Indelibly Intimate (12 page)

“Hey, Sparky, wrong bed.”

She rose on an elbow. “Sorry bud, I need a little while to recover. You probably do too.”

He shook his head. “You know that’s not what I meant.” He patted the empty pillow next to him. “This spot is already warmed up for you.”

A crease furrowed her brow as she sat cross-legged on the bed. “You still want me to sleep with you?”

“Just sleep. Nothing else to it tonight.”

He tried to pretend her reluctance didn’t bother him. What the hell was so wrong with him that she couldn’t spend a few hours unconscious beside him? It wasn’t as if he were asking for a permanent commitment, just a chance to be near her.

“You know what? Forget it.” He reached for the lamp and switched it off with a snap.

It had apparently been a bad idea. He wished she’d made that clear before he let her use him like a vibrator.

You knew what she wanted and it wasn’t someone to sleep next to, man.

After telling his subconscious to shut the fuck up, he rolled toward the wall and tried to sleep.

Chapter Twelve

Quinn sat in the dark, still staring at the spot where Hammer had been a moment before. She presumed he was still there but she couldn’t see a damn thing.

What was the big deal? Why hadn’t she lain down beside him and gone to sleep? She’d agreed to the bet and it wasn’t as if his asking price were that outrageous anyway. All she had to do was sleep beside him. She could do that, right? So why the hell was she rooted to the spot?

It’s Guy, isn’t it? The last person you slept next to was Guy.

She shook her head and covered her face with her hands. They smelled like Hammer’s soap.

Do you even want Guy to come back?

She didn’t answer the question but it did get her moving. After creeping across the bed, she stood and took the two steps separating her from Hammer. It felt as if she crossed a wall, a huge and ominous defense that had seemed impenetrable a moment before. But when she slipped beneath the covers and snuggled against Hammer’s muscled back, the anxiety fled and she was able to relax.

“Night, Hammer,” she whispered.

It took him a while, but contentment filled her when she heard it.

“Night, Sparky. Sweet dreams.”

She woke with strong arms around her, her ass cradled against a warm body. She scooted closer, wanting to be nearer to the heat.

“You awake?” The deep voice rumbled behind her, drawing a sleepy smile to her lips.

“Am now. Don’t want to be though.”

He laughed and rubbed her leg. “As much as I’d love nothing more than lying here with you all day, we do have a convention to get to.”

She sighed. “Oh. Right.”

He pressed a kiss to her neck and threw the covers off them both. She squealed and scooted down, trying to grab them again.

“Are you crazy? I’ll catch pneumonia! It’s freezing in here.”

He stood and stretched. “You will not. It’s probably 68 degrees in here. Feels good.”

“Stupid polar bear,” Quinn mumbled as Hammer disappeared into the bathroom.

She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. She could still smell him on her pillows. It was an intoxicating scent. She could definitely get used to it.

What seemed like a blink of time later, the covers were ripped from her again.

“Come on.” His palm connected with her ass and a loud smack rent the air. “Get going. We’re going to be late.”

“Can’t. It’s too cold.”

He bent low and scooped her into his arms.

She squealed, gripping his shoulders. “What are you doing?

“I’ve got to get you moving since you don’t seem to be inclined to otherwise.” He let her down, pressing a kiss to the end of her nose. “Come on. I’ll buy you breakfast if you’re ready in ten minutes.”

“Are you kidding?” Her eyes went round. “Ten minutes?”

He glanced at his watch. “Make that nine minutes and fifty seconds.”

She disappeared into the bathroom without another word.

Even though she took fifteen minutes instead of ten, Hammer was as good as his word, and they made their way down to the convention floor with bagels and steaming cups of coffee. Quinn walked fast as they passed the already lengthy lines of convention goers waiting for the doors to open. It was difficult not to feel like a fraud as she and Hammer entered the “staff only” door.

“You okay, Sparky?”

“Yeah,” she said, skirting a half-loaded cart in the aisle. “I’m not used to this side of things. I don’t want to screw up and make you look bad.”

They arrived at their booth. After setting their breakfast on the front table, Hammer wrapped his arms around her. With a sigh, she relaxed against him.

“Listen, you’ll do fine.” His broad hand rubbed up and down her back. “Just be yourself, Sparky, and I guarantee everything will be all right.”

His lips were soft as he pressed them to her forehead and Quinn sighed. Was it even possible to keep a negative emotion around this guy? He was like one of those carbon-water filters. All her bad things went through him and came back good.

“Thanks.” On impulse, she reached up and kissed his lips.

His fingers were gentle as they brushed her bangs from her eyes. “Now come on. We’ve got some setting up to finish and breakfast to eat. The doors will open in less than an hour.”

Setting up Hammer’s tattooing station took almost half an hour. Getting the angle exactly right for passersby to watch without disturbing Hammer’s concentration was harder than Quinn had thought. Once his portfolio books were spread out and his equipment sanitized and ready to go, they sat down to eat.

“So what’s the goal of this?” Quinn tore her blueberry bagel into pieces before dipping them in the small container of cream cheese. “I mean, other than to do a bunch of tattoos for three days.” The chewy, tangy bite was delicious. She needed to remember to say thanks again.

Hammer finished his sip of coffee before answering. “I’m starting my own shop after this convention. Down in Fell’s Point. I’m trying to get my name out there, get recognized to get a client base going.”

“Wow. Fell’s Point, huh? That’s a nice area.”

He nodded. “It’s definitely got the kind of clientele I’m looking for.”

Quinn glanced down at the tattoo on her leg. “You’ve certainly got the talent to have a successful shop. I have to admit, I was worried when I saw you in No Regrets. It didn’t look like a great area.”

Hammer nodded. “Rodney is a good guy. He apprenticed under the same artist I did, a long time ago. He’s satisfied with his little shop. He gave me a good start and I’ll always be grateful for that. But I want more out of this than he does.”

“Makes sense. With talent like this, you should be in the heart of the city.”

His hand was warm on her knee, his thumb caressing the softer skin at the crook. “Thanks, Sparky. Feels good to hear you say that.”

She bit her lip. “Wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”

He glanced at his watch. “We’ve got about twenty minutes.” Standing, he caught her wrist and pulled her up. “Come here.”

After leading Quinn behind the privacy screen they’d set up in the corner—for any shy clients—Hammer wrapped his arms around her.

With a shaky breath, she wound her arms around his neck, the unexpected proximity leaving her uncertain. “What are you doing?”

“You agreed last night. The days are mine if the nights are yours. And I want a good memory to carry with me today.” His lips came down on hers, soft but strong and demanding.

She opened her mouth for him and he wasted no time in tasting her. His tongue traced the fullness of her bottom lip, sending tremors of warmth to her breasts and lower to her belly. He fondled her ass, bringing her fully against him. His erection was hot, a pulsing warmth that flooded her belly with the memory of the night before. Dampness saturated her core and she hitched a leg up on his hip, needing to be closer to him.

His lips left hers, traveling across her jaw. She tilted her head back to give him better access. He kissed and nipped at the soft skin of her neck. Her fingers dug into the dark cotton of his tee shirt, holding on for dear life. He was harder now, the feeling even more exquisite against the crotch of her shorts.

His hand crept beneath her tank, covering her lace-covered breast. He squeezed softly and she moaned.

“Hush,” he whispered against her throat. “Someone might hear you.”

She nodded. It was going to be damn difficult but she’d do her best. But when his fingers ran beneath the lace cup, brushing against her hardened nipple, she wondered exactly how long she could keep silent.

Hammer’s body burned. She was like a fire under his skin, an exquisite itch he couldn’t scratch to satisfaction. No matter how much he touched her, how close he was even with his cock buried deep within her, he still wanted her. Here, in a roomful of people, the only thing separating their entwined bodies from public view was a drawn black curtain.

But the feel of her soft breast against his palm, the taut nipple pebbling between his fingers, the heat of her pussy pressed tight against his groin, it all made his good intentions disappear.

Unable to resist, he lifted her shirt from her breast and bent to taste her nipple through the black lace of her bra. Her sharp intake of breath brought his senses back.

With a heavy sigh, he replaced her shirt. “I guess we should stop. The doors will be open in a minute.”

She nodded but her eyes were hazy, dazed with lust. He pressed another kiss to her lips, unable to ignore her delicious confusion. Twining her fingers through his, he led her back out to the front of the booth.

“I’ll be out here with you until I have a client.”

She cleared her throat and ran a hand through her hair, obviously trying to regain control of her mental faculties. “Okay. So what do I do? Play guard dog while you’re working on somebody?”

He laughed, the mental image of his little firecracker in a dog collar nearly obliterating his good sense. “You’ll greet people, answer questions, schedule tattoos. I’ve got a planner here.” He reached into his bag and pulled the notebook free. “It’s marked with the days and time slots. Just ask me how many slots a particular piece will need.”

“Oh.” She took the book and flipped through it, one hip cocked. “So I’m your secretary.”

He wrinkled his nose, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, yeah. A little. But you’re also my competition piece for tomorrow night.”

“So I’m your secretary and your piece.”

He couldn’t stop his snort. “If that’s how you want to see it, fine. But I think you know you’re more than that.”

She dropped the planner onto the table and sat primly, crossing her legs at the ankle. “You’re damn skippy I’m more than that. I’m your Domme for the weekend.”

He bent low and put his lips to the bare skin of her shoulder. “Only at night, Sparky.”

A voice crackled over the loudspeaker, announcing that the sixth annual Inktastic Convention was officially open. Cheers erupted and the buzz of voices quickly filled the room.

Hammer had done conventions before but never under his own name. He had just long enough to imagine how awful it would be if nobody wanted any tattoos from him. Many of the other artists, established names with large followings, were booked solid weeks before the convention opened. As a relative unknown in this industry, Hammer was counting on a strong showing this weekend to help kick off his new career. What he hadn’t counted on was how great a salesperson Quinn could be when she put her mind to it.

“What are you doing?” he asked as she stood and rounded the corner of the table, hopping atop it and arranging herself with crossed legs like a pinup on a beach blanket.

“Just wait.” She leaned forward and smiled at the first couple guys who came down the aisle. “Hey boys. You looking for Hammer?”

The shorter one glanced at his companion with a puzzled expression. “Who?”

Quinn tipped her head toward the large banner bearing his new shop logo. “Hammer. This is his booth.” She patted her thigh beside the phoenix. Hammer bit his cheek to keep from laughing at the guys’ lust-stricken expressions. “He did this piece. Covered up a god-awful piece of crap, kind of like that one on your arm there.”

The taller guy self-consciously clapped his palm over the fuzzy tribal band on his arm. “Yeah? That’s a cover-up?”

She nodded and winked at them. “Here. What’s your name? We’ve got some free time this afternoon. He can take care of that for you. Why don’t you come back at one?”

Both guys looked over at Hammer. He had kicked back in his chair to watch Sparky as she worked her magic. Crossing his arms over his chest, he nodded at them as if he were the king of this fucking castle.

“Okay.” The taller stranger’s voice shook a little. “One o’clock. See you then.”

After Quinn extracted his name and put it down in the appointment book, the two guys wandered down the aisle, a bit like survivors of some natural disaster. Or a little firecracker named Quinn LaBrea.

Hammer shook his head in wonder. “You are terrifying.”

“What?” She gave him an evil grin as she rearranged herself on the table. “You wanted clients, you’ll get clients. I’m helping them figure out what they want.”

She kept up this approach for another hour, flirting shamelessly with the guys, making friends with the women and filling Hammer’s appointment book faster than he’d ever thought possible. By lunchtime he’d done two small tattoos, sold a canvas piece and was mostly booked for the weekend.

After bandaging the orchid tattoo he’d finished and thanking the woman for her generous tip, he tapped Sparky on the shoulder. “Hey. You doing good?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m great. You’ve got a break for about an hour. Want to go upstairs, maybe get some lunch?” Her hand drew up the length of her leg, rounding the curve of her ass before smoothing back to her knee.

He didn’t miss a bit of it. Not the slight shift of her body, not the way her nipples stood erect beneath her black tank and thin bra, not the way her tongue darted out to dampen her lip.