The Dom With the Perfect Brats (3 page)

She arched a brow at his blatant perusal. “Well, it’s not going on my tits if that’s what you’re hoping.”

Gemma almost choked. This Izzy didn’t mince words. Jake turned
bright red. Even Cross and Malachi stopped what they were doing to look toward them. Cross’s gaze lingered a little long, Gemma thought.

Jake composed himself. “Right. Where then?”

“I was thinking my hip.” She pulled up her t-shirt to reveal her flat stomach.

With her satchel on one shoulder, Gemma headed to the front of the stop. “That’s a painful place to start with, hon.”

Izzy and Jake turned to Gemma.

Izzy shrugged. “We
Aussies are tougher than you lot.” The small smirk said she was joking.

“Sure you are.” He chuckled. “
But Gemma’s right. I don’t recommend the hip for a first-timer.”

At Izzy’s side, Gemma asked, “Was there another spot you were thinking about?”

“God save me from helpful Americans.” She sighed. “Ankle?”

Gemma fought back a grin. “Ankle is better, but if you’re dead set on your hip, I’m sure Jake will take your money and do it.”

She laughed. “No, ankle is fine.”

“First thing you do at a tattoo shop is ask to see the artist’s profile,” she told Izzy.

Jake slapped a book on the table then gave the girl a cocky look. Izzy flipped through the first few pages while Gemma peered over her shoulder. His work was pretty fucking amazing.

“There.
” She pointed to a picture of graffiti-style old-school boombox, rich with color and personality. “See the thick black outline? It’s solid, smooth. No shakiness. That’s the sign of a good artist.”

Izzy stared at the picture.

“Listen, I don’t work here yet so I can give you an unbiased opinion. He’s a good artist. He’ll give you a beautiful tattoo.”

Malachi chimed in from the other side of the L-shaped counter. “Jake’s one of the best. I taught him myself.”

“You wish, man,” Jake said with a scoff. “I learned my style on the streets.”

Izzy looked from Jake to Malachi. Then her gaze fell on Cross. She did a double-take and stared for a few solid seconds.

Yeah, Gemma understood that feeling. She bit back a chuckle. Cross glanced up, met Izzy’s gaze then slid his to Gemma and winked. She almost blushed.

Jake and Malachi were arguing about who taught who what. Izzy looked a little shaken after she managed to pull her gaze from Cross’s toned biceps. So he had that effect on her too?

She took Izzy’s hand and led her to the couch by the door. “Have a seat. Jake will draw you something and you can say yes or no. All the power is yours. If you don’t like it, we’ll just make him change it, even if it takes a hundred times.”

“I’ll get it in one shot,” he yelled from the counter, pencil already in hand. “I’m that good.”

Grimacing, Izzy toyed with the corner of her shorts. “He’s a cocky bastard, isn’t he?”

She
laughed. “Most guys are.” For some reason, she looked at Cross just then.

To her surprise, he was watching them, a mysterious look on his face. Maybe he had
the hots for Izzy. Men usually liked foreign girls.

Izzy looked up at her.
“It’s Gemma, right?”

“Yes.”

“Be honest, Gemma. How much does it hurt?”

She sighed. Classic question. Now how to answer so she didn’t scare the shit out of her. She had a feeling Izzy was in it either way, but making her nervou
s wouldn’t help anyone. “Not gonna lie. It does hurt. But if you’re going small and Jake is quick, it shouldn’t be too bad. Did you know women have a higher pain tolerance than men?” With a head nod at Cross, she said, “That big guy there just had his calf tattooed and almost bawled on the table.”

Izzy laughed.

Cross’s eyes narrowed. “Shouldn’t tell lies, little girl.”

Her stomach
thunked
again. Why was it hot when he called her something so patronizing? An image flashed in her mind – Cross, naked and rising above her, stern look on his face. Again, she had to pull her mind out of the gutter.

“You can handle it,” she said to Izzy. “Trust me. And Jake will give you as many breaks as you need, right Jake?”

He looked up from his drawing. “Don’t worry about anything. I’m fast and gentle.” His lips curved into a wide smile. “At tattooing anyway.”

“Americans,” Izzy muttered under her breath.

Gemma shook her head. “No. Men.”

Izzy

The warmth of Gemma’s hand in hers had stirred Izzy in ways she’d not allowed herself to feel for a long time. Even now she knew just where Gemma’s slender fingers had lain across her palm.

The guy with the goatee emerged from behind the counter with a sheaf of papers in hand.
“I’m Malachi.” He picked up a spindly chair and a small square table, put the chair in front of Gemma and the table between the two girls, then he gestured at Gemma. “Take a seat and fill these in. I’ll check your references tonight if I can. Maybe you can come in tomorrow for work.” He looked at Izzy. “You okay with Gemma to look out for you?”

“Yes.” She nodded.

“Good.” He gave Gemma the thumbs up then walked back to where the big tattooed man was studying something below eye level.

“Are you sure
, Gemma?”
Do. Not. Blush.
She managed to hold it in. After having touched skin, saying her name seemed so personal. Red hair, open friendly expression, and gorgeous figure in black jeans, and she was right here, inches away. “I don’t want to mess up your day, especially seeing you don’t have a job here yet.”

“Sure.” She straddled the chair and lazily waved the pen at Jake. “I’ll stay and guard you from the badass tattoo guys.” After a last dazzling grin, she bent her head and frowned at the paper.

“He’s nothing compared to some of the guys back home.”

“You come from a tough neighborhood?” Her distracted tone said her concentration was more on the paperwork.

“Just Brisbane. Biggish place. There’s all sorts.”

“Like anywhere.”

The lightest of freckles sprinkled her cheeks, and now and then the tip of Gemma’s tongue tasted the end of the pen. Adorable. Leaning over as she was, the curves of her breasts pressed out the green t-shirt, revealing cleavage...and a hint of outlined nipple. If she kept staring someone would catch on. Izzy wriggled the tiniest bit.

Jake was still scratching at the paper. The other two – Malachi and Mister Tattooed God of the
Rock-like Biceps – were talking quietly.

She settled back in the chair and tried not to fiddle with the bottom edge of her shorts.
Nerves got to her sometimes. “The big guy over there though. Is he your boss? If he is… Fuck.”

At that Gemma raised her head and flashed
that big smile of hers. “No. He just owns the building. Scared?”

She gave a pretend shudder and grinned back. “Yes. But in a nice way. I should add flirting with him to my bucket list.”

The restrained giggle from Gemma was so endearing.

“Cross? On a bucket list? Isn’t that for just before you die?”

“No. Not always. When I left Australia I started it. I’ve done bungee jumping. Gone to the top of the Eiffel Tower and the Statue of Liberty, changed countries, and now I’m getting a tattoo.”

“Wow. Good for you.” Gemma wrote some more.

“Yeah. Learning to knit is next.”

Gemma coughed and her shoulders shook. “Stop! I can’t write straight if I laugh.”

“Sorry. I’ll be good.”

Girls, boys, she just wished she could figure herself out, and that whoever it was she was meant to be with would walk up to her with a sign on their forehead saying,
me, pick me
. Because if it was left up to her, she’d never get it done right.

The world was too complicated. She was here now though. In the US of A where no one knew her from a bar of soap, and they all seemed to think her accent was cute. She almost laughed out loud. Yeah. Cute. That was her. With her cut-off shorts, black combat boots, and faded t-shirt with an American flag on it. She’d worn it to be ironic. For some reason, t-shirts with the flag
s on them were popular. She figured it was only fair she wore an American one. Cute didn’t come to mind when she looked in the mirror.

A minute after Gemma got up to return the papers to Malachi, Jake finished his sketch.

“How’s this?” He squatted beside her and placed the paper on the table. “One rockin’ phoenix.”

“Hmm.”
The phoenix silhouette seemed lackluster compared to some she’d seen online, but they’d been full color and not just outlines. “If I want to, can I add to it?”

“Sure. How ’bout I
just do the lines and then you can come back for the color another time?”

His quizzical gaze seemed to dare her.

Heart tapping at the challenge, she eyed the picture again. This was why she had come. She wouldn’t let her nerves get the best of her now. Since when was she afraid of pain anyway? She’d always gotten a thrill from challenges, from fear, to some extent.

Jake stared at her, waiting for an answer.

“Um.” The flick of Gemma’s shoulder-length hair distracted her.

Lopsided grin planted on her face, Gemma strode
over. With her hand resting on Izzy’s shoulder, she leaned in. “How’s it going? That’s good. Do you like it?”

Did she? “It’s small and sort of un-dramatic.”

Jake grunted. “You wanted small.”

Had she hurt his feelings? “I didn’t mean it’s bad. Only
...” Nibbling a smidgeon of the inside of her lip, she peered at the drawing and tried to see what they obviously could.

The hand on her shoulder squeezed. That, plus the tang of Gemma’s perfume or shampoo, and the gentle purr of her voice, made it more and more difficult to breathe.

“He’ll live. You can’t imagine it with more detail, Izzy?”

“No. I can’t. We all can’t be tattoo artists.”
She shrugged. “I can’t see it. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Jake, can you draw what the finished product could look like? Something more complex and colorful.”

Jake nodded and went back to the counter.

Cross spoke. “No more sorrys.”

“What?” Was he talking to her?

The man raised his head and stared directly at her. “You’re the customer. It’s a permanent mark on you. No more
sorrys. Don’t get the tattoo until you’re one hundred percent happy with it.” His statement and directness stunned her.

A blush roared through her and she ducked her head, sure it showed like neon crayon on her cheeks.
Even with her suntan leftover from home, her face still turned bright red when she was put on the spot. Her emotions showed easily on her face. She’d make a shit poker player. Izzy shot a brief glare his way before pretending to be fascinated by the folder Jake opened on the table.

“I thought he didn’t work here?” she whispered harshly to no one in particular, hoping Cross couldn’t hear because her whispers had a habit of carrying halfway across the fucking universe.

“He doesn’t.” Gemma flopped into the chair opposite again. “He owns the goth shop next door, though.”

Jake did an odd twitch of his eyebrows toward the other two men. “Godfrey Cross is not a man you want to mess with.” His smirk said there was some secret.

“Why?” Annoyance leaked into her voice.

Damn it though, Cross had the solidity of a bulldog on steroids. Not classic squeaky-clean handsome, but a sort of rugged crash-and-burn handsome. With his buzz-cut black hair, muscles and menagerie of tattoos, the man looked like he lived in a cave
and sanded timber with his head and flung innocent young women down on beds and had his wicked way with them.

Phew. She needed her vibe or a new boyfriend.

“Because...” Jake adjusted his baseball hat. “He eats girls like you for breakfast.”

Though she tried to keep a straight face, the sexual innuendo undid Izzy. She chuckled.

“Is that your customer spiel, Jake?” Gemma admonished.

“It’s okay,” Izzy said. “Besides, that settles it. Flirting with Cross is now on my list.”

“Your what?” Jake looked puzzled.

“Her bucket list of things to do before she dies.” Sucking on her bottom lip she eyed Cross surreptitiously. “Brave girl. Though flirting is too easy. Make it teasing him and you’ve got a bet.”

“A bet?” Oh hell, what had she done?

“Fifty bucks if you follow through.” Amusement sparked in Gemma’s pretty
green eyes.

“You’re
playing with fire,” Jake said, shaking his head. “I’ll watch and pick up the bones after. Or you could flirt with me instead. Much safer.”

Izzy clucked her tongue a few times on the roof of her mouth and challenged Gemma with a stare. The frisson of attraction ran through her again. Fifty was worth it. “You’re on.”

“I can’t pay up ’til after my first paycheck though, after I start getting paid.” Gemma held out her hand. “And don’t get him angry!”

“I’ll try my best.
Angry sounds dangerous and I have a long bucket list. I’m not ready to go yet.” She shook Gemma’s hand. If the bet fizzled, she could flirt with Gemma instead.

“Tattoo!” Jake reminded them, rapping on the book.

“Right.” She studied the phoenix on the page in front of her. “Wow.” The purples, reds, and blues made it look like it might peel off the woman’s skin and fly away with some coaxing.

“Yes, that’s much better,” she murmured

“Good. Finally, we have a winner. Ready for it now?” He closed the book and nodded in an encouraging way as he spoke. Maybe he’d read the book that said people agreed with you if you nodded.

Whatever, it worked.

“Yes. I guess.”

Oh shit. Now she had to really
do
it.

His leering smile might have looked good on Hannibal Lector. “Let’s get you to the tattoo station over there.”

“I’ll be back. I’m running across the street to Kafehaus.” Gemma got up too. “I’m dying of caffeine withdrawal. It’s been a long day and I usually drink it constantly. When I have money, anyway.”

“Oh! Tell the
m Izzy sent you and I bet they’ll give you one on the house.”

“That’s where I’ve seen you!
I knew I recognized you from somewhere.” Jake pointed to the table. “Up you go.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Gemma grabb
ed her satchel. “I’ll be back to check on you in a few.” Izzy watched her leave, distracted from the anxiety by her seductive sway.

Now here she was, sitting up on this padded table, waiting, waiting, and trying to remember to breathe. Though he was no doubt doing everything right, Jake seemed about as purposeful as a snail with ADD. Her ankle was stenciled but he was fiddling with the machinery. Maybe sharpening the needles.

She twirled a strand of her hair around her finger and played with it.

The swing and click of the front glass door caught her attention. Gemma had returned, bearing one of the
green-and-brown paper cups from Kafehaus.

“That for me?” Jake piped up, angling his head as if checking out the steaming cup.

Or maybe he was checking out Gemma? A twinge of jealousy shocked her. It wasn’t as if...or even if she knew Gemma was... Oh hell, it was just lust at first sight. She’d get over it.

Gemma pulled a
grumpy face and held the cup closer to her chest. “Mine. One of the perks of not working here yet. I get to hang around drinking lattes.”

“No worries.” Jake gazed at her with a mischievous smirk. “Malachi will have you fetching drinks for us in no time. Part of being the new guy – er, girl.”

“Uh, no. I signed on as tattoo artist, not errand girl.”

He chuckled. “We’ll see.”
The tattoo machine hummed and he poised it over her ankle. “Ready?”

Izzy held her breath and nodded. Gemma slid into a chair to
her left.

He lowered the needle and it bit.

“Motherfucker,” she murmured.
A fiery warmth dug into her skin.

“It’ll feel duller when you get
used to it.”

“Yeah then get worse again when it goes past two hours,” Gemma added.

Jake tsked. “Now who’s got bad customer etiquette?”

Gemma laughed. “
Touché. But she won’t be here that long so I think we’re okay. And she’s doing well too. Aren’t you?”

“Uh. Sure.”
She gripped the table so hard it hurt her knuckles.

“So
, how long have you been here in the States?”

“Two months. My dad was born here so I claimed dual citizenship.” The needle hit a spot by her bone and zinged up her leg. She grunted and her leg spasm
ed a little.

“Keep still.” Jake paused. “Unless you want a snake with leprosy instead of a phoenix?”

“No. I can keep still.”

“Good.” Gemma patted her thigh.

Don’t look at where her hand is.

A few inches higher and she’d be
there.
The reverberations of the little slaps Gemma did on her skin fizzed upward into groin territory.

“So, you’ve got family over here? Or are you just being adventurous by yourself?” Thank god, Gemma
had moved her hand away.