Singe (Men of Inked Heatwave #8) - Chelle Bliss Page 0,16

starts with Don’t get mad, but. Not a goddamn thing. Especially when it comes from the mouth of a Gallo.

“But what?” I ask, folding my arms across my chest.

“She may be here for a little more than a tattoo,” she says, her voice rising on the word may.

“Lily,” I warn, but I can’t find it in my heart to be pissed at my cousin.

“Oh, hush. She’s dropping in for a consult today, but I think she’s the one for you—or at least someone who can ease you into a relationship or the idea of being in one.”

“The one?”

“She’s perfect, Mello, and you two had chemistry.”

“Had?”

“You met her a few times, but she’s been hanging out with us and comes to book club, where we don’t always talk about books.”

Oh, goodie. A Lily book-club girl. She probably wants a rose on her arm or something like that. It’s what most newbies to tattoos always get as their first one.

“She’d better not be someone I’ve slept with already.”

Lily laughs, waving her hand. “Oh God, no. You only met a few times, but she’s going to be great at giving me feedback so we can move you in the right direction. We have to work out a few of your chinks first.”

“Kinks or chinks?” I ask, waggling my eyebrows, trying to find humor in a situation where there is none.

“Your issues,” she explains, sucking the fun right out of the possibilities.

But then again, how much fun could I have with a bookish chick? Probably not much since I don’t enjoy sniffing books and discussing the easter eggs an author drops in as clues.

“I don’t have issues when it comes to the ladies.”

“Uh, yeah, you do when it comes to commitment. And she’s going to help me help you learn how to slow things down.” Lily turns her head toward the front of the shop. “One more minute, sweetie,” she calls out before turning back to me.

“No rush. I’m sitting here finishing my book. One minute, one hour, it’s all good.”

Fucking fabulous.

She carries books with her, and time doesn’t seem to matter to her when she’s licking her finger, swiping the pages. Sounds like a rip-roaring good time.

I roll my tongue piercing between my teeth and over my lip, trying to stop myself from raising my voice. “Are you fucking serious with this?”

“Totally.” She nods, a huge smile on her face, looking like she does at Christmas. “I’ve put a lot of thought into this. I can’t fix you unless I know what’s broken, and she’s perfect for this.” She stands but doesn’t leave, just claps her hands together like she’s about to open the Christmas present she’s been dying to get her hands on. “She’s like the romance whisperer, and since you two know each other…she was my first choice.”

I peer up, trying not to look at her like she’s a total weirdo goofball, but she so is. “Why is she perfect, Lily?”

“Well,” she says, biting her lip like she knows a secret I don’t. “Because she’s drop-dead gorgeous.”

“Debatable and subjective,” I mutter.

“She used to be a model.”

“Then she’s not that pretty if she used to be.” I cringe when I say those words because I’m being a dick.

Lily leans over, hands on her hips, sticking her face right in mine. “No, jagoff. She used to model full time but got sick of all the travel. She is literally going to make you drool.”

“Okay,” I snort, but my gaze moves toward the front of the shop, where there’s only a single red shoe tip visible. “Why else? ’Cause I’ve fucked beautiful girls before, babe.”

She clicks her tongue, chuckling. “You’re not going to fuck her, Mello.”

“Hot chicks dig me. Hell, all chicks dig me. I’ll have her under me in a day.”

“She’s a virgin,” Lily blurts out.

It’s like a slap in the face and a challenge at the same time. My eyes widen, my heart beats a little faster, and my dick gets completely hard. “She’s a what?” I whisper, swallowing my tongue because this could be bad, really bad—or maybe good, so, so very good. “You’re shitting me.”

“I’m not shitting you.” She cocks her head, giving me a small laugh. “So, no matter how hard you try, you’re not getting in her pants. But she’s promised me to take great notes. Think of her as your teacher for the next month.”

“You are totally shitting me.” Jesus-fucking-Christ, this is going from bad to worse, sounding more like school than a good time. “And what

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