I sure as fuck didn’t expect that strange turn of events. What started as a casual tattoo job turned into something far better. After one touch on her leg, I knew there was no way I’d be getting any tattoos done today, not with this new shake in my hands.

Immediately, I went to her liability waiver, hoping there’d be a number there, which sounds like something a stalker would do, but she can’t just come in here and rock my whole day off axis like that and then disappear. But when I pull it off the counter, I read the name.

Hazel Whitaker.

What the...fuck?

She gave me a fake name. Everyone on Wickett knows Hazel Whitaker, and she sure as fuck is not her.

Standing behind the counter, staring out the door she left through, I hear the back door open. Logan greets me from the break room, but I don’t respond. My head is still spinning.

I still have her on my mind, the feeling of her soft skin in my hands, the way seized up in my arms as her orgasm raked over her body, and the stiffness in my pants that never really went away.

“Slow morning?” he asks as he turns the corner to find me standing silently against the counter. It has indeed been a silently slow morning. Not one person even entered the room since, which is a small blessing.

“Interesting morning,” I mumble.

“Oh yeah?”

I glance over at Logan as he cleans up his station to get ready for an afternoon appointment.

“Yeah.” I get up from my stupor and walk over to the back of the shop where my small office can hide my current mood. He doesn’t ask anymore questions, but Logan knows that I like my privacy.

Logan and Rafe are like brothers to me, but not so much that I feel they deserve to know all of my secrets. And they respect that. They don’t need to know where my money comes from or what I do with my personal life, but they would be there to have my back anytime I need them. And vice versa.

I busy my mind with the expense report for the month, but there’s nothing new to add since yesterday so it’s nothing to stop my mind from wandering back to the feeling of her heaving tits against my chest and her gasp in my ear. God damn, I want to kiss her again. She tasted sweet, like honey, and if I lick my lips, it’s like she’s here. In my mind, she’s still in my arms.

It’s been too long. Too fucking long.

Normally, I can distract myself with a girl down at the bar, something that doesn’t last and requires little effort. Nothing very exciting either. Certainly nothing as intoxicating as a stranger on a whim.

My phone buzzes against the desk.

A welcome distraction, I pick it up, expecting a client or Rafe on a bender, but this time it’s a number I know. A number I haven’t seen in a very long time.