Full Contact (Redemption #3)(63)

“I was looking at my ass in the mirror the other day,” he says, his expression growing serious, “and I had an idea for an addition to the cover Sia did for me.” He hands me a piece of paper with a drawing of a bird perched on a broken heart. “Hope.” He points to the bird. “From the Emily Dickinson poem. I thought the broken heart might be a bit depressing for the ladies, but if we add the bird—”

The door opens and closes behind me, and I shiver as cool air brushes over my skin.

“It’s lovely.” I hand him back the drawing. “I’ll be happy to add it. Do you want me to make a stencil from your drawing or make up one of my own?”

Doctor Death tilts his head to the side and gives me a questioning look. “I was hoping you could do it freehand.”

Rose coughs and bangs her coffee cup on her desk.

“Freehand?” Very few artists will do freehand work because, if the client doesn’t like the tattoo, there is no going back. It is the ultimate statement of trust between a client and the artist. And something Slim has always claimed for himself.

“Slim doesn’t let anyone in the shop work freehand except him. If you don’t want a stencil, he’ll have to do it for you.”

Doctor Death strokes a finger over my cheek. “I trust you, Sia. You do great work. I was almost disappointed I’d asked you to do that cover on my ass because I would have liked to show that piece around.”

“Sia!” Rose shouts even though I am only a few feet away. “Someone is here to see you.”

Only then do I turn around.

Ray is sprawled on one of the big, brown leather client couches, taking up the space of four clients. This I know because the four clients that were there are now huddled on the other couch, clearly afraid to ask Ray to take his arms down from the back of the couch or perhaps close his legs so his manliness is not on full display. His posture is powerful, aggressive, controlling. And maybe he seems a tiny bit annoyed.

I make the wise decision to ask Doctor Death to come back another day, and I keep his attention focused on Rose and her appointment book so he doesn’t see Ray glowering in the corner. Catching on, Rose positions her screen so Doctor Death’s back is to the reception area. But I can’t stop Doctor Death from giving me a final peck on the cheek when the appointment is made and saying he looks forward to having my hands on his ass again.

Glancing over my shoulder, I see Ray watching this exchange with avid interest, although his face remains an expressionless mask.

“Your boyfriend is pissed,” Rose mutters from behind her screen as she writes out the appointment card. Doctor Death’s phone rings, and he stands by the desk as he takes the call.

“How can you tell?”

She shrugs. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the extremely aggressive, intimidating alpha-male gonna-getchu posture, or the way his eyes drilled into Doctor Death while he was flirting with you. Or it could have been the ‘When the f*ck did he get here?’ he growled at me when he walked in before heating the place up so much I thought he was going to combust. But that’s just me. I might have it totally wrong.”

“You do.” I draw frowny faces on her notepad as I mentally prepare myself for an unexpectedly irritated Ray. “He’s not my boyfriend. Well, sort of. Anyway, it’s work. No big deal.”

“If you say so.” She lifts a perfectly manicured eyebrow and turns away. “Although I think someone forgot to tell him that.”

Doctor Death ends his call, and Rose hands him the card. But just as he turns for the door, Ray pushes himself off the couch and closes the distance between them in three easy strides of his long legs. Positioning himself between Doctor Death and the door, he folds his arms and glares.

My heart thuds in my chest. Rose gasps and grabs my arm. Seemingly unaffected by the raging male in front of him, Doctor Death sighs.

“Excuse me.”

Ray doesn’t move. “I see you here again or anywhere near my girl, I’m gonna rip off your balls and shove them down your throat.”

“Ray!” I take a step forward. “He’s a client. You can’t speak to my clients that way.”

“He wants your hands on his ass.” Ray bites out each word.

“Actually, I already had her hands on my ass.” Doctor Death smirks. “I came back for more.”

Ah. Doctor Death has a death wish.

Before my mind has even registered he has moved, Ray has Doctor Death by the collar and up against the wall. “I know about Makayla,” he growls. “And I know about Amanda. You got a problem keeping your hands off another man’s property. But I’m telling you now, this ends here.”

“Ass work is part of my job.” I fold my arms and scowl. “So it ends when I’ve done the work my client asked me to do.”

Ray doesn’t take his eyes off Doctor Death, but his words are directed at me. “No more ass work. You don’t touch any man below the belt for any reason. And you don’t touch them above the belt unless you’re out in the open. And this f*cker you don’t touch at all.”

“This is just like in the movies,” Rose whispers under her breath. “And he’s not joking. Look at his face. I thought Torment was scary but Ray is terrifying.”

“Put him down.” I raise my voice almost to a shout. “You’re being ridiculous.”