I huff as he swings one leg over the body of his bike and then pulls a bandana up around his neck, covering his chin. Okay, that’s hot. I’ve seen him wearing it higher over his mouth when he rides, but up close and personal… okay, that shouldn’t be doing things to me.
This is my fucking friend. I refuse to be attracted to him because he’s the only male I truly trust. I don’t want to jeopardize a friendship by sleeping with him and ruining what we have; which is what will inadvertently happen if we let it.
“You gonna get on or just gape at me all night?”
Just to prove he’s wrong and I’m right, I start to shimmy my skirt up my legs and his eyes dip. He scratches his chin, then palms the back of his neck as the material slowly rises.
“See?” I do a twirl and he laughs.
“Put this on.” He hands me a helmet and I frown.
“C’mere.” I move toward him and he pulls the helmet down slowly, fixing the strap so it’s tight and won’t go anywhere.
“You really are some kind of saint,” I sigh.
He smirks. “Nah, I’m pretty sure they kicked me outta heaven for misbehavin’.”
“Of that I have no doubt.” Moving behind him, I swing my leg over, and at the same time my dress gives way and the ripping sound rings in the air.
His shoulders shake. “Told ya.”
I whack him on the shoulder. “You were just dying to be right for once, weren’t you?”
“Come on, I’m gonna take you to get a burger, then you’re gonna burn that dress and never wear it again.”
My heart hitches in my chest as I settle in behind him, my coochie practically on display because my dress is now rucked up around my hips. “Hey, this is my go-to dress which cost a lot of money, and I can still fix it. ”
He turns to the side, patting me on the thigh. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh?”
His voice is husky when he says, “If this dress doesn’t exist, it’ll be better for everyone concerned.” With that, he starts the engine as it roars to life, deafening any reply I have on my tongue as I wrap my arms around his waist.
This man really will be the death of me in more ways than one.
3
BRONCO
Present day
“So,you think you can cover it?” the pretty girl named Cara asks as I try not to crack a smile.
I’m a professional, but having a Butthead tattooed on your body without Beavis is a crime in itself. I’m kinda known as the cover up guy in the ink slinging world. Truth be told, I didn’t plan on being the cover up guy, it just sorta worked out that way.
“You like the design, right?” I check, just to be sure. I know she’s nervous and she has good reason to be after her last tattoo disaster, but I’m not some amateur.
She bites on her lip. “I love it, I just don’t want it messed up again.”
I sigh inwardly. I get it. Cara’s been duped before. Then again, she did admit that she got drunk in Vegas and went to a cheap tattoo shop; the end result was the shittiest tattoo I’ve probably ever seen. Covering it up will be a challenge, but I’m always up for something that will push my limits.
She chose a red rose design with intertwining stems, intricate detailing and a golden dragon raging through the center.Apparently, there’s a fantasy book out that has taken the world by storm and this chick wants to commemorate it on her skin. I’ve no idea what the fuckFourth Wingis, but she’s the client, not me, and if that’s what she wants, I’m going to give it to her.
“I promise I’m not gonna mess it up. You’ve seen my work and the reviews on my website,” I reassure her. “But you can think about it if you need a little more time. I want you to feel one hundred percent sure before you do anything, okay?”
She shakes her head. “I’m ready. I just want this gone.” Her plea has me feeling sympathy for her.
I mean, this ain’t pretty. “Just promise me you won’t go gettin’ anymore late night, drunken tatts anywhere, got me?”