Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
No pills or smoke.
How often had that happened?
Never. Not one time since he’d started smoking, whenever that was. Hell, he could have been born with a blunt sticking out of his mouth.
He didn’t normally obey the laws of the road, especially in a place where the Disciples owned local law enforcement, but he absently turned on his blinker to indicate to Trace that their turn was ahead. He suspected Trace, a man who was on top of his game, probably knew the route and entrance pattern to his ink parlor.
The normalcy of returning to work felt damn good. He was glad to be back at his business full time. He wasn’t sure how Ollie’s son, Pecker, who he tapped to take a chunk of his business when shit went south—a.k.a. hurricane Cash had blown in—would feel about losing such a high paying gig, but he didn’t give a shit about that either.
Seconds later, he pulled up to the front of the warehouse doors, relieved to see his old man hadn’t arrived yet.
Millie was there though. She stepped out the front door of his parlor. The curiosity on her face grew as Trace pulled in next to him. She came all the way out the door, staring hard at Dev.
“What’s changed? I thought this was Pecker’s shift.” As she asked the question, her attention shifted to Trace. Though Millie was a mom, she’d had her kid young, which meant she wasn’t that old. He spotted the second she sucked her tummy in and pushed out her boobs. He couldn’t help the chuckle. Probably a reaction Trace got from the ladies on the regular. No doubt due to his heavy dose of swagger, but that pretty face and rocking body weren’t bad either.
Had he not found Cash, he might have tried to tap Trace’s ass. He suspected there were some bisexual tendencies in Trace’s DNA, but Cash was far more attractive.
He cocked his head at the idea of being faithful. When had monogamy become his thing?
Of course, he and Cash were monogamous.
Right? They’d had that conversation. He furrowed his brow. Maybe not.
But he sucked on Cash’s cock every single day like it was a fucking Blow Pop. That equaled monogamy. Right?
He nearly groaned out loud as he realized the flaw in his assumptions.
Cash had to know they didn’t mess around on each other. Ever.
Red hot anger flashed through him at rocket speed, and he fisted his hand. Cash better fucking know they were faithful.
Oh shit, the racing thoughts were back in his head.
He looked over at Trace.
Trace-the-bodyguard was hot. Annoyingly nice looking, especially with the grin he gave Millie.
“Meet Trace. He’s takin’ the second chair.”
“Does Cash know?” Millie asked as if that should even matter.
He was his own man. Devilman to be precise. Nobody told him what to do. Not ever. He dropped the kickstand in place and tore off his sunglasses.
Goddamn. The fucking curse words were all right there at the tip of his tongue.
Fucking hell, he kicked a leg over his bike.
“Yeah,” he finally answered. Since her laser-beam stare focused on him, she paused to judge the sincerity of his answer, then nodded and stuck out her hand to Trace. He eagerly shook it.
“Dev told me great things about you. Be patient with me. I’m in apprentice mode.” Trace might as well have rubbed his body in sugar and offered her a taste with the silly grin she gave. If she giggled, he’d puke right there in the parking lot.
“Does this mean Pecker’s off the schedule?” she asked happily like she’d magically turned into a ray of fucking sunshine.
Oh hell, he was back to being contrary.
Why had Cash ever thought this was a good fucking idea?
He stared at Millie who continued to smile at Trace. Their handshake was lasting a long time.
Holy shit, he’d fallen under Trace’s spell too. Last night, they’d spent hours talking over Dev’s life. What he did, how he did it. Trace soaked up the intel like a sponge. That meant Trace got a free lesson in tattoo design. Dev gave nothing away for free.
“Come inside and fawn over him there,” Dev said over his shoulder as he started toward the parlor. “We’re gonna give him a day, see how he does before reschedulin’ Peck. He’ll sit with me while I work today. This afternoon, he’s gonna ink over Tena’s name on my chest. We came up with a design last night. Can you give him a tour of the buildin’ then show him where you keep everything? I want you to sit with us as he gets started on me then sit with him as he inks this week.”
“Sure,” she said, as if that were the best idea ever. He glanced over his shoulder to see her walking side by side with Trace as they followed Dev.