Cyn ignored her. “So, who cares if it takes a little work?”
“Luscious alert!” Glory sounded positively giddy.
Tabby and Cyn peeked out from behind the curtain as a man walked past Living Art. He paused, looking in the window at the flash—the artwork depicting their most popular tattoos—they’d taped up. He was an absolute to-die-for hunk of a man. His light brown skin glistened over muscles that made Tabby’s mouth water. He was bald, and from this distance she couldn’t tell if it was a style choice or nature that made him that way. Some sort of tattoo circled the biceps closest to the window, but Tabby was too far away to tell what it was. Something about the way he moved had every one of her senses sitting up and begging. “Dibs.”
Cyn poked her. “Bitch. What if he likes the taste of Mexican instead of Hushpuppies, huh?”
Tabby giggled. “You are so bad.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” Tabby looked back to find the man peering in the window. One dark brow rose as he caught them looking at him, a smile flirting around his luscious-looking mouth. Oh, the things she would love to have that mouth do to her.
Tabby ducked back behind the curtain. “Shit. I think he caught us.”
Glory darted behind the curtain. “Ohmigod!” She collapsed, laughing. “Oh shit.”
“You think he’ll come in?”
“I don’t know.” The sound of the bell brought on a quickly smothered giggle. “Oh hell. Glory?”
“On it, but now I’m calling dibs.” Glory rushed out before either Tabby or Cyn could protest.
“Greedy bitch.”
Cyn bopped her on the head with the brush. “Look who’s talking.” She picked up the bottle of bleach and a comb. “Now lie down and hold still. I have some roots to kill.”
Tabby sat back in the chair and wished that she’d waited five more minutes to ask Cyn to fix her hair. It could have been her out there checking out the hottie instead of sitting in Cyn’s chair getting bleached.
Bunny entered the tattoo parlor, pulled by the sight of bright, rainbow-colored hair and pretty, feminine smiles. He looked around and smiled. This place was pretty nice.
The tattoo parlor had that feminine touch to it without being the homage to estrogen that Wallflowers place had been. The walls were a bright aqua color, displaying the flash to advantage. The women had hung a nice, big art piece behind the counter that was rather more than flash. It looked like a giant, full-color pair of dragons, one red, one blue, circling together in a yin-yang, but was obviously a full-color tattoo inked onto someone’s back. The counter was made completely of glass and housed more flash in one section, both black-and-white and color, and jewelry for piercing different body parts. He eyed the Prince Albert and shuddered, resisting the urge to cup himself protectively. The flash in the windows and on the walls was in silver frames, making it look even more like art.
Two large books lay open on the counter, bound in brown leather and containing more tattoos. The floor was wood, a dark ebony stain that would hide spilled ink.
Looking down the long length of the corridor, he could see four curtained-off cubicles, probably where the women worked. At the very end was a last curtained-off area marked “Employees Only”.
The women, if they were the owners, had made the place look both welcoming and classy. He could see both men and women coming in here and being comfortable.
The tan-colored chairs near the window looked soft and inviting, but he had no interest in them. What he did want was down the aisle, behind the employees-only area. He could smell her, and she smelled wonderful . It was the same scent that had tickled him when he’d opened the door to Living Art Tattoos; a sassy, succulent scent that drew him like nothing else ever had. He’d almost barreled into the back room to find the owner of that scent when a blue-haired girl stepped out from behind the curtain and intercepted him. She brought with her the scent of the three women, but the citrusy scent that was hers alone was strongest, and not the one he was looking for. Curly, pale blue locks fell almost to the woman’s waist. Bright blue eyes almost the same shade as her hair watched him with a mix of desire and sweetness that would have attracted Bunny on any other day. She was looking at him like he was a tall glass filled with chocolate mousse and she happened to have a very long spoon.
“Welcome to Living Art. I’m Glory. Can I help you with anything?” She batted her lashes at him, but Bunny wasn’t interested. It was disappointing, too. She looked just like one of the heroines in the manga he liked to read, all big eyes and hair and sweet, innocent smiles. He could see himself spending a pleasant evening or two in her bed and finding out just how innocent she really was.
But that tantalizing scent tickled his nostrils again, sending a definite message to his cock to rise and shine. The gleam in the blue-haired girl’s eyes said she’d noticed and approved. Bunny backed out of pinching reach. “Excuse me, but the other two ladies who were in here. Where are they?”
The woman made a face, disappointment lighting her features. The flirtatiousness disappeared. “Cyn and Tabby are in the back. Cyn owns the shop. Would you like to speak to her?”
He had to come up with something plausible. “Actually, I was thinking of getting a tattoo.” He had a few already, so another one would be no big deal. A lot of women seemed to enjoy tracing the spiral triskelion design on his left biceps, the dark angel on his right shoulder. He had a black-inked, woodcut-style tailed bear with colored stars for the constellation Ursa Major on his lower back.