Under His Ink Page 8

  “I can’t let you drag me down like you did last time.” Her head dropped, and her shoulders rounded. Screw giving her space. I crossed the distance between us in one step and put my hand on the spot where her shoulders met her neck. The tension there vibrated under my hand.

  “I have no intentions of dragging you down. I have no intentions of hurting you. If anything, you have so much more of a hold on me than you can ever know.”

  “I think maybe you should have someone else finish the work. Most of the identifying tattoos are covered at this point. No one else would know,” she said, barely above a whisper.

  This was not going to end this way. I stepped closer, pressing my chest against her back and tugging her against me.

  “Don’t do this,” I said into her hair. She smelled like strawberries and sunshine. I imagined eating them off her body, and my cock hardened in my jeans. Her body jerked, and I knew she felt it pressed against her. Remembered how good we’d been together. Our time together that replayed in my mind every early morning in bed to the point where it drove me to jerk myself off or risk going insane.

  “I’ll be here tomorrow and every other night until we’re finished.” I dropped a light kiss on the crease of her neck. I felt the tremble run through her before I stepped away and left, before I pushed her so much further than she was ready to go. But I wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer.

  Soon she’d know I had no intentions of leaving her behind once she was finished leaving her mark on me, because her mark went well beyond skin-deep.

  10

  Dahlia

  He shook the bag the moment I opened the door, eyeing me cautiously.

  “Did you bring sour cream?” I moved out of the way and locked the door behind him. He glanced back at me like he was offended. I was just going to pretend like the night before hadn’t happened. The one where he left me trembling and achy standing at the sink in my studio. The night I’d been seconds from turning in his arms and forgetting all the promises I’d made to myself since he walked back through my door.

  “You think I don’t know how to serve you pelmeni by now? Of course there’s sour cream.”

  He took the spread out on the front desk, and I pulled up a stool. My mouth watered as I popped one of the crispy, meat-filled dumplings into my mouth. They were the perfect distraction so I didn’t have to look at him. I moaned as the flavor exploded in my mouth. The temptation was strong to devour the entire platter. But I was nice and offered Ivan a few.

  He chuckled and pushed the platter back toward me.

  “Knock yourself out. I got these for you. I already ate.” He stared at me, but I didn’t care. I kept my head down. These dumplings were so good. After having the crispy-on-the-outside, tender-on-the-inside dumplings almost every day that week, I still wasn’t sick of them. I practically kicked my feet against the rung of the stool as I bounced and inhaled nearly all of them.

  “Where did you find these? I searched all over the city, eating at some seriously terrible places trying to find pelmeni as good as these.” It was a question I asked him every time, even though I knew the answer.

  “It’s my secret and I won’t give it up.”

  “You seem to have a lot of those if I remember correctly.” The air in the room shifted from easy, carefree to tense as bits of our past resurfaced. I kicked myself for bringing it up. I never learned.

  “There is nothing I can say to you to make up for what happened. Nothing. But everything that happened wasn’t because I didn’t care about you. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to be with you. It was a fucked-up situation that I wish had never happened.” He leaned forward, and I leaned back. Like a tango of avoidance.

  “Which part do you wish never happened? Meeting me? Dating me? Leaving me? Getting me locked up?”

  “Only the last two, Dahl.”

  “Why did you leave me that night, Ivan?” I asked, throwing my fork down. If we were going to do this, then let’s do this. “You like to think of the good times we had together. The hot fucking. The sneaking around. Do you know what the first thing I think of is when I think of our time together?”

  He sat there stone-faced.

  “I think of the moment the cops showed up and you and Alexei raced out of there, leaving me behind. Leaving me there to get arrested.”

  “Dahl,” he said, reaching for my hand. I jerked it away and took a step back.

  “No,” I said, my throat tight. I cursed the angry tears that welled in my eyes. “You left me there. You left me there, and I got arrested. My dad wanted to teach me a lesson and let them throw the book at me. And then he died. I didn’t get to go to his funeral.” I blinked back the building tears. I was not going to cry about this. I needed to hold on to that anger because it was the only thing keeping me from falling into Ivan’s gravitational pull. The only thing keeping my feet firmly on the ground.

  “You don’t think it ate at me to leave you there? That I didn’t want to race back there and protect you? I couldn’t be caught with you, Dahlia.” He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging on his thick, light strands. “I was on their radar. That was why I was in your town in the first place. We’d all been warned to keep our noses clean. If you were caught with me, that would have put you right in the middle of my mess. Being caught with someone known for organized crime and criminal activity. Do you think it would have gone better for you?”

  “It seemed to go pretty shitty for me in the end.” Some of the fire faded away with his words. My dad had an inkling of what I was up to, but being caught with Ivan would have made things a lot worse. Abandonment wasn’t something I handled well. Being left behind, calling for him as the police closed in, was the stuff of my nightmares for a long time. That, followed by the visit from his uncle being a close second. A shudder raced through me as I stared at the center of his chest, not wanting to meet his eyes.

  “I know.” My heart pounded as he stepped forward. “I had no idea your dad would do that. I figured you were a cop’s daughter—they’d let you go with a warning, and that would be the end of it. If I’d known it was going to turn out that way, I’d have found a way to get you out of there. I’d have done whatever I needed to, to protect you.” The fierceness in his eyes told me he was telling the truth. But what did it change?

  “But you didn’t.” My voice cracked, and I hated myself for it. That even after all this time, he could bring out these emotions in me. Make me feel things I’d been so good at avoiding for the past ten years. I cleared my throat.

  “Let’s get started.” He reached for me again, but I evaded his hands.

  “We’re not done talking,” he said, stepping closer.

  “Yes, we are. Just sit in the chair, and I’ll get to work, unless you want to leave.” I gestured to the door. He shook his head and lifted his shirt up, exposing all that skin and dumping the shirt on the counter. His wide frame and hard, muscled body on full display in front of me. I tried not to look, not to reach out and touch him without the gloves between us. That would send us down a path I wasn’t ready for.

  My hands trembled as I set up my station and got everything together. Stalling, so I could compose myself and get through this session. I needed to finish it. I needed to help him wash away his past, and maybe it would help me wash away some of my own.

  He sat still as a statue in the chair. I prepped him.

  “How’s the pain from yesterday?”

  “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” His voice came out gruff and stiff. I took a deep breath and dived back in. I worked on the other shoulder. The fiery wing melted away the dark ink below, the ashes it rose out of helping me cover some of the darkest ink on his body. As I worked and covered, slowly but surely, inked away portions of his past that he wanted to forget, I relaxed. This was my medium. This was one of the few places I felt truly comfortable. Like I could do anything with my tattoo gun and ink at the ready. Something that only lived in my client’s or my imagination could come out and be br
ought to life.

  “I’ll extend the wing down lower once I’ve worked more on your back.”

  “You have my complete trust. I know whatever you do will be a masterpiece.”

  I ducked my head and pressed on, trying not to let his words fill me with as much happiness as they did. Trust was never something that had come easily to him. Living in his world, I had to imagine it was more of a liability than anything. His own flesh and blood was a monster as far as I could tell. What was it like growing up with an uncle like that?

  My hand cramped up, and I massaged it between my fingers. I leaned over his shoulder at the same time he turned his head. His lips met mine, and a groan broke free. I knew I should pull away. Move, Dahlia. But I couldn’t. He tasted just like I remembered. Like sweet coffee. Just like he had in the dreams that haunted me on and off for the past decade. I knew they were dreams now. For a while I’d thought they were nightmares, but from the throbbing in my core from this simple touch, I knew they were definitely dreams.

  Ivan’s lips were on mine, demanding more. Other kisses usually started out as teasing, flirtations that heated up as both people got into it. Ivan’s kisses were nothing short of a hostile takeover and in the very best of ways. There was no question. There wasn’t a check-in to make sure this was what I wanted. He knew it was, and he demanded my pleasure.

  Every inch of him was gruff and raw. His tongue pushed its way into my mouth, and his conquest was only beginning. I forgot everything. I forgot about my rules. I forgot about the shop. I forgot how angry I was with him and how much he’d hurt me. His lips and tongue painted me a new existence.

  His hands dug into my hair with his fingers raking across my scalp. Bliss. A shiver traveled down my spine, and I squeezed my thighs together, trying to relieve some of the pressure building there.

  I moaned into his mouth, and he took that opening to deepen the kiss. His tongue danced in my mouth, and made a promise of the way his body still remembered mine. How all those times we’d had together hadn’t been forgotten in our years apart.

  I ran my hand across his chest, every muscle there tight and smooth. The first time my hands were on him. Truly on him, beyond my work. Completely unprofessional, but I didn’t give a shit. The power of him nearly knocked me off my feet. It wasn’t until my ass plopped down on the counter that I realized he’d picked me up. Wrapping my legs around his waist, his demands grew more intense as his fingers sunk into my flesh.

  The thought of denying him never even crossed my mind. I wanted this. I needed this. To lose myself for a bit. To feel more than responsibility, worry and sadness. I covered it well for everyone in my life. Rachel, the guys in the shop—I’d kept this side of myself from them. Ivan ripped me wide open and exposed all that and made me remember my past and helped me forget all at the same time. Forget everything other than us right then and there.

  It had been so long since someone made me feel like that. Took my breath away from a kiss and their hands on my skin. It was him. He was the last one to bridge my body and soul. To make them both cry out for more. No matter how much I fought it, I knew what we had wasn’t some first-love facade. It was us. It was him. It had always been him. I ground against him. The outline of his cock in his jeans was just enough to tantalize and tease me. His hand dipped under the hem of my shirt.

  He murmured against my lips in Russian as he ran his hands up my spine. His fingers splayed across my back under my shirt, before running along my side and squeezing my breasts, teasing the edges of the cups of my bra. I arched my back, pressing even more of myself into him.

  The thrumming beat of my heart was in time with the throbbing in my pussy. That deep fire I’d pretended wasn’t burning and tried to ignore, raged and threatened to consume me. I wanted his touch everywhere. His fingers traced a path across my stomach to my back. Another set of shivers ran through me, and he growled, breaking our kiss and moving along my jawline. My nails raked along his hips, and he hissed as I tilted my head to give him access. He kissed his way down my neck, and I yelped when he nipped me there before laving the spot with his tongue.

  He pressed me against him, grinding me on his lap, and my moans fell from my lips. I didn’t even try to hold them back. The friction between us got close to a crescendo I hadn’t had with anyone else in a long time. We hadn’t even taken our clothes off. I reached up and threaded my fingers through his hair, running my nails along his scalp, giving as good as I got. He sucked in a sharp breath and nipped my bottom lip. He palmed my ass, squeezing it so hard that I let out a hiss. Tugging his head back, I stared at him, his gray eyes staring right back. One of his hands came off my ass and was back in my hair, coaxing me right back into his gravitational pull. Something I didn’t know if I was ready to escape.

  I slung my arm over his shoulders, and he hissed. I jerked back, remembering just where we were. And what I was doing and who I was doing it with. It felt so good that I’d lost myself. I wanted to lose myself. I hated holding back, but I was there dry humping him after I’d told him this was strictly off limits. A wave of embarrassment rolled through me as I snatched my hands away. Ivan kept going, his hands back on my ass and his teeth back at my neck, making his mark in more ways than one.

  “Ivan,” I said, pushing on his chest. He glanced up at me before dipping back down. I moaned as he ran his lips over my jaw. So easy to let this happen. To give myself over to him, but I couldn’t. He clouded my judgment in the worst ways. I shook my head. “Ivan. Stop. We’ve got to stop.”

  His head snapped up, the dark gray almost completely gone as his pupils dilated.

  His nostrils flared. He stared at me for an agonizingly long time. I almost wished he’d keep going. But he just gave me a sharp nod and took a step back. Not completely disentangling himself from me, but I could at least think clearly when his hands were on my jean-clad thighs and not on my skin. When his lips were at least a foot away from my face and not blazing a trail across my skin.

  I’d just reset the clock on the Ivan invasion of my mind, and I didn’t know if I’d be able to start it over again.

  11

  Ivan

  Leaving the shop after finally getting my first taste of Dahlia after ten years was nearly impossible. Only her words stopped me. I needed to show her I’d changed. I left the shop and waited for her to leave after locking up. Luca’s guys were in a black sedan parked an acceptable distance from the shop. Anyone on the street might not have known who they were, but I did. I’d been taught from a young age lots of things you needed to survive in my world.

  I walked over to their car.

  “I’ll handle her walk home.”

  They nodded and drove off without a word. She came out of the shop a little while later and locked up. I gritted my teeth as she stuck her earbuds into her ears and started her walk home. It was past two in the morning, and she was walking and listening to music, completely exposing herself.

  I kept a safe distance until she made it to her building. I’d known the address, but I hadn’t been here before. A light flicked on a few stories up and I crossed the street to get a better look. The window behind the fire escape of her apartment was covered in flowers. I watched her for way too long, moving from room to room in the apartment, turning the lights off as she made it to her bedroom. The evening chill set in for me.

  After long enough that anyone paying attention probably would have called the police for a suspected stalker, I finally left. I’d had a taste of her, but I knew it wasn’t going to be enough. I wanted more, and I’d do whatever I needed to do to get it. If she wanted a truckload of pelmeni, I’d make it happen, but it was happening.

  Sergei’s message blared on my phone the minute I rolled over in bed, and I nearly chucked the phone when I saw it, but I couldn’t ignore Sergei. Not now. He’d threatened to send someone after me if I tried to ignore him, and I knew he’d keep his word. I sent a message letting him know I was coming. And another to Alexei. We still hadn’t heard anything from Elena, e
ven after practically stalking the mail. Not knowing how long it would take her to get here had me even more on edge.

  Ensuring that Dahlia was safe eclipsed almost everything else other than the same for Elena. But with Dahlia I was here. Sitting in front of her almost every day other than the times when my skin needed to heal. But each scar on my skin healed something else in me. The plans Alexei and I had for Sergei looked less appealing as the days wore on. I’d be the one Alexei and Elena would look to handle the bratva once he was gone.

  Alexei knew I wanted out, but he also knew I was the one who needed to step up. I needed to ensure that the rest of my family and Dahlia would be safe. Leaving her again was not possible. Covering over everything about my past one session at a time meant staying in would always be a risk. These tattoos were earned. A symbol of pride and devotion to the bratva. Desecrating them by having her tattoo over them was like shouting from the rooftops that I had no honor and didn’t want my place in the family. I’d known I was fucked the minute I saw her picture, and it had never been clearer than right then.

  Igor practically growled as I passed him on the way to Sergei’s office. Ever the loyal lapdog. His arm was in a sling, not that he was any less useless without it. I knocked on the door and pushed it open without waiting for an answer.

  Sergei slid back in his chair and glared at me as I sat in the high-backed chair in front of him. Igor took a spot beside the door. I kept him in my peripheral vision. Sergei snapped his fingers, and a light-brown-haired woman’s head popped out from under his desk. Sergei zipped up his pants as he stood. I did my best to ensure that my imagination didn’t wander to what had been going on under that desk. A shudder of revulsion shot through me.

  “Get out. I told you to be faster,” he said, dismissing her. She scurried out of the office and slammed the door behind her.

  “Why do you keep disappearing on me, Ivan?” He sat on the edge of his desk in front of me.