Young Love (Bloomfield #4) (2 page)

I was probably so boring to someone like Grey. Still, I couldn’t look away as he slowly created a piece of art on my cousin’s body. Some unfamiliar part of me was actually jealous as I watched his hands touching her skin.

What would that be like? My eyes drifted over the muscles flexing under all that ink, and started to wonder just what it would feel like to have him touching me in all sorts of ways.

I could feel my cheeks burning, unable to stop my mind from wandering down avenues it had no place wandering. I suspected Grey had this effect on most women who came in here.

I distantly heard Perrie’s musical giggles as her and Grey talked. It was her flirty laughter. I shifted on my seat, denying the sense of jealousy that was increasing by the second. Perrie could have him for all I cared. The guy had to be somewhere in his twenties, and I was nineteen. There was no way I was going there. So why did it bother me so much that the two of them were clearly getting along?

Ugh. I wished I hadn’t come. This was some kind of strange torture that I wasn’t used to. While I’d had crushes and boyfriends in the past, I really wasn’t one to think much about boys, or get all possessive over them. Boys just didn’t fit into my packed schedule.

Grey laughed at something she said, and the sound had my thoughts spiraling again. That laugh was amazing. Just as husky as his voice, but even deeper, and somehow sensual. My eyes were glued to that mouth, the corners of it pulled up into a smile.

Wowzers. Grey didn’t come off as the type who smiled often, but he should. Oh he should. Because it turned his strong, handsome face into a whole new level of breathtaking.

It slowly slipped away, returning to that grim line. Sigh. Good things never last forever.

I raised my eyes and met his. He was staring back at me, a look in them that I couldn’t decipher, but it had me shifting again, quickly glancing away. He’d probably caught me staring at him like a weirdo.

Shit. Next time Perrie used those pleading eyes and begged me to go somewhere with her, I was sticking to no.

A very, very firm no.

Chapter 2

Grey

This little girl was fucking me up.

Steadying my hand, I let out a slow breath as I went back to work. I didn’t think Perrie would be particularly happy if I screwed up her tattoo. Her cousin was a distraction I didn’t want or need right then.

Honor. That’s what Perrie had called her. Why did it not surprise me that was her name? The girl reeked of light and goodness. From the way she sat, her posture straight and proper, and her hair pulled up into a bun, I’d put my money on her being a dancer.

She had that lithe body of a dancer too. It was that tight little figure that had me wanting to look over at her. That, and her gorgeous face. Fuck was she gorgeous. She had this tiny little nose, and big lips. Her eyes were so grey it was as though all the color had leaked out of them. They were gorgeous. And she wore absolutely no make-up, her pale skin flawless.

And she was also way too young for me. I didn’t know her age, but I’d pin her around eighteen, nineteen. Definitely not the same age as Perrie. I was twenty-five, and made it a rule never to date anyone more than four years my junior. The younger ones were too clingy and immature. I’d made that mistake enough times to have learned my lesson.

I was at the stage in my life and job where I needed to be focused and responsible. I’d done the club and bar scene, I was over it. When I was finished my shifts here, I liked to go home, sit on my couch, and relax. I didn’t want drama, and I didn’t want the headache of a relationship. Girls needed too much attention, especially when they were younger.

The girls I hooked up with knew the score, and they were on the same page. Have fun, and then say goodnight. No commitments, no sleepovers.

A girl like Honor was definitely the type who’d want a commitment. That wasn’t my thing. So why did I feel restless with her being so close?

I could feel her eyes on me, and I both loved it, and hated it. All the young girls stared at me with big, flirty eyes. There was something about that bad-boy, older guy image that had them wanting to drop their panties the second I looked at them. Not interested.

Briggs, the shop owner, knew exactly how much I hated that kind of attention. Of course, it was what was making his shop more successful. My appointments were filled with girls coming in to have tattoos done on all sorts of parts of their bodies. Some that I was sure they’d regret when they actually grew up. They’d bring their friends in, and then come back to get more done themselves, all the while hinting at me that they were looking for more from me than just some ink. One had even brought her mom in once, and I wasn’t sure who was worse, the daughter or her mother. It was actually embarrassing.

Perrie was flirting too, but I got more of a playful vibe from her, than a legitimate one. She didn’t give me the impression that she was actually interested in me that way.

Normally I would have enjoyed this kind of flirting, except tonight I couldn’t with Honor sitting by watching it all. I was actually kind of surprised she wasn’t joining in. All the other girls who brought their friends would both be trying to get my attention. I’d expected this initially from her too. But she just sat there quietly, fidgeting on the stool as if she were uncomfortable and didn’t want to be here.

When Perrie had said something about inking Honor’s virgin skin, it was all I could do to tear my eyes away from her, picturing just what all that creamy skin would look like exposed on my chair. I would love to mark her, and that thought right there had made me mentally slamming the door on that vision.

“How many girls have you done today?” Perrie was asking.

I grunted, wiping away ink and blood as I continued the line work. “I lost count after the sixth one.”

Perrier gasped dramatically. “And here I hoped I was your first.”

I chuckled.”Sorry to disappoint you, doll.”

“Grey is the resident tramp stamper, Honor,” Perrie said, smiling.

“I bet,” I heard Honor murmur. Even her voice was sweet.

For some reason her dry reply had my lips twitching. She sounded so unimpressed I wanted to laugh.

“Well he is pretty to look at, don’t you think?” Perrie continued.

I snorted at being referred to as pretty. That was the last thing one would call me. I knew I was way too rough looking to be called pretty. Of course I knew Perrie was just teasing. Still, my eyes glanced up to see Honor’s reaction.

She was regarding me with a shrewd look, before shrugging even though Perrie couldn’t see her with her head facing the other way.

“Not really,” she said.

Again I had to bite back the need to laugh. Perrie didn’t though, her body shaking. I paused, waiting for her to stop moving before continuing.

“Don’t be hurt, Grey. Honor is immune to the testosterone gene. She’s too busy to notice the opposite sex.”

I sensed Honor shift again, but kept my gaze away from her.

“I’m sure I’m not her type,” I said.

“What do you know about my type?”

I looked up, surprised at the snappy tone of her voice. I was even more surprised when I saw the hostile look in her eyes as she glared at me.

This time I didn’t fight the smile that lifted my mouth. This girl reminded me of a spitting kitten.

“I don’t shop at Abercrombie, and I don’t drive a BMW. I also don’t play varsity sports and hang out at Starbucks.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Wow, you sure have me figured out.”

I heard Perrie snicker as I kept my focus on Honor. I lifted my brows.

“Am I wrong?”

She crossed her arms, meeting my eyes challengingly. “Does it matter?”

I chuckled, leaning over Perrie again to keep working, otherwise we wouldn’t be getting out of here until midnight.

“My girl is way out of your league,” Perrie said. I could hear the pride and smile in her voice when she spoke. “She’s going to be a principle dancer one day.”

“Is that right?” I said.

“Yup. Honor is the most talented dancer I know.”

“That’s enough, Perrie,” Honor said, sounding embarrassed.

I glanced up at her. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not,” she said, sitting up straighter. “She just knows that I have no plans to be a principle dancer.”

“Why not? Isn’t that always the goal?”

“No,” she muttered.

Not seeming willing to elaborate, I dropped it. The two of them talked about family stuff until Perrie went back to asking me questions, leaving her cousin to sit there silently.

After an hour we took a quick break. Perrie got up and stretched a bit, as did I, my back aching from sitting in the same position for so long. Perrie walked over to one of the mirrors, leaving Honor and I alone at my station.

She eyed me, her mouth pursed as if she didn’t like what she saw. Not that I was surprised. Deny it all you want, but I knew I wasn’t her type. Maybe my description of her kind of guy was off, but I’d put money on it not being that far.

“You should put a hot pack on it,” she said.

I looked at her in confusion. She gestured toward me. “Your back. You should heat it for a while, and get off your feet.”

I just kept staring at her, surprised that she was being nice when she so clearly didn’t think highly of me. Which was odd. I wasn’t used to girls acting pissy with me. Especially the young ones.

She shrugged, a slight blush stealing across her cheeks that just made her cuter. “I’m used to sore muscles.”

My eyes ran down her. Now that I knew for a fact she was a dancer, I could appreciate all it did for her body. What I wouldn’t give to rub her sore muscles. If only she were a few years older.

“Ready?” Perrie said, returning.

I snapped out of my perusal and nodded, sitting back in my stool.

The rest of the appointment went quickly. Perrie was good at filling in the conversation, and I got away with quick replies while I focused on getting her done. Honor didn’t really speak much. But when she did, her voice had my body reacting for reasons I didn’t understand. I didn’t like it.

Finally I finished, cleaning it off before Perrie could go look at it.

“We’ll have to book another appointment to do the shading,” I said. “After this heals.”

“Okay,” she replied. “I’ll call and book one with Cat.”

She got up and went to the mirror, exclaiming how much she liked it.

“What do you think, cuz?” She asked, standing in front of Honor.

Honor stepped closer, her eyes slowly going over my work. And fuck it if I didn’t care what she thought.

“It’s really nice,” she finally said.

Then she did something I hadn’t been prepared for. She turned my way and smiled at me. A real, genuine smile that said she meant what she said.

Her smile almost knocked me over. It lit up her entire face, adding a gentleness to it that awoke some strange primitive instinct in me, insisting that nothing bad should ever happen to her.

Not your problem, G, I reminded myself.

I cleared my throat. “Thanks,” I managed.

The three of us headed to the counter, the only ones left now. Friday nights were usually my night to close up, so I always worked late. Perrie and I settled up, and I gave her my usual instructions on how to take care of the tattoo.

“Got it,” she said with a salute. “Honor, I just have to run to the bathroom quickly.”

“Okay,” she replied.

Perrie ran through the shop and down the back hall to where the washroom was. Now we were alone completely. I watched Honor shift from one foot to another before lifting her face to me.

We stared at one another for a moment before she hiked a thumb toward the door, taking a step back.

“I’m just going to wait outside,” she said.

“It’s late,” I pointed out.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

I walked around the counter and stopped in front of her.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to join you. If you’re going to wait out there, so will I.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t need you to babysit me. I can handle myself.”

I gave her a hard smile. “The people around here at this time aren’t your Abercrombie boys, Honor.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “Trust me,
Grey
, I’m used to the types out this late. And I can handle myself. You know nothing about me, so you can stop with the condescending attitude.”

I stepped closer to her. “Not all bad guys are going to look like me.”

Her eyes left mine to roam over my tatted arms. “I know that,” she said. “You don’t scare me anyway.”

I bit back a smile at all her bravado. Cocking an eyebrow, I took another step, our chests now only inches apart. “Oh no?”

She swallowed, her pink tongue snaking out to wet her lips as she shook her head.

I reached up, running my fingers into her hair as I cupped the side of her face, my palm gliding over smooth, soft skin. Before I could think better of it, I said, “you should be,” leaning in and brushing my lips against hers.

I was just trying to prove a point, but suddenly whatever that point was supposed to be eluded me. At the first touch I was instantly hungry for more. I kissed her again, harder this time, my other arm wrapping around her waist to pull her against me.

She fit perfectly, all her soft places against my hard ones. I licked at the seam of her lips, growling in appreciation when she willingly opened up to me.

Our tongues met, tangling together as the kiss grew more frantic. I didn’t know what had gotten into me, but I couldn’t seem to stop. There was some voice in my head repeating,
more, more, more
.

She bit at my lower lip, sucking it into her mouth. Fuck. I wanted this girl badly. I’d never had a kiss like this. The kind that had me wanting to literally rip her clothes off her, and take her right then and there - hard.

Holy shit. I couldn’t do this. What the hell was I thinking?

Just as abruptly as it started, it stopped. We both stared at each other in shock, our chests heaving in sync. Her delicate hands were fisted against my chest. Her lips swollen.