I swipe it away quickly. “–Nuh-uh, it’s a surprise,” I tell him, holding the phone out of his reach.
“You know Pres hates surprises.”
I turn on my heel and make my way to the exit. “Not this one. Come on, entertain the Pres’s ol’ lady. What’s the worst that could happen?”
He follows behind me begrudgingly. “That’s what I’m worried about. I know you too well.”
Slider leans against the wall shaking his head at me. Ink pulls his motorcycle up outside the tattoo shop and greets me with a bear hug. “Long time, Rochelle. How’s it going?” Slider opts to wait outside.
“All good, thanks. I’m sorry, I’ve been meaning to book in for a while, but you know how it is. Sometimes life just gets in the way.”
He nods, leading me into the back room. I get comfortable in the leather chair.
“So. what’s it gonna be?” he asks.
I pull down my top, exposing the swell of my breast, and he immediately swivels on his seat, turning away from me. “Jesus,” he mutters, shaking his head.
I laugh. “Ink, I don’t think you can tattoo me with your back to me.”
“Rochelle, does the Pres know about this?” he asks, keeping his back to me.
“No, it’s a surprise,” I reply, suddenly wondering if I’ve made the right decision.
“Fuck,” he snaps. “Cover yourself up.”
I pull my top up, feeling a little insecure, and he spins back around on his chair.
He assesses me for a long minute, his jaw ticking the entire time, like he’s weighing up his options.
“I just wanted to surprise him. I’ve been a huge brat recently.”
He laughs, arching a brow. “You, a brat?Never.” His voice is laced with sarcasm.
I roll my eyes at him. “I want to do something nice for him to make it up.”
He still looks at me with uncertainty, so I sigh, shrugging and then sliding from the chair.
He groans, putting his hand out to stop me. “Wait here,” he grunts, leaving the room.
A few moments later, he comes in with a tray of equipment, looking more sure of himself. “Right, show me.”
I pull my top down to expose where Drifter’s bite mark sits proudly. “I want his bite mark to be permanent.”
He nods in approval. “Lie back.”
I rest my head back against the cool leather and relax as he wipes the area clean. Then the tattoo gun comes to life, and I close my eyes as the sting grounds me.
I leave the tattoo shop smiling, but it falters when I see Slider. He looks positively pissed resting against his motorcycle.
“What’s up with your face?” I ask.
He shakes his head and throws the helmet at me.Miserable fucker.
We pull up outside the clubhouse, where Drifter is waiting for me on the porch. I side-eye Slider as I push his helmet hard into his chest. A loud breath leaves him.
I skip across the courtyard to Drifter, noticing his jaw is tight and his eyes are assessing me. I lean up on my tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his lips. He doesn’t respond, and I feel my mood deflating.
“Okay,” I say with a heavy sigh, “who grassed me up?” I laugh in the hope the tension will dissipate.
