Page 8 of Bad Boy in Her Bed

“Some guys find it hot when a woman takes charge.”

“Really,” she murmured, drawing his attention to her mouth when her lips wrapped around the bar.Swallowing, she licked her lips and cocked a brow.“And are you one of those guys?”

Chapter Four

Jocelyn replaced thelid on her half-eaten lasagna and slid it into the bag with the rest of the extra food, keeping her movements quiet to avoid breaking Birch’s concentration.

His eyes were narrowed and focused with laser precision on a sketchpad while a woman she vaguely recognized sat tight to Birch.The brunette was around her own age, petite and delicate and inching closer and closer to Birch, her attention divided between him and the drawing he was altering for her.

With the exception of a few quick smiles her way, he’d ignored her for the most part, all business the moment his client walked through the door.

It was an interesting peek into his personality.

Birch was nothing like the men she typically dated, their tailored suits and custom cufflinks a far cry from his faded jeans and department store t-shirt.Her former lovers were all cut from the same high-end cloth, woven with silk thread and made sleek with a dash of snake oil.They were confident and bold, their eyes on the prize and their tongues dipped in silver.

She doubted Birch would taste anywhere near as metallic and bloodthirsty as they did.

For her part, she struggled not to feel like a voyeur while the two discussed where the tattoo would be placed when she came in next week.Holding a copy of the completed art up, Birch went over the pros and cons of each location while the woman exposed her skin bit by bit, insisting he smooth the paper against her skin so she could get a better idea of the finished result.When she was satisfied with her choice, he scheduled her in for two sessions, gave her a rundown of what to expect, and walked her outside, standing in the doorway and waiting to ensure she got to her car.

Locking up, he ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the time.“Sorry about that.First-timers sometimes go over their hour.”

She passed him what was left of his dinner as he walked back to his desk.“Don’t apologize for being thorough,” she chastised, opening her purse and taking out her lipstick.“Are you always this professional or were you on your best behavior because you had an audience?”

He examined his wilting salad and tossed it in the trash.“I was totally trying to impress you.”Grabbing his keys from the top of the filing cabinet, he stood.“You want to head out somewhere for a bit or are you ready to call it a day?”

“You run a decent business,” she said slowly, slipping her heels on.“But you’re letting sale opportunities slip through your fingers.”Extending her arms, she turned slowly on the spot.“If I was to ask for a tattoo, where would you recommend that I put it?”

He didn’t move for a moment, his eyes traveling down her body before he cleared his throat.“Well, uh, I guess it depends on how big a piece you’d be looking at.”

“This big,” she replied, touching her thumb to her pointer finger, studying his eyes as they flickered between hunger and uncertainty.Walking past him to the full-length mirror at the back of the shop, she stopped and waited, using the reflection to track his gaze as it moved over her.When he stayed at his desk, keys still tight in hand, she smiled.“Birch.Sell me on the idea of a tattoo.”

Nodding, he set his keys down and strode over to her, his eyes darkening.“If you came to me looking for recommendations, the most obvious place would be here,” he said, pressing his fingers to her upper arm with an almost clinical detachment.“And I’d show you pieces that weren’t linear.Ones we could adapt to show off your muscle tone.”

Pretending to contemplate his suggestion, she shook her head.“Too common.”

“Alright.That eliminates my next suggestion, too.”He ghosted his fingertips over her left shoulder blade.“Not ideal for a first-timer because of the pain factor, but good for hiding at work and easy to show off in that jogging tank you had on this morning.”

Reaching back, she eased his other hand up along her ribcage and held it below her collarbone.“Is this a popular site?”

He took a deep breath as he lowered his forehead to the back of her head for a moment.“Very.”Trailing his thumb between her breasts, he stopped at her sternum.“With the right design, one here would be insanely hot.”

His free hand gripped her hip and her breathed hitched.“There?”

“Not my favorite, but you could pull it off.”

Turning her head into the crook of his neck she arched her back, pressing her ass against his hard length.“Show me your favorite.”

He took a step back and she almost whimpered at the loss of his heat until she felt his hand slide up the back of her shirt, pausing at the base of her neck.“Right here,” he murmured in her ear, and she closed her eyes, his gravelly voice sending shivers through her.“A simple black ink design starting here.”His fingers grazed along her spine at an agonizing pace, slipping under the band of her thong to rest on her tailbone.“And ending here.”

She bit her lip and opened her eyes, meeting his in the mirror.Then she walked past him without looking back.“I’m a visual learner.You’re going to need to show me to convince me.”

“Jocelyn, I—”

His next words died on his tongue as she closed the blinds on the door and turned, pulling her shirt off.“You have a pen and you need to use it to sell me your skill.”When his eyes drifted to her chest, she put her hands on her hips and smirked.“Mark me, Birch Baker.And remember to be professional.”

*

Birch had stoodat the crossroads of many decisions over the course of his life.He’d taken dozens of calculated risks, accepted the consequences, and taken his beatings to ensure he survived long enough to see his brothers make it out.

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