Series: Little Cakes Series by Pepper North
Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 46837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
She liked that. She liked it a lot.
No one had ever given up the chance to have hot sex with her because he wanted to build their bond. Milo had long-term plans. That was totally new for her. It was exciting and a bit scary at the same time.
Forcing herself out of bed before she could freak out, Riley went to the bathroom and dressed quickly. She decided to fix her favorite breakfast as a celebration. As Riley spread the thick hazelnut and chocolate spread over her toast, she looked over her apartment.
Even to herself, she was such a wild mixture of types: edgy bartender, tattooed hard-ass, inspired artist, closet submissive, and Little girl. Was it possible for one man to appreciate all the parts of her? Milo knew most of her secrets. Just not all of them.
The buzz of her cell phone pulled Riley out of her thoughts. “Hey, Tatiana! Got a new job for me?”
“I do. It’s complicated. Do you have any time to stop by today so we can talk?”
“Ooh, sounds intriguing. I can be there in an hour. Does that work for you?”
“You bet. I have an appointment at two, but we can talk until he gets there.”
Her gaze flew to the clock. Had she slept that long? “Sounds good. See you soon.”
Good thing she hadn’t been on the schedule at Little Cakes today. Riley had lost a few hours she should have used designing. Somehow, she didn’t regret spending time thinking about Milo.
Racing into the bedroom, Riley tore off her nightshirt and pulled on a red matching bra and panty set, jeans, and a black tank top. There were a few people out walking in the beautiful weather, and cars streamed down the busy road. Without her car, Riley was forced to walk to the strip center. She made herself a note to call the mechanic after meeting with Tatiana.
Turning in to the delivery space behind the shops, Riley walked past Little Cakes to get to the rear door of the tattoo parlor. She pressed on the doorbell and waited for someone to let her in.
“You made good time,” Tatiana greeted her.
“I didn’t want to hold you up,” Riley answered with a smile as she stepped inside. “So, what’s unusual about this design?”
“Come to my chair. I want to show you some pictures,” Tatiana invited.
Riley followed her through the open space. Other artists called her name in greeting and she waved in response. She loved the sound of buzzing needles and the scent of the tightly wound emotions of the clients.
Tattoos had become much more common these days. She grinned at an elderly couple who were dressed in their best Sunday clothes chatting with Maniac who was hard at work tattooing something on the elderly man’s bare arm.
“What’s the story with them?” Riley asked quietly when they reached Tatiana’s workspace.
“Maniac’s tattooing matching hearts on their arms. They say simply: HERS and HIS. He thinks there’s a pressing need to finish one quickly.”
“That’s sad.”
“It is. I have a memorial tattoo appointment today.”
Riley nodded. She knew a lot of people got tattoos for special events. Those were her least favorite to create. It was hard to capture in ink the unique spark that made someone special.
“I have a client who wants something unique. It’s his first tattoo. He thinks it will be his only tattoo.” Tatiana smirked slightly.
“Yeah, I thought that, too,” Riley said with a laugh as she looked over her heavily tattooed arm.
“Everyone thinks that. Until they discover how addictive they are,” Tatiana said with a laugh. “Thank goodness. It keeps me in business.”
She laid pictures of a man’s bare chest and shoulder, featuring a front and side view. “He’s hot. I won’t mind looking at him as I work. I noted the dimensions for you.”
“What does he want?” Riley asked as she stared at the pictures. The man’s face wasn’t visible, but his incredibly fit body looked familiar. Something tugged at the back of her brain. She should recognize him.
When she realized that Tatiana hadn’t answered, Riley looked up from the pictures to see the tattoo artist grinning at her. “What?”
“I’m surprised you haven’t licked those photos,” Tatiana teased.
“Oh, come on. I’m just looking at the canvas you’re providing me,” Riley blustered.
When Tatiana lifted one eyebrow in a skeptical, silent question, Riley caved. “I think I know him.” She schooled her expression into disinterest to lessen the tattoo artist’s attention. He looks like Milo. Surely not. I must be imagining things because I can’t get him out of my head.
“Seriously? You know him? Well enough that you can recognize his chest and back without his head?” she teased.
Riley pursed her lips a moment and then shrugged. “Maybe I’m wrong.” She didn’t want to share her suspicions.
Tatiana chuckled. “Here’s what he wants. Up here on the shoulder, he wants a princess in a tower, but this princess isn’t supposed to be the traditional type. He wants a modern-day princess who sports full-sleeve tattoos and wears a tank top.”