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Wicked glanced up from her work to see Thorne McAllister, her black panther Shifter landlord. His presence made her shiver, and he wasn’t even inside yet. He had parked across the street. As he made his way toward her shop, his tall, broad frame moved with sleek, stalking precision, and she suddenly felt like his prey. She glanced down to see she wasn’t even wiping the area she had tattooed, too focused on the hotness of the man heading her way. Rolling her eyes, she wiped the mixture of ink and blood away from the tattoo she was working on.
The door opened, but she refused to look up. She needed to get her shit together, look uninterested, and well... hell, get her magic under control. A glittery spark left her fingertips, indicating she was very interested in the man walking through her door, smelling like the outdoors. She couldn’t quite put her finger on the aroma, but it was a wild woodsy kind of smell. She rolled her eyes again as she swiped harder than she meant to.
“Hey!” The man jerked. “That’s a little tender.”
“Sorry.” Wicked bit her lip, embarrassed that the newcomer could make her forget how badass she was supposed to be, and how uncaring. She made damn sure she shot that out to the universe and anyone who came near her space. “But you did pick the ribs, not me,” she added in her uncaring voice.
Hearing Thorne chuckle, she glanced up. “Can I help you?”
His eyes flared as they roamed to her lips, then back to her hazel eyes. “Porky said he came by for the rent and you refused to pay.”
“And Porky would be correct.” Wicked turned to add more ink to her machine, clicked it on and began to work, totally dismissing Thorne. Porky worked for Thorne whenever Thorne was out of town, but Wicked didn’t like working with Porky. He was a rude asshole who made her skin crawl with his beady-eyed leers.
“I’m here to collect.” His voice was closer and sounded sexier, dammit, and damn him.
“Well, have a seat. I’ll be done soon.” She didn’t stop her machine, didn’t even look up; she just kept on working.
To her dismay, Thorne didn’t have a seat. No, he walked right over and stood directly in front of her on the other side of the man getting tattooed. If she glanced up a tiny bit, her eyes would be level with his very impressive crotch. Do not look up, she told herself repeatedly.
“You’re really good,” Thorne observed from his viewing position. “Damn good. Seriously, to make a pin-up girl riding a rubber chicken look sexy as hell, you’d have to be good.”
She didn’t want to grin at his compliment, didn’t want to bathe in his praise, but dammit, she did, and it pissed her off. She didn’t have time to mess around with a man like him. He was a Shifter with attitude, and a freaking black panther. What the hell was he even doing in West Virginia? There were no panthers here. She really wanted to know all about him, and that scared her to death. The longest relationship she’d ever had was with her familiar, Bruce, and that was depressing. Men just didn’t get her, and she definitely didn’t get them. Hell, what was she thinking? No one ever got her, but then again, she never really gave anyone a chance. Rejection had been fluent in her life, so she did her best to veer away from all situations that could end up with rejection. A sad but true fact about her life.
“Yeah, all the guys said she was the best,” Chicken dude, who Wicked had no clue what his real name was and hadn’t even looked on his waiver to see, said through clenched teeth. “Not gentle, but the best, and to be tattooed by her, heck, I’ll take the pain.” He glanced back at her with a wink.
Wicked cocked her eyebrow in warning, reminding the guy of her threat as she revved Lenny up a notch, pointing it at him. He remembered real quick as he laid his head back down and shut up. She could have sworn she heard a growl, but when she glanced up at Thorne, he was simply frowning at the man.
“You almost finished?” Thorne asked, his eyes lifting to meet hers.
“Almost,” she replied, then began to work again. She knew she should just get up and grab the envelope with the rent so he would be on his way, but she didn’t and silently cursed herself for wanting him to stay. It was odd. Wicked didn’t like anyone hanging around when she tattooed—other than Bruce, but Bruce was usually busy licking his balls or jamming to his music.
She felt the heat from Thorne’s stare. It made her edgy to the point she was making mistakes. With a sigh, she wiggled her nose, and the tattoo was finished. She hated using her magic in that way and rarely did, but with Thorne practically breathing down her neck, she had no choice. She would not let anyone leave her shop with a bad tattoo.
Putting her machine down, she wiped the area clean and sat back, pleased with her work. It was the one thing she took pride in. Pushing away from the chair, she stood.
“There’s a mirror over there,” she told the guy as he sat up.
“That’s it?” he said, amazed. “You’re done.”
She nodded, then glanced at Thorne, who gave her a half grin, knowing she had used her magic to finish the tat.
Chicken dude stood and walked over to the mirror, looking at his artwork. “Holy shit!” He turned this way and that. “Seriously, holy shit! It’s amazing.”
Wicked busied herself cleaning up, too on edge to be pleased with the praise. Thorne’s presence was making her a nervous wreck. After he was finished admiring himself and his tattoo in the mirror, Wicked made sure the area was cleaned before applying ointment and then the plastic wrap. Her breast touched the man’s back, and he made a noise in the back of his throat. Wicked pulled away quickly, embarrassed, but she needed to make sure she had covered the area completely.
“Make sure you take this off after an hour. Don’t leave it on longer than that.” She grabbed a sheet of paper and handed it to him. “Follow these instructions without fail.”
He looked down at the paper with a nod before grabbing his shirt. “There’s something missing.”
Wicked was doing her best to ignore Thorne, who watched her every move, so the man’s statement threw her. “What?” She frowned, looking at the paper.
“Your phone number.” He grinned with a wink.
Thorne pushed himself away from the wall and stepped between the newly tattooed idiot and Wicked. “He pay you?” Thorne’s voice was harsh.
“Yes,” Wicked said, wondering what the hell was going on.
“Get the fuck out.” He turned the guy and ushered him to the door. “And don’t come back.”
Wicked’s mouth gaped in shock as she watched Thorne manhandle one of her customers out the door. The guy was being a dumbass, but she dealt with dumbasses every day. This was nothing new.
“Excuse me!” She slammed her hand on her hip, glaring at Thorne who had just turned toward her.
“The guy was an asshole,” Thorne said with a shrug.
“I’ll second that,” Bruce said as he strutted lazily across the floor. “What’s up, Thorne?”
“Not much, Bruce,” Thorne replied, but his eyes were still on Wicked. “How you been?”
“Ah, not too bad. Doing the ‘familiar’ thing and licking my nuts. All in a day’s work I guess you could say.” Bruce jumped up on the ledge of the window and made himself comfortable.
Wicked threw her head back and stared at the ceiling, asking the Goddess for strength to deal with pain-in-the-ass males. She was cursed with them for sure. “You guys done shooting the breeze? Or should I just come back later?”
“Hey, it’s your shop.” Bruce yawned as he stretched. “Do what you want. But first, before you do that, can you get me some chow. The tummy is doing some growling and....”
Bruce’s voice faded as he got a look at Wicked glaring at him.
“How about I feed you to him.” Wicked nodded toward a grinning Thorne.
“I don’t eat cats,” Thorne replied seriously. “Unless they piss me off.”
“Noted.” Bruce gave a nod.
“So why did you refuse to give Porky the rent?” Thorne changed the subject.
“Because my rent is due today, not three days ago when Porky showed up,” Wicked answered. She turned her back on him and walked toward the counter. “Plus, he was rude. He’s lucky he walked out of here intact.”
“He was an asshole,” Bruce added, flipping his ears with his paw when a fly buzzed by his head. “I had to talk Wicked down from turning him into a pig to fit his name. But pigs can’t be Shifters, so that would have caused an upheaval and a total shitstorm. And how is it a fox Shifter is called Porky? That’s a little fucked up.”
Wicked bent down, ignoring the conversation on the other side of the counter. She punched in the combination to her safe and opened the door. She grabbed her rent money and put the five hundred she just made in its place. Closing the door, she stood.
“Don’t send him back to collect rent.” She placed the envelope on the counter instead of handing it to him. “Because next time he comes in here acting like some badass with attitude, I will turn him into the pig he is and reap the consequences.”
Thorne stalked toward her slowly, his eyes narrowing as he stopped. The only thing between them was the counter. “No worries.” He leaned toward her. “I’ll be the one collecting from here on out.” His hand slammed on the rent money, and he slid it toward him. A smile tipped the corner of his full lips as he gave her a slow wink then turned, walking toward the door.
“Later, Thorne,” Bruce said as he leaned his head back, closing his eyes.
“You best watch licking them nuts so much, my friend,” Thorne said, stepping out the store. “It’ll make your dick limp.”
If Wicked wasn’t still shocked by Thorne’s wink, she would have laughed at the comical expression of horror on Bruce’s face at Thorne’s warning.