Tattoos and Cupcakes (Amulet of Queens Book 1) Page 2

  “Ooohh, I like it when my girlfriend talks dirty,” she teased.

  “For fuck’s sake, I’m never going to freaking live that down, am I?” I tossed her jacket at her from the bar.

  “Never.” She took the coat and put it on, reaching over to hug me. “Happy birthday Lena, don’t work too hard.”

  “It’s not work when you love it.” I hugged her back. She was the only person that got away with giving me a hug like that. My parents didn’t even try to hug me, not as long as I could remember. She slipped out the door with a wave.

  The quiet blissfully descended on my apartment again. Sam brought so much energy into a space that it just buzzed when she was around. I really enjoyed her company, but I preferred the silence.

  I moved to the bathroom, turning on the shower to let it heat up while I slipped out of my clothes. Looking in the mirror I studied myself. I didn’t look any different than I had yesterday. No six pack hiding under my stomach suddenly bulging forth, no crazy moles popping up anywhere unannounced to scare the masses. I didn’t understand what the big deal was with birthdays, it’s not like you miraculously changed overnight now that you were precisely a year older.

  I turned and looked at myself from the side. My long hair hung down my back, throwing out deep shades of red in the bright bathroom light. It outlined what I thought was an average frame. Not tall like Sam, but not short either. I had muscle tone from working out, but I wasn’t thin or anything. I was happy with how I looked, how I felt. Ordinary also meant that fewer people paid attention to me, exactly what I wanted. Not that I ever had a problem with that, no one ever even glanced my way.

  Stepping in the shower, I considered why birthdays were such a big deal. My mom insisted on celebrating every year. Cake, ice cream, and the whole shebang. She claimed that we had to celebrate “the gift from the universe,” as crazy as that sounds.

  My mom and dad, or adopted mom and dad, were amazing growing up. I couldn’t have asked for better parents and they raised me as their own. They had not been able to conceive and there I was, literally sitting on the doorstep of an orphanage just waiting to be given a home. Hence the whole gift from the universe thing. I had been left with nothing but a note, giving my name, and a necklace, the only clue as to who I was. My parents didn’t care where I had come from though, or why my biological ones didn’t want me, they loved me anyways.

  Days like today were hard. You were supposed to celebrate your existence, but how could I? Not when I knew that someone else had dreaded it so much that they gave me away. I hated feeling like that, but how do you know who you are without knowing who you actually are? I was forever grateful to my parents, but there was this deep feeling that I needed to know where I came from.

  I finished rinsing off and got out of the shower. Wrapped in a towel, I went through my bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. I picked up the necklace sitting on my nightstand, the one that was left with me as a baby, and that I always kept close. It was hard to explain, but it felt like I was drawn to it. Like somehow it called to me and even hummed sometimes when I wore it.

  Studying it, I watched as the deep red stone glistened from behind an intricate silver pattern. The long, shiny chain dangled through my fingers and I thought about how even though it looked expensive, I was sure it was nothing more than costume jewelry. Something my birth mother had left with me out of guilt for what she was doing. After all, if she abandoned me so easily, why would she leave me with anything of value? I set it back on the stand as I rose to get dressed. Sitting here all day staring at a rock would do me no good.

  Dressed in a tank top and jeans, I slipped into flat sandals without caring if they matched my outfit. It was chilly out today but I never had a problem with the cold, so I would be fine. Picking up the necklace from my nightstand I started to put it on, but hesitated. Today I didn’t want that constant reminder that I had no clue who I was dangling around my neck. It didn’t feel right leaving it behind at home either though, so I slipped it into my pocket, deciding that would work for now.

  I grabbed my car keys and coffee from the bar and headed toward the door. “Shit,” I huffed. Turning back into my living room I reached over the couch and snatched my hairbrush from under a sketchpad sitting on the table. Tucking it under my arm, I locked my apartment and left for my shop to start my day.

  Chapter Two

  Selena

  Pulling up in front of the shop, the familiar window display greeted me. I parked and got out, looking up at the store. Night Ink Tattoo was my baby. Starting it from the ground up and making it one of the most successful tattoo shops in the area was not an easy feat, but one I was proud of. The corner lot had been more expensive, but allowed the space and privacy for each client that I wanted, while still leaving drawing room for the staff and an office for myself. There was no way I was working on top of people all day.

  I walked to the massive wooden doors and let myself in, leaving them to swing shut behind me. Cleaner and soap assaulted my nose, making me grin. It would never get old. Soon the room would be filled with the sounds of machines running and customers gossiping over their newest ink ideas. That was one kind of noise I didn’t mind hearing. It meant the shop was productive and clients were happy.

  Moving through the shop I switched on lights, some of the artists liked to come in early to draw too. There were still a few hours until the store had to open, so it was as good a time as any to catch up on paperwork and maybe get some sketching done.

  My office wasn’t much but it served its purpose. In the middle sat a basic black metal desk, I didn’t need much, only some simple storage. That desk and a chair was all that was needed. There were a few prints of bright art hanging on the brick walls that I enjoyed, but I liked to keep it simple and uncluttered. Sitting down, I shuffled paperwork to the side to begin my day, getting lost in the mundane task of bookkeeping.

  Glancing at the clock I realized more time had passed than I thought, so I left the office and opened the shop with ten minutes to spare. I sat behind the long wooden counter and began sketching, enjoying the calm before the storm. I heard the bells on the door jingle, announcing someone’s entry.

  “Just one sec, I’ll be right with you,” I called out without looking up.

  Observing what I had been sketching, I saw a woman with long straight hair. Her eyes bright and shining as a tear ran down her cheek. It startled me how much she looked like me. I never drew myself. What surprised me more was I had drawn the necklace that was in my pocket around her neck. I frowned, how strange that I would draw something like this today of all days. Tossing the sketchpad down behind the counter I started to turn toward my customers, “Sorry about that, welcome to Night Ink.”

  “No problem.” The sexy, deep voice had me jerking my head the rest of the way around. I was met with the most intense deep blue eyes I had ever seen. They seemed to see into my very being and made me self-conscious for the first time in my life. His black hair was slicked back over his head, his beard close shaven, accenting a strong jawline. He had a thin scar just over one eye that arched higher as he cocked his head at me curiously.

  Damn it, stop gawking! Get it together! “How can I help you guys today?” I choked out. Great, sound like a dying squirrel, real smooth.

  Still staring at me and without saying a word, he pointed to his comrade, who had his back turned to us, studying the artwork on the wall. When his friend turned around I lost any hope of having a coherent thought. If I thought the first one was sexy, his friend was downright devastating. The classic good boy looks but on steroids. Dirty blonde hair streaked with highlights, styled as if he had just tumbled out of bed. With a body like that, I wouldn’t doubt he had. He was wearing a coat but you could still see his biceps, begging to have your fingers run down them.

  I cleared my throat as he stared me down with piercing blue eyes. “So…” I trailed off, looking between the two of them.

  “Yeah, uh, I want a tattoo,” he replied. “I have a
n appointment with someone named Selena.”

  This was my appointment? Why did he have to be so freaking sexy? “That would be me,” I responded, stepping around the counter and extending my hand toward him. “Nice to meet you.” I tried a smile but it probably came across as me having gas or something, because he just stared at my outstretched hand. What the heck was wrong with me? “Okay then,” I said, awkwardly dropping my arm.

  His friend bumped his side and he stepped forward. “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you. I’m Adrien,” he introduced himself, before extending his own hand and reaching for mine. He grasped it firmly and heat I didn’t even know was possible trickled through my palm, pooling between my thighs. I pulled my hand back quickly and walked behind the counter.

  “Not expecting me? You did make an appointment, right?” I asked, safely behind the wooden barrier again, keeping my hands to myself.

  “Well yeah, I just wasn’t expecting…” He paused his hand moving up and down, gesturing at me. “I just wasn’t expecting you, that’s all.”

  “Ooookay, whatever that means.” I rolled my eyes. I was used to being dismissed by people, avoided by men and women alike. Normally it didn’t bother me in the slightest, but with the attraction I felt toward him—crap, toward both of them—made this dismissal suck that much more. “Anyway, what were you looking to get done today?”

  “A tattoo.” He smirked, amusement dancing behind those blue eyes.

  Laughing at that, I decided I couldn’t stay upset over them dismissing me so easily. After all, it wasn’t their fault, it was just the way things were. “Okay smart-ass, what and where?”

  “That’s a loaded question, sweetheart,” his friend quipped from the side, smirking. They both broke out in huge smiles, making my gaze drift toward their lips. What would it be like to kiss one of them, right then? I bet it would knock the smile off their faces. My eyes shot up, realizing I had been staring. I shook my head, I needed to focus.

  “You knew what I meant, perv.” I grinned. “So what will it be then, Adrien?” He reached into his pocket and drew out a piece of paper, handing it to me. I opened it and studied the design. It was a pretty intricate knot, very Celtic inspired, but not like any other Celtic knot I had ever seen before. It all swirled around a creature in the middle that resembled a bat or a dragon, but not quite either one really. It was beautiful and unique, just the kind of tattoo I enjoyed doing.

  “This is stunning, a great choice. Did you draw it?”

  “Something like that. It’s more of a family thing.”

  “It’s always nice when a tattoo means something. Where are you getting it?” I looked up at him from the paper. Please don’t be those arms, please don’t be those arms, I pleaded silently with myself.

  “Right here.” He gestured to his chest and my stomach tightened. Oh good grief, that wasn’t any better.

  “Okay, well, uh, you two sit out here for a minute and I’ll go get a stencil ready.” Waving to the sofas arranged around the shop, I hurried to the back before they could respond. Or worse, I could make any more of an ass of myself.

  I quickly enlarged his design a little so it would fit on his chest, and prepared the stencil. I needed to pull myself together and stop thinking about things I shouldn’t. Like what those hands would feel like running down my back. I was just going to treat him as if he were any other client, not like the sex god that he had to be. Shaking my head again, I walked back toward the front of the store. The two were sitting on one of the sofas talking in hushed tones. It appeared they were arguing about something so I strained to hear what they were saying.

  “Damien, I can have a little fun,” Adrien whispered, stopping and turning when his friend looked up at me.

  “All ready, boys?” I asked. Holding up the stencil, I crossed to them swung my arm wide, directing him to the back of the store, where the chairs were set up. We had spaced them far enough apart to give clients privacy if needed, workstations placed between them, sectioning them off to give privacy as well. “There’s plenty of room if you want to come talk with your friend. No one else is here right now so it’ll be fine. Just take the first seat.” I pointed to the station so they would know where to go.

  They both sat while I pulled on gloves, and grabbed the transfer lotion. “I uh, need you to, you know.” Damn it, I could feel myself blushing. This was going to be a long tattoo session.

  “Get naked?” Adrien asked coyly, slipping out of his jacket and reaching for the hem of his shirt. If liquid heat was a thing, I think I may have just discovered it. My mouth went dry as he pulled his top over his head, dropping it carelessly onto the floor. His jeans dipped just low enough for me to see the ‘v’ that was etched in his amazing abs, and I’ll be damned, he looked even better than I had imagined when he was wearing that coat.

  “No, not all the way, uh, only your shirt is fine. Where exactly are we putting this?” I moved closer. Damn, he smelled amazing. Why the hell did he have to smell so good?

  Adrien grabbed my gloved hand that was holding the stencil, and ran it up his chest, placing it over the upper left side. “Right here,” he stated, not taking his eyes off of mine.

  “Kay,” I squeaked, my eyes wide and my cheeks probably flaming brighter than my hair in the sun. Adrien laughed. He knew what he was doing to me, damn it.

  Squeezing the transfer lotion onto his chest, I took a deep breath before I rubbed it over his impossibly smooth and muscled torso. Just don’t fucking moan out loud, Lena. Placing the stencil on his skin, I smoothed it out and lifted it up, grinning at its placement. I prided myself on good work.

  “How do you like where it is?” I questioned, lifting a mirror for him to look.

  “I’m sure it’s perfect,” he answered, those intense blue eyes staring at me, never glancing at the mirror.

  Swallowing hard I pushed it closer. “Do you want to make sure? You know it’s permanent, right?” I leaned around to ensure he could see the stencil in the frame of the mirror and he grabbed my wrist.

  “I trust you,” Adrien stated with certainty, his gaze still fixed on mine.

  We both turned as a throat cleared behind us. “Well then, that’s settled. It looks great,” Damien said, smiling a little bigger than seemed necessary.

  “Yeah… let’s get started.” Turning around I picked up my machine, added ink, and began his tattoo. He didn’t even flinch as the needles entered his skin. Did this man have to be so fucking perfect? I mean damn, if you could bottle seduction this would be it.

  The two sat and talked about what seemed like meaningless things. Somehow I managed to do what I always do and I slipped into my own thoughts, ignoring them as I concentrated on the intricate design.

  Dinner with my parents this weekend was going to be interesting, re-explaining that Sam and I were not dating. Hopefully she would not encourage my mom, though I didn’t have high hopes on that considering her reaction this morning. We were having a long talk before we went over there.

  Laughter from the two friends brought me out of my own thoughts. Sitting up I looked between them. “What?”

  “You were seriously concentrating on something,” Damien laughed.

  “Oh, sorry, I get like that sometimes. Did you say something to me?”

  “No, we were only watching you work. You’re very good,” Adrien smiled that devastating smile again.

  “Oh, uh, thank you,” I stammered, feeling a blush heat my skin. Putting my head back down, I started working again. I was almost finished and only had the top corner left to do. Adrien shifted his hips, getting comfortable in the chair again, and making me glace down. My eyes widened as a very apparent and sizeable boner stared back at me, bulging from behind his jeans.

  Suddenly I burst out laughing, I couldn’t even help myself. They both looked at me, their faces questioning my sanity, which only made me laugh harder.

  “Are you okay, sweetheart?” Adrien inquired, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine when he said sweetheart
.

  I laughed again, still unable to control myself. He grinned at me, and I swear the temperature in the room went up twenty degrees.

  Look anywhere, Lena, anywhere but that fucking bulge… Of course I glanced at it again and sure enough, it’s sitting there like some Mount Olympus of a dick that I would love to climb. I try to ignore his grin. “Yeah, well, I was just thinking about something funny that happened yesterday.”

  “Please, enlighten us as to what’s so funny,” Damien requested dryly.

  “Well, uh—” I stuttered. Shit, think of something. “Well, I made my mom cupcakes.”

  “Cupcakes?”

  “Yeah. They were terrible, and I knew they were terrible but I gave them to her anyway. The look on her face was priceless but she still ate them. I was just remembering how funny the look on her face was,” I finished lamely.

  “You must have some mom, but I bet your cupcake is amazing,” Adrien commented, making Damien slap him.

  “Uh no, those cupcakes really were terrible. Anyway, sorry it was a stupid story, guess you had to be there.” I shrugged. “Only a little left. Let’s finish up.”

  How freaking mortifying was that? Could I not come up with some better lie than a fucking cupcake? I hadn’t even seen my mother yesterday for fuck’s sake. This is why I didn’t have anyone in my life. Social situations and I just didn’t mix well.

  Finishing up the tattoo was seriously the most difficult thing I had ever done. His hard-on was staring at me the entire time, like one of those heated glares from someone across the room. You constantly felt it pinning you down and no matter how much you tried to ignore it, you couldn’t help but look. My mind kept wandering to what it would be like to let it loose and see what he was really packing underneath that zipper.

  Cleaning him up and applying ointment, I offered him the mirror to check it out. Giving it a quick glance he grins. “I knew it would be perfect.”

  Damien stood and tossed the shirt that had been discarded on the floor at Adrien. “Here, I think you’ve had your clothes off long enough. No one wants to see all that.”