Tagged Steel (Men of Steel #6) - MJ Fields Page 0,39
pair are night and day. Maze welcomes them with a kind smile, holding each one’s chair as they sit. He’s a big guy with a soft heart.
“What brings you two in today?” Ranger asks.
“My daughter’s eighteenth birthday.” The woman in her thirties blushes as she looks at Ranger, who’s clearly ex-military. His arms are heavily tattooed with every type of weaponry you could imagine. Aside from that, he’s a walking Ken doll. “I had her at sixteen. No one thought we’d make it. She graduated high school, so I’d say we made it.”
“Congratulations.” Maze nods. “You should be proud.”
I watch Ranger look at Maze with concern. Then back at them. “So, what are you thinking?”
She smiles. “We were hoping for some input.”
“The same but different,” her daughter adds.
“How about Ranger does one, and Maze the other? The same but different artist interpretations.” I smile.
Sitting back I watch as Ranger and Maze draw pictures, shielded from the client and the camera, as they ask personal preferences of mother and daughter. When they finish, both have the other’s favorite flower—a rose and a sunflower. The daughter has Mom in script beside the stem, and on the opposite side, You Gave Me Life. The mother has her daughter’s name, and opposite the name is, You Taught Me Love. Both women cry when they see what the other chose as script.
It’s a beautiful moment, one I’m so glad I am able to witness. Over the years, I have witnessed many of these moments, but this one is different.
After being given their aftercare information, they hug the two men.
I still get a kick out of how people who literally wear a piece of them on their skin are viewed as bad boys. Even these men, ones with criminal records, have huge hearts and enormous talent.
I look over at Tags and see him in deep concentration as he works on the daughter. He looks up briefly and gives me a wink. I’m sure it was so quick no one else but me realized it, a millisecond, but I will definitely scold him for it later.
Or maybe not.
Tags
The day went a fuck of a lot smoother than I expected. When we left the studio, I made damn sure Bella was in the same vehicle as I was. I also made damn sure to snag her phone from her and send myself a text. Why? Because I have plans that involve one Isabella Steel’s pussy and my tongue. But first, I need to turn on the charm. She deserves the charm. She more than deserves it.
I shoot her a text.
Me: Sweets, 1819 70th Street. One hour. Palm trees and a cool breeze. ~ Tag, you’re it.
Bella: I can’t be summoned like a booty call. No… ~ B.S.
Me: No B.S., I like that idea. Stop playing hard to get. That’s another two nights without getting off. ~ Tag, you’re … not getting it.
“Then, why would I come?”
I look over to see her standing on the balcony. She’s freshly showered, wrapped in a towel, and looks flushed. The towel wrapped around her hair isn’t snug and is falling off.
“Did you just get out of the shower, feeling all powerful because you’re naked, throw attitude because of it, then realized you fucked up another chance of getting off and ran out here to make it right?”
She scrunches up her face and averts eye contact. “Pft, n—”
“Don’t lie to me, sweet treat, or you’re not getting the tongue tonight.”
“Don’t treat me like a piece of”—she pauses—“ass. And—”
I hold my phone up. “I’m gonna delete this text, pretend it never happened, then try again.”
I type out another text.
Me: Sweets, 1819 70th Street. One hour. Palm trees and a cool breeze. ~ Tag, you’re it.
As I walk back into my room, my phone vibrates.
Bella: Fine. ~ B.S.
Standing outside of Shucker Waterfront Bar and Grill, I look down at my watch. She’s a minute late. Any other woman pulled this shit, I’d have left. This one has me sweating and in a fucking suit, leather shoes and shit, clearly trying to impress her and feeling like a fucking idiot.
I reach up to loosen my tie, because it’s hot as fuck outside, when a taxi pulls up.
When the door opens and I see her, black dress, short as fuck, with fuck-me heels on, I groan inwardly.
She doesn’t even look at me. She looks around, totally missing the fact that I’m right here.
A group of men are checking her out. Can’t say as I blame them, but