His to Claim (2 page)

Jessica had also told her about the exciting Dominance/submission relationship she
had going with Mr. Ranier, which made Melanie weak in the knees just thinking about.

“You’re really lucky, you know that?” She smiled. “You found the right guy and now
you’re getting married.”

Jessica nodded. “I know it. But as you recall, it wasn’t easy.”

“Nothing ever is.”

Jessica reached out and placed her hand over Melanie’s. “You know, there’s no reason
you and Rafe—”

“Jessica, forget it. It’ll never happen.”

“It could.”

“No. It didn’t happen after two years of working together. Most of that time was before
he met you. But he was attracted to you right off.” She shook her head sadly. “I have
to face it. The guy just isn’t into me.”

“It’s all in the context. You were his secretary—”

“And you were Mr. Ranier’s personal assistant.”

Jessica squeezed Melanie’s hand. “If you gave Rafe a chance to get to know you outside
the office, I’m sure everything would change.”

“Look, can we just change the subject?” Melanie had been intending to tell Jessica
about Rafe coming into the store today, but not now. Jessica meant well, but Melanie
just didn’t want to think about what might have been. More like, what couldn’t be.
“Are you going to tell me what the surprise is you told me about?”

Jessica smiled broadly. “Okay. Well, I know that your birthday isn’t until next week,
but I want to give you your gift now.”

She handed Melanie a lilac envelope with her name written in Jessica’s lovely script
on the front. Melanie opened it and inside found a gift certificate for a tattoo studio.
She’d once told Jessica that she’d always wanted a tattoo, but they were expensive
and she couldn’t justify it on her budget.

Melanie stared at the certificate. “This is so generous of you. I really shouldn’t
accept.”

“It’s from Dane, too, and he insisted. We all miss you at Ranier Industries, and we
hope your tattoo gives you a little reminder every day of how much we care about you.”

“Okay, I’m not going to argue. You two are…” Her voice quavered a little, so she just
nodded while she drew in a deep breath. She shrugged. “… terrific.”

She’d never had a friend as sweet and considerate as Jessica. The two women had taken
to each other instantly—it was like they’d known each other for years. Melanie believed
this could be a lifetime friendship.

“So how did you pick the place?” Melanie had been asking around for recommendations.
If she was going to have something inked onto her body she wanted to ensure that the
place was reputable, high quality, and that the artist was talented.

“I asked a friend who is very discerning. The artist you’ll be seeing is Charlie.
He came highly recommended and the online samples of his work are gorgeous. He books
up pretty fast, so I called last week and made an appointment for you on Saturday,
since I know that’s your day off, and I also knew you’d be anxious to get it. You
can move it if it’s not convenient, but it’ll probably mean waiting a couple of weeks.”

“No way. I want to do this as soon as possible. Of course you’ll go with me, right?”

Jessica frowned. “I’m afraid not. I already have plans and I can’t change them.”

“Oh.”

Jessica smiled. “I promise, I’ll try to be there for the next, brand new, wild and
crazy thing you do.”

Melanie nodded. “It’s a deal.”

*   *   *

As Melanie opened the door to Devil’s Ink, she was greeted by the cheerful tinkle
of a bell. She stepped into the clean, brightly lit studio. The walls were a warm
brick red and covered with framed artwork of large, detailed tattoo designs.

There was a glass reception counter on one side and black chairs along two walls with
a coffee table covered with magazines and binders. A large tropical plant stood in
one corner.

“Can I help you?” A tall, lanky woman in a navy tank top and jeans, with several face
piercings and her arms sleeved with tattoos, stood up from her chair behind the counter.

“I have an appointment with Charlie at three o’clock. I just wanted to be here ahead
of time.”

“Sure. There’s some design books on the table there. Coffee machine’s over there.
Help yourself.”

“Thanks.” Melanie sat in one of the waiting chairs and leaned forward to riffle through
the black binders laid out on the low, square table in front of her. She grabbed one
and opened it, then scanned through it. There were a broad range of designs, sorted
into categories. The shading on the designs was very well done, something she’d been
told to watch for.

The bell over the door tinkled and in her peripheral vision, she saw a man in well-worn
jeans, a chain dangling from his belt loop into his pocket, walk past her.

The man walked to the counter. Melanie glanced over the book at his back and couldn’t
help but admire his broad shoulders and thick, muscular arms, showcased by the black
tank top he wore.

Two men stepped into the room from a hallway, one a tall, bald man with a beard, his
solid chest, arms, and neck covered with tattoos, and the other a man with white gauze
on his bicep.

“I’ll be right with you,” the bald man said to the newcomer. “Hey, Rika. Bob’s done.”

“Be right there, Charlie,” the tall, lanky woman called from the other side of a doorway,
then she walked back to the counter and smiled at the man with the gauze.

The bald man, who seemed to be the artist Melanie was here to see, turned to his next
client and said, “Okay, now let me see what I’m working with.”

The new client pulled off his tank top and walked toward him. Melanie’s gaze landed
on the hard, rippling muscles.

“So, you’re sure you don’t want me to alter the moth now that the chick has dumped
you? Maybe change it to an angel?”

This man had a moth tattoo? Rafe had gotten a moth tattoo when he’d been dating Jessica.

“Naw. An angel’s not my style.”

The sound of the man’s familiar voice stunned Melanie.

The artist chuckled. “Yeah, until a chick asks you for it, right?”

She raised her gaze up the broad, tattoo-covered chest, to the man’s face.

“Rafe?”

She put down the book she’d been scanning and stared at him with wide eyes. She never
would have believed Rafe would ever look like
this.
Muscle bound, inked, and breathtakingly hunky in a sexy bad-boy way. He was gorgeous
beyond belief in his designer suits but, man, that was nothing compared to what lay
underneath.

Rafe turned to her. “Melanie?” His lips turned up in that wide smile of his, paired
with the warmth in his eyes that always made her feel special. “What are you doing
here?”

Rafe gazed at Melanie. Her dark blonde hair hung loose, rather than tied back like
she usually wore it at the office and the coffee shop she worked at now. It cascaded
past her smooth, bare shoulders in soft waves, gleaming in the sunlight flowing through
the big window.

She shrugged. “Same as you. Getting a tattoo.”

His lips turned up in a grin. “Really?”

Charlie grabbed a piece of paper Rika handed him, probably the artwork Charlie had
worked up from the basic design Rafe had sent him.

Rafe watched as Melanie walked toward him.

“I’m afraid I’m a virgin,” she said.

Charlie chuckled.

Suddenly, Rafe saw her differently. Not as his sweet, innocent secretary, who wore
demure suits and conservative flats. In those jeans and that lace-edged, black camisole
top that showed off her shapely form, she looked anything but virginal.

Her cheeks heated. “As far as tattoos, I mean.”

Her gaze gliding over his broad shoulders, then down to his abs heated him like the
caress of the noonday sun.

“You’re obviously very experienced,” she said.

Charlie chuckled again.

Rafe found himself tightening at her words, his mind filled with images of her, wide-eyed
and vulnerable, lying in his bed. Fuck, what was wrong with him? This was Melanie.

“It’s just that, I’m kind of nervous about this. I’ve always wanted one, but it’s
so permanent—and I know it’s going to hurt.”

He quirked his head. “Would you like me to stay with you?” He grinned. “Maybe hold
your hand.”

She just nodded, and a need to be there for her, and protect her, washed through him.

“Could I watch while you get yours done?”

“You don’t have any problem with that, do you, Charlie?”

Charlie grunted. “The more the merrier.”

Charlie turned and headed to the hallway leading to his room. Rafe gestured for Melanie
to precede him, and he followed her down the hall, his gaze settling on the delightful
sway of her hips.

Once in the room, Charlie glanced at Melanie and pointed at a nearby chair. “You can
sit there.”

Rafe sat down and Melanie watched as Charlie applied the template, then peeled it
off.

“That work for you?” Charlie asked.

Rafe was happy with the placement of the design and nodded.

Melanie admired the design he was getting on his chest. It was the words
SAVAGE KISS
in the shape of a guitar. “That’s the name of your band, isn’t it?”

Rafe nodded once. “All my life music has been an outlet for me, a way to let go of
my anger after one of my father’s beatings, or a way to burn off my frustration when
I was pushed into a business I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be in. So this tat is
not only to remember the year I spent with my band, but a symbol of what a huge part
of my life music has always been. It saved me when I had nothing else.”

“That’s beautiful.” Melanie eyed the tattoo machine Charlie picked up and seemed to
jump at the buzzing sound when he turned it on.

Rafe had done this enough times that he was used to it, so it didn’t faze him when
Charlie started the outline, but he knew for Melanie, being her first time, she might
have a hard time with it. He hoped his relaxed attitude during the whole process would
calm her, but he could see the distress in her eyes as she watched the angry swirls
taking the shape of a guitar on his chest.

The tattoo took about an hour, and Melanie watched intently the whole time. Once it
was done, he stared in the mirror at Charlie’s handiwork. Perfect as usual. Anxiety
filled Melanie’s eyes as she stared at the redness around the edges. Charlie applied
cream to the tattoo and placed the gauze over it, then Rafe stood up.

“I guess it’s my turn now,” Melanie said reluctantly.

“Who’s doing yours?” he asked.

“I am,” Charlie said. He walked over to the workstation and returned with a template.
“Where’s it going?”

“Oh, um … right here.” She pointed to the top of her right breast.

“Okay. You wanna sit or lie down?”

She glanced at the padded table he had by the wall, then shook her head. “I’ll sit.”

Melanie sat in the leather chair, biting her lip.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine,” Rafe said.

She nodded, but looked even more nervous as Charlie sat down and rolled his stool
close to her.

“You gonna take off the top, or just pull down the edge?” Charlie asked.

“Oh,” she gazed at Rafe, then glanced at the paper template in Charlie’s hand, “will
it work to just tuck it down?”

“Yeah, why not?”

Rafe’s gaze locked on Melanie’s fingers as she slowly tugged down the top edge of
the fabric, revealing the swell of her breast.

God damn, she was sexy. But he shouldn’t be thinking of her that way.

As she pulled the fabric lower, revealing more sweet, creamy flesh, he realized that
she didn’t work for him anymore, so he could think about her any way he wanted. As
long as he didn’t act on it.

Unless she wanted him to.

Would she, he wondered.

Charlie placed the paper on her round flesh, and as he rubbed it to make it smooth
against her skin, Rafe wished he could be doing that. He longed to feel that lovely
curve.

Charlie peeled away the paper, leaving a beautiful design of a bird taking flight.

“Nice.” Rafe smiled.

“Thanks. I did the design myself.”

Surprise skittered through him. He knew she liked to express herself with color, like
her nail polishes, but he hadn’t realized she had an artistic bent.

“It’s beautiful. You’re very talented.”

“Thanks.”

Her cheeks flushed pink. He didn’t know if it was from the compliment, or the fact
that half her breast was exposed.

“My parents weren’t very supportive of my dreams either. They worked menial jobs and
pushed me to go to college to be the family success story, to make all their sacrifices
worthwhile. So I went and got my administrative degree, even though I really wanted
to go to art school. But they never would have supported that—so the only way I ever
got to express myself these past few years is through my nail art. But I really want
to bring it back into my life. I love to imagine things and bring them to life through
my artwork.”

When Charlie turned on the tattoo machine, Melanie jumped at the sound. Rafe stepped
to her side and rested his hand on her forearm.

“I’m gonna start now,” Charlie said. “You gotta stay real still. Got that?”

She eyed him, nodding uncertainly.

“It’s okay. It ain’t gonna hurt too much.”

Charlie was a little rough around the edges, but he had his compassionate side.

“Okay.” But as he leaned toward her, Melanie’s hand slipped around Rafe’s forearm,
and her fingers tightened.

Rafe covered her hand with his. “Breathe.”

She drew in a deep breath as Charlie pressed the device to her skin. At the first
contact, her eyes widened, but she didn’t move.

“You doing okay?” Rafe asked.

She nodded again, watching Charlie work. Rafe watched in fascination as the artist
glided the machine over her creamy breast, the skin reddening around the black line
of the design as he moved. Melanie continued to breathe deeply, but soon began to
relax a little.