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He hung up the phone, stuffing it back into his pocket before making his way over to Javier, whose eyes widened as Enzo approached.
“Careful,” Ricki called when Enzo made to bend down and pick Javier up. “Don’t touch his leg.”
Enzo paused, looking down at the mangled mess that was now Javier’s calf tattoo. Most of the skin was smeared with black ink, the tattoo that Ricki had previously done now splotched with the wide swaths of ink she’d laid down today. What wasn’t black was now red and blistered, the skin looking like someone had pressed it against a hot stove.
“What the fuck is that?” Enzo asked, looking at his wife in horror. “You want this chick to ink us? When her shit looks like this?”
“Hey!” Ricki said indignantly. “My work is solid. That was a strategic move made because I was out of options.”
“Strategic, hey?” Enzo asked, crouching down to look closer. “What’d you do to him?”
“Uh,” Ricki hesitated, looking at Frankie, who only nodded. “I poisoned him.”
“That doesn’t explain how his leg got all messed up.”
“Actually, it does. I poisoned the ink. He wanted a tattoo, so he got one. I just added something a little extra.”
Enzo laughed uproariously, as though he’d never heard anything better.
“Is that why he can’t breathe, too? Shit, that’s genius. Frankie, babe. We should get some of that shit. This is way less messy than the old-fashioned way.”
“I’ll see what I can do, Enzo,” Frankie said, smiling at her husband indulgently.
“Alright, you sack of shit,” Enzo said, grasping Javier by his wrists and hauling him upright. “Let’s go. We’re gonna take a little drive.” Looking at me, Enzo lifted his chin. “See the sights. I hear there’s a great view of the Harlem River from the train yard in Inwood.” Javier groaned again, drool coming out of his mouth as his body continued to fail him. “Oh, son of a bitch,” Enzo complained. “He’s pissed himself. I fuckin’ hate it when they piss themselves.”
With that, he looped one of Javier’s arms over his shoulders and began hauling him to the door.
“You better not get piss on my suit, you fucking dumbass.”
“Well, I guess we’re off,” Frankie said lightly, like all of this was perfectly normal. “I’ve got some business in the city this week, but I’ll call you tomorrow to arrange a time to get our pieces done.”
“Anytime,” Ricki said, then looked at me and considered. “Actually, make it later in the afternoon. I think we’re gonna be sleeping in.”
“Girl, I like your style.”
Epilogue
Asher
Crashingthroughthedoor,I stumbled against the stack of boxes in the storeroom, my arms holding tight to Ricki as I kept my mouth against hers, our kiss frantic. We only had a short amount of time before her clients showed up, and I didn’t want her to be late for her first official tattoos in her own shop.
But that didn’t mean I wanted to stop, either.
“Fuck, Ricki,” I breathed, my hands squeezing her ass in the sexy black skirt she was wearing. This one was long—nearly to the floor—but it had a slit in one side that wentallthe way up. Watching her moving around as she prepared her station had me half hard.
Seeing her flash me a sexy wink and nod her head to the back room got me the rest of the way there.
“You’re so fucking hot when you’re working, baby,” I ground out, hauling her against me and pressing my aching cock into her soft belly as I dragged my lips over her neck. “Who knew I was into boss bitches?”
“Goddamn, Asher,” she moaned, her head back as she presented her chest to me. “Say it again.”
“You’re a boss bitch.”
“Fuck yeah.” Ricki pressed another kiss to my mouth before she reached down and grabbed her skirt, hiking it high enough that she could spread her legs and straddle my thigh. “I am. Isoam.”
We kissed some more, the roll and slide of her pussy against the denim of my jeans getting us both worked up.
Not that that was unusual for us.
