Permanent (Indelibly Marked) (Volume 1) (17 page)

He took hold of her chin. “Don’t stop.”

Without question she followed his command and joined their lips together. A rush of warmth, need and fear flooded her. Not sure what to do next, she held on to him, loving how he tightened his arms around her and took over.

He stroked his long artist’s fingers down her neck and brushed his lips against hers then continued his artwork by slowly opening his mouth. With her eyes tightly shut, she actually saw a swirl of vivid colors when he finally caressed his tongue along hers. She balled his shirt in her fist.

His taste was incredible and unexpectedly delicious. Whenever his tongue left hers, she searched him out, trying to satiate her hunger.

Shane moaned and lifted his knees drawing her to him, deepening his kiss and adding more details and depth to his masterpiece.

Every place he touched became sensitized and she trembled, unsure if she was boiling over or freezing cold. She wanted to be Shane’s artistic muse. She never expected kissing to be so grand, and though she didn’t want to stop, her chest tightened and she pushed back. “Shane.”

His lips touched hers when she spoke.

He closed the small distance between them and kissed her again, this time with his hand on her breast.

His thumb traveled across the mound and when he came in contact with her hard peak, she jumped. “Oh.”

“Yes, baby.” He moved his mouth down to her neck and pushed her down harder into his lap.

She arched her back and bit her lip as he expertly kneaded her breast, and the obvious evidence of his arousal rose beneath her. “Oh God.”

“Linds.” He continued to create a need in her that only he could satiate. “It’s okay, baby.” Then out of nowhere, he ended the magic with a light kiss on the lips. He hugged her and pressed her head underneath his chin. “It’s okay.”

She listened to his heart beat under her ear and held on tight. If he kept going, she’d have never stopped him. She would have done anything, and when he realized he didn’t want her, he would fade like the colors he created on people’s skin. She wanted him, but she couldn’t allow it. One day he would find out who she really was and leave. It was the pattern she couldn’t allow herself to repeat. The only entry she could add to her ledger was she’d made a huge mistake.

Chapter Thirteen

“I’m going to puke.” Ivan leaned over Shane and heaved.

“I had enough of that last night.” Shane chuckled and resumed his drawing.

“Oh yeah, my party. Did you have a good time?” Ivan strummed his fingers on the table.

“I had a great time.” He dropped his marker and slammed his hand down on top of Ivan’s.

“Do you know that’s the first birthday of mine you’ve missed in fifteen years?”

“Trust me when I tell you it was for a good cause.” He resumed his drawing and smiled at the memory of Lindsay in his lap while they kissed. He loved that she made the first move. He loved her innocence, like it was all new to her. That morning when he drove her to work and kissed her goodbye, she blushed. He shifted in his seat. Every time he thought about it, his lower half seemed to take on a life of its own.

Ivan snatched the pen from his hand and grabbed the paper. “What the hell is this?”

“A tattoo.” Shane took it back.

“That is a heart.” Ivan pointed at it like it was poison. “The last time you voluntarily drew a heart, it was because Hugh said if you did, he’d tattoo it on his ass.”

He grinned. “It looks great there. I love the doves and ribbons I added.”

“What’s this one for?” Ivan tapped him.

“Inspiration.”

Ivan grabbed Shane’s t-shirt and got in his face. “Did you do her last night?”

“What?” He put his hand to his chest. “What kind of man do you take me for?”

Ivan narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t think Lindsay’s that kind of girl, but we had some awesome lip locks.”

Ivan loosened his grip. “So you guys talked?”

Shane nodded. “We surely did.”

“And she accepted your invite.”

“Yep.”

“What did she say?”

Wanting to tell Ivan every detail, he looked up at his ceiling and tapped his fingertips against his chin trying to remember her exact words. “She wanted to call me.” He shut his eyes. “We talked.”

“She wanted to call you to say yes?”

“She didn’t exactly say anything about that.”

“You said you talked.”

“Shut up.” His heart sped up and he thrust up from his chair. “It was implied.”

Ivan crossed his arms. “Implied?”

The euphoria wore off like a pain pill and a dull ache began.

“After she told you she needed to think about it and made you wait three days, she
implied
she wanted to go out with you.”

He ground his teeth. She never said anything about the date. Upon further reflection, maybe her little blushes and shyness was actually her attempt to make a clean get away. He looked up to the ceiling and held his arms out.

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting for the ton of bricks to fall on me.”

Ivan stood and watched the ceiling too. “Maybe with the kissing and the throwing up, she forgot to actually say it.”

Shane shook his head. “Lindsay doesn’t forget where she put a paperclip.”

“She was sick.”

“No.” He let out a sad laugh. “You know you were right. Mainstream girls think we’re jokes.” He exhaled. “Or practice.”

“Come on man, you’ve kissed plenty of girls.” Ivan slapped him on the back, his way of suggesting Shane give up.

“If I wanted that I could have had it the first night I met her.” He dug his phone from his pocket. There had been no word from Lindsay all day.

“I thought she lost her phone.”

“Maybe she conveniently found it.”

“Don’t test her.” Ivan shook his head in warning.

“I think a test is exactly what she needs.” He called, willing the phone to go right to voice mail. If it did, he would point blank ask her when she arrived to work on the books. If she answered.

“Hi there.” Her voice sounded shaky.

He clenched his fist as he asked the next question, wanting to see what lie she came up with. Lindsay didn’t lose phones, what a pathetic excuse. “You found your phone?”

Ivan walked away.

“It was in my drawer at work.”

“What time will you be here tonight?”

“Normal time, unless something comes up.”

She’d cracked a window of opportunity to not show. He knew that game. “Yeah, well accounting is unpredictable.”

“It’s not supposed to be.”

“Well, is there anything else?” He kicked the floor as he kicked himself for practically begging.

“Oh yeah.”

He straightened when her voice became animated for the first time.

“I reconciled this month’s books.”

She reconciled this month’s books? “That’s great.” In the background he heard a ruckus. “Lindsay?”

“I have to go, I’ll see you later.”

Before he said goodbye, the call ended.

“Happy now?” Ivan returned.

“I’m thrilled.” As the words exited his mouth a text message came through. No doubt Lindsay realized the error in her ways. “Hold on.”

“Who is it?”

“Time to heed my best friend’s words.” No, not Lindsay, but a sign. He typed back. “Angie needs her tattoo touched up. I think I can squeeze her in tonight and then I’ll make sure it heals quickly.” He pushed send and tossed his phone on the table. As he walked away he caught sight of the picture. “Do you want me to tattoo this on your ass?”

Ivan shook his head, but held his hand out. “Let me have it.”

“It’s garbage.” He crumpled it up, threw it at the wall and walked out of the shop.

*~*~*

Lindsay hung up the phone and stared at giraffe picture on her office wall. She loved that drawing. Shane made it just for her.

Shane.

“I just told him I reconciled his books.” Everything was a mess and she was the starring actress of her own play of horrors. An actress, the word described her perfectly, and she lowered her head to her desk when her stomach gurgled.

Long before moving to California she’d planned, plotted, and mapped what she wanted, From day one, everything went awry. Especially the kiss. “Oh my God.”

“You have a visitor.” Rick stuck his head inside her office.

“What?” Her heart twisted. Had Shane come? Impossible.

“A much more normal visitor than your last one.” He pretended he was pointing a gun at her.

Disappointment settled in her chest like a stack of Shane’s paperwork. “Who is it?”

“The black sheep.” Dillon slid past Rick into her office.

Wrong brother. Lindsay pressed her fingers to her temple.

“Thanks.” Dillon nodded at Rick and waited until he left. He pretended to shoot a gun at Rick.

She forced a smile. Even as Dillon sat in front of her, her mind focused on Shane.

“You’re probably wondering what brings me here.”

Actually, she was questioning what she felt beneath her when she sat on Shane’s lap. Was the reaction for her or was it something that happened with any girl?

Dillon waved his hand in front of her face.

She blinked, attempting to focus. “Yes.”

“I have a question for you.”

“Okay.”

“I have a work event tonight at a huge mansion, and the thought of going alone is horrible. Would you like to come along? You may find some potential business.”

“You mean you need a ride.”

“My entire office is on the way over there, I could get a ride from anyone.” He tilted his head.

“I’m not sure.” She stared down at her desk.

“I’ll give you a minute to think about it.” He lifted his wrist to his face and grinned.

Lindsay weighed her options. She could go to the shop and tell Shane she wouldn’t go on a date with him, or she could join Dillon at his work event. Neither sounded good and she wanted to crawl into a cave.

“You seem like you need some distraction.” He stood. “This will be a really classy cocktail event, exactly what someone like you needs.”

“Someone like me?” His words caught her attention. A smile crossed his face, gorgeous but less playful and mischievous than his brother’s. Shane always smiled like he got caught doing something naughty. It would be easy to become lost in Shane’s smile and in his world, stay for as long as they allowed her.

“You’re a young up-and-coming professional.” He stepped around her desk and took her arm.

Yes, a young up-and-coming professional, exactly what she wanted. Dillon understood.

“It’s time to get to know a few different crowds in Los Angeles.”

The ledger opened. Going to the shop to talk to Shane, ending up in the red. The other, going with Dillon and getting a peek into the world she wanted, looked like a winning investment. “All right.”

“Great.” He gave her arm a squeeze. “Can you leave now?”

“Sure.”

Dillon raised his eyes. “Looks like my baby brother did some decorating in here.”

She swallowed and glanced over her shoulder at the pictures. Shane would most likely never give her another one. “Yeah.”

“You don’t want it to look like a tattoo parlor in here with all the flair.”

“Flash.” The word rolled right of her tongue. “It’s called flash.”

“Whatever, it’s just garbage he got from a book.”

“No.” She paused. “Shane doesn’t do that much flash. He does mostly custom work. Most of the guys do flash, but Shane tells customers if they are marking their body for life it should be with something unique.” She stopped, before she rattled on and on.

“The ink over there is getting to your brain.” He put his hand on the small of her back. “Well, maybe this week we’ll go down to an art gallery and get you something more to your tastes.”

“Shane’s pictures are my taste.”

Dillon chuckled. “Whatever.”

She let Shane’s brother lead her out of her office. Unlike when Shane and Ivan came to get her, the stares weren’t of shock or disbelief. Dillon netted appreciative nods. One of the other female accountants actually winked at her, confirming she’d made the correct decision. If that was the case, why did it feel like she’d betrayed Shane?

Chapter Fourteen

Standing in the main foyer of a multi-million dollar mansion in the heart of Beverly Hills was something everyone should do at least once. Designed to be grand, the beautiful room lived up to expectation. The light from the enormous crystal chandelier sparkled off the peach marble floors and walls, giving the space a warm glow while still maintaining its auspicious air.

The event matched the house to perfection. A caterer set up a station of rare cheeses and the accouterments, and servers in white and black uniforms glided through the area carrying trays of wine filled glasses.

“This house is up for sale.” Dillon took her forearm and guided her to the food. “Our firm has the listing and we’re holding this shindig for a select group of realtors.” He waved to someone.

“I thought you sold commercial real estate.”

“Right now I have to do whatever they want.” He handed her a plate. “I’m sort of stuck.”

“I understand.” In fact, she never understood anything more.

With Dillon there was a level of connection. She took a moment to study him, wondering if he understood her as well. He personified the type of man she pictured herself with, at least the self who arrived in California. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” He waved down a waiter and took two glasses.

“Do you ever feel like everything is out of balance? Like nothing you planned is working?”

He held a glass to her. “No.”

She didn’t want wine, but let him put the glass in her hand.

He took a sip and gave her a wink.

“Never?” She glanced down at the golden liquid in her glass and then back up at Dillon. “Not even when you sell something?”

He rubbed his chin and shook his head. “Do you prefer a different wine?”

Actually, she wanted a beer. A tall cold one, followed by another one. Not wanting him to go on about the wine she took a sip and fought grimacing when the sour liquid made its way over her tongue to join the sick sensation in her stomach.