Page 6 of Dagger

I wasn’t too tough to admit that seeing a customer so giddy after spending a few hours in my chair had my chest swelling with pride.

Matt listened carefully to the aftercare instructions and left me a big tip, which I appreciated even though my mind was no longer on his tattoo. It was on the soft, curvy brunette that I was finally about to meet.

A quick glance at the clock said I had fifteen minutes until I was scheduled to meet with Sinclair, so I gave myself ten minutes to get my shit together. This meeting wasn’t about us, because as far as she knew there was no us, it was about Dani and whatever she’d seen that caused her to grow concerned about my daughter.

“Gotta head out,” I told Falcon, who was doing better since he’d been shot. “Meetin’ with Dani’s teacher.”

“She hot?” he asked curiously.

I shrugged off the question. “Don’t know,” I lied easily, while I tidied up my station. “Let me know if anything happens.”

“Got a few nipple piercings today,” he said with a grin.

“Asshole.”

“Tell Dani, Uncle Falcon says hey.”

I left Steel City Ink just as Minx entered. She handled piercings and she didn’t take no shit. “You’re leaving already?”

“Yeah. Meeting with Dani’s teacher.”

Minx stopped. “Is she okay?”

“Hope so. See you later. And be sure to keep Falcon in check.”

“Happily,” she said before we parted ways.

***

Dani hadn’t said much about school other than to rave about Miss Bronson, and I hadn’t asked, which I now regretted. School had only been in session for a few weeks, so what could this meeting be about?

Callie had already picked Dani up from school, and the lot was mostly empty, so I parked my bike right beside Sinclair’s green car and went inside the building.

“Oh, um, excuse me, sir. Can I help you?” A short woman with a kind smile and worried eyes hurried ahead of me and stopped.

I could’ve been an asshole, but she was worried about the teachers and the few students still inside the building and I knew I probably looked like trouble, with my long hair, tattoos, and leather vest. “I have a meeting with Miss Bronson about my daughter, Dani Kane.”

Her eyes lit up. “Dani is such a sweetheart. Quiet, but bright and sweet. Do you know where Miss Bronson’s classroom is?”

“I’m right here, Mrs. Winters. I can show Mr. Kane the way.” She flashed a gorgeous smile at the older woman before turning her gaze to me. “Right this way.”

My feet refused to move because she was even prettier up close. I could see there were more honey strands in her brown hair that made it seem like a light shone around her head. Her curves were more visible, highlighting the hourglass shape she seemed to work hard to hide.

“Mr. Kane?”

I blinked and offered up a smile. “Yeah. Right. Sorry.”

“No worries.” She nodded for me to follow, and I caught up to her easily given that I was close to a foot taller. “Right this way.” She motioned to her classroom, stepping inside before she closed the door behind me.

Her scent was intoxicating and distracting, like flowers and vanilla. I tried to focus on the tiny desks that were too damn small for me to toss her down and do everything I’d dreamedabout while fisting my cock. I watched Sinclair as she rounded the wooden desk, ass and hips swinging in a hypnotizing cadence.

“I managed to scrounge up an adult seat,” she said, and motioned to the torture device that looked like a regular chair. She smiled, and when I sat with just the desk between us, I could see the flecks of gold and ribbons of green that swam in her big brown eyes. “I’m Sinclair Bronson, the new fourth grade teacher.” She introduced herself formally, but she kept her tone kind, that low, husky alto a double shot of lust straight to my cock.

I accepted her hand, ignoring the way the fiery electricity passed between our palms. “Nice to meet you. I’m Maurice, but you can call me Mo. Or Dagger.”

It was that moment that her gaze took in my tattoos and leather vest, her eyes darted from one patch to the other without judgment. “Dani said you were an artist, but she didn’t say that flesh was your canvas.”

I smiled. “Is that not a canvas?”

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