Pierced by Natasha Knight

 

     
     

     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter One
     
     
    She’d been considering coming into the tattoo parlor for some time. Anthony had noticed her park her car, get out and walk first toward, then past the shop for weeks now. Someone else might not have paid any attention, but Anthony did. He and his brother Joel owned the tattoo parlor on Fifth and Crescent with the huge picture window that overlooked the busy street. Joel, the younger of the two, worked a few hours a week. Anthony, at thirty-seven, had been tattooing for the last ten years and Chaos was his baby. He’d established Chaos four years ago, and now, after what seemed like ages, they finally had enough money saved up to renovate the place. But renovations meant a stop to business, or at least less business, so as Anthony worked on the shop, he had time to observe the passersby and this woman had caught his attention.
    Although she was not what most guys considered hot, Anthony found her sexy. She was small, maybe five feet, two inches tall, and had long, dark hair, a slim figure, and an incredible ass. In fact, that was what had caught his eye—her ass as she walked away from the shop that first time. A small waist that swelled into a nice pair of soft, round cheeks that he couldn’t help but imagine getting his hands on. The look in her eyes told him her heart pounded as she considered whether or not she had the guts to walk into a tattoo parlor with a guy like him inside.
    Anthony was about six feet, three inches tall. He worked out some and mostly just had a good, solid build; always had. He shaved his head bald but left a short layer of dark stubble on his face. His full-sleeve tattoos tended to scare off suburban women, which she definitely was. He guessed she was about thirty, thirty-two. She didn’t work down here, not dressed like she was. She wore tight faded jeans and a linen jacket most days. Likely patronizing the high-end shopping district located just two blocks away.
    And here she was again, her black Audi turning onto the wet street to find a parking space. Anthony kept working as a smile crept along his face. He had a feeling today was going to be the day.
    He watched out of the corner of his eye as she tried to fit her car into a tight spot along the street. Clearly parallel parking was not her forte, but she seemed determined. After three tries she finally succeeded, and stepped out of her car. A truck yielded to let her cross the busy lane and she did so, running without an umbrella through the heavy rain. He didn’t look away today; he wanted her to walk in. He wanted to work on her and hoped she’d want something intricate on some very private part of her body. He wanted his hands on her skin.
    The bell over the door rang as she opened it and Anthony turned, trying to look at her as he did everyone else who walked into the place.
    “Morning,” he said, climbing down from the ladder he was on. He was painting a mural along the wall and it was almost finished. Tribal art would cover all four walls soon, all black and white with one point of bright, powerful red. He liked it; it suited him.
    “Good morning,” she answered. Her voice fit with the rest of her: kind of nervous and quiet, coming out small. Anthony smiled as her eyes fixed on the tattoos that marked his arms and neck. He considered taking off his shirt, but knew she’d just go running right out the door that it had taken her weeks to walk through.
    “Are you open? I guess you’re renovating,” she said, looking around. Anthony wrapped his paintbrush in foil and wiped off his hands. The room was kind of a mess, but he had to move things around to get the walls painted. He’d left one table in the middle of the room for those clients who still came to get work done. For the most part, though, it was so quiet now that Joel didn’t even need to be at the shop.
    “We can work through the renovation. What can I do for you?” Anthony asked, coming a little closer. She