he tells me about you.”

  Viper laughs. “He’s right. I’m no fucking good for you. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t treat you like my fucking queen.” I don’t respond, and when his hand finds my waist again, my gaze lifts to his, not believing him for a second. “I’m serious.”

  “About what?” I ask. “That Crew’s no good for me or that you’d treat me like a queen?”

  “Both,” he says. “But I’m talking about Crew. You’ve always had blinders on when it came to him. You’ve been friends for years, but he’s only ever shown you the parts of himself he wanted you to see. You don’t know him like I do, and if you really want to get involved with him, that’s your call. I just want you to be careful.”

  Unease pulses through my veins. What does he mean know him like I do? Outside of this shop, I wasn’t aware they knew each other at all. I mean, sure. Their lives might have crossed here and there, but Crew doesn’t involve himself with the Grim Reapers. “Care to elaborate?”

  Viper shakes his head, his gaze flicking toward Crew for just a moment, the tension reaching the boiling point between them. “No. Just be careful.”

  I let out a heavy breath. “Let me guess, this is one of those, you’ll kill him if he ever does something to hurt me scenarios.”

  “That goes without saying, Ky,” he says. “I’ve told you from the start. I want you to be my old lady, but I know you’re not down for that, at least not yet. So I’ll let you play around with these little toys to keep you warm at night, and when it’s time, I’ll come and take you for myself, but if any of these little fuckers hurt you in the meantime, they’ll have me to deal with.”

  “You make it sound as though I don’t even have a choice in the matter.”

  “You don’t,” he says as though it’s already set in stone. “But when the time comes, you won’t need the choice. You’ll already know exactly where you belong and you won’t want anything else. I promise you that.”

  I roll my eyes and focus on what I’m doing, knowing damn sure a life as his little motorcycle club wife who has to share him with a bunch of whores isn’t ever going to be a reality I’ll settle with. “You’re so damn sure of yourself.”

  “You don’t get to where I am by being a little bitch,” he tells me.

  I laugh because damn, he’s got one hell of a point, but in this particular case, he’s dead wrong.

  Finally peeling the rest of the bandage off, I look over the massive tattoo and grin to myself. It’s fucking gorgeous. I really outdid myself with this one, but it’s still got quite a bit of healing to get through.

  After quickly cleaning him up, I start applying some ointment to his chest to help the healing process, and as my hands glide over his toned chest, the little bell over the door chimes once again.

  On instinct, I glance back to see who’s walked through the door, and my hands pause on Viper’s chest as I stare back at Alex, looking just as devilishly delicious as he did the other day.

  9

  KYAH

  Alex, A.K.A. Dirty Perv Neighbor who likes to do a little parkour down the stairs of my apartment, stares at me like he’s hoping for a challenge. A cocky smirk lingers on his lips as his eyes seem to dance with silent laughter, and damn it, I can’t resist. He’s like the perfect snack just waiting to be eaten.

  Excitement drums through my veins, and my brow arches as a stupid grin tears across my face. “You must be lost,” I say, my fingers pausing on Viper’s chest, as my gaze sails over the way his black shirt seems to be glued to his body like a second skin. But damn it, those strong thighs. He could crush me alive with those thighs.

  “Who the fuck is this guy?” I hear Crew mutter from his station, no doubt able to hear the way my tone hitched up with excitement. Hell, it’s the way I used to talk to him when I was seventeen and just starting here, when I thought the whole world revolved around him. He treated me like a little sister then, but as I got older, it shifted. I loved the new way he looked at me, but I’ve learned that my world doesn’t revolve around any man, only me, and if they can’t find a way to fit into my orbit, then they need to go.

  Ignoring Crew’s question, I keep my gaze focused on Alex, loving the way his eyes seem to dance with an enticing darkness. “I told you, Mace, I’m taking you out,” he says, bracing his elbows on the front counter and peering at me across the shop. “You said you can’t go out tonight, so I’m taking you out now.”

  Viper scoffs, and I press a little harder against his skin, though something tells me he’s the kind who gets off on the pain.