Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Read Online Books/Novels: | INKED 8 - A Tattoo Shop Reverse Harem |
|---|---|
Author/Writer of Book/Novel: | Stephanie Brother |
| Language: | English |
| Book Information: | |
What begins as a kinky game ends up as something else entirely. When I start a new job as the Ink Factor tattoo parlor receptionist, I have no idea what to expect. My skin is virgin, so I’ve never stepped foot into a place like it. But it’s not the graffitied walls or the crazy loud music that overwhelms me; it’s the eight huge, sexy, tattooed men who own it. Dex and Lex are twins with pierced tongues, wicked grins, and snake tattoos that disappear beneath their waistbands to goodness knows where. Nash, Niall, and Noah are triplets who have marked their skin to make their gorgeous jacked bodies less identical. Kase and Kole are dark and mysterious, watching everything I do with a mix of suspicion and fascination. And Carl is the boss. With ice blue eyes and hair like a Viking, he makes my knees weak every time he gives me an order. They hire me to sort out their admin. I spend my days trying to stay professional and my nights tangled in dreams filled with men of ink and sin. But it’s when they overhear me talking to a friend about my lack of bedroom experience that things get really interesting. They offer to help in a strictly educational kind of way. They each have a different kink, and they’re confident they can help me figure out what I like. They treat it like a game, telling me to score them on satisfaction and technique. A little more experience will help me find Mr. Right-For-Me. At least that’s what they say. Except, each night I spend with them makes me more confused. You see, my problem is that I don’t want to find someone else. I think I want them all. | |
| Books by Author: | Stephanie Brother |
1
KYLA
“You have to apply for the job,” Dawn says as she leans against the counter at the Daily Grind, my current miserable place of work.
“Sshhh,” I say, glancing around and finding my manager safely out of earshot. Not that Dawn would care. She’s been telling me to leave this place since I first secured the role. Admittedly, the pay sucks, and my manager works me until I’m broken and expects a smile to top it all off. Not only that, but I’m actually one of life’s weirdos who doesn’t have a hard-on for coffee. Give me a nice creamy hot chocolate every time. Or a glass of wine.
Going home every day with the smell of burnt coffee beans in my hair and clothes is just the icing on a hugely gross cake.
“I don’t know anything about tattoos,” I say. “How can I apply for a job in a tattoo parlor?”
“You don’t need to know anything about tattoos,” Dawn says. “It’s an admin role. They need someone to organize them, and you are the queen of organization.”
She’s right. Just thinking about my pantry that’s filled with labeled glass jars, and my color-coded closet fills me with peace and joy.
“How did you find out about it?”
Dawn grins and yanks down the back of her baggy boyfriend jeans, twisting her body around so she can show me the new ink she has on the small of her back and watch my expression at the same time. My expression of horror.
“YOLO?” I blink slowly, wondering why my friend would have a word that isn’t even a word marked forever on her skin.
“Yeah. You know, you only live once.”
“Oh, yeah. Of course.” I paint on the best smile I can to conceal my shock. “Well, that certainly fits you.”
“Exactly,” she gushes. “And anyway, while I was getting this done, the boss over there was ranting about how he can never find anything, and one of the guys suggested they get someone in to do their admin. At that point, I told them I knew just the person. The role hasn’t been advertised. You’ll be the only one going for an interview.”
“Until they meet me and realize that I’m not exactly Miss Cool.”
“They’re not looking for Miss Cool,” Dawn says as her eyes drop to take in my light blue sweater and skinny jeans. I know they’re not supposed to be fashionable anymore, but I can’t seem to move on from their figure-hugging style. “They’re looking for Miss Organized.”
I catch my manager scowling in my direction from the corner of my eye. Dawn has been hanging around for too long, and I’m going to get warned about it any minute.
“When should I go in?”
“I told them you finish from here at five pm. They’re expecting you just after.”
“Today!” I snort, a hot flush rising up my neck and burning my cheeks.
“Yes, today. Strike while the iron’s burning, or whatever the saying is.”
“Hot,” I correct because that’s exactly what I am. Roasting with embarrassment and mortification. “I can’t go dressed like this.”
Dawn scans my attire again but dismisses my objection with a wave of her hand. “You’ll be fine. Just talk up your admin experience, and everything will be great. Oh, and push them for a decent paycheck. You deserve at least twice what you’re making here, and they can afford it. Ink Factor is a countrywide franchise. These guys started it, so they’re loaded, but they still like to stay close to their craft.”
“Twice? Are you sure?”
“Twice,” she says firmly. Her hand goes to her earring, rolling the black beads between her fingers as she glances around the coffee shop. It’s quiet today, which is the only reason I’ve had more than two seconds to talk to her. And the only reason my boss hasn’t flipped out yet. “I’d better go. I’m picking up some seriously negative vibes from the dragon.”
“She’s going to breathe fire all over me,” I whisper mournfully.
“Let her. And tomorrow, you’ll be able to tell her to stick her job up her tight, scaly ass!”
“Sshhh,” I say again as Dawn pivots daintily on her chunky black loafers.
“I’ll sshh if you promise me that you’ll go.”
“Okay, I promise.” I guess I have nothing to lose, except my dignity and my confidence and this job if Dawn doesn’t make a sharp exit.
My bestie bows, giving me a wink. “From now on, you can call me your fairy godmother. Oh, and call me as soon as you’re done.” A sly smile creeps across her red lips as though there’s something she’s not telling me, but she’s backing away before I get a chance to probe.
The bell on the door jangles loudly as she leaves, and my boss opens her thin lips to tell me that friends aren’t supposed to keep us busy at work, but before she gets a chance, I make my excuses and dash to the toilet.