Chapter 2

Two

K aila

I came three times last night and I would wager why I didn't sleep a wink. Not even a cold shower doused the heated thoughts of one tattoo artist that checked all the bad boy boxes for me.

How could I sleep when every time I closed my eyes images of Diesel popped into my head? It didn't take much to recall his dark eyes, the way his hair always looked mussed or that he gave me my first kiss.

Or the feel of his steel length of his arousal teasing my clit until my toes curled.

One thing my momma always said was I had a memory like an elephant. And last night I put it to good use.

My clit still throbbed and my legs felt a little shaky.

It had been four years since I last returned home. Christmas, if I remembered correctly. I hadn't been doing so well then. In fact, it was the year I got the tattoo I was trying to cover right now. Ironic as it may be.

Hand on the brass handle, I eased the door open to the jingle of a bell. Cool air chased away the Savannah summertime heat, and I sighed. I might love the heat of a Southern summer after years of living in the North, but I don't like how it curled the ends of my long hair.

The minute I walked into the tattoo shop, I forgot all about bookshelves and heatwaves. A familiar rush hit my system and a jolt of adrenaline spiked my blood. Besides the tattooed name of he-who-shall-never-be-named on my upper hip, I also had a delicate hummingbird in flight over a pink rose on each shoulder.

I hadn't had any new ink in too long, but it was time to remedy that. New beginnings called for it, right? Plus, after my fantasy-filled night, I was dying to see Diesel.

The shop looked clean and the white walls plastered with beautiful art that screamed they belonged to the man I sought out. They were not your generic variety of butterflies and skulls that people liked to choose from.

I breathed in the scents of burning vanilla incense and stepped up to examine a poster closer. A ring of flames with a heart in the center that seemed to be pulsing off the canvas. Next to it hung a portrait of a crying woman with a reflection of the person she was crying for in the tear running down her cheek. My heart cracked for the unknown person who commissioned such a piece.

"I'll be right with you," a man called in a deep, familiar tone from his station off to the side. A shimmer of excitement raced up my spine and spiraled down in a storm of need to make my clit pulse.

I only meant to toss a friendly smile over my shoulder in understanding, but suddenly that night five years ago on the beach came rushing back to me.

"Diesel," I whispered. Saying his name out loud. Tasting the sound on my lips.

His broad back directed to me, but he turned his head slightly, giving me a view of his dark eyes lined with black lashes and the fringes of a tattoo that twined around the base of his neck before dipping below the collar of his shirt.

"Take your time. I'm just looking around," I responded lightly, too caught up in drinking him in to say more.

Did he recognize me? Probably not. Half of my face was covered by a large swath of hair.

I forced myself to move on to the next poster and let my heart catch up with the rest of me.

This one was framed. But it didn't need the thick silver borders to give the piece importance. It stood on its own as one of the best drawings I'd ever seen. The piece could easily be inked onto someone's back or chest, and the details were breathtaking, vivid.

Diesel had not lost his eye for detail in the years between seeing each other. My trepidation about having my tattoo covered faded every second I breathed in the magic of his space.

"What can I do for you?" The deep male voice trickled into my senses. When I pulled my gaze to his, nothing prepared me for the gorgeous tattooed specimen standing before me.

The man I wanted to lose my virginity all those years ago had changed. Matured in ways I never thought about back then. It was in the eyes and the way he stood. The years had given him character, and I loved it.

He looked as exquisite as the art on the walls. Okay, so his dark hair still tousled just like the old Diesel. But he wore the sides trimmed close to the scalp while several rebel strands fell over a smooth forehead. Straight brows, straight nose. Defined, firm lips and a jawline that could cut glass polished off the look of a man who could drop panties for fifty yards out.

And the one thing that stood out the most standing this close—his size. Damn, he was huge. A mountain.

Blood rushed in my ears, and a full five seconds passed before I could think past the way he tasted on my tongue that first kiss.

His eyes were warm, dark moons fixed on me, and the creases at the corners were the only signs he was a day over thirty-five. I cocked my head. That said, he did look a little worn around the edges. Like a man that had seen shit in life that could not be erased.

He wore a white button-down shirt open at the collar with the sleeves rolled over his impressive forearms, thick with veining and inked entirely in an array of colors. I flicked my gaze back to the big piece wrapped around his throat.

"Hey, Diesel."

I grated my teeth over my lip and forced myself to breathe.

Diesel's brow furrowed before recognition smoothed out the lines across his forehead. "Kaila? No damn way. Is that you? Seriously? My god, baby, get over here and give me a hug."

His arms went wide, and I didn't waste time in doing just that.

"The most beautiful woman in the world just walked into my shop. Step back, baby, let me take another look."

Firm hands on my shoulders spun me around, and I grinned, pulling his hands into mine once our gazes connected.

His fingers locked with mine and his gaze was intense and fierce just like I remembered. When you had his attention, Diesel never gave half. He was an all-in or nothing kind of guy and I was happy to see that hadn't changed over the years.

"I don't know about prettiest, but it's so good to see you again, Diesel."

Those piercing brown eyes of his were locked onto me and took in how I fiddled with the edges of my scarf. Curiosity had me dying to blurt out why the hell my dad seemed so hell-bent on keeping me away from him, but my Southern upbringing had me holding my tongue.

He pulled me back in, and I might have sighed a little when his strong, warm arms came around me. I thought he heard me too because he chuckled a warm sound.

I won't lie. When I felt tight muscle coil around me, heat exploded through me and I was right back on that beach, pinned to his body and us drinking each other in like we couldn't get enough of each other. It felt all sorts of hot to know he wanted me. I was certain it would be the night I had my V-card punched.

I was wrong. My brother found us making out a ways down the beach when I should have been back at the bonfire. The summer before I left for college, I had curiosities I needed Diesel to help me with. He was all for it back then, but my brother...er, not so much.

When he found us tongue deep in each other's mouths and a few articles short on clothing, a few punches were exchanged. Words were tossed around, and my brother demanded he walk away. Much to my dismay, Diesel did, and for a while took my heart with him.

That was the last time I saw him.

Cushioned against firm pecs and a hard body, I leaned in and inhaled the scent of fresh sea air and all male. He'd been to the beach recently and I felt a pang of jealousy, wishing I could have gone with him.

After he released me, I stepped back and took all of him in. "Talk about pretty." My eyes dropped to all the tatts I could see peeking out from the edges of his button-down.

His lips quirked, and he tilted his head back a bit. "Go ahead and look. Everyone does."

"It's stunning." A dragon, lifelike with scales, and a depth of color that made you feel you could reach out and stroke its rough skin. My fingers hovered in the air without me thinking. I blushed wildly and quickly pulled my hand back.

He laughed. The warm sound poured through my body. Comforting and exciting at the same time.

He took my fingers in his and guided them over the inked skin of his forearm.

"He likes it when you stroke him," he teased, winking at me.

My God. I almost died. Only thing keeping me upright was pure determination not to faint like a Southern belle.

"Not that I mind, but what brings you in today?" He eyed me, and for the first time in a very long time, I grew aware of what I planned to do. My past came tumbling through the years to sit on my shoulders like one hundred pounds of weight.

But not for long. Not after today.

I pulled back my white-blonde hair that had once lured in he-who-shall-not-be-named shortly after arriving in Chicago and tied it into a knot at the base of my neck. When I looked in the mirror, the wide innocent blue eyes that had once been so naive held sparks of wisdom now.

"Don't judge, but I kinda need a cover-up and my brother told me you were back. Since I am too, it sorta felt like the universe was saying it's time."

"You're in the right place. My specialty."

"Everyone always thought you were the best and we were right." I pointed at the posters.

He only nodded, but I caught the shadow of pain that flashed over his expression.

"So, let's see what you need done. I see you've got more than a little ink already." His eyes skimmed over my knuckles that had tiny hearts and stars and my blouse was pulled over my shoulders to reveal my hummingbirds.

An angel in flight was inked on my forearm, and some ribbons trailed up my round thighs, partly visible beneath the edges of my short jean skirt. "Beautiful work. I wish I could have been the one to put all that pretty color on your skin, but whoever did the job did exceptional work."

"Thank you." I blushed fiercely when he trailed a finger over my knuckles and brushed another over the wings of my angel.

"I can't imagine you want to cover anything up. I'm curious. What do you have that I can't see?"

A flicker of heat passed through the dark pools of his eyes, and I felt it to my core.

My eyes dipped to the floor, and I grated my lips between my teeth.

"Come on, sweetheart. You can show me." His voice sounded low, soothing and I didn't feel as embarrassed as I did a moment ago.

"This." When I peeled back the top edge of my skirt, panic flooded me. Not because of any emotion tied to the tattoo but what I would be losing when I couldn't see it anymore. The tie to reason and accountability that has kept me from getting hurt again.

Was I really going to go through with this?

I took in the slight scruff of Diesel's chin and the warm, patient smile on his lips.

I could do this. I needed to do this. Besides, my brother was right. If I wanted to move on to the next phase of my life, I had to stop torturing myself. I didn't need a silly tattoo to keep me from making mistakes. I had learned a lot about myself and life while away at college.

Diesel waited as I warred with myself. His dark eyes softened, and for some reason tears filled my eyes. "Come back to my station and I'll take a look there, okay? Where it's just us."

I nodded and followed him to the back of his shop past several other artists working on various stages of ink. I didn't pay too much attention. All I could focus on was the way the denim of his jeans sculpted over a perfect ass. He held a door open and pointed to his red leather chair. I perched on the edge, heart drumming.

Door closed, we were all alone. "Let me see, Kaila." His quiet tone soothed. Calmed.

I dragged in a deep breath and lifted my hem to reveal the scrolling inked lines of Wolfe's name on my hip. It had been the first place he'd touched me, and I'd wanted his name there as proof of love at first touch. In a million years I never would have believed I'd be in this shop—any shop—for this reason. Wolfe had promised to cherish me for the rest of my life. He had wanted sex right away but I convinced him to wait. After Diesel, I figured taking it slow might be the better way to go.

The only smart thing I did. The first three weeks or so had been blissful. That was when the tattoo happened. It was the night he treated me like a precious queen. I was in this fog of perceived happiness.

Then I found out Wolfe was okay with not having sex with me because he was dating three other chicks on the side. He liked to play games. Toy with me. Looking back, I didn't know his end game, and I was glad I didn't stick around long enough to find out.

I chewed my lower lip, and Diesel stared at me for several heartbeats.

"You sure you want to cover this, sweetheart? Seems intimate."

"Positive. And the only intimate thing about it is the location, trust me." I dropped my hem to hide the letters that made my skin crawl, and a sickness rose inside me. I hated my ex as much as I'd once loved him.

"Let's do this."