All In (4 page)

“Spend the day with me,” I placed my forehead on hers. “In the four years we have gotten to know each other, we have never hung out,”

“I would like that, truthfully,” she smiled.

“Good, let me just finish cleaning up,” I quickly started to clean my station, I had never been so excited in my whole damn life.

“Okay,” she sat back on the table and watched me intently. I could feel her blue eyes on me, watching every move I made. It made me smile, and made my stomach in knots. Harlow made me nervous, in a good way. I had never felt this way before, about anyone. I finished cleaning my station and we headed toward the door of the shop. She grabbed my hand.

“Do you know who you remind me of?” she laughed.

I stopped to look at her. “Who?” Please, for the love of God. Do not say it…

“A sexy tattooist named Vice Jackson,” she winked.

“I’ve heard that somewhere before,” I played along. I knew she wanted so badly to say Channing Tatum, but she just knew I hated it.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I smiled. She is just different.

~

We decided to stop and have lunch at a little soup and salad place next to Mad Tatter. It was mesmerizing to look at her in different lighting, in an entirely different setting. She was beautiful. The way the sun lit up her face, and the way she placed the fork in her mouth... She was gorgeous.

“So you play poker?” she smiled, taking another bite of salad. “I had no idea that you were so talented Mr. Jackson,”

I laughed. Poker wasn't something I really talked about with Harlow. Well, with anyone other than Skip and the guys. I like Harlow, always have and the last thing I wanted was for there to be a reason other than myself for her to like me back.

“Yeah, neither did I until Skip talked me into going to a casino for the first time a few years ago.” I took a drink of my iced tea. “My first game of poker, I didn’t know what I was really doing but still whooped the guys ass for ten grand. I sort of became addicted. Well, I guess you could say it is more of a hobby than an addiction,”

“Gotcha’. So, you play in tournaments and stuff?” she was interested, her eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I just played at the Bellagio Saturday night, and since I won that one, I am going to the Mirage tourney next weekend. Should be interesting to say the least,” I raised my brows.

“Why interesting?” she took another bite of her salad.

“Honestly, I don’t like to talk shit about anybody, but… the owner of Nostalgia Casino won’t leave me the hell alone. I refuse all of his tourney invites, so he entered into the Bellagio tourney and I whooped his ass. Took him for fifty six thousand dollars. He was so pissed. He confronted me outside the casino and asked me to play in the tourney at his casino this week. But again, I turned him down,” I shrugged. “He entered into the tourney at the Mirage, too. I mean, I don’t quite understand what it is he has against me,”

Harlow swallowed hard, staring at me with absolutely zero expression on her face. “Why won’t you play at Nostalgia?” she managed to ask.

“I just don’t want to get involved with someone like him. He runs drugs, whores, and I just despise everything that Chase Miller is about,” Period.

“I am sure not all of them are whores, Vice,” she laughed, crossing her legs. She brought the napkin to her face, gently wiping the corners of her delectable lips.

“Probably not… but considering all I do is try to stay out of trouble. I would rather not get involved,” I grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Totally understandable,” she nodded, her lips pursed. “And I doubt he has anything against you. Word of mouth is he loves a good challenge,” she winked.

She did have a good point. “You’re right,” I nodded. “I never thought about it that way. It’s just a challenge,” Personally, I always thought he had it out for me as if it were a personal vendetta. Maybe I would really think about a possible tourney at Nostalgia to get him off my ass. Just not any time soon.

We finished lunch and headed out to my black, 55' Camaro SS. I opened the door for her, she kissed my cheek before hopping inside. I quickly ran to the drivers side and slid in.

“I have always wanted to ride in this thing,” she bounced up and down in the seat excitedly with a huge grin upon her face.

I've always wanted to ride you... I thought to myself, getting utterly turned on, watching her tits bounce with her. I started the engine.

“Ooh, and she purrs,” she groaned, running her fingertips along the dashboard. I laughed aloud, leaning over and kissing her on the temple. She looked like a child in a candy shop.

“You like cars?” I took off from the curbside. Cars weren't something that Harlow ever talked about. I guess we both have a hidden passion- Harlow's passion being cars while mine is poker.

“Love them,” her cheeks went red, she quickly stared out the window. “I always wanted to rebuild a car to donate to a needy family. Cars are hard to come by when you don't have a lot. Everyone deserves something nice, ya' know?”

“I do,” I nodded, taking a glance at her. She was the most beautiful person, with the kindest heart. How I got lucky enough to have this girl like me back? I couldn't tell you.

“But, my mom and brother always told me it was a grease monkey's job to work on cars,” she huffed. “Little did they know that I helped one of my best friend's rebuild his trans am,” she gave me a quick smile.

“Had I known that, I would have asked you to help me with this one,” This car would mean more to me if she had helped me rebuild it. I would have a piece of her everyday instead of once every three months.

“Where to?” she asked, the wind blowing her hair around her face as she smiled at me. I reached over tucking her hair behind her ear, then letting my hand rest on her thigh.

“Let’s go to your flower shop,” I offered. “You can show me what you do everyday,” she comes into my work every three months, it would only be fair.

“Ah, let’s not. This is my first day off in weeks. I would rather stay away,” she reached over, placing her hand on my thigh, squeezing lightly. “Show me where you live,”

My body tensed up, and my breath hitched in my throat. It was a normal reaction when chicks asked me to show them where I live. Though, this time my reaction was out of shock. I didn't think Harlow cared to see where I lived.

“Yeah, okay,” I agreed.

We pulled into the parking lot of my complex, I parked in front of my building and shut the engine off. Parked next to us was Skip's Chevelle and Vinny's brand new Mustang. I sighed aloud.

“What is it?” she asked with concern in her voice. “You don't have to bring me here if you would rather not, it's okay,” she placed her hand on my arm in understanding.

“Oh, no Harlow. It's not that,” I reassured her. “We have a few friends over, is that cool?” She knew Skip and I shared a place.

“Yeah! Of course,” she nodded.

We headed up the stairs to my front door and walked in. I could hear the guys yelling at the flat screen.

“Dude, fuck you! Get his ass!” Rang through the entry way making Harlow smile.

“Video games, the death of woman,” she slowly shook her head from side to side.

“They aren’t that bad,” I laughed at her reaction. “Wanna play?”

“No thanks, I’ll pass,” Harlow placed her hand on my back giving it a gentle pat as we walked through the entry way, passed the kitchen and into the living room.

“What’s going on guys?” I sighed, flopping down into my tan leather chair, pulling Harlow down with me. She landed on my lap with a shriek.

The guys looked ridiculous. Seeing tatted up men with gauges in their ears playing football was a sight to see. When I said that Skip looked like James Dean, it was no lie. He wore his medium length dark brown hair neatly brushed. His straight legged, dark blue jeans rolled up with his pressed white t-shirts, and newly polished black boots. Chode and Vinny, they were just dressed in ripped up jeans, t-shirts, and Chuck Taylors. However, watching them play football, was a sight to see.

All three of them turned their heads in my direction in sync, just staring at Harlow smiling on my lap.

“Is that who I think it is, Vice?” Skip asked, still staring at Harlow. “And on your fucking lap?”

“She is right here you know, Skip,” I flipped him off.

“Dude, you’re such a dick,” Chode smacked Skip on the back of the head. “Have some respect in front of the lady,” he winked at Harlow making her cheeks turn red.

“Excuse me for being such a dick,” he said making Harlow laugh. “How goes it, Harlow Jean?” he smiled.

“Hello, Skip,” she was still laughing. “It’s okay, you’re forgiven,”

“Thanks,” he had a goofy smile on his face.

“I’m going to go take a quick shower. Are you okay with the guys out here for a few minutes? I promise, they are harmless,” The last thing I wanted was for Harlow to find out I had prematurely ejaculated in my boxer briefs.

I watched her eye them. “Absolutely, we are good,”

To my surprise, she placed a quick kiss on my forehead before hopping off of my lap and taking a seat next to Skip on the couch watching their game. I didn't think that she would feel uncomfortable as she knows Skip, Vinny, and Chode, too. At least two out of the three guys are usually at the shop when she comes in for her sessions.

I stared at Harlow for a brief second. I knew I have had a crush on her for the last couple of years. But what scares the shit out of me is what I was beginning to feel after this morning. My feelings for her have grown immensely. What the fuck am I going to do?

Chapter Two

Harlow

I watched Vice’s retreating back down the hallway and a rush of guilt coursed through my veins finally reaching my lungs as if it were smothering me. My palms were sweating and my heart was racing.

My intentions for walking into Mad Tatter four years ago, wasn’t the same as my intentions now. Four months ago at my last tat session with Vice, I swore to myself I was going to stay away from him for all the right reasons, and a lot of good that did me. I was able to stretch the usual three months into four, but then I caved and had to make the appointment to see him again. Vice was special. That much I did know. I was shocked with his response to my actions earlier as he had never made a pass at me in the four years that I have known him. I never intended to crush on Vice knowing I was there to do my job. My job as Chase Millers little sister, and to find out personal things about Vice. I meant what I told Vice earlier that I was sure all Chase wanted was a challenge, and that is true. Although, the more Vice skips out on his tourney invites, the more my brother will seek him out.

When I first went into Mad Tatter, Chase had told me that on Sundays, it was by appointment only and that he had his buddy David in there that Sunday morning getting a dragon piece on his back done. He sent me in there to play stupid like they were open and apparently I did a pretty good job as Vice couldn’t take his eyes off of me, my tits, or my legs as I waited patiently on the black leather couch by the front door and he agreed to start working on my skin that afternoon. It being the first tattoo I had ever gotten, I was scared shitless as I waited for my turn. About an hour later, I had realized I had spent that entire time watching Vice tattoo my brothers friend. His face was calm and gentle and for some reason that I couldn't understand, I trusted him.

As session after session went by, he grew on me. He is incredibly sexy with his muscular body, tattoos covering his arms, shoulders, down his back, and God only knows else where. His black messy hair, and his outrageously gorgeous brown eyes. He looks just like Channing Tatum, although with a ton more tats and brown eyes of course. I knew he hated it when girls said that, so I had heard, and I had to mess with him just a little bit. The closer we became, I wanted to tell Vice about Chase Miller being my brother, but the chances Chase would find out I told him were high, and I couldn't take the chance. He would kick me out of his house without a second thought in which would leave me homeless on the streets of Vegas. Chase paid me decent, but not decent enough to live on my own in the City of Sin. Chase was a selfish bastard that kept all of the money for himself and his desires when at least a quarter of the income that Nostalgia brought in should be mine. I had thought about asking my father for money as he is a top notch lawyer in Malibu, but I don't want anything from him, I would rather do it on my own.

Earlier today when I ridiculously lost control of myself at the shop, I was thoroughly embarrassed. I had wanted his hands between my legs since the first day he touched my skin. He has a gentle tenderness about his touch that is extremely sexy and is a huge turn on. His hand on my thigh this morning along with the vibration of his tat gun, it sent me over the edge and I could no longer take it anymore. I wanted to feel his touch without the gloves.

“You two were looking awfully cozy,” Skip commented, still staring at the flat screen from next to me. “That's different,”

“I like him, Skip,” I said honestly. “I always have, you know that,”

“Have you told him, yet?” his crystal blue eyes immediately met mine. It felt as though he was staring into my soul searching for something.

“No, and do not say a word. I will tell him when the time is right. Please,” I begged. “He loathes my brother and I highly doubt that he would want anything to do with me if he were to find out I was related to such a shit bag of a person. It would crush him,”

“I’m not agreeing to not saying anything to help you out, but I will do it because I know Vice likes you… a lot, Harlow,” he sighed. “Do not fuck with him, please,”

“I have no intentions to hurt him, Skip. Swear to God. Just please, do not tell him,” I placed my hand on his arm for a second letting him know that I was serious about Vice.

“I won’t,” he shook his head. “Touchdown fuckers! Ha!” he laughed aloud.

Skip knows about Chase being my brother as he comes into Nostalgia every other weekend or so. He has seen me in my pin-up girl ensemble and attempted to hit on me for several nights until I gave in one night and whispered to him that it was me, Harlow Jean. He about shit his pants, ranting about how he couldn’t believe that the 'sweet Harlow Jean' was dancing on him and how Vice was going to freak out or whatever. I begged him not to say anything to Vice, he had promised me then that he wouldn’t. But then, Vice and I weren’t even talking outside of my tat sessions.