Page 59 of Twisted Mates

He shrugs. “I may have paid my artists double what they would have made tonight to reschedule their evening appointments so we could have the place to ourselves. That way their clients can get a discount for the inconvenience.”

I gape at him. “You did what? When?”

“Before we left Mount Selene. I remember you said you wanted another tattoo. I sent out a group text. I didn’t want anyone else in the studio while I inked your skin for the first time.”

Trying to contain myself because I want nothing more than to jump him right now, I coolly say, “But it’s not my first time.”

He lays his hand on the brick behind me and traps me between the building and his body. Invading my space in the most perfect way, he says, “It’s the first time you’re getting inked bymyneedle, little wolf. Marked byme.”

Fuck, I'm so done for.“Oh. And just how did you know I’d want to get one tonight?”

He runs his fingertips along my collarbone, making me shiver. “I took a chance and hoped it would pay off.”

“Well, I’d say it did.”

“Do you know what you want to get?”

“Not a clue. Would you pick for me?”

The way he lights up tells me that I’ve put that decision in the right hands.

EIGHTEEN

Xander

While I prep my station, Alexia flips through my leather-bound portfolio I keep in the shop. I glance up at her whenever she makes a little approving sound. It stirs something euphoric inside of me to know she approves of my art. My mother was the only other person I cared about who encouraged me to follow my passions. Something tells me that her and Alexia’s souls are a lot alike.

I fill several ink caps with bright colors, ones that will show nicely against Alexia’s complexion. I normally don’t deal with colors, but for her, I want to do something different. She will walk around with a piece of me on her skin. Every time she catches a glimpse of the art, I want her to think of this time we’ve had together.

The last thing I wanted to do was return home when I got word of Alexia’s cleansing. I’d attended two others and not had a glance spared my way. I knew she wouldn’t be drawn to me. It’s almost unheard of for a shifter in their late thirties to find a mate. The fact that I was meant to never find the other half ofmy soul was a truth I accepted a long time ago. Still, something nagged at me to go.

The plan was to spend a couple of nights with my siblings and return home. Subjecting myself to my stepfather for any period of time was a special kind of torture I’d rather forego. It was only when I realized what Clayton intended to do that I decided to stay. And fuck, she made it easy. If she wanted me to, I’d stay until my final breath.

It’s an asinine thought—that I would flip my world upside down for my brother’s mate. She isn’t even destined to be mine. But I will take every moment I can with her. I want to say I belong to her, even if it’s only for a short while.

I don’t even have to look up to know she’s near when she says, “Are you almost finished setting up? I’m getting a little nervous over here, thinking maybe I might chicken out. My little butterfly only took like fifteen minutes. This is going to be different. It’s going to hurt.”

I laugh and wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her against me. Her chest presses into mine as I say, “That’s not an option, Alexia. You’re getting tattooed tonight.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really. No one else iseverputting a needle into this gorgeous, perfect skin, so if you want another tattoo... tonight’s the night.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” she says.

I lean in and capture her lips in a kiss. “In all seriousness, if you aren’t sure, we don’t have to?—”

She shakes her head and shushes me with a finger over my lips. “No, I’m excited to see what you’ve chosen for me.”

“All right, let’s go then,” I say, tilting my chin toward the leather reclined chair. I smack her ass to urge her in that direction. “Shirt off and arm on the rest with the inside of your forearm up.”

Like the obedient little thing she is, Alexia takes my chair shirtless, and I realize this is going to be really fucking difficult, focusing on what I’m doing when the view right in front of me is so damn good. I roll my chair and tray next to her and grab my marker. She watches intently as I draw blue swoops and lines on her skin. The crinkle between her eyes tells me she’s confused by my madness. Of course she doesn’t see what I do when I look at the design.

“Trust the process,” I say. “I’m going to freehand this.”

“No stencil?”

“No stencil.”

---